You grab a tankard full of ale from the man’s hand and start drinking.
Although the smell of ale is vivid and and the tankard looks full, you taste nothing as you try to gulp it down. There is no substance, it is only air.
You look back at the man without showing emotion. He has a rough unkempt beard, bald top and a glistening forehead.
“Its good right? Made it myself I did, hah!” He wipes his forehead with a pieces of cloth you hadn’t seen in his hand before now. “Been at it for months I did, all for the Jarl’s coronation.”
He points towards the far end of hall. A large burly man sits in what you’d perceive to be a throne.
You nod and say thanks for the ale.