Hark pushed open the door to the tavern and walked in headed for the innkeeper to get himself another drink. He hoped the innkeeper would just give him a drink without much trouble even though he had been kicked out earlier for challenging another drinker to a knife throwing competition which had ruined one of his daughter’s, Beth, paintings. He set down two coins on the counter, one for the painting and one for the ale, “Here you go now hopefully you can forgive me and fill my cup.” Hark said to the man but it was clear the words had passed right over his head as he was looking out into the crowd which Hark didn’t notice at first. There was the usual lot and then two apparent knights, the plainsmen which Hark wasn’t fond of, and a tiefling. 

Hark rapped the innkeeper which seemed to break his trans, “The hell is going on here?” The innkeeper just sighed and rubbed his Broward pulled out a jug of ale to fill Hark’s cup, “That young fool of a knight there just challenged damn near half the bar to a fight.” Hark raised and eyebrows and waited for his cup to be filled before he took it and turned to the crowd again. It always puzzled Hark why these young knights always seamed to be so eager to start fights. For the time being though Hark has just sat himself back in the seat and waved to Beth who was positioned rather awkwardly in the middle, “Yeah Beth you might want to wait over here with me.” He said to his childhood friend who slowly backed away from the confrontation and moved over to Hark.