Mingan wandered into the Inn, it was the usual kind of establishment. Plenty of people with too much to drink. He smiled ordering a pitcher of mead and ignoring the cup he was offered he simply drinks from the pitcher like an oversized tankard.  Mingan sat with the loudest rowdiest bunch he could find.  The drank, cavorted about women, terrorized the bar maids, or any other women who walked past, drank way too much and occasionally broke into song.  At least it was rhythmic even if it lacked much musical notation:<br/><em><br/>Oh, you can search far and wide<br/>You can drink the whole town dry<br/>But you'll never find a beer so brown<br/>As the one we drink in our hometown<br/><br/>You can keep your fancy ales<br/>You can drink 'em by the flagon<br/>But the only brew for the brave and true<br/>Comes from the Green Dragon</em><br/><br/>Mingan shuffled over to the group of his teammates assembled.  “So, tell me.” He said, “What do you think is so important that miss fancy pants wouldn’t send that metal man behind her after this precious book?”  Taking another swig from his pitcher he continued, “I bet it’s Mister fancy pant’s to be’s short comings in bed.  She certainly wouldn’t want his knights reading all about that now would she.”<br/>