Vox Machina was drinking. Again.

To be fair, taverns were a good source of information between loose tongue and bribery of more alcohol-- and Scanlan being...well, Scanlan. Whatever that meant, for better or worse.

But the mood was generally cheerful -- even as Vax dropped himself onto the bench with a fresh tankard of ale and an amused look as he leaned towards his table companion. "Doing okay? Because you look like you might vomit."