It was crowded in the tavern that day, it was loud and slightly too warm for comfort. It had an odd odor of old ale, which could make someone with a weak stomach queasy. Tyr had come there that day to drink, it was his birthday and he planned on celebrating it.
It was clear to anyone who knew Tyr in the least, that he was completely wasted. He staggered to a table, slamming his mug of alcohol down, some of the liquid spilling over the edge. A girl sat there, something about her seemed familiar and he didn't like it. He wasn't one to talk to strangers, or talk at all, but then again, he was drunk.
"You know what I hate," He started, his voice loud, his words slurred.
He stared at the armored, muscular girl in silence, giving her a moment to answer. That's when he placed it, she reminded him of his incubus father. Still he remained silent, wanting her to guess at least once, his white tattoo's seeming to have an odd glow as he stared at her.