"Three ales." Blake slapped a gold coin on the counter.
      "I don't drink." Emeryl tried to tend to Blake's wounded arm but he refused to lift the cape off.
      "Who said they were for you? Two for me and one for the cat." He replied.
      The human barkeep stared at him queerly, brushing his sandy blond hair back and taking the money without a word.
      "Don't give the kitty alcohol!" Emeryl felt his heart pounding.
      "Not... Fluffy Kitty..." he grimaced at the cute name, "The other cat."
      "Huh?" Emeryl blinked and looked over at Bentora, who busied herself trying to fit her tail comfortably on the edge of the stool.
      The spider crawled out of Emeryl's bushel of hair and along his arm. Noticing it moving he held out both hands for it to crawl into.
      "I think he's grown." Emeryl stared at the baby spider.
      "What?" Blake glanced with the corner of his eye.
      "He almost doesn't fit in my hands anymore." He answered.
      "That's great." Blake sarcastically answered as he got three mugs of ale. Without a word he slid the first glass past Emeryl to Bentora's seat and took a large chug out of his own.
      Emeryl tripped into the barcounter when a man shoved him out of the way. Carefully he held the spider in the air as he clumsily tried to stand back up.
      "Excuse me." He groaned.
      "Don't you apologize to him, he pushed you! Hey! Hey!" Bentora twirled in her seat and grabbed the man's shoulder. He spun his head around to face her with his hazel eyes blazing.
      "Hey, back off you sideshow freak!" he slapped her hand off his shoulder.
      "Freak? You little!" she hissed.
      "No, no! No fighting!" Emeryl pleaded with spider in hand.
      Blake peered over his shoulder with interest, the mug still pressed to his lips. It only took Bentora a minute to decide to punch the man in the stomach. Calmly he set the mug down and stood up. By that time another person had joined in and they brawled against Bentora. Emeryl stayed back, holding his precious pet.
      "One bottle of anything." Blake dropped another gold piece on the counter. Silently the barkeep placed a bottle of cheap liquor on the counter. With a quick flick of his thumb across his nose Blake wrapped his fingers around the neck of the green bottle.
      Snapping his wrist the bottle shot through the air and burst on the back of the second man's neck. He promptly fell to the ground. All around the bar the racket brewed. Drunken townfolk and travelers joined in on the fight for no particular reason. With excitement flickering in his eyes, Blake raised the stool and smashed it on another man's head. Beside him Bentora lifted one of the men above her head. Helplessly he flailed his arms and legs until she hurled him at some of the other fighters.
      "Blake! Blake!" Emeryl nervously backed away until he sat on top of the counter.
      Ignoring the young elf Blake set what was left of the stool down. Another man charged him from the side, crashing a board on his arm. Wincing Blake stumbled out of the fray holding his arm. Soon after Emeryl crawled out, taking Blake and attempting to drag him out of the bar. Bentora wrestled with a few more people before realizing they were gone and prancing out after them.
      "I told you not to fight." Emeryl scolded as the spider crept to his head. Shivering, Blake remained silent.
      "Let me see." Emeryl slid the cape away from his shoulder to see the torn sleeve and the gash wounds that began bleeding again. They dragged him outside and rested in the shadow of the building.
      "Where are your bandages? I fixed that earlier." Emeryl pulled off the few strings of bandages left.
      "I cut it off." Blake huffed.
      "What for? Here, stay still." He wrapped the gauze around his arm and knotted it tightly. Blake didn't answer but stared intently at the ground.
      "Listen, I'd just heal you but I only have so much for that each day, and I'd like to save it for an emergency. I'll heal your arm tonight if nothing happens." Emeryl offered.
      "He just doesn't want anyone to know he's in pain." Bentora plopped down next to them. Blake glared at her harshly.
      "Look, it's Prism." Emeryl hopped to his feet. Prism, Eric and Leiko with a shiny new mace wandered out of the weapon's shop. They appeared slightly surprised to see the trio sitting outside of the bar.
      With fresh enthusiasm Emeryl rushed into the group, "Where are you going?"
      "To get Alan re-forged so he doesn't break." Eric smiled.
      Groaning, Blake staggered to his feet, carefully covering the new bandage with his cape. Bentora rolled to her feet, trotting to them.
      "I'm not going to ask you what you've been doing. We'll go give the sword to the smithy, get our spelunking equipment and stay at the inn tonight." Prism laid out the plan.
      "What have they been doing?" Leiko asked as the group began moving, "Hey! What have they been doing?"