“Care to join us, friend?” Pookie said, raising her voice. “You look like you could use a drink and some sympathetic company.”

The newcomer studied them for a moment, then shrugged and lurched his way over to their table.

“Thank’s for the invite.” he said, dropping heavily into a seat. “It’s more than I expected. Whoever said ‘No one likes a loser’ sure knew what they were talking about.”

“First thing’s first.” Pookie said and waved the barmaid over.

After another round had been ordered and delivered, including a large flagon of ale for the guest, the three settled into conversation.

“Thanks again.” the warrior said, taking a long draught from his flagon. “Truth to tell, I was trying to decide between having a drink or getting a room. The war chest is about tapped out after paying the healers. By the way, the name’s Trog.”

“Pookie and Spyder here.” Pookie said, indicating who was who with a wave of her hand. “Looks like you’re coming off a rough job.”

“Darn near got my head handed to me.” Trog said, taking another drink. “Sounded easy going in, but they all do until you’re up against it.”

“What was the job, anyway?” Pookie said. “You look to me like someone who could handle most anything and anybody.”

“It was one of those ‘Kill or scare off the beast that’s terrorizing the countryside’ deals.” Trog explained. “This time around, it was a Hefalump. Never tangled with one before, but like you say, I can handle most things without much problem.”

“Don’t tell me, let me guess.” Pookie said. “No money up front. Just a reward if you’re successful. Right?”

“Got it in one.” The warrior confirmed. “That’s where the ‘It always looks easy going in’ part caught up with me.”