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"I kind of like mine, but we could try if you want. What is yours?" Dal asked.

"I'm Irriwen. What's your name?" Irri asked, catching onto the fact that the orc wasn't the quickest. She knew she wasn't either, so that was okay.

"Dalog gro Malnon," the Orc replied. "Most people call me Dal, though. You could, too, if you want...unless we trade names, of course."

Anaril drank the rest of his mead and said; "Man, I never was that good with mead. I'm going to get some fresh air." He got up and left the tavarn, slightly going side to side whilst doing so.

"No, I suppose you're right. I like my name too." Irri said. "I'm pleased to meet you, Dal. Are you a Mercenary, like the rest of those clowns?"

Anaril stepped outside, he leaned against the wall and took deep breaths; ignoring Dal and Irri.

"If you mean someone who does jobs for money, then yes," said Dal. He scratched absently at the back of his head. "And you, sir?"

"I do jobs for money, too." Irri said, glad for the vague parameters the Orc had presented.

"Good. You seem nicer than those other guys. Even though the cats are pretty, they talk too much," Dal said. He noticed the bow the Bosmer was carrying. "You do arc..eh...arsh......you shoot arrows?"

Jar popped his head up, starting awake. "Wha-what?" he muttered quietly. He stood up and walked into the inn, not really knowing what he was doing.

After a few breaths, Anaril felt less drunk so he walked over to Dal and Irri and said; "That Brandoril guy is a dick."

Ra'zhar stood. "Ra'zhar shall be outside." he said, striding out of the tavern.

Dal is a popular guy today. Too bad I'm not popular with people who need stuff done, the Orc thought. He looked at the Altmer who had approached. This one must be a girl, such long pretty hair. "Yes, ma'am. I think I agree," he stated plainly.

"Yes, I am an archer..." Irriwen replied to Dal, though she was interrupted by Anaril.

"Thank you for your assessment." She said curtly to the Altmer.

Gives-Out-Shadow nodded. "I will wait then." He stated to Ra'Zhar. He gulped at his drink.

Ra'zhar eyed the new arrival, the wood elf, with curiosity.
It's turning from a good day to a boring day. Something needs to happen to pick things up.

Anaril looked at Dal and corrected him; "I'm no ma'am, do orcs always have trouble identifying genders?" He laughed.

Dal's face grew somber as he apologized. "I'm sorry. I just thought...with your pretty red hair." Dal stopped speaking and looked down at his knees.

Alanir laughed, the orc not only made him laugh but also made him feel sorry. He patted Dal on the back; "Cheer up! You done nothing wrong. Rather, you complimented me!" Anaril exclaimed.

Dal still felt ashamed and continued to stare down at his scarred knees. How many other tines have I done that? he wondered.

Anaril leaned against the wall and put his hand into a position for a handshake, he followed that with; "Name's Anaril, pleased to meet you both."

Dal took Anaril's hand in his own, careful not to grasp too tightly. "Dalog gro Malnon, but most people just call me Dal. You can too, if you want," the Orc repeated.

"I shall too, Dal." Anaril said before offering his handshake to Irri.

"I'm Irriwen." Irri said, tight-lipped, not taking the proffered hand.