Alone he sits, sipping at a redenned drink which looks particularily unsavoury indeed.The dim light in the establishment creates a hazy glow on and around his crimson suit. Although he appears to be hunched over and deep in thought, it is evident that he is constantly scanning the room - though for who or what remains as much of a mystery as the drink he quietly sips. Garat keeps his voice low, flicking his eyes from side to side to make sure no- one is peering out of the gloom before whispering conspiratorially "Who... who?"