R O N I N
Exhaustion was a feeling that Ronin could relate to. Whilst Tristan had been rebuilding his smithy, the ex-captain had been but a few buildings down trying to battle a guildhall under control. Surprise surprise, it was a lot more difficult than it looked, particularly when a large stone golem seemed to have taken up residence in the edifice he'd chosen. So it was a battered and bruised Ronin who came to join Tristan at the bar, sinking onto a stool a couple of seats away and ordering himself a large, cold pint to nurse as well.
He'd given up taverns, once upon a time. Drinking did nothing for his usually very docile temper, a fact that he had learned, forgotten, learned all over again and schooled himself on. But this was a new place and he was a new person (he felt like he'd become a lot of new people over the course of his short life) and damn it, not only would a drink not hurt, it would bloody well save his life at this point.
Thanking Edrei (and smirking at the idea of being served drinks by her rather than leading her as a member of the Storm Guard), Ronin let out a long sigh and took a grateful sip of his drink. He'd head home after this, he promised himself - otherwise he might end up asleep at the bar too. Speaking of which, he glanced to the side and spotted a familiar face from their meeting in the Temple, offering a sympathetic smile.
"Long day?" he asked conversationally.
