Board Thread:Roleplaying/@comment-27830834-20180707190947/@comment-30715799-20180725004353

Klaus looks at his drink with surprising glee, the stuff in his flask was a bit stale and had acquired a matalic taste to it. He knocked back the drink, relishing the burn as it tingled its way to his stomach. With an approving nod to the bartender he passed the glass back. Noticing the eyes on them he gave a dead eyed look to all the rough types in the room, feral orks looked more imposing in their dung paint get ups. Still, these were no doubt a dangerous lot.

With a horse, soft bark of a laugh, Klaus said to the bartender," I should have known better than to think you'd have ice, seeing people who like to 'slum it', as it were, threw me off." He placed a few more coins on the counter as a tip, then leaned against the counter. Taaking a drag off of a nicotine stick, emotionless eyes scanning the faces around him out of habit as he waited to hear Maxus give a reply.