[color=lightgreen][center][h3][i][b]Day 1: 17:21:16 The World's End Pub Village of Pristupin, Libor Province Republic of Polavia [/b][/i][/h3][/center][/color][hr] Walking in, having to duck slightly to avoid the low doorframe, is a very tall tanned man with a curling mustache, a vest with many cyndrilical pockets that circle his entire torso, and strange bulky cuffs around his wrists and ankles. He chuckles watching the exchange of the typical Polavian greeting of loud death threats and drink accusations, and knocks on the bar lightly. "Da, just pull a cheap bottle of whisky down and hand it to me. These jackasses are probably going to be at it until you kick them out, so I might as well get enough now that I don't have to come back." Bottle of whisky in hand, he moves over to the rest of the reunion and sits gingerly in a bar stool. It creaks menacingly under him, but doesn't give out. Yet. He sighs, and pours himself about half a glass that he sips "So, I recognize some of you. Borys, good to see you. Lyons, you arsehole. Rox, I think I was your van in... what was it, fucking Samiya? You saved my ass, and I never got around to giving you a drink for that. Seems like we got ourselves a regular reunion here." *He relaxes the tiniest bit, and that's when the barstool gives out. It crumbles apart beneath him, the wood snapping like popsicle sticks, and Keodis slams onto the ground, laying there with his glass and bottle still on the counter. ". . . I fucking hate bar stools." He slowly stands up, brushing off wood splinters and dust, before grabbing his tumbler and bottle, and moving to a booth where he sprawls out and hammers back the rest of the glass, before refilling it.