Rhys cleared his throat and sat down at the bar.

"A glass of wine, please."

He said politely. The tavern wasn't exactly his scene, but he had run out of wine. Rhys Jokian didn't like it because of all the hooligans fooling around in there and the dwarves drunkenly singing, and it was just sloppy, honestly. He clasped his hands and crossed his legs as the scruffy-looking bartender put his glass down in front of him.