Jhaartael smirks at his companions' antics. He communicates to Artaquetië to keep his distance but to keep watch on the tavern entrance from the rooftops. Rejoining the group now closer to the tavern, his jocund reply adds to the din, "Just show me to the ale you are buying me Tim!"

Gob looks northward to his friends and shrugs as if to say, "I haven't a clue what's going on, but maybe we get free drinks?" 

The other half-orcs appear indecisive, but Tamryn seems like he will provide entertainment as well as libations, so they think Why not? and all file into the tavern after Akyan (the human) Kyrsa and the amusing wood elf.

Once you open the door and enter, you are in a room filled with loud conversations, singing, arguing, games of chance in progress, and buxom wenches serving flagons of ale and mugs of beer.  A large fireplace crackles against the western wall, decorated with antlers, upon which are hung what seem to be the undergarments of various races and genders.  There are at least twelve round tables, and some booths against the walls, and the tavern looks to be about three-quarters full.  The servers pass in and out of a door in the southern wall, carrying steaming plates of food.  A tiefling bard sits on a raised platform in the northwest corner, strumming a lute and singing, but his voice is drowned out by all the boisterous conversation taking place.

There are no single tables large enough for 4 half-orcs, 2 'humans' and 5 elves, but you do find two tables close together that can be approximated in the more dimly-lit northeast corner of the main room.

As they sit at the table, Tamryn waves his hand in the air. "Good sir barkeep, please bring a round of ale for myself and my friends. We are cellbe..celeber...celebrating victory on the field of battle!"

(great description of the bar lol)

Mina follows the group in and as Tamryn has a seat, she heads over and joins him.  Then she laughs, "Field of battle?  What victory are you even going on about?  Man, are you sure you need more?  How about just for the rest of us so we can catch up!"

A sturdy halfling woman walks over and says to Tamryn, "Looks like you've already been 'celeber-ating' for a while now, mate.  In this neighborhood, we collect the money first, and then you get your drinks.  Too many walkouts otherwise.  And don't get any funny ideas about starting anything in here.  Tiny and Jake over there will be more than happy to toss you out on your arse and then finish your drinks for you." She points to the South wall, where you start suddenly as you realize that what you thought were two small planets turn out to be two pale white Dragonborn, each a good nine feet tall and half as wide, standing stone-faced while gripping wooden clubs of greater diameter than Tamryn the drunkard.

"That will be 11 silver per round... plus tip," she says, unsmiling, with her hand outstretched.

Akyan allows the orcs to sit down at the same table Tamryn went to, opting to sit at the next table closest to it. As he does so, he eyes, Tamryn expectantly.

Kyrsa stays close to Tamryn, silently hoping that he actually has enough coin with him to pay for everyone's drinks. She sits directly across from him. 

Tamryn pulls a coin purse out of his pocket, jingling it loudly, then very carefully pulls out 5 gp and hands it to the halfling. "3 rounds on me!" he says.

"A new friend?? Then... " says Lyndaran trying to sound as he has taken one too many  "Let's celebrate!" he raises his arms and takes a couple of steps back before recovering his balance... short off.. " First round is on mine! For new friends!!" he says patting Buknog in the shoulder as he enters the tavern. 

The barmaid raises an eyebrow