[@ShadowKnight]

Clay had just finished pulling on a pair of ‘emergency jeans’ that he had long since learned to strategically leave around the place. They were denim and despite being hidden away, still appeared well worn and aged. 

He got up to standing with a loud groan and a slow heavy exhalation at the top. Lines of deep gashes ran along his ribs on the left and amongst the blood, the skin was already swollen and bruised with dark shades of blue and purple.

He smiled at the newcomer, a wide, teeth baring, [i]wolf’s grin[/i]. 
[i]”Rough day”[/i] he repeated pondering. [i]”Guess it’s been a bit slow. Dropped me drink earlier, that was kinda disappointing...”[/i]

His eyes scanned over the gold. He couldn’t quite hide that glimmer of excitement from them. That faint reflection that gold causes in many men, despite needing it or not, regardless how much they might have, that hungry greed. 

Had it been silver he placed on the table instead, it still would have been enough for what he was asking. But still, clay picked up a coin and pretended to examine it.

[i]”Hmm, this currency isn’t really recognised here, but I’ll see what I can do. Just chuck a few more on the bar if the drinks look to be getting a little too light for your tastes.”[/i]

With that he gives a small nod, collects the coins along with a bottle of whiskey and heads out back into the kitchen. A short moment later the door bursts open to a fluttering of leathery bat-like wings as a dozen small, wide eyed, oil skinned, shadow imps fly out carrying mugs and bottles of various ales and wines.