Felix has ordered himself a nice local ale and settled into a corner so that he won't draw attention by muttering into the shadows.

Instead he nearly draws it by jumping suddenly and splashing ale down his cuirass. Great.

He grabs a cloth napkin from the next table and answers under the cover of drying himself down. "Militant religious order. They hunt down 'unholy creatures' in the name of the god Stendarr. Vampires, daedra, werewolves..." He sniffs. "I try to avoid them. Why?"