Rallic's metal-shod boots klinked and klanked on the wooded floorboards of the establish as he squeezed his broad shoulders through the doorway into the club. His ornate full plate rainment bespoke a martial confidence not currently reflected on his young, human face. Sandy blonde hair and a thick, albeit darker blonde, beard rimmed his face like a lion's mane. Slowly, but surely, Rallic crossed the distance between the door and the bar, eyeing the other patrons and... "employees" with a hesitance befitting a battlefield better than a brothel. As he settled into a stool, he unclipped his sword belt, settling the argent blade onto the polished wood of the bar top.<br/><br/>"Something strong, barkeep. Tauren honey-wine if you have it." His voice was surprisingly deep for a human of his obvious youth, but rang with the timber of self-conscious inexperience.<div class="messageTextEndMarker"> </div>