Drink, Drink, Drink

It's cold and miserable outside, but that hardly really matters when one is safe and warm inside a bar. It matters even less when one is well into their cups and determined to drink the day away. The pub is quiet at the moment, but given the time of day that's not unusual. There's a dark-haired man sitting at the bar, his black overcoat laid out on the bar so that his bristling armor is wholly visible. There's a massive blade leaning against the bar as well. Close at hand, but far enough that it doesn't get in the man's way as he drinks.

Today he's drinking slowly. Each motion a little careful so that he doesn't spill his drink out onto the bar. The bartender keeps a wary eye on him, but the man doesn't offer any conversation to the other. He just sits and drinks.

Crius slips in from outside, pausing at the door to shake off the cold and slide out of his thick, fur-lined cloak. The shadow elf is dressed in dark colors with a chain shirt that's been blackened to help keep it from glinting in the light. Making his way over to the bar he finds a place for his cloak and then nods to the bartender.

There are looks that follow him, the normal wary glances and the like that are common for his kind. Ignoring it all there is an up-nod to the bartender as Crius orders a drink. Nodding to Aragos he reaches into one of his pouches to get the coin to pay for his order.

Alcohol and weapons are always a bad combination, but at least the dark-haired man is not the only one with a massive blade present. It does seem unusual to have so many people choose to wear full arms and armor in a tavern, but at least the second man so attired appears to be more passing by. Dolan, several paces behind Crius, hangs his dripping cloak on a series of pegs near the door reserved for such things, leaving it to drip on the floor, but even that well-oiled protection is not enough to keep one fully dry in weather of this kind, and his boots squelch noisily as he strides across the polished wooden floor. *squeak squeak squeak*

He approaches the quiet-during-the-day bar, a pace or two away from Aragos, the scarred and twisted side of his face with its inset green gem plainly visible. From the other side, the brown-haired man looks pleasant and relaxed enough, and his request of the barkeep reflects that. "Barkeep, brightest of days to you," he greets, with a backward glance and a wry grin that acknowledges that the weather is anything but, "A plate of whatever's available today and whatever ale's on tap, if you please." He reaches into the space inside the breastplate he wears and removes a pouch, from which several silver coins emerge.

Aragos grunts quietly as he is joined at the bar by Crius, he doesn't nod back, but the grunt might be some form of 'hello'. Dolan's approach garners something more of a reaction because the dark-haired man turns slightly to get a look at the squeak-squeaking behind him. He gives Dolan a short irritated, but considering look. He seems unbothered by the other man's scars, in that his expression never changes as he weighs Dolan momentarily with his strange purple eyes. "Should know better than to stand behind a man. Dangerous."

Even as he speaks he pats his chest carefully, looking for something. His purple eyes lower to look at his armor and doesn't seem to find what he's looking for. He abruptly gives up and picks up his drink, downing the glass in frustration. "Another drink." He motions to his cup.

Crius makes payment and orders himself an ale. Looking to Aragos and Dolan he chuckles slightly at the comment about standing behind a man. "No one likes people walking up on their unprotected back, man or woman. Good advice." Nodding to Aragos he gives Dolan a polite up-nod of a greeting as well. With the coins placed on the bar for his ale, the elf settles into a chair and makes himself comfortable. "Terrible weather out there for travel. I'm going to guess we'll see this place fill up quickly as everyone tries to find warmth and a dry place to rest."

"Dangerous for who, I wonder." Dolan's good humor evaporates, but he moves to the far side of the bar, to his left, to make the needed exchange of coins with the bar keep. The man vanishes into the back, leaving Dolan to rest his elbows on the brightly polished wood of the bar, his head turning until he can fully view the pair with both eyes. "Well, no matter. I'd suggest finding a corner where your back's better protected, but knowing this place, they're probably all full." A cheeky grin tugs at the scar tissue at the corner of his mouth.

He nods back politely to Crius. "Probably not during the day. Towards evening, better believe it. This place gets crowded even in good weather."

The dark-haired man seems to weigh Dolan even more after his perhaps too-serious comment. Evaluating the way he holds his weapon and the surety of his words. There's a moment, just a moment of real consideration before it passes. He sighs a moment later when the bartender tends to the other's orders before his own, but doesn't comment on the fact. Instead he returns his attention to those that have joined him at the bar. "I'm not worried."

These words seem to be in response to the suggestion that a corner where Aragos can more easily defend himself might be in order. Indeed, looking around - most of the defensible locations are currently taken. "Besides, here I'm closer to the drink." This is true, and it is proven out when the bartender returns a moment later with Dolan's order, Crius' ale, and reluctantly pours out another drink for Aragos.

Crius offers a nod of thanks to the bartender while motioning to the coin left for payment on the bar itself. "I think in a place like this, more so as it gets busy, it's harder for people to stay away from standing at your back. So, I guess it's good you're not worried." Lifting his cup to salute Aragos, he gives a light smile to Dolan, adding, "Does that mean there will be more entertainment the later it becomes? Bards? Dancers? Or just more patrons drinking and eating?"

"I've seen entertainment here before," Dolan agrees, reaching to accept his ale and plate of stew when it arrives. The coins in front of Crius magically vanish, and the barkeep turns away again, vanishing into the back briefly. He seems to accept the response for what it is, although he does give Aragos a good, long look in return. "Now there's a good reason to sit at the bar." The remark is accompanied by a brief point at Aragos, a gesture of acknowledgement.

He digs into his meal with a will, washed down with an ale. "I wouldn't worry here, no. Now, the Ox-Strength in the Warehouse District, that's another matter."

