Meeting at the Pub (Duma/Carmichal-C)

[Duma]

It was the night after a long odd job. The small band of mercenaries was successful in their mission to retrieve the mayor’s ring and kill all the bandits. The small group was seen as local heroes and Duma was enjoying some of the perks. He had a free room in the Inn along with food and drink. To him the gold was a nice bonus. He was able to make needed repairs to his equipment. The swordsman took a moment to stretch in his room. His body was still sore from the bandit raid. The night was unusually warm so he decided to keep the heavier parts of his clothes in his room. The swordsman was left in his pants, dark sleeveless shirt, and boots. His sword was tucked into its scabbard and resting comfortably on his belt.

He did a quick brush of his long hair then made his way down and out. His destination, the pub. The swordsman was going to make good on his word to have a large drink. The swordsman still could not believe they had gone along with Ravvus’ plan to topple the tower and use it as a secondary bridge. Granted it all worked out in the end but it still bothered him. It’s in the past. Dismiss it. You are going to have a good drink and some food. It’s time to unwind. He expelled the thought from his mind and went inside the pub.

The atmosphere of the small pub felt good. People seemed to be in good cheer. Two patrons were having an arm wrestling match in the corner. Others were trying and failing to woo one of the tavern waitresses. Some waved in his direction and he gave a small nod of acknowledgement. He took a seat by the bar. The pub owner recognized him and immediately went to tend the swordsman. Duma ordered the day’s special which was roast beef, potatoes, and a large mug of mead. The seat next to him was empty.

[Carmichal]

It had been a very odd job. Certainly not the oddest that the aging mercenary and former pirate had partaken in, that title went to the infamous sheep job, but it had taken some bizarre turns. It would certainly be a tale that Carmichal would be telling over drinks for years to come. Which was where he was headed now. One of the village women had wanted to thank him in person and had taken the time to indulge her in that. Now, however, he wanted a drink. Or, more accurately, he wanted a lot of drinks, and having been payed by the mayor, all he needed now was a pub and an open barstool. The town was in full celebration, its citizens overjoyed that their bandit overlords had finally been vanquished. It wasn’t hard to find a place to drink.

As he pushed his way through the tavern door, a loud cheer went up from one of the tables and Carmichal returned the sentiment. His trek to the bar was a long one. One villager after another kept stopping him to offer a handshake or a swig of ale or a daughter’s hand in marriage. When he finally made it through the crowd, he spotted an open seat at the bar, conveniently located next to a familiar mop of green hair. Carmichal plopped happily onto the stool and gave his new friend a hearty pat on the back. He ordered a mug of ale, noting to the barkeep to top it off whenever it ran dry, and turned to Duma. “Hell of a job, eh?” he recounted with a jovial chuckle. “You ever do anything that crazy?”

[Duma]

Duma was fortunate that Carmichal didn't pat his back while he had a mouth full of food. He wiped his mouth with his sleeve and had a bit of a smile when the shirtless man took a seat next to him.

"Mm. Yeah that was one hell of a job." He agreed.

"Heh.. well truth be told I've been in crazier. These scars didn't get there with out some crazy stuff happening." He spoke with a bit of a grin. Though the story of his obvious facial scars didn't actually involve any insanity, actually the story behind them was something that was a bit hard for Duma to talk about. So he was used to making up stories about how he got them for entertainment. But he wanted to see the reaction Carmichal gave in response.

"Though I admit the job, ranks pretty high on my list of "crazy" jobs. Probably hovering at a solid 3." He took a sip of ale from his mug.

"I'd take it everyone in town wanted to buy you a drink? A few people tried to do that but I turned them down. There was this one.. strange old man who tried to give me his daughter. I declined that too. Though I did not get such a warm welcome like you did. Cept from the bar keep." He nodded in his direction. He munched on some more food.

"After a job like that I feel like I can eat for an army. Food's good, I owe you one. So one plate is on me. Actually it's probably on the mayor, but you know what I mean." He spoke with a happy voice.