The Drunkard's Clue

As I sipped my ale, lost in thought, a bedraggled man collapsed onto the stool beside me. He reeked of cheap wine and stale sweat, his tattered clothes fluttering around his gaunt frame like a bird's wings. His eyes, sunken and bloodshot, gazed blankly into space, and I assumed he was just another drunkard seeking a place to pass out. But as he swayed gently, his gaze drifted toward me, and I detected a flicker of awareness in their depths. I raised an eyebrow, intrigued despite myself. There was something about this man that didn't quite add up. I decided to take a chance and strike up a conversation. "Excuse me, friend," I said, trying to sound friendly. "I'm looking for information. Do you know anything about the Calhoun family? Specifically, I'm looking for Mari Calhoun and her family - her parents, Elara and Ryker, and her younger brother, Finn." The man's gaze snapped into focus, and he turned to me with a look of sudden interest. He took a deep breath, and his voice, when it came, was surprisingly clear. "Mari Calhoun...Elara, Ryker, and little Finn," he repeated, his words slurred but deliberate. "I knew them. We all did, in the old days." He paused, collecting his thoughts, and I sensed a deeper intelligence behind his bleary eyes. "You see, I used to run with a group of kids, back when the city was...different. Before the demons came. Mari's family was part of it, too. Elara and Ryker, they were good people. Always looking out for the little ones. And Mari...Mari was a firecracker, even back then." The man's gaze drifted off, lost in memories, and I leaned in, eager to hear more. "What do you know about Mari's disappearance?" I asked, trying to keep my voice gentle. The man's eyes refocused on me, and he leaned in close, his breath reeking of cheap wine. "I don't know nothing about her disappearance, but I know someone who might," he whispered, his voice barely audible over the din of the inn. "Old Tom, like the bartender said...he's been around. He might know something." He straightened, his gaze drifting away, and I realized he was losing himself in his own thoughts once more. "Mari's family," he muttered, his voice fading into incoherence. "They were good people...Elara, Ryker, and Finn...don't forget Finn." As he slurred into incoherence, I realized that this bedraggled man might be more than just a drunkard, and that I might have stumbled upon a valuable lead in my search for Mari. I signaled the bartender to bring me another ale, and settled in to listen to the man's ramblings, hoping to glean more information from him.