Tanure arrived at Esterfell in the time expected, though now as he stood outside the Tavern, he began to wish he had gotten to the town earlier, it being well into the night, meant the Humans would of had their fill of alcohol and then some and therefore would be typically rude and obnoxious, especially if there were veterans of the War present, whom from past experience would soon be bragging and offering challenges as to which of the Armies had the most victories or hardest fought battles which inevitably turned physical, intoxicated humans were almost as bad as Orcs after too much grog, but fortunately didn't smell as bad.

Tanure pulled the hood of his cloak up over his head, secured his bow across his back, adjusted the cloak slightly, so the hilt of his dagger could be gripped quickly, then entered the Tavern, pausing just long enough for his eyes to adjust to the light. He spotted the one he sought, but moved to the end of the bar, wanting a moment to glimpse the others that he had been told were expected to arrive for the same purpose as he, what he hadn't expected, were the number of Elven and those of Elven blood to be here as well, which he found to be curious.

The Barkeep stepped his way then asked what he would like to drink, Tanure noted the slight look of distain that crossed the Human males face when he noticed yet another Elve in his Tavern. Tanure looked at the Barkeep with a perk brow, "Seriously?...do you think you have anything to offer that could even possible compare to an Elven wine?...I'm here to meet the Human in the iron armor, nothing more". The Barkeep Scoffed with irritation and walked away as Tanure reached for his flask of Elverquisst and took a sip, savoring the taste of blended fruits before returning the flask to his pouch, then decide to wait a moment or two for the group gathered around the iron clad Warrior to settle.