A very dirty and bloody elf stalks into the bar from upstairs. The crowd parts for him, although it's unclear whether its due to the stench of his grimy furs and leathers, or due to the murderous look in his eye.
Stopping in front of the bar, he growls, "Three of bottle of the goods drink ... the 'rotgut.'" The half-orc bartender eyes him, shrugs, and sets out a trio of bottles.
The elf chugs the first one without a breath, and immediately begins work on the second bottle.