Crom gripped the hand that was offered to him tightly and shook it. "Glad to meet you, Griff, Adrian." He nodded to each of his new acquaintances. They both seemed interested in joining them in their journey west. Griff had talked about the coming war and had mentioned the League. Crom had no stake in the coming conflict. He knew better than to believe every story he had heard about either side, having seen similar propaganda during Esterl's wars. Johnathon seemed content with the possibility of traveling with the two newcomers. "Aye. It's always better to have some company on the road." The grizzled man took a long drink from his flagon before placing it on the bar. The cup was empty. What was it now? Four, Five drinks? It didn't really matter, he was rarely able to keep track anymore. By this point, Crom smelled strongly of alcohol, but due to his almost constantly drinking barely felt drunk a all. He eyed the door again. He could still hear muffled voices just outside the door, but couldn't make out the words. The soldier's hand touched the pommel of his weapon briefly. He sincerely hoped it wouldn't come to having to draw his blade.