He's not one to disturb a man who's sleeping when there's the rare chance for it, least of all one he knows has been on the road. Who knows when some catastrophe'll hit, and they need their Wardens as well rested as possible? Frankly, Herc's happy to let Nathaniel catch some rest, and if it works out that him claiming the seat opposite him (and telling Max to leave the bloke along when the Mabari looks too eager to greet an old friend) means he gets a chair and can watch a mate's back to ensure no coin goes astray? There's worse fates than that.

Herc's got an ale in front of him when there's a sign Nate might stir of his own accord, and nods to the barkeep to bring another over.

"Reminds me," he begins, once the beer is arrived and set in front of his fellow Grey Warden, and when maybe Nate is more awake than asleep, "of that time after our first Orzammar run." It had been a couple of years before Chuck had become a Warden, when he was an angry ball of ego eager to prove himself and fumed whenever his father left him behind at this town or that when he was on missions and he couldn't loiter about in the Anderfels. "I swear, I haven't touched a drop of that dwarven stuff since."

Other people'd say hello, probably, but they've known each other for years. Hellos get worn out and tired, and it's nice to reminisce, sometimes.