The stableboy is in a hurry, and understandably; the horse is well fed, and the man that'd just stepped inside is just as absurdly tall as any vampire that Obsidian has seen. Full grown, enormous, maybe looking for his next meal? Luring out some poor fool from a sorry inn is typical, and he's certainly expecting it.

It'd be smart, maybe, to pace it out. But he also can't settle with the taste of letting the vampire get what he wants just so he can get the drop on him.

And throwing himself into battle is really just what he does best.

And I'm never alone.

Obsidian shoves the door open, his heels clicking against worn wood as he approaches the giant figure.

"Take it from someone wearing a mask, but you look like someone who has something to hide." He hauls the giant sword off of his back, Deathbringer glowing faintly in his hand.

"Oi, what do you think--" the barkeep starts.

Obsidian holds up his free hand. "You'll want to leave. This will get messy. Trust me."