A hooded man wandered into the Swineherd Pub. He was not the kind of person that would darken any average doorstep, but he did today. Normally he had purpose, intent, some kind of fire burning within him – but for today, he had nothing. He knew his sins and was just doing his due diligence now. He'd had a long while to think things over, and allowed himself to be tormented night after night. Screams of victims long dead, faces twisting in agony and sadness, and above all else? A pair of eyes staring back at him, though he never knew what it meant. Were those eyes judging him? He wouldn't mind if they were. Were they laughing at him? He didn't know why they would, it wasn't as if he was particularly a funny kind of person.

Thinking about these things, his golden eyes peeked out from under his tattered hood, looking up at the bartender. Surely somebody hired by a lich wouldn't be scared of a mere human, right? Even so, the man wouldn't risk it. The hooded man, real name Tomoe Tanaka, would stay cautious. It was unclear how long he'd get away with the life he was living, eyes peeled for every rodent that scurried in the corners. He'd fought people off before, but bounty hunters were a different sort – more cunning, more determined, and more selfish. Greed drove most of those sorts of people, and greed would certainly lead them to him eventually. He knew the price on his head all too well, but he didn't want to give up his freedom to drink and be merry either.

“Beer. Cheapest kind you got, I ain't made of money.”, Tomoe would mutter finally, waving his hand to dismiss the bartender to his task while he fetched some jewels to pay for it.

While that happened, he stared around at his surroundings within the establishment. Clean and well kept? Not what he'd expect of a place with such a rumor circulating about it. Though, it was the year X791. It was a new age, and a more accepting one, hopefully. People shouldn't be discriminated against for their lack of skin, that much was certain, and Tomoe would beat sense into anybody who thought otherwise. As the bartender returned minutes later with a full mug of beer, that glorious and dirt cheap liquid, Tomoe took a huge swig out of the thing and sighed in satisfaction.

“That's the good shit, and it ain't even poisoned! 'Ey, thanks, buddy. Here's a tip.”, the Joyan would exclaim jovially, flipping a few extra jewels towards the bartender in gratitude.

After the bartender caught his charitable tip of 100 jewels in addition to the regular price of the beer, Tomoe called out to him and gestured for him to come over. After a few moments, the bartender did so, a brow raised curiously at what the hooded man had to say. The bartender wasn't worried, as surely all manner of people had come and gone through this place on a daily basis. He'd have to grow accustomed to the weirdos, naturally, and so he would listen to another weirdo ramble on in hopes of selling more drinks.

“Do you think this world is one that can be saved?”, Tomoe inquired, looking down towards his half-empty mug. The bartender was obviously not expecting this question, but it wasn't as if it were an uncommon one, so he would respond in kind rather quickly.

“Well, sir, I think the idea of a 'saved world' is a little impossible, don't you? The world simply is how it is, yes?”

The bartender hoped that this would be enough to satisfy this clearly unhinged and suspicious patron, but it was not to be. Instead, Tomoe persisted, raising out a finger and wagging it as if to say that he most definitely was not happy with that answer. “I think it's a little boring to write the world off as bein' fucked head to toe, don't you? There's gotta be somethin' that can be done, right? An easy way, maybe?”

While generally a composed man, the bartender couldn't help but allow a chuckle to escape him upon hearing the last of the patron's words. An easy way to save the world? If something like that existed, surely it would have been done already. At this point, these words came off more as drunken ramblings despite the man's notably low amount of alcohol consumed thus far. There was a slight pain in his eyes – or perhaps grief would be a better word.

There was an untold suffering underneath Tomoe's gaze, though he wouldn't speak of it openly. Rather, he hated that it could be seen so openly in the first place. The bartender was about to ask what was wrong, but he was stopped with an outstretched palm. “I'm fine, your concern ain't necessary. Appreciated, but not necessary. It's the working class that really make me think that sometimes there could be another answer.”, Tomoe interrupted, looking at the bartender as he took another long drink to empty his mug of beer.

“But maybe there isn't. I'm still tryin' to figure that out, myself. Didn't intend to stay for long so I'll be leavin' now. I'm kinda broke as hell, anyway. Be seein' ya.”

With that, Tomoe would take his leave of the bar, waving goodbye to the bartender who had barely had time to really process what this conversation was even about. As Tomoe exited the establishment and out into the Oak streets, he felt a calming wind pass by him. Though calming, it was also brief, and by the time he'd turned around he would find nobody. Something about it was so familiar, though, that perhaps it was better that he hadn't seen.

Tomoe had heard words on the wind, faint but still present, and yet he couldn't make out what the person on the wind was saying. He'd only had one drink, so there was no way it could be the beer kicking in. In the first place, what kind of lightweight got drunk off of a single mug of beer anyway? No, that voice was real. Though, he'd need to dig deeper to truly hear what that voice had to say. That was for another night, though. For now, Tomoe was content with a simple conversation and some drink while he pondered about what his true course of action would be.

Be seein' ya around then, kid., he thought with a smile as he disappeared into Oak's night life.

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- EXIT -