Open arms

It would almost remind him of home- the scent of cheap beer and that of pipe smoke. The dim lights of old oil lamps and flickering candles- yet it never could fully take him back there. Back to his father's pub, the place he grew up and the ruins he still lived in to this day. They had torn it all up and broken it all down, Nick had only been 15 at the time- as to send a message they had said. To discourage anyone from trying to pull the same stunt his dad had tried to do. Nick clenched his jaw in remembrance of his old man. Would he still be alive? Would he ever see the light of day and the gentle touch of kindness again? The charlatan shook the thoughts away with a quick shake of his head as he made his way to the makeshift bar. Next to him, a man sat, judging by the looks of him either a drunk or a fool. Nick smiled "You look like a playing cards kinda guy my friend" he brought up with a tilt of his head "Up for a game?"