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Message: <blockquote data-quote="doghead" data-source="post: 1587077" data-attributes="member: 8243">The Ubersaxe shrugs, then turns to the locals crowded against the far wall."I, on behalf of my saxe, apologise for being here. You have my word that we will do everything in our power to," he glaces around the room, "get back to somewhere worth being as soon as is humanly possible. In the meantime, perhaps, you will share a drink with us."One of the craftsmen makes to say something in response but is lost in a grunt of surprise. Instead it is another who speaks up. A pinched man with a thin bitter face. The oldest of the three. "There are a number of places I would rather be as well Ubersaxe. "So, I'll join you in that drink." Ignoring the mutters from his companions he steps back to the table and calles over the tavern keep. "Some of the good stuff ... one the gentlemen over there. And some for any of the Seventh who want it, on me."Slowly, everyone drifts back to their tables, the tavern keep takes orders and in the fullness of time ale is produced.</blockquote>