The white sheep of the family
Still trying to learn more about Torchline, Loren had decided to go to a bar called the Hanged Man. Drunk people had looser lips, and while he avoided alcohol, he could use a drink these days. Or two. Or enough to take him under, which, given his gaunt frame and dark circles, wouldn't be that many.
He had a small pack on his back of goods to trade, mostly medicines. Dressed in almost appropriate attire (shirt, shorts, sandals, knife at hip, though none were bright and fashionable enough for the port city), he headed warily towards the tavern. It was nice on the outside, and even nicer on the inside, with low lighting and a cool breeze.
Of course, what wasn't nice was that the only seat open was next to Remi, of all people.
To the Launceleyn's credit, he only hesitated in the doorway for a heartbeat before he headed towards the alchemist. "Remi. I'm just here to drink." The comment was carefully neutral. Turning to the bartender, the healer tapped the bar. "Two shots of your hardest liquor and a mug of beer." As the bartender gave Loren an expectant look, he handed over vials of medicine without really looking until the bartender nodded. Obviously, he'd over paid and equally obviously he didn't care.
Setting the pack at his feet, not really caring if someone stole it, he pounded back the two shots without stopping. They went straight to his head, of course, and he started carefully nursing the mug of beer. Equally carefully, he avoided looking at the man next to him.
He had a small pack on his back of goods to trade, mostly medicines. Dressed in almost appropriate attire (shirt, shorts, sandals, knife at hip, though none were bright and fashionable enough for the port city), he headed warily towards the tavern. It was nice on the outside, and even nicer on the inside, with low lighting and a cool breeze.
Of course, what wasn't nice was that the only seat open was next to Remi, of all people.
To the Launceleyn's credit, he only hesitated in the doorway for a heartbeat before he headed towards the alchemist. "Remi. I'm just here to drink." The comment was carefully neutral. Turning to the bartender, the healer tapped the bar. "Two shots of your hardest liquor and a mug of beer." As the bartender gave Loren an expectant look, he handed over vials of medicine without really looking until the bartender nodded. Obviously, he'd over paid and equally obviously he didn't care.
Setting the pack at his feet, not really caring if someone stole it, he pounded back the two shots without stopping. They went straight to his head, of course, and he started carefully nursing the mug of beer. Equally carefully, he avoided looking at the man next to him.
Will blood tell
