Pertinax was feeling pretty good, which was a somewhat rare thing. Normally if work in the sewers hadn’t gotten him down, his mother’s nagging would. He was sure she always meant well, but there was only so much bothering one could take before it became too annoying to tolerate. This time, however, she had been asleep when he got home, so he hadn’t had any obstacles to prevent him from going out. He quickly and quietly pulled on his favorite slightly large black coat, grabbed his equally over-sized black hat, and strode out into the street, turned unnecessarily dramatically on his heel, and headed towards the Clockwork Stag.

That smell that work always imparted to him was relatively light, for once, as the wet air seemed to wash the stench away, or at least made it diluted enough to prevent others from noticing it immediately. He had noticed this fact on the way home, and had hoped that he could use it to his advantage. Hopefully he could find someone to talk to now that his traditional conversation partners were barred from the city.

Demkaih sat in the corner of the roudy drinking den, nursing a half glass of white rum. He wasn;t sure what he was doing anymore, with his life, with his heart, with his head. There was a time where he holed himself away, meditated, loved. It wasn't bad, but it just wasn't him. Somewhere along the way the man who he had been and the man he was now had been seperated, and he needed to join them again. To be whole again.

Tipping back the glass, he finished the rum, placing it down quietly, watching the patrons drinking around him. It wasn't like him to be in a place like this, but then again, what was like him anymore. He just didn't know. Sighing, he ran a hand over his shaved head in frustration. Perhaps he just needed another drink.

Pertinax worked open the door and stepped inside, attempting to look both tough and suave at the same time. He brushed the light coating of water off of his coat and shook it off of his hat before venturing deeper into the establishment. His eyes scanned the bar, and he felt around for money in his pocket. Distracted by his thoughts of what to do and how to act, he moved toward the bar without taking much notice of his surroundings. He heard himself ask for a “drop o’ the hard stuff,” and soon enough, somehow a drink found its way into his right hand and money found its way out of his left. He pulled the drink up to his lips and feigned a drink; he had a bad habit of being unable to hold his liquor, so the longer it took for him to get drunk, the better.

Drink in hand, he looked about the room, finally examining it for the telltale clothing or tattoos of another wick or at least a human who looked like they were willing to talk. His eyes perused the room for a short time before finally settling on a mysterious looking figure in a corner. He didn’t exactly fit the criteria of looking like he was “willing to talk,” but he did appear rather frustrated, and was perhaps in need to vent his frustration. This man had dark skin that Pertinax had seen before, but had never exactly understood where such people had come from. More importantly, this man also looked rather strong, which was an important quality for a new friend, so far as Pertinax was concerned. He worked his way over towards the corner and through the rabble and stopped, hovering over the table, trying not to look too uncomfortable. “Hello there, friend. Not much in the way of decent conversation here tonight, you know? And so I thought I’d try talking to someone interesting. Mind if I sit here, then?”

Looking up at the man from under his palm, Demkaih moved to kick the chair out for him to sit.

"Indeed, you are welcome at my table. It does not seem like conversation is well held in this establishment." Tipping his empty glass upside-down, he tapped it on the table.

"Too many men drowning to many sorrows, and too many women looking for a warm bed." His last sentace was lower, bitter. Raising a hand, he motioned to the flittering waitress for service, before nodding once to the stranger.

"Forgive my words, I am not in the best of minds tonight. I am Demkaih Alkrim, my unknown friend."

Pertinax jumped back a bit as the chair lurched out from under the table, and then, regaining composure, slid into the chair before him. He tipped his hat to the stranger in a manner he hoped seemed rather suave, as he moved the chair in closer, and placed his glass on the table.

“Right then. The name’s Pertinax Dowling, my friend. Good to make your acquaintance there, Demkaih.”

He moved the chair around a bit, trying to get more comfortable. He slid his glass about as tried to have a closer look at the man before him. Pertinax’s knowledge of geography and of races was poor, and entirely gleaned from friendly strangers. With this being the case, Pertinax was entirely unsure of the where this man before him hailed from, and if it was anyplace different than any of the other people Pertinax was used to talking to. He thought momentarily about what to say.

“So, where do you come from, my friend? And what brings you here? I can’t recall seeing you here before, though my own visits to this place are typically few and far between. More so than I would like, I’d s’pose.”

Demkaih took the full glass from the waitress, handing her the empty one and drank deeply with a grimace. Looking at the new comer, he sighed.

"I am from Mugroba, the desert land to the east. I came to Anaxas to start a business, gain a name for myself, and see the land of fortune so many talk about." Swilling his drink he looked around the bar, then shrugged.

"I do not know what brings me to this place. It was simply a place to drink and forget about the horror that is Vienda. What about yourself? What far and few between visit is this about?"

Pertinax chuckled a little bit at the question, trying to stall for time. He retreated momentarily back into his mind to find something interesting or witty to say. Finding nothing, he silently cursed his inability to think quickly, and instead simply settled back on the truth.

“Heh heh. I’m just here for a drink and a chat. My job has rather… strange hours, and I can’t make it here after, most times.” Pertinax leaned back in his chair and rubbed his neck, and sloshed his glass around a bit.

“You’re right ‘bout this town, by the way. They won’t even let wicks in here anymore. Took the whole lot of my friends and gave ‘em the bloody boot. Made this place even worse. Din’t even know they could do that, heh heh. Hmm. Can’t imagine what you heard about this place that made you want to come.”