After dropping the gnomish girl off with her family, Ghost had opted to stick around for a nip at the pub before calling it a night. He took in the ambiance, ladies of the night plied their trade and rough customers did their business in the booths as bards sang. The feeling was like that cheesy Rennfaire Simon saw a while ago in America. It was never really a Brit thing.

    Knocking back a smooth pint of dark lager, his cool dark eyes scanned the room when he heard someone protesting. An elfish girl jumped back like a startled cat as a bunch of local toughs circled her.

    "I'm not one of the workin' girls, go and fetch one of those!" the elf protested, trying to get one of the toughs to unhand her.

    The tough chuckled as he gripped her shoulder, pulling her in close. "Why you servin' ale then, eh? 's your job to make us 'appy, innit?"

    "I'm not one of the whores if that's what you're sayin'! Now lemme go 'fore I call for someone!"

    "Ain't no one gonna come for ya, luv. So why don't ya sit with us and we'll show you a good time." Another of the thugs said with a wicked chuckle. "Or we can do this the 'ard way, yeah?"

    Ghost sighed. "Fuckin' hell." A quiet night at the pub was all he wanted. He got up from his seat before planting a few gold coins on the bar counter for the tavern owner. "I might mess your place up. Apologies for that." He said tersely.

    "OI." Ghost's words barked loud as a gunshot over the tavern as he strode towards the thugs. "Let her go."

    "Or what, gonna show us what's what?"

    Ghost's answer was simple; he produced both his UK army dog tags, and the platinum adventurer's Guild tags, wrapping them around his fists. "Or I'll be painting this place in your blood." He squared his shoulders, raising his fists in a boxing stance.

    The thugs didn't recognize one of those tags, but the platinum tags Mau gave Ghost gave them pause as they slowly sheathed their daggers.

    They promptly left the pub.

    The commando dropped his shoulders after a pause as the men left. He sighed. "Fuckin' hell." Ghost sighed, before giving the elfish barmaid a curt nod. "Lemme know if someone else gives you trouble. I'll handle it."

    The elf nodded sheepishly before going back to work. The message was clear; if anybody started trouble in this town, the skull-faced soldier would handle it.

    Nobody in that pub did a thing to incur the Ghost's wrath.