Without another word, Michael turned away and made his way to the bar counter.
"A drink," he said, placing a few coppers down.
The bartender, an older man with a thick beard, gave him a once-over before nodding.
Moments later, a wooden mug filled with dark liquid was placed in front of him.
Michael took a sip and let the burn settle in his throat.
It tasted bitter.
Yet.
It also tasted oddly good.
It was a conflicting taste for Michael.
He wasn't a drinker, but tonight, he found himself in the mood for it.
He was curious about it.
It somehow also made sense to take one.
The day had been productive, but there was still much to do. More quests to take. More experience to gain. More power to accumulate.
As he sat there, thoughts raced through his mind.
Ace and Lia lingered for a moment longer, as if expecting Michael to call them back. But he didn't.
