"I'm hardly a 'Brave Warrior,' just a half-noble bastard with a gun and a knife." He sighed. "To be perfectly honest, there are better options out there, but I'm the cheapest one. Plus, a lot of these people are distrustful of newcomers. If they see you with someone they've worked alongside, like myself, you'll incur a lot less suspicion." He was going to say something else when one of the bar-goers stumbled towards him. Alek recognized him. His name was Owen, they used to be co-workers. From the looks of things, Owen was well and truly drunk.

"Aleksander!" He slurred. "Wait. That is you, right Alek?"

"Yeah, Owen." He said, inflecting his voice in order to sound less-than-sober. "How are you." Owen looked from Fyaira to Alek with a knowing smile.

"Worse off than you, apparently." He laughed. "Alek, you cheap dog. How could you take a nice lady out to a place like this?"

"Times are tough, friend." He looked at Fyaira with his best fake-drunken smile. "Now if you'd excuse us, things were about to get [i]interesting.[/i]" Owen laughed and walked away. When he was out of ear shot, Alek cleared his throat with a slight blush. "My apologies. Now, if you accept my offer, follow me. I've got a plan." Without waiting for an answer he briskly walked towards the door of the establishment. He stepped outside and cringed when he realised that a few of the drunks outside were singing a tune about the way the kings head rolled about on the floor.