He shrugged and descended the steps slowly. The people were evidently deep in their cups as the place was full of songs sung badly and music somewhere was being played. “Oh, sir, you’re up!” The barmare Handy never bothered to learn the name of spoke. He turned to see her trotting over, a tray in her mouth with foaming tankards. She nudged the tray closer to him, and he took a tankard gratefully. The ring on its side was unnecessarily big, but considering it was supposed to fit pony hooves, he guessed it made sense.