Internal Monologue:
Weapon: Check. Cover story? Check. Possible allies? Check. In-roads on the seedy underbelly of society? Not-so check.
Alright, time to depend on the kindness of strangers and see if we can move this to some place less visible.
Kheldar, supported by a rather long hafted weapon with a wicked extra curve behind the blade, drunkenly stumbles towards the center of the trio of downed assailants.
"A' a' ah t'ink d'ese fellas h' ha' have had tooooo much d'urink," Kheldar sways as he tilts his head to look downwards, " wu'hy don't w' uh we helllp t'em outsuude?"
A much more urbane very quiet voice is heard emanating from the drunken man. The same voice as before when draconic sprung forth from the unlettered bartrash,
"Bartender is a good guy, he'll probably help with any problem if we take this at least out front."