The bartender brushes the dust off the green bottle and then places his hand over the glazed clay as if to check its temperature, "Red it is then." He puts the green bottle down and uncorks the brown one. The blood-red liquid pours smoothly into the pewter cup."The white if it is chilled, otherwise the red please."
The bartender laughs jovially and gives a nod to the barmaid's response, "Look around you lad," he pats the tiefling on the shoulder with the back of his hand and points in a swirling motion around the common room, "You're surrounded by freaks," His laugh becomes a roll, "I wager you'll feel more at home in this tavern than anywhere else in the Transitive Isles.""I am wondering how people around here feel about those of my race. I have encountered... some difficulties... in the past."
Looking at Artemis again, Esrethan asks, "So, tell me of yourself, Artemis. What is your story?"
The bartender seems to take offense, "She's only my favorite customer because she orders more ale, herself, than the whole lot of you together.""Bob only brings it up because his favorite female elven customer was there..." He gives Bob a wink.