Konnor sighed a little.
"This'll take a while to explain. I suggest we get even the slightest bit comfortable before doing anything else. Let Al bring some more booze for us first,"
Soon enough, Al came in through the back holding two trays of large mugs. The owner of the tavern, Al, was a short stocky old man with a long grey beard that stopped just before reaching his chest.
He scanned the tables with dark goggles as if searching for something.
He stopped on Melchior's face for a brief second and then continued as if nothing had happened. He wiped his face against the sleeve of his tunic, grimacing.
"I don't get paid enough for this, Konnor." he sighed.
Konnor laughed a little, "We're here nearly every night, Al. You do get paid enough for this,"
"Not nearly enough." Al snorted.
"Come on, don't be like that."
"Are you telling me how to behave in my establishment?"
