"So, what kind of devil did you meet to make yah succumb to drinking this piss?" Rug asked.
"Probably the most wicked, the most treacherous and damned be the ones who made her but also the most beautiful of them all." Barak emptied his mug and Botch instantly filled it up once again.
"What she do to yah?" Botch asked. As he served beer to a man who just sat in front of the counter.
"I think I can figure that out myself." Rug sniggered. "Seeing that he looks so fancy, he must be an important Tragonian. Might be the prince even." Rug grinned with his brown teeth and everyone around him gasped at his words.
"What gives that away, Rug? The fancy clothes?" Barak asked and the old man shrugged.
"Nay, not the fancy clothes, but the eyes." at the words of the man, Barak's gaze shifted to him. He could see a kind of seriousness upon his face. Almost hostile too. "They are fancy eyes!" Rug cheered and that hostile expression disappeared from his face.
