"What'll be your poison, my good Sir?" - Elderi was glad to be noticed, smiling widely. [i]Poison, hmmm usually I would go for Drofe Snake blood, cuts their nervous down in a heartbeat.[/i] But of course the large fellow meant drink. 

[color=6ecff6]"Your finest Whispering Wine you happen to have, a Fiery Tongue if not. 45th legion if possible. Oh and a plate of your special, if you would be so kind!"[/color] 

With this Elderis right hand became normal once more and withdrew to his pocket, picking a platinum coin from the mass of them that sat there, waiting to be spent. 
[color=6ecff6]" If you have change that would be agreeable,"[/color] he remarked as he placed it on the table, the arena crest up. [@SimplyJohn]

Elderis right hand began to elongate, his fingers melding into one another and his auburn skin melting away to a cold steel. The tip of the blade sharpened and took the form of a dart. With but a hairs width of steel holding the dart to the rest of Elderis arm he flicked it behind his shoulder, and watched as it streaked toward the dart board. 

To his horror however the dart pinged off the metal rim that circled the bull's-eye, ricocheting off into the tavern in an unknown direct.

Biting his lip and sloping forward onto the bar, his arms returned to their auburn colour and his hands to their 5 digits. 

[i]I only hope that didn't hit anyone...[/i]