Two blocks from capital hill at the end of an unassuming street sat a neighborhood bar. In a sparsely lit corner of the bar a small table is occupied by a rather nondescript gentleman. A narrow shaft of light cuts across his chin, arcs across the table and exposes a weathered hand that has raised quite a few toasts over the years. A sparkle of light flashes from his ring finger as he raises a cold glass of freshly poured ale.
Behind the bar a young man is prepping garnishes for the happy hour rush. A twinkle in the corner of the bar catches his eye. He remembers the ring the man wore and figured that as the source of the flash. Nothing about the man was remarkable but the ring and its strange carousel symbol was interesting enough to lodge in his memory.
The man had mentioned that he was meeting up with someone and they should be here shortly. The young man wondered if his confidant would also be wearing a strange ring.
That would be cool, he thought. Maybe some kind of conspiracy is afoot