Crom glanced down at the weapon and smirked. "Well thank you." He was surprised to not hear the typical "So where'd you steal it from?" It seemed they would be leaving the establishment sooner rather than later. The bartender seemed to be motioning for them to leave. Crom looked around, hearing the conversation outside escalate into combat. Probably best that they were getting out of the tavern. Crom threw down a handful of coins on the bar. "Two bottles of the strongest drink you've got, mate." The bartender looked a bit skeptical, but after noticing the pile of coins ran to the back and returned, handing him two bottles of a sickly-looking green liquid. Crom hadn't the slightest idea what it was, but it looked like it'd do the trick. "Right then, let's go." The mercenary said, while sliding the small green bottles into the pockets of his cloak. He stood up, without the slightest wobble, surprising considering his alcohol consumption. He looked over at his new comrades. Griff seemed to be the most concerned with escaping, perhaps he had a good reason... The soldier decided it was none of his business. Adrian, on the other hand, looked quite drunk. Crom hoped the boy could walk.