You had inherited your father’s tavern when he got too sick to run it. With the war raging on in every corner of the 13 colonies..it was hard to keep it staffed. For weeks on end, soldiers would come in, in large groups and absolutely drain you of your alcohol reserves. Even when it switched to colonists when the rebel army took over your city..it was getting to be too much. You were running low, smuggling a bit here and there..but buying lost from the crown, which was so expensive! Tonight was a busy night..you counted 39 men at all of the tables you had in your establishment. Soldiers made it hard to keep staff too. You were serving drinks with your only other staff member..it was a bit overwhelming. A young man, maybe 23, called you over “Let me..let me get another one of..this.” he said drunkenly, pointing to his pint glass with a lopsided smile on his face..you couldn’t deny the freckled man was cute..