“Mmm,” Atzar offered by way of reply, withdrawing the still-bleeding thumb of his left hand under the bar and out of sight. He glanced at the newcomer.

She was small blonde woman a bit younger than himself, he guessed. The most notable thing was her bearing – her speech and posture suggested some sort of nobility. Momentary indecision struck him as questions flitted through his mind. Was she actually a noble? If so, what was the proper way to act? But the doubt came and went quickly, and Atzar put on a small smile. He shifted towards her slightly to include her in the nothing he was doing.

“Isn’t too bad, really.” He put a little more effort into the response this time. A loud peal of thunder followed, and the mage grinned in acknowledgement of nature’s retort. “Okay, maybe it is.”

The bartender brought drinks then, the wizard a foaming glass of beer, the young woman her water. He raised it to his lips for a sip, then made a face. Warm. He passed his right hand over the drink, a quick, needless gesture that Atzar figured made for better theater than the truth. A layer of frost grew on his glass as the drink chilled to a more palatable temperature. Meanwhile, a small droplet of blood fell to the floor as he withdrew his metal barb out of his concealed left thumb. Blood for power. That was the price of his magic… but nobody needed to know about that part. He was still coming to grips with it himself.

He took another sip and nodded his contentment. Satisfied, he turned back to the young woman.

“Traveling?” he queried the young woman beside him. “Can’t imagine why else you’d be in a place like this.” He offered his hand. "Atzar, by the way."