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</div><br/>You can’t choose what your good at. It’s just the way your born. At least that’s what Renard chose to believe. It made being a thief seem less wrong. Renard was good at stealing. It came easy to him, and when it didn’t, he got better. Renard was one of the best thieves in the land, which meant no one knew who he was. Renard had always been a Thief. Having always been trying to steal what other considered most valuable. He even developed a magical talent for stealing metaphysical properties. Things like spells, enchantments, statistics, or even vitality. This unique gift makes Renard much older then he looks.<br/><br/>Renard stood, back leaning against the bar. He pushed his glasses up his nose so he was looking more through them. The glasses themselves were bound with a spell to allow the wearer to ascertain power levels and value of things and people by looking through them. No one particularly noteworthy. Aside from a potential mage. Renard wasn’t quite sure what they were capable of, aside from watching him talking fire. ‘Victor’ had an abnormally high talent for magic. Renard was cautious as he wasn’t sure if he had fully tapped into that magic, and wasn’t really wanting to find out. Aside from that, another couple caught his attention. A woman on her late teens, and some creep who had brought her in while she was tied up. While he had untied her, or was curious. Renard thought maybe she was a hooker, as someone that young and attractive would’ve had their pick of suitors. Why would she settle on someone so creepy and strange looking. However, Renard’s spectacles shows neither had enough money on them to support such a theory. So, Renard was left with two theories. Either the guy had a great personality, or she was conning him.<br/>While she would fetch a few more gold pieces then the normal women, Renard didn’t sell to sex slavers any more. Too much hassle for too little a reward.<br/><br/>Renard decided he was too sober. He better drink something before he starts sticking out. Which made it hard to sneak up on people. Turning around to have the bar he flagged down the bartender, he had two requests. “Hey. Can I get a Dirty Pint? Oh, and any gossip as to adventures wouldn’t go amiss.” He said in a polite tone before dropping a handful of coins onto the counter.<br/><br/><div class="bbCodeSpoiler">
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<span>Spoiler: <span class="bbCodeSpoiler-button-title">OOC</span></span>
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<div class="bbCodeBlock-content">Look, I hate to do this, but it has seriously been bugging me. A single pet hate. I don’t want to be the guy that does this a lot, but this one gets to me on a personal level.<br/>
The word ‘Scotch’ when referring to a drink shouldn’t be used in a medieval fantasy setting. Especially not one with place names like Azaiba, or naming conventions like Argonian. Scotch is a relatively modern term. Meaning whisky from Scotland. Which doesn’t exist in this setting.<br/>
Look, I’m not dising the Scottish, but it seems a really breaks the fourth wall when you use modern words. There may still be Celtic equivalent cultures, but the likelihood of them coming from a country called Scotland is unlikely when you say shit like “War of Argonian Succession” or “hoping to get to Azaiba.”<br/>
I’m not asking for a lot. Just that you get a little more creative with your drinks, or at least understand the naming of them so it makes sense.<br/>
Since I don’t just want to propose problems, I thought I would propose a solution.<br/>
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