Aragos lapses into silence as Dolan and Crius chat about entertainment and then a slow easy grin spreads across his face at the mention of the Ox-Strength tavern. "Ah! There's a good place!" He sighs with good will and takes a drink of his alcohol. "If you're looking for a fight to go with your drink that is. Sometimes you can find one worth having here, but the barkeep doesn't like it much." It's probably safe to assume he means a fight and not a drink.

Crius drains his ale in a few long gulps. Putting down his cup he wipes his mouth with the back of his hand and grins. "A fight and a drink. Seems like fun though I'd bet there are a lot out there that wouldn't be ok with being beat. Right? Get mad and come for real blood?" Looking around the room he frowns a bit at the looks he catches from some of the other patrons, knowing he's soon to outlive his welcome. Tapping the counter he adds, "I'll have to check that place out. I'm Crius by the way." Reaching for his cloak it looks like he was here just for the one drink.

Easy laughter bursts from Dolan, and he very nearly spews his drink in his surprise. He _just_ manages to swallow it instead, and ends up with a good coughing fit that lasts a minute or more. He pounds the chest of his breastplate with a fist as he recovers, still chuckling. "You and Andie," he manages. "Nah, Ox-Strength is usually pretty good natured. If you want to fight someone who's out for blood, go to the Colosseum. You'll get a good workout."

Cough cough.

"I'm Dolan," he offers back to Crius in turn.

The dark-haired man glances at Dolan briefly then shakes his head without explanation. He seems perhaps mildly amused by his coughing fit, and uses this opportunity to finish off his drink. If he's been drinking like this all day then he's _very_ well into his cups. "If they're out for blood, they've gone to the wrong place." He agrees with Dolan smoothly. He eyes Crius. "You're new around here I take it. So am I. I'm Aragos." He offers his hand to Crius. It's hand that's no stranger to work. The work of weilding a sword. He offers a nod to Dolan.

“The colosseum... Mmmm, I'll have to check that out. Test my mettle as it were, perhaps make some coin." Shaking off his cloak before its wrapped about his shoulders there is a nod to Dolan. "Nice to meet you Dolan." Checking his pouches, hidden knives and daggers, his short swords, and everything else on his person, Crius seems ready to head out. Nodding at Aragos once he's satisfied he's got everything he takes the offered hand and gives it a firm and polite shake. "Well met Aragos. Yes, I'm new to the area but I'm guessing we'll all see each other here and about. Maybe I'll make it big in the colosseum and you'll both be able to tell tales of how you were the ones that put me on to it, or, if I die, the same." Chuckling a bit he waves then turns to head out.

Dolan appears to be too busy with fork and spoon to extend a hand, but he seems easy enough. "Take care of yourself. If it's coin you're looking for, and to test your mettle, could always check out the Explorer's Guild, but look out, they've got a pretty bad rap right now." He pauses to insert another bite of food into his mouth and raises a hand to Crius as he departs.

"I wouldn't worry here, so much," he tells Aragos. "This is the better side of town. Maybe after dark, there'll be a few sketchy characters."

Aragos nods as he watches Crius leave. "It's a shame. I could use a good fight to get the blood going." He smiles mostly to himself and looks at his empty glass. "Maybe I'll stick around until dark. Or... head on over to the Ox and see if I can't get a row going."

He looks at Dolan. "Maybe I'll try that guild you mentioned. At least it'd pay for a few drinks. What's their bad rap for? Fighting?"

"Using their magic instead of their heads." Dolan continues to talk between bites of food, although at least he doesn't talk with his mouth full. The result is pauses between phrases, usually punctuated by a slug of ale to wash it down. Someone has a good appetite. "Rumor talks about one turning into a giant lizard and destroying part of the Nobility District. A couple have gotten involved with demons. There's at least one who's wanted. Pissed a lot of people off pretty good."

"Sounds dangerous." Aragos admits, thinking through the drink that muddles his mind. He scrubs a hand up over his face and into his hair, closing his eyes briefly and then finishing the movement. "Might avoid them after all. Even if the money's good, that kind of foolishness gets more than just you killed."

Dolan nods, all good humor gone. "I don't truck with demons. I came face to face with one once, and if it ever happens again, it'll be too soon," he replies darkly, and with a tinge of _really_ bad memories written into the tone. "Knight might have other ideas, though. Anyway," he changes the subject swiftly, "Done a few Guild jobs. Haven't met anyone yet that I'd class as that insufferably stupid. Guild probably cleaned them out."

What humor - if any that existed on Aragos' features is gone as well. He stares at his empty cup clearly wishing it would fill itself before he pushes it away firmly with a finger. "You have my condolences." He offers quietly in response to Dolan's admission of having faced a demon before. There's something hard-written on his features, and he quirks his eyebrow at the mention of the 'knight' but doesn't comment. He seems in the end as glad of a change of subject as Dolan is. "Hope you're right. I'm going to head out. I might almost be able to sleep. And if not, I'll see about an alternative." He offers his hand to Dolan.

The look on Dolan's face says that he feels _all_ of those feels. "Damn nightmares. I'm almost getting closer to the bastard causing them, though." He sets down fork and knife and takes the hand, shaking firmly. One swordsman to another, grip on callused grip. "Take care of yourself."

Aragos blinks at Dolan, surprise flickering over his features and then he nods. "Good luck, and take care of yourself too." There's a flash of white teeth and then he's grabbing his coat, picking up his sword like its a part of him. He makes it a few steps toward the door and then speaks without turning. "If you need a hand, let me know." He makes the rest of the way out of the door without waiting for a response.

-End