[center][img]https://i.imgur.com/hCxZFym.png?1[/img]
[img]https://fontmeme.com/permalink/190516/9d118031b8a8b9946458a6c52ed77a0c.png[/img][/center][center][sub][color=darkgray][color=white][b]::[/b] [/color]the laughing worg tavern [color=white][b]//[/b] [/color] thorinn [color=white][b]::[/b][/color][/color][/sub][/center][indent][indent][hr]
Graves slunk forward in his seat, his shoulders sunken with the weight of some unseen burden. Good posture wasn't something that had come naturally to him. He spent much of his time in real life sitting in front of a cash register at a shitty gas station for hours at a time- it was easy to develop bad habits during that time. His mother used to get onto him about it all the time. Somewhere along the way, though, she just stopped bothering. 

It wasn't a problem [i]Graves[/i], the prickly mercenary, had. Graves was a confident warrior that walked with his chest out and head held high, like he didn't have anything in the world to fear.

Pulling his chair forward so he could rest the weight of his arms on the table, the slouching man turned his attention toward Tessa. She was always tinkering every time he saw her. Always chiseling away at some knickknack, doodad or trinket that she'd pawn off at the market for a couple of coins. Graves figured it was because she needed the money, but...the fervency and constancy of it made him question that.

So her stopping to speak demanded that he sit up (if only a little) and pay attention.

[i][color=crimson]'You wanna exploit these people for money?'[/color] [/i] He thought, disgusted, his nose crinkling up in instant revulsion at the idea. She was so casual about it, as if making money off the back of genuine terror was the only logical thing to do. It was difficult for him to imagine that just a few days ago this same woman was having a panic attack at the idea of dying in one of those dungeons. And now she was talking about going back in- and for a reason like [i]that[/i]?

[color=crimson]"Sounds like a good way to die to me."[/color] He grunted, brushing off his immediate revulsion as self-preservation. [color=crimson]"That last dungeon killed Vulcan n' it wasn't exactly s'posed to be top tier shit. Running anything right now is suicidal at best."[/color]

There had to be something they could do to keep occupied that wasn't throwing themselves into the lions den and hoping for the best. What, he wasn't sure- but Graves couldn't keep himself stuck up in some tavern drinking away his digital liver forever.

He was glad to see that Tessa was getting up, though; it gave him a decent excuse to head out after Rael. They'd lost too many party members already, and she was a little [i]too[/i] useful to let wander off into the aether alone like that. Graves hoped they'd run into Tiff while they were out, too. He hadn't a clue where she'd gone off to. Taking up what meager belongings he had with him, he dropped a few coins on the table and made his way toward the door, hopefully with Tessa right on his tail.

They hadn't gotten too far at all before Graves spotted a scene in the middle of the road. Some chick knocked on her ass, probably by some asshole in a hurry, and some guy stopping to help her out. It wasn't as uncommon a thing to see in Post-Panic Thorinn- everybody here had lost any semblance of good manners. He was honestly surprised the entire place hadn't descended into total anarchy yet. [color=crimson]"You see Red anywhere, Two Chains? She couldn'ta gotten far..."[/color]

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