| Borfus smiled for a second, then managed to get the gumption to speak as well as possible. "Um... He has taken a light beer and gone upstairs... Light beers suck..." She said, then turned to order more alchohol. Behind all of them, a figure entered. A griffionoid, known as Arthuro Menian. He turned his blade and sheathed it, its patterns and carving visible in the light... "May I gain a room, my good sir?" he said, speaking in a refined tone to the tender. He handed over a long, golden key, which he pocketed and then he asked for a small glass of wine. As usual, Borfus' glare attempted to sway his choice of drink, but it failed. So many people here in this bar might signify an omen... |