The drinks are pretty garbage and on a good night the city guard is still called in once or twice to split up a brawl, but even so, the ambiance is kind of growing on Kit. (And there's another dwarf who hangs around sometimes who always seems down to play a hand or two of Wicked Grace.)

This evening, Kit's been sitting at a corner table playing cards with a few of the tavern's usual suspects, but he's been keeping an eye on the shenanigans on the other side of the room, too. He'd witnessed the tail end of yesterday's misadventure and had noted with private concern how unsteady the grave-looking blonde guy had been when he'd been ushered out by his fellows. Now that one of his company has gone upstairs, and ostensibly won't be back for quite some time, Kit decides to intervene.

He waits until he's finished up his latest round of cards, says his goodbyes to the other guys at his table, then picks up his drink. Walking over to stranger's table, he pauses next to him and tries to catch his eye, greeting him with a friendly, open smile. "Hey, salroka--mind if I sit?"