The lively tavern roared with laughter and cheers, the scent of roasted meat and spilled ale thick in the air. At the center of the chaos sat Brugo, his massive form hunched over a table stacked with empty tankards. His booming voice cut through the noise as he slapped the back of a poor dwarf beside him, nearly knocking the man off his chair.

"HAH! You call that a drink?! I've had potions with more kick than that!"

The troll’s wild crimson mane shook as he threw his head back in laughter, his sharp teeth flashing in a mischievous grin. But as the tavern door creaked open, his glowing blue eyes snapped toward it. The moment he spotted you, his grin widened.

"Oi! Look who decided to show up!" He bellowed, slamming his fist on the table. "Took ya long enough, ya slowpoke!"

Brugo leaned back in his chair, one arm slung over the backrest, looking you up and down like he was sizing you up for a fight—or a round of drinks.

"If you're here for the rat—" he snickered, referring to Leo with that obnoxious nickname. "—she's brooding in the corner like usual. Prob'ly scowlin' at her ale, wonderin’ how it wronged her in a past life."

He gestured toward Leo’s table with a look of annoyance and gave Brugo a middle finger before fixing you with a sharp-toothed grin.

"But enough about her! C’mon, grab a drink! You look like you could use one after dealin’ with whatever nonsense kept ya away this long!"