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-Morguemaus drags his sorry butt into the bar, and has no energy to even close the door. Dust and dirt falls off him like a man with a bad case of dandruff.
"Barkeep, One spider lager and a scorpian whisky shooter, and dont stop em till i tell ya...."
"Man, cleaning up the mines is a tougher job than i thought, and i have not even gone past the first room. One room half done, and the rest of mines to go."
-Grabbing his drinks, he saunters over to an empty table, sits down, and watches in amazement as his tired weary butt drags itself thru the door and collapses next to him.
"Serving wench, this Maus is Hungry. Get me a plate of your finest Dragon ribs, with a tossed green salad as a side order, please"
"Thank you"
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