When Liam waltzed through the tavern doors, the few people in the room stared at him. Most of the people seemed to be eating a late breakfast or early lunch. Only one of them sat at the bar rather than the tables.

The bar took up most of the room on the left. Hundreds of glass bottles lined the shelves behind the bartender. Off to the side of the counter, there was a door that obviously led to a kitchen. The other side of the room was filled with tables and booths. Honestly, the establishment looked nicer than the one Liam used to frequent in his early military days even in spite of the difference in technological advancements.

With assurance in his gait, he walked to the bar and plopped down on the nearest seat. Nora took the one to his right.

“You want anything?” Liam asked her.

“So you refuse to buy me clothes but you'll get me drunk?” she retorted, raising a brow.

“Not drunk,” Liam said. “A drink.”

“I guess I'll have one as long as they have something sweet.”

The bartender approached them and asked, “What can I do for you?” The man wore a uniform that made him look like a butler. His black hair was neatly combed, though his chin was clean-shaven in contrast to Liam's. Overall, the man looked rather sharp, a good thing for a bartender.

“Before I order, do you have change for a platinum coin?” Liam asked.

“Of course,” the man replied, nodding ever so slightly.

“Then I'll have a large glass of whatever your strongest drink is,” Liam requested. Then, he pointed at Nora with his thumb and said, “Also, whatever she's having.”

“Do you have any Rosebud Wine?” she asked.

The bartender nodded. “A tankard of Dragon's Tongue and a glass of Rosebud Wine, then?”

“Yeah. Thanks,” Liam answered.

“By the gods of the forest, I can't believe you just ordered Dragon's Tongue...” Nora muttered as the bartender proceeded to prepare the drinks.

“Is it strong?” Liam asked.

“Strong is an understatement. More like, humans shouldn't drink it.”

“Good,” Liam said.

In response, Nora stared wide-eyed at him.

When the bartender brought the drinks over, Liam thanked him and took a sip. The reddish-brown liquid flowed down his throat like water but burned like fire the whole way down. It was perfect. Next to him, Nora could only watch in amazement. Sighing, she turned her attention to her own drink.

Then, the man at the end of the counter stood and sauntered toward them. Each of his steps landed out of line, but his overly muscular physique made him look intimidating nonetheless. His scarred face, hairy as a gorilla, showed the signs of deep drunkenness. As he approached, he said, “A man after me own heart! Nothin' like a good fire ale in the mornin', eh?”

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Setting the tankard on the counter, Liam looked at the man and asked, “What do you want?”

“Jus' wonderin' what brings a man like yerself to the guild tavern so early in the mornin' to drink,” the man replied, leaning on the counter a few feet away from Nora. The thick scent of alcohol wafted from his clothes and breath.

Either the man was a friendly neighborhood drunk, or he intended to do something stupid after having his mental inhibitions removed by inebriation. Ready for both, Liam replied, “Needed a drink after pain in ass adventure that damn near killed me.”

“Oh? Sounds rough, mate. Didja get in a squabble with a big beast?”

“A few of them,” Liam replied.

Meanwhile, Nora looked back and forth between the two wondering if she needed to be on guard. Since she did not visit taverns very often, she decided to follow Liam's lead. As such, she sipped carefully from her glass.

“Hmm?” The man muttered. “A nice lookin' lass fer a hard drinkin lad, eh? Wha's with the hood, though? Hiding a pretty face is such a shame.”

“I suggest you drop it,” Liam warned. In the corner of his eye, he noticed the bartender gesturing; a swinging fist with one hand while rubbing his forefinger and thumb together with the other, basically implying that a fight would be fine as long as Liam paid for damages.

Raising his hands, the man smiled and said, “No problem, mate. No problem.”

The man spun around, apparently to return to his seat. However, his right hand swung directly toward Nora's head in an obvious attempt to remove her hood.

Instantly, Liam grasped the man's arm. Apparently, his action proved unnecessary, since Nora already stood on the other side of the man pointing a knife at his throat.

“Okay, okay. I get it,” the man said, still maintaining a cheerful attitude.

“If you don't, I'll shove your intestines down your throat,” Liam threatened.

“No, I will,” Nora said, causing Liam to raise a brow.

“Feisty lass for a feisty lad,” the man said. “If you don't mind, I'd like to return to my drink.”

Although hesitant, Liam released his grip, though not without pushing the man's arm away. Following Liam's lead, Nora returned her knife to its rightful place within the folds of her jacket. Before sitting down again, she waited for the man to return to his place at the end of the bar.

Noticing movement in his peripheral vision, he looked at the tables on the other side of the room. A few of the men passed a few coins back and forth. They had placed bets. The only outlier was a laid back man in the far corner of the room leaning back in his chair with legs propped up on the table. Oddly enough, his dark brown hair stood straight up on top but had been shaved on the sides. Although the man had a smile on his face, a ferocity gleamed within his dark brown eyes, as though he remained ready for a fight at any moment. To Liam's surprise, the man's hand stayed clenched around the handle of a sheathed Claymore leaning against the table until the drunken man returned to his seat. When the guy noticed Liam's gaze, he winked. Perhaps, if a fight had actually broken out, he would have helped. Then again, maybe he just wanted to fight someone.

Turning his attention back to the drunken man, Liam saw the guy swallow the rest of his ale before paying and leaving. On the way out, he gave a curt apology, though he maintained the cheerful attitude.

“He doesn't seem sorry,” Nora muttered, following up by finishing her wine.

Liam shrugged and replied, “Drunkenness does that to people.”

“Speaking of that, how are you not drunk off that Dragon's Tongue yet?” Nora asked.

Staring into the half-emptied tankard, Liam answered, “I don't even feel a buzz yet.”

* * * * *

Exiting the doors of the Adventurer Guild, the 'drunk' man dropped the drunken act and shoved his hands into his pockets. Sighing as he left the grounds, he muttered, “Man, I hate this job. I never saw her. Yep. Never saw her...” He looked at his arm where a hand-shaped bruise began to form. Then, he took one last look at the guild. “Where did that guy pop out from? He's at least as strong as one of the Cavalier Knights. I even had to worry about that savage in the corner... Today's just not my day.”