Vrek soon enough arrives to pub, it's not that far away since the busiest business happens around the docks, at least in the alcohol frontiers. He manages to squeeze in from the doors that have been enlarged once before for his shape, but it was years ago when he was younger, and well, smaller.. The owner never agreed to do it second time, and besides, the oil his skin oozes helps him slip through the doors and fixes up any possible cracks he leaves behind too. He sits on his personal seat, it's a wooden barrel filled with sand and reinforced four times with iron bars and more wood around it. He doesn't even have to speak, the attractive barmaid, which he totally does not have slight crush on, carries six pints of finest ale before him, and he pays some extra more than happily for it, and a glance down her cleavage.