[ they are definitely garnering some attention as they pass on through; one of those men in particular is eying Dokja as if he had personally affronted him with his mere presence, which... to be fair, Dokja shouldn't be unused to. probably,

a-anyway,

Abel's leading him toward the back, not seeming worried in the least - which SHOULD be comforting... right? but it's Abel. so it probably isn't. ]

Dokja, I didn't realize you were the nervous sort... please, will you relax? It's fine, it's fine! Madam D is a friend and she permitted me usage of her cellar. You really ought to meditate or something; this kind of tension is sure to prematurely age you.

[ haha, if only he knew,

...anyway, this small and narrow hallway is unoccupied, at least - and they're free to head to a door down the ways which indeed leads down a pair of steps to some kind of cellar or sub-basement that is used to store liquors. it's quite dark and musty down here... very dusty from disuse; it's apparent no one has actively used this place in some time.

but Abel's goading Dokja down like he's coaxing a frightened dog. ]

Come on~! There's a good lad. Do you want me to hold your hand...?