The bizarre duo made their way into the pub. A dirty place, the small tavern had an old oak bar that was splintered like a tree struck by lightning, hardwood floor covered by a mat of sawdust nearly an inch thick, a stench like an abandoned stable and patrons that looked far below a noble standard.
Angar walked in, leaving Calla to follow if she chose, and climbed up a stool at the end of the bard, "Comelia! Two flagons o'yer finest brandy, got me a new friend!" The dwarf slapped a handful of gold coins on the wood, "Keep 'em comin', wouldja?"
An oddly attractive, though rather filthy, girl smiled and made her way to collect the coins, "You taking this one to bed to, Axe-man? Or you here for Stephania again?"
The young dwarf grinned widely as a dark blush crept into his cheeks, "Ye know me well, girl, ye truly do! Tell that li'l halfling I'll be waitin' for 'er, wouldja?"