Snippet #2686289

Captain Davis Richards slammed his mug down on the bar. "Aye, bartender! Gimme 'nother one of those." A fresh mug of the worst ale he's ever had slid across the bar and came to a sloshing stop at his outstretched hand. Tossing a copper to the ugly bastard, he grabbed his drink and wormed his way through the crowd of off duty, and few on duty, soldiers towards the seat he had noticed on the way in. It was tucked all the way in a back corner that was poorly lit and was probably only set up as an after thought, trying to squeeze as many human bodies as possible into the tavern.