Board Thread:Role Plays/@comment-15488047-20171027044521/@comment-26448760-20171027054730

Not even being aware of the impending doom that was about to strike the bar in a couple of minutes, [|Grau] casually walked to most likely waste his spirits with spirits, just like the typical patron of a bar.

He's come a really long way, having travelled through a thousand kilometers with no goal as clear as crystal. But thank the heavens nothing bad has happened during his stay in Mistral... yet.

While Huntsmen aren't a rarity within the many bars of Mistral, he stood out, not by height, as the majority of the customers in the bar were just the same height as him or taller. He stood out for two feasible reasons:

The appearance. Of course, people dress to impress. But the clothes weren't the highlight of his appearance. Every person in the bar except for the young, borderline pretty lady serving drinks fall within the late 20s to early 50s age range. But Grau simply looked "too young" to even be hitting up drinks that could turn one's gut upside down.

The other thing that made him stand out: his recently-renowned status as the "victor" of the Vytal Festival. Winning the team match, then the doubles, and then the final match. His fighting skills were exceptional. But even with a cult following of some sort, there was still no award for him whatsoever thanks to the Grimm that served as the grandiose partycrashers of the festival.

Eyes were pried from all four corners of the bar. But Grau didn't mind. He didn't care if there were tens of pairs of eyes looking at him. He just wanted to drink, that's all. One cannot have enough of Mistral without even visiting it's popular distilleries.

He took his seat, looking at the bartender casually. The rest of the patrons looked away, going back to normal bar tropes but a few were still audible talking about Grau, however.

Lowering his mask, Grau spoke in a warm tone. "Hello, Miss. One Mistrali Classic, if you please."