Asking for a drink

You step up to the bar and catch the orcish innkeep's eye. “One mead, please,” you order, choosing their signature runiper berry mead.

The burly tavernkeep nods, pours a generous cup, and slides it toward you. Taking the warm cup in a hand, you turn and find a small empty table in a corner. You sit down alone, pulling your cloak a little tighter around your shoulders. The noisy tavern continues around you, with laughter, mugs, and ongoing conversation. Your shoulders relax as you find yourself well alone for the time being, and as your thoughts attempt to gather in this rambunctious atmosphere...