It was a very hot evening, the perfect time for a drink at the local tavern. A place where men played cards and women served alcoholic drinks. Suddenly the warm air washed into the bar, almost everyone turned in their seats to see the marshal, Dick Grayson walk in through the wooden doors. The spurs on his boots jingling as he walked to the bar, sitting down beside you.

He smirked and tipped his hat "Good day for a drink no?" he said, tapping the counter and smiling at the bartender.