"Greyon! How much longer are you going to hold out on us, huh? Can't treat your old friends to a little drink?"
"Shove it, Verick." The burly adventurer named Greyon shoved his friend with a laugh. "We both know I paid for drinks two nights back. Tyrone on the other hand…" He eyed a tall mage walking just in front of them.
The mage pushed his glasses up his nose and said coldly, "I don't participate in your frivolity, so I don't see why I should have to bear its cost."
"Aww, come on Tyrone, just this once?" Verick came up to the man to plead.
Tyrone only looked down on him coldly before advancing in their place in line.
"Goods?" A guard glanced up at them from his parchment.
"Two Rye-beaks and a Fire Hen," Verick said proudly, puffing out his chest.
The guard merely scanned their dimensional storage items to double-check their words then wrote something down on the parchment.
"Very well that'll be…" He trailed off, his eyes widening at something behind them.
