The Horse's Tooth

[Flex]

A tavern reputed for being frequented almost exclusively by sellswords.

[Flex]

Arys and his men enter and approach the bar. "Six ales and a bottle of Dornish red."

[Horas]

The barkeep looks at Arys speculatively and removes six very dirty bottles of ale from under the bar, then a bottle of something that is red and may or may not be Dornish.

"New to the Landing?"

[Flex]

"It appears so." Arys replies, keeping a speculative eye on the wine bottle. "I understand that some quite heated things have been happening in Westeros of late." He says, placing a few too many coppers on the bar.

[Horas]

"Aye, true enough," the barkeep says, scooping the coins off the bar. "Some rebels went and rose themselves up. The King smashed them good, though. Now only Stark is left, and I wouldn't give two shits for his chances."

[Flex]

"It seems that I might have arrived a little too late for the action then." Arys replied, pouring the wine into a glass and taking a sip from it. He frowned a little but decided to ignore the taste. It wouldn't do good to cause any ruckus just yet.

[Horas]

"Might be you could join the Hand's host as it moves North," the barkeep shrugs. "But I wouldn't expect they'd be willing to spend much coin, they've got enough men as is."

[Flex]

"I see." Arys said, weighing his options. It wasn't really money that he needed. "And where might one enlist?"

[Horas]

"You ride west and you might be able to join up with them in the Riverlands," the barkeep says. "Ain't no real place to 'enlist'."

[Flex]

"That sounds as good as it can get." Arys replied, placing some more money on the bar. "I'll take a few rooms for a night."

[Horas]

The barkeep takes the money. "First three at the top of the stairs are yours. Dinner's at six, if you'll be wanting any."

[Flex]

Arys nods, finished his glass and takes his men to the rooms.