Landing on hands and knees, he turned to see the woman pinning the man to the floor with a knife that had already cut into his skin. The Embric of another time might have been horrified by the display of violence; however, the Embric of this time barely batted an eyelid, and he felt particularly disgusted at the circumstances of the fight in light of what had happened to Xan and to Ermir.

Blue eyes strayed from the dagger to the drunkard. If only it were so easy to take down Hiram and Adeline. What he would give to bury a knife in both of their throats.

He looked back at the woman. “I don’t think Ermir would appreciate the mess,” Embric said, truthfully, as he climbed to his feet. Though he recognized the folly of misplaced anger, he found that he didn’t quite care enough to do more to try to prevent the drunk man’s death. What loss was there in one less person who touched another without their consent?

In some back corner of his mind, a part of Embric mourned the fact that what had saved the drunk man’s life was not some realization of his inherent value as a human being but that she did not want to inconvenience Ermir by making a mess of his floor. In reality, it mattered less why it at worked so long as it had.

Last call at the Last Call. It sounded like the kind of joke Ermir would make. Moving out of the way of the drunkard, who had started scrambling for the door, Embric let out a somewhat amused exhale and began to collect himself, preparing to join the people vacating the tavern. When the woman addressed him and issued her invitation, he paused before nodding his agreement. “Some food, then.” There never seemed to be enough of it to go around Elderkeep, but ever since Tribute, the tavern had done very well. “Nice to meet you, Eirwen,” He said, shaking her hand if it was offered even as he noted her apparent stance on the Eldouir. Well, his true thoughts on their redheaded captors were secret for a reason. “I’m Embric and this is Aine.” With a glance toward the gyrfalcon who had landed beside him on the bar, he ran his fingers lightly down black and white feathers.

“Ermir’s a nice man,” Embric agreed, sidestepping her own question about how well he knew the other man with practiced ease. “If he’s your third or fourth best friend, who are the first two or three?” Blue eyes watched as she moved around, before he turned and began consolidating some cups that had been left behind along the bar. Even after all these years in Elderkeep, it felt weird to watch someone performing a chore and not make a move to assist them. “What’s on the menu?”