As they approached the inn, Goon stepped to the side of the entrance, then caught himself. He'd been a bouncer for a long time; his place was no longer at the entrance. It was alongside these nutcases, going about kicking bandit ass.
Oh, I get it, Goon thought as Davor healed Yatari,
Heal a pretty tiefling, and leave poor Goon to drink his own pain away. Of course from the arrow they took, Yatari needed Davor's divine doctoring more than Goon. His 200
yella tin would ease any pain he felt for the moment. Besides, Beer was always the best medicine.
~~~~~~~
Goon had taken no time to get a mug of beer-like beer in his hand. Happily he stood beside Sakr, behind the bar-seated group, sipping steadily with a small smile. He was already feeling better, though the bleeding wound in his side was yet to be tended to. He actually liked it now; what sort of person would walk up to a behemoth loaded to the gills with weapons drinking? Bouncer lesson 101 was looking the part more than doing it.
When Davor bumped into the bar patrons, the brawler laughed, then glanced down to Sakr in shock.
"Yo. Non need for 'at." Goon's voice was as gentle as the hand he used to reach out and place on Sakr's sword arm. Just to be sure he took a second glance. Yep, just Davor's frame finding a bit of trouble and patient company. Was Sakr always so jumpy? Maybe they didn't mingle in the city much. From that bandit beatdown, Goon guessed that it at least made them quick in a fight.
"Bare blade in'a bar?" Goon shook his head.
"Bad bezness, buddy. No spilled drink worth spilled blood. 'Ere." Goon offered the ranger his mug with his gaped grin.
"Take a swig. Coldlamp a bit."
Goon did listen in on the conversation with the new faces. With Myre having just left, Iluria's face surprised him. He wouldn't have thought too many druids were around these parts. Not that he knew these parts. Probably would be best for him to mingle a bit. Make some "friends".
"...I do not know what is good here."
"I do not know what is good here..."
Goon chuckled, then leaned in to bellow,
"Only one way to fin'out. 'N make up for 'at spilt drink!" Goon raised a meaty hand in to the air over Alfred's head, then
slammed his hand down onto the counter. When he slid his hand away,
five gold coins lay in that place.
"Yo, barmon, give me 'n m'buddies a round of y'm benet! Non need for 'at muck y'm callin' a brew!"
Goon wasn't inebriated, but perhaps he was drunk on the excitement of a successful first adventuring gig.
This message was last edited by the player at 23:11, Mon 09 Aug 2021.