Despite himself, Garran blushed a bit as Fiora's tiny hand slipped into his grasp. Nevertheless, he eclipsed hers with his own and laughed as raucously as ever. "Sure, why not lassie, thar always be room in me belly fer grog!" he shouted as he slapped his scorched abdomen. Caelum laughed once, before turning away into the recesses of the mansion. "Run along you two, I still have work to do here," he said as he flexed his old, yellowed wings, "besides, I still have to explain to the constable what happened here, and I'd rather you two not be at the scene of the crime to mess up the story." Garran threw him a little look, before shrugging and turning to Fiora. "Whassay we head 'n down t' the port 'nd see what bars are open lass?" he asked with a grand smile on his face, "ev'ry drink 's on me t'day! Lessee if ye c'n outdrink ye old cap'n!"

In the dingy bar of the "Saucy Stallion" within the merchant's district, the two humans found refuge among their kind. It was still a little gaudy for Garram's taste, but being a newcomer to this city, he didn't see anything better, and so he entered with his companion, still holding her hand. A few wolf whistles went up as the two walked through the door, as well as a few shudders as they caught sight of the massive tear in Garran's cheek, revealing the inner musclature of his mouth. Taking a seat in one of the more secluded booths, Garran was served a tankard of heavy ale without even asking, which he promptly slammed down in three gulps. As Fiora's drink finally came, and Garran's was refilled, they toasted various things together. Their health. The health of their party, Their mutual survival, and the rest was just drowned out in a flurry of empty tankards. 

Halfway through his next tankard, Garran caught a glimpse of a group of men drawing nearer to their table. As they came closer however, they seemed to totally ignore him. "Hey pretty lady, how about you dump that ugly arse you've got there and come have some fun with us?" said the one one in the lead, a skinny little beanpole with too much ego for his own good. Before Fiora could speak, Garran stood up to his full height, shadowing the little twat and blocking out the sun. "Turn ar'nd 'nd leave, laddie," Garran warned with a smile and pleasant tone, "this lass be with me." Turning to him with a smug look on his face, the man scoffed. "I believe I was talking to the madame, you overgrown gorilla," he said haughtily. Laughing uproariously, Garran leaned in closer, before grabbing him by the folds of his tunic and lifting him off his feet. "Unhand me brute!" he shouted indignantly as he tried to pry Garran's massive, ham-like fists off, "do you know who I am?! My father is the great merchant-!"
"I dn't give a crap, lad," Garran said, the smell of cheap alcohol on his breath causing the man to turn away in disgust. Leaning in closer, Garran smiled even wider, emphasising the various scars on is face, especially his missing cheek. "D'ye wanna know how I got these scars lad?" he whispered menacingly as their eyes locked again. The man remained silent, suddenly cowed by his sheer size. With a sudden lurch, Garran threw his head forwards and cracked it into the rich ponce's forehead, knocking his unconscious. Throwing his limp body to the ground, he turned in time to see one of his lackeys draw a knife from his belt. "C'mon lad, that be nothin' more than a pin!" he shouted as he doubled over in laughter. Enraged, the man stepped forwards and made a stab, but the pirate grabbed his wrist and tyanked upwards. With a belly churning crunch, he tightened his grip, and the man screamed as he grasped at his arm. Dropping him back to the ground next to his unconscious master, he revealed that with a simple grinding of his hand, he had snapped the bones in his wrist and forearm. The knife, tiny in the goliath's grasp, was thrown into the ground beside him. 

Turning back to Fiora, he beamed brightly, as if nothing had happened. "So, whar were we?" he asked as he took a step forward, before there was a sudden snap and a shower of splinters. Being forced over, Garran was silent for a second as one of the bar patrons slammed a chair over his head, breaking the piece of furniture. Silence occupied the entire bar. Slowly, laughter permeated the room, coming from the pirate himself. Turning to his aggressor, he grabbedhim by the face and lifted him up. "I guess yer lookin' fer trouble, matey," he said as he smiled widely, a single drop of blood making its way down his face, staining his fair, "and guess what? Ye just FOUND IT!" With those final two words, he cast the man into the wall opposite him. it was then that all hell broke loose. Cheeking, fighting and breaking furniture.