Things settled in much more quickly than Storm had anticipated, as adults began acting like adults in spite of themselves. The little barkeep was reasonable and charming, settling the froglike little abominations into seats and feeding them drinks with panache. Shinsou had silently offered him the honey-mead blend of whiskey that never failed to produce a smile. Philomel had also welcomed Shinsou in with the call of a siren, breaking the hearts of the would-be suitors who had abandoned ship in their attempts to win her hand. Her fondness for Storm’s former brother-at-arms cut the wizard some, however pragmatism stole any significant swell of jealousy.

For all her charms, she came as advertised. Never was a one-man type of woman, and you never exactly focused your efforts on domesticating her. Plus, Shin was there first, and when he did bother to show up, he is decent enough.

Storm shifted the tumbler beneath his nose, breathing in the sweet, almost saccharine scent of the honey blend. It hadn’t been heavily turned, and would be a candy-like treat to push him further down the rabbit hole. The first swallow was warm and coated his throat like cough medicine. His cheeks instantly flushed a touch with the alcohol’s gentle hug, holding him together and dulling his sharpened edge.

Will these little walking geckos make nice? Maybe they’d work for me; I could use a flock of footmen that follow orders blindly.

Sidling over to the bar, Storm fixed his hair back firmly against his head, repositioning the dress shirt into its perfect compartments and smiled once more at the little barkeep.

“My friend brought a honey whiskey in, the first one went down like rain. Do you have any more? I’d pop a cask for these new guests to bury the hatchet if it serves you.”

As though through sheer happenstance, Storm flipped his hand from nowhere and produced a handful of golden crowns, which he proudly flipped on the smooth bartop in front of the large crowd of small individuals. By magnetically pulling them from his pocket, he had managed to create quite the alchemist’s dream.

“Allow me to start fresh here – I may have enchanted this intimidating fellow’s sword because I don’t want anyone getting hurt in here. I think, like me, you folks are probably not from town. My name is Storm Veritas; I hail from Corone but it seems those assholes don’t much care for me these days. Some find me famous, others just look to find me.”

He had been far too wordy for the simple little monsters, who turned to him with wide, bugged eyes and a litany of shining colors from their reptilian skins. They were a fine blend of something between annoyed, confused, and angered with him.

Take Two.

“I bought you drinks.”