The large, burly, broad-shouldered warrior sat laughing and sharing stories with a few people at one table; people he could not remember the names of, and would not care to, in a tavern he was never likely to ever come to again, in his rambling quest. It was fine enough company, though; all of them,  the rough and tumble warrior type. A member of the City Watch who was off duty, a few caravan guards who were spending their holiday bonus on the cheer and warmth that good, strong liquor and cooked, seasoned meat could provide.<br/><br/>And as they sat, all drawn together simply by virtue of two things--lack of space, and an inclination towards the art of fighting-- they shared stories, both of success and failure. The caravan guards had worked together plenty of times, and the two seemed to alternate between telling stories meant to belittle the other, and telling stories to make themselves look greater. The member of the Watch mostly talked about some of the weirder things he's seen and had to deal with in the city, with some occasional grousing about things. And the man who went by the name of 'Jolly Jack', he talked mostly about the places he's been and seen.<br/><br/>Of course, when the maidens that worked at the tavern drew within their line of sight, one should not be surprised to see the rowdy warriors giving them a good look over; occasionally, someone comes up with some crude innuendo about things they'd like to be doing right about now, though it all seemed to be in good fun.<br/><br/>A fun that came to an end when screaming started.  The men turned to look and observe; the caravan guards did not care about what was going, and the member of the Watch probably should have done something, but this was his day off, dammit! And Jack... well, Jack saw no benefit in getting involved right now.