The careful onlooker would notice that there was a brief interruption in which An-Hasst appeared to stop moving completely and just stared at Yaroslav. So this mage had been on the battlefield himself ? How interesting... The Skayleigh looked askant at him, then slowly let his hand slide along the other man's. He retracted it without shaking that of Yaroslav. Would the mage notice this indication of him not being amused ? An-Hasst didn't think so because he already seemed engaged in talking with Alice.

The Skayleigh didn't care. It would have been a lie not to say that he had started fighting with the more unstable parts of his personality. In fact, it had not been that long ago that he had lost his job as a doorman for another tavern. In an outburst he had exploited his giant heritage to beat the shit out of a particularly annoying guest who had thrown a barrage of insults at him. He realized that it was of utmost importance to not let this happen again right here right now. The half-elf didn't feel the need to show much mercy with Yaroslav, but the task at hand sounded far too grave for letting his personal aversions infiltrate the coherence of their group [i]too[/i] much.

"An-Hasst Ahal" he said while he was lifting himself back up again. It already was more directed towards the woman than towards Yaroslav. There appeared to be a bit of an accent in her speech, but right now he didn't care about. It didn't sound like Andred and that was sufficient. After all, he wasn't eager to disturb their dialogue.

The next destination of what possibly many of the people around here would consider a walking tower was the counter. One could hear his deep voice ordering one of the local beverages. When he returned, he was swaying a liquid looking like beer in a rather large tankard and sticking his nose into the evaporating smell. Judging by his facial expression, it didn't taste that good for him, but An-Hasst found his coins to be too valuable to become wasted. The skayleigh made a chug-a-lug out of it. Would a more ordinary elf have allowed himself to spill some drops of it onto his clothing ? He used his arm to collect all the items he had spread out onto the desk in one go and dropped them back into the elven silk bag before sitting down again.

Even with this overwhelming amount of muscle attached to his frame he just had to put his slimness at a serious challenge, because... He was unleashing an all-out offensive against the meal on the table as if there was no tomorrow to care about. Between the loads of food he forced into his mouth, he still managed to speak to Beren: "Sooo... I'm An-Hasst Ahal. What's your name ? I guess you're a great fighter, aren't you ?" He knew back in his head that there was still a request pending he had directed at Vanya, but that would be a short interruption and nothing more. At least so he hoped.

[@Lacks][@The Fated Fallen][@POOHEAD189]