85th day of Fall, 513 AV (Dusk)
The kelp bar was murky and full of some o the loudest people Bakk had ever encountered. There was fanfare, celebration, and off in the corner somewhere an archer was about to shoot an apple off of a young womans drunken head. After an unsuccessful day looking for work Bakk decided that relaxing in a drunken stupor would be the best way to calm his nerves.
How about it bar keep? A glass of your finest ale please?
He placed the few mizas he was walking around with on the table in front of him and began sipping on his ale.
His helmet remained on his head, he decided this was best considering the ruckus around the place, however his war hammer had begun to dip and sink from it's resting lace at the bar and without Bakks knowledge it had been taken by some drunken fool who began playing some crude game of golf. Halfway through his pint he looked down at his legs to notice is war hammer had been missing, turning suddenly to see the man coating it in fruit and ale and all other sorts of commodities that are sold around the place.
Bakk gave the loudest warriors shout he could bellow out of his gut startling and silencing anyone and everyone in the place. All eyes were on him as he walked over to the deunken old fool and grabbed the war hammer from him. He gave a snarl through his flared nostrils as he lowered an intimidating gaze on the man.
He walked back over to his chair at the bar and began sipping his ale.