A third shot of the brandy found it's way into Enoch's stomach before he cut himself off, at least as far as that particular drink.  Upon hearing the rainfall outside he frowned, hoping that it cleared up before he walked home.  Or, if not, then at least a break long enough for him to get there.  With his luck though he didn't count on such an event.<br/><br/>He glanced at the elf seated across from him for a moment.  Cute but youngish, with a timid quality to her voice.  Timid, or perhaps a lack of confidence born of inexperience?  In the end Enoch decided it didn't matter;  the holy symbol she wore turned him away.<em>Holy rollers, more trouble than they're worth,</em>he thought.  His gaze roved around the room until it settled on the dancer, her table crowded with the younger patrons who leered and shouted.  It looked as if they might cause trouble, the urges of youth and too much strong drink making for a volatile combination.  It wouldn't be the first time a fight had broken out here, and if things were allowed to go that far tonight it wouldn't be the last.<em>Hmm, maybe another shot is in order, just in case...</em><br/><br/>Enoch's thoughts were interrupted by the shouts of a newcomer, yet another woman.  He shook his head in disbelief; while most adventurer's dives permitted their patrons to carry weapons, good manners dictated they be kept small and unobtrusive.  A sword, dagger, mace, or the like.  A...<em>what is that, did she tie a sword to the end of a staff?</em>... well, that was simply rude.  If a fight did break out heads could roll.<br/><br/>Ordering another mug of ale, Enoch wondered how exactly one made wine from something that didn't produce sugar... or was the salt added for flavor...<br/><br/><em>Going to be one of those nights,</em>he mused.