Anya
He rubs his forehead, "I'm an old man, I just got off a job protecting a caravan from the Forsworn. Now I'm in a hold which I despise because of said Forsworn, so I guess you can say I'm not in a great mood."
Craig
He gives a half chuckle "I.. I can get that.. Want me to buy you a round then? Maybe a sweetroll?" He said cocking a brow as he asked.. "Maybe you could tell me bout it?" He said as he's given another bottle and he begins to drink it down. "I know abit of storytelling and mead helps me relax after dealing with the shit hole we call markarth.." He rubbed his temple in both annoyance and embarrassment of the forsworn..
Anya
He laughs, "No, no, I'm good." He says, he has this pained look about him, not emotional pain though, physical, like he's been injured, he continues, "What's your name, kid." He asks, "You started talking but never introduced yourself."
Craig
He smiled "I'm Uvrel.. May I ask your name too?" He said with a grin.. As he noticed them abit in pain he asks "Hey.. Did you get hurt during your last job? Forsworn poison ain't no joke... Nore their curses... I got some potions if you need.." He said a tad bit concerned the fella contracted some peryite death disease
Anya
"That's a Reachman name. Though I guess I can't be one to judge. The name's Odvan." He says, "None of their poisons can do anything I haven't already dealt with. And your potions won't do anything for me." He says with a laugh, "My wounds go much deeper. Let's just say the wonderful Forsworn took something from me that I can't get back."
Craig
He smiled "Yes it is... No relation to the forsworn.. Fuck em.." He said with a grumble near the end. Then he listens to him talk about what they took. He looks mortified for a second.. And then he realizes you meant something else. He tapped his chest and said "You mean.. That?" He asked with curiosity..
Anya
"Suppose you could say that." He says, "But you should avoid talking about it, it's a sore subject, and I'm not exactly in a sharing mood."
Craig
He nods "I.. I get that.." He said downing the 2nd bottle of mead.. His face is flushed. "Sorry.. Hold on.. Imma need a second I'm .. I'm... A lightweight." He shook his face trying to shake the slight need to barf away
Anya
"Innkeep. Get the kid a glass of water." He says, setting a few septims on the bar, "You should know your limits by now."
Craig
He smiled "Thanks.." He said "I never learn from.. My former mistakes.." He said groaning... When he gets the water he chugs it down like a man dying of thirst.
Pamela
*A tall, slender, dark-green Argonian wearing a leather cuirass over dull-colored Nibenese-style peasant's clothes, armed with a bow and carrying a single-strap pack slung over one shoulder, stumbles in through the door, clutching her right side. Her armor and clothing on that side are stained red, illuminating the cause of the stumbling. Regardless of the clear physical pain, she seems mentally quite calm and collected about the whole thing.*

*Paying no mind to the other two customers in the inn, she drops her pack, quiver, and bow at an empty table, and walks up to the bar, still clutching at her side.*

"Bartender. Strongest thing you have. And some water. Quick." *She says, rather bluntly.*

*After receiving what she ordered, she limps back to the table where she left her pack. With both hands now occupied, it is revealed that her tunic, at the point where she is clutching her side, is torn, and under it are bandages, which are being bled through. She takes a swig of the strong drink, and the pain on her face disappears. She then removes a travel-sized alchemy set and a pouch of ingredients from her pack and begins working with it, still paying no mind to the others in the room, for now. Intent on getting this more pressing matter done with first.*
Anya
He raises a glass, "I've been there!" He says, "Cheers to you, lizard." He laughs pretty, hard, before groaning in pain, "Yep, shouldn't have done that." He coughs a bit
Craig
He looked over and sucked his teeth "Ooh thsts gotta hurt ..." He said looking over to the argonian. "Y... You need a healing potion?" He asking slurring his words abit looking in his pack drunkenly checking his potions.
Pamela
*She looks up for a moment.*

"I'm making one right now. But... Thanks for the offer." *She goes back to her work, not denying or accepting, mainly because she was unsure if she'd finish before the man would be able to find one, drunk as he was.*

"Serves me right going out in the Reach without restocking first." *She said as she worked.* "Damn Forsworn archers... If I wasn't Argonian we probably wouldn't be having this conversation, given what the lucky bastard who hit me put on that arrow."
Anya
"Reachmen and their poisons. Cheap tactic to get an easy but undeserved kill. I'm shocked Hircine even pays any mind to them at this point." He says, rolling his eyes, "Is it even a hunt if the prey dies hours after a grazing blow."
Craig
"I mean I'd say so.. The cunning hunter and all.. Like spiders,... Scorpions... Or snakes!" He said "Y'know... Using... Using your knowledge to help ya when ya fail..." He said slowly . Mostly trying to firn words while abit drunk
Pamela
*The Argonian shrugged.* "I'm not against using poisons myself. Just have to make sure I'm only cooking for myself if I hunt with them." *She smirked at her own joke as she kept working.*

"What matters, though, is that they certainly chose the wrong mark to use it on." *At that, she took the water she had ordered and mixed it with everything else she had mixed together. Just a bit of heat for a few minutes and the healing potion would be done. She began to take the concoction over to the inn's fireplace.*
Anya
"To each their own. But it's damn annoying." He says, "You're real handy with alchemy, eh?" He asks, "Do you take orders? I've been meaning to stock up on some poison and disease cures."
Craig
He chuckled at the joke. "I mean.. We could go... Do something about em.. If y'all'd like to." He said with a grin. "When... When I sober up of course." He said chuckling. He checked his pack for what potions he had for the occasion
Pamela
"I typically don't take orders, but I'm sure I could make one or two now with the supplies I have available. You'll get a better price from me than from some city alchemist, is for sure." *She replied to the orc.*

*She took a set of fireplace tongs from the side of the fire and used them to hold the almost-potion over the fire, sitting down while she did it, and turned her attention back to the others.*

"We *Could* Do something about them. I was on a job to retrieve something from a ruin the group that did this was squatting on, anyways. Mercenary work. The employer didn't say anything about Forsworn using it as a camp when they hired me." *She sighed.* "Though, they *Probably* Didn't know."