Between boredom, damn fine whisky, and a lack of anyone staging a stick-up in the Promenade, Breaker had settled into an old habit. He'd leaned back in his chair, boots still stacked, eyes closed, and eavesdropped on every conversation in the place. A woman by the bar had recently learned of her pregnancy. Two men by the entryway were considering robbing a transport of the queen's gold. And a giant had recently walked into the bar.

Josh had not thought much of it. No one had reacted in horror, so clearly this was a friendly giant. And rather a small one at that. Perhaps a half giant, or an ogre, although that was not possible. Breaker would have smelled an ogre. Overall, it did not appear a matter for concern until the giant lumbered up to Breaker's table.

Right. The oversized chair.

The demigod opened his eyes with a broad grin on his face.

“This must be your chair,” he said, looking way up at the enormous man. “My apologies.” He unstacked his boots and dusted the seat with his palm, and then gestured at the table. “Please join me.”

The look on the giant's face said he'd expected to be feared, but Josh saw only another patron, albeit one thrice the size of himself... a mighty man, by mortal standards. Breaker had slain mauls in the Red Forest of Raiaera, had grappled griffins in the arid deserts of Fallien, and knocked out native drakari in the jungles of Dheathain. Sharing a table with a likely half-giant made a decent story in Breaker's mind, but only a decent one.

Still, one never knew. Perhaps the big fellow would share a good yarn or two of his own. He certainly looked like he had seen some battles, and perhaps some other horrors. He carried himself with a strong man's pride, and seemed peaceful, but his movement spoke of one capable of sudden violence.

“What's that you're drinking? And what's your name? I'm Joshua Cronen.”