You all enter the building, which turns out to be in many ways much like you'd expect from a tavern on the surface, although with a slightly sinister vibe. Perhaps it's the inhabitants, a similar mix of humanoid races to what you saw on the street, including a few you don't recognize. Perhaps it's the bartender and servers, completely covered in white hooded cloaks expect for an opening around the eyes.
There are a dozen or so lantern-lit niches scattered about this large, high ceilinged chamber. A central bar is stuffed with bottles, casks, pipes, vials, cigaillos, and less familiar paraphernalia. A side door apparently opens into a busy kitchen that is alive with the sounds and scents of cooking. From a great stone chair across the common room, a humanoid figure observes, wrapped in and hooded by a crimson robe that has a complex pattern of eyes on it. Whatever this creature is, you sense that little escapes its notice.
One of the servers invites you to sit with a sweeping wave of (his? her? its?) cloaked arm.
[sblock=Spot DC 13]Underneath the white hood, where you'd expect to see eyes surrounded by a piece of face, you see holes surrounded by a piece of skull.[/sblock]