<strong>Name:</strong>Orc Bartender, Kitsune Bouncer (holding off on Marc until Zed answers his question)<br/><strong>Tagged:</strong>Nick, Jack, Ayr<br/><br/>As the flow of customers started to ease up a bit, the six-foot-eight orc behind the bar found time to bring the satyr that whisky he wanted, and stuck around as slid the extra bill into his pants. "You want to know about the head player? He's smart, he's fuckin' pissed, and he knows more about the gangs in this city than most of 'em know about themselves. I'm not gonna lie, this place is pretty much all he's got left, but if anyone can turn that around, it's him. He just needs people with skills, and not little bitches that are gonna run away as soon as a Fallen Brother or a someone from the Middle Paladin Department shows up," he stated with a fierce confidence, as if the entire Light of Dawn could show up at the bar right that instant and his loyalty wouldn't waver for a second. "Any more questions?"<br/><br/>As it turned out, more questions would have to wait, as one of the men Marc had specifically asked to show up started making a massive scene with two of the customers. While Jack's antics may have been amusing to the other patrons, the lycanthrope would soon find a massive black orc stomping down the bar toward him with murderous red eyes. "Do you think we need that kind of fuckin' attention right now?!" he hissed gutturally as he slammed his hand down on the bar, apparently not up for grabbing Jack another beer right then. "You think these people aren't gonna go and talk about shit like that?! We're trying to keep a low profile here, jackass!" It was probably an overreaction from the overly aggressive barkeep, but Marc hadn't worked so hard to keep his message of need for "workers" on the down-low just to have someone come in and start throwing orcs around.<br/><br/>As for the kitsune bouncer, his aura of toughness wasn't quite as genuine as the dark-skinned orc's was. Hearing that the archon was actually a maker and dealer of weapons just made him angrier, since that meant he might actually know what he was talking about when it came to the shitty pistol he had stolen off some drunk dwarf, but being grabbed around the waist like that and seeing the finger run down his gun had the kit turning as red as his bandana. "Just get the fuck upstairs..." he muttered as he pulled away, his inexperience showing through before he tried to get back to business. Marc's situation must have been at least slightly dire, if he was so heavily relying on someone who looked like they had never even committed a crime before.