((Not my best work, but its something :3))
"Boy, that there is Elvish Long Qui, best stuff them folk got at their disposal... Either you drink since you ordered it, or.."
"Barkeep, I didn't order anything of the sort!! I said "Give me something thats strong" as in ALCOHOLIC CONTENT, not smell... Wait, is it bubbling?"
Mercanor sat at the bar of the "Muddy Pig Inn and Tavern", staring down at the strange purple liquid that had been placed in front of him. The liquid was almost solidified, it acted just like half-hardened mud would and it reeked of troll sweat. Even the other patrons of the bar looked at the drink nervously, every one of them on edge about him taking a sip of the liquid. Mercanor shook his head, which almost caused the leather strap around his head to come loose and reveal his pointed ears which would've been strange on a boy who looked human in every way aside from his slightly pale skin tone. He swallowed nervously and took the mug in his hands, holding it slowly to his lips. He closed his eyes and winced slightly, expecting the worst as he poured the liquid down his throat. It was thick and slimy, but it tasted sweet and crisp, almost like a mid-summers day. If he could describe it, it would've tasted like the combinations of a fine grape wine mixed with a sweetest of honeys.
He placed the mug down and shook his head, grinning happily as he did so. "Bartender, I must say, I had my doubts about that... But that may very well be the best damn drink I've ever had." he said, sliding the bearded man behind the counter a small pile of coins before he sat up and walked away. Suddenly, from somewhere in the room, a voice called "By the Gods, Merc, this place smells like pig-shit. Lets get out while we still have the ability to breath.. Oh, right, I can't anymore.."
Mercanor turned bright red and chuckled, looking around like the other patrons before he ran out of the tavern and into an alley, before he unsheathed his sword as held it in front of him as he saw the small steel face return on the edge of the blade. "Xanderian, are you TRYING to get us captured or killed? Do you know how many of those men almost saw my ears and how many almost found out the voice came from YOU?! An enchanted blade is rare around these parts and if anyone ever figured out what you really WERE, then not only would you be sent off to some king or something as his prize, but you'd never get to return to your body and you would be tasked with making MORE of yourself." Mercanor angrily whispered before he sheathed the sword. "I'm sorry Merc, okay? Geez... Look, your talking to a bloody sword so maybe we should think of laying low... Wait, I know. Lets just get out of here. Maybe its about time we left Caddale... Who knows, maybe somebody 'round here's got a reason for us to leave." Xanderian replied from his sheath. Mercanor shrugged, not wanting to argue with the sharp-edged weapon (which would've just been weird) and walked into the streets, searching for possible signs for fellow adventurers...