[@Snarfulblast]
Dimitri raised an eye at the man's ostentatious display of his wealth, but didn't argue with the man. Putting away the Moon-beam, he produced a pint and a half mug, filling it until a quarter way was left with a massive jug of Dwarven whiskey. He left the jug on the counter for FM to use at his discretion. If this man proved to be trouble and not able to handle his drink, Dimitri was ready. Underneath was a sawn-off shotgun, enchanted to break through any magical defense and sustained wounds. He gave a look to a nearby table of off-duty guards, who gave him a reassuring nod.

"Dwarven whiskey, sir. Enjoy," Dimitri answered, dipping his head slightly. "What brings you to my bar, of all places, sir?" He swiped the two bags with a quickness of hand that belied his stately posture. The gold had disappeared as quickly as it had been put down, tucked into the man's apron pockets. Grabbing a different rag, Dimitri applied a small amount of soap and water. He began to slowly wipe down the counter in small circular motions, starting at the end where the gnome and newcomer sat.