covaithe
Explorer
Quagmire nods. "Hrav, Brudd, Dumas. A pleasure. Now, to find a drink in this place. Ho, landlord!"
Quagmire ambles over to the bar with an unhurried stride, and spends a moment whispering in the bartender's ear. The man's eyes go wide, and he asks "Are you sure?" in an awed voice. At Quagmire's answering grin, he shakes his head slowly and goes into a back room for a minute. He emerges wearing thick leather gloves and holding a ceramic mug at arms length, his face turned away from a plume of thick green smoke rising from the mug. A pungent smell fills the room, reminiscent of pine and garlic and molasses and tobacco. Quagmire inhales deeply, and sips with obvious pleasure. "Thanks, mate. You'll do," he says to the barman, placing a coin on the counter before sauntering over to Hrav and Brudd and Dumas.
Quagmire ambles over to the bar with an unhurried stride, and spends a moment whispering in the bartender's ear. The man's eyes go wide, and he asks "Are you sure?" in an awed voice. At Quagmire's answering grin, he shakes his head slowly and goes into a back room for a minute. He emerges wearing thick leather gloves and holding a ceramic mug at arms length, his face turned away from a plume of thick green smoke rising from the mug. A pungent smell fills the room, reminiscent of pine and garlic and molasses and tobacco. Quagmire inhales deeply, and sips with obvious pleasure. "Thanks, mate. You'll do," he says to the barman, placing a coin on the counter before sauntering over to Hrav and Brudd and Dumas.