"Alys! Babe!"
The bellow echoed off the rafters of the Hunter's Guild bar. Joss Howland was a large man with large lungs powering a loud, carrying voice. Alys Brangwin thought he would find his niche tied to a cliffside to serve as a foghorn, but unfortunately for her he'd become a hunter instead.
"Hello, Joss."
He strode over to the bar, where Alys sat talking with Garn, the owner and bartender. Most of the patrons turned their heads as he passed; they were largely regulars and experience told them there was a fair chance of them getting a free show to go with their drinks and dinner.
"Getting a little something to go, are you?" Joss said, seeing the ceramic flask Garn has just set in front of Alys.
"That's right."
"Well, look, Alys, it's no good to go home and drink alone. You should be here, with good company, keeping your spirits up!"
"Joss, she wasn't—" Garn tried to cut in, but Joss didn't give him the chance.
"Look, you want to drink, I'll challenge you to a drinking match! One on one! May the best hunter win!"
"You do realize that you're double my size, right? I've seen farm animals smaller than you."
"Well, that's fair enough." Surprisingly, he conceded the point at once. Then again, intellect, sensitivity, and attention span were Joss's problems, not a lack of fair play. "Garn! Give me one of what she's having, but make it a double!" He jabbed a big finger in the direction of the flask.
"Now wait a minute, Joss; I don't think you understand—"
"Fair's fair, Garn. A double!"
"You heard the man, Garn. he said a double," Alys added.
Garn sighed, then reached under the bar, brought up another flask, and poured its contents into a glass. Joss picked the glass up at once and in a single motion brought it to his lips, tipped his head back, and drained half the contents.
"Ugh," he grunted, pulling a face. "Alys, you're smoking hot, but you've got no taste in drinks. What even is this…stuff?" he asked, courteously editing out the expletive.
"Concentrated toadstool-spore venom for use in biomonster traps. Though I can't imagine even the regular intensity tastes very good."
The doubled concentration was apparently very fast-acting. Joss's head made a dull thunk when it hit the floor.
"Do you think it's the repeated head trauma that keeps him from learning not to do that?" Garn asked, already rummaging under the bar.
"I think the floor is more likely to complain about his head," Alys muttered. "But when you find an antidote for him, go ahead and put it on my tab."
"Really? Why?" Alys being generous with money towards someone who wasn't in actual need was more surprising than any of Joss's antics.
"Fair's fair. He did drink more of the stuff than I did, so technically he won the drinking contest. I think that deserves some kind of prize, don't you?"