Oh, for the sake of Mask… Iliskra thought as she crossed her arms and sighed aloud at Leon’s action. So much for complete discretion.

Ibdur had walked up beside Leon, hands on his axe hafts at the ready. The four local men looked between themselves and then at Leon, two of them letting out raspy laughs while the other two stared in aggravated disbelief. The larger of the latter looked at Leon with squinted eyes and a nasty sneer, half slurring, “Well… aren’t you the brave dandy fellow? Think you can just buy away our evening table for cheap with a threat stuck to the bottom of the tag?”

“‘Ey now,” grumbled the other of the more serious two, “look… we were about to leave anyway. Just… let ‘im have the table, Durgal.”

“Shove off, then,” the man Durgal said, tottering up from his chair to full height, which was almost a head above Leon, “I’ll be damned if some… whatever he be… is going to just try and tell me about like this. Even the captain has better m-manners…”

“Just stuff it and let’s go… you know what the captain said about anymore f-f-fights o-on land…” the other man said, lifting up from his own chair and putting a hand on his fellows’ breast in a show of retraining.

Durgal snorted and swatted the hand away but grumbled, “Fine.”

As he and his three fellows started around the table the large man pressed his pointer finger into Leon’s chest threateningly. “Ye should be thanking Tymora I have a strict captain and too light a head r-right now. You had best hope we not meet a-again.”

The four cleared away and headed for the door, Iliskra standing beside Leon now with her arms crossed firmly over her chest and one brow raised sharply.
“Leon, we are trying to remain unseen as we can be.” the half-elf chastised.

Nevertheless, Ibdur, Iliskra, and Leon had a table now, though Iliskra doubted the three would be up for long. All she wanted was a meal, a drink, and a bed. She looked around and noted that the place was rather empty given the size of it and the circumstances outside. There were maybe a dozen or so other patrons spread about tending to their plates and flagons in solitude. The upside of this was that there was likely a room available for the night.

“Leon, we are trying to remain unseen as we can be.”

"In a city where the 'guardsmen' are literally busting down doors and beating people in the streets, do you believe an aggressive bar fly is worth talking about?," Leon said, but sighed a bit afterwards. He was letting Elthel's attitude get to him and had little outlet for his frustrations since. "I apologize, I just wanted to ensure we had a favorable position in case of trouble and my foul mood is starting to show. Between being insulted, my assistance all but spat on, and threatened by people who owe us their lives... I could use a work out."

He had never really expected gratitude, hells, he would have been happy with even a shred of respect, but the opposite was something that stung at his pride and shortened his temper.

His appetite had faded, spoiled by the irritation he felt. He just wanted to sit down and talk with his companions about the day and this was the first time they had had since making contact with the individuals they now knew to be the remnants of the Talons. "Perhaps you two should simply do as you said and have a hot meal, a decent pint and a good night's rest. I am poor company tonight," he said, "I will be in a better state in the morning when I can remind myself how a professional is supposed to act."

He wasn't seeking pity, he just needed an outlet for his anger and he was not going to damage what little relationship he had built with his companions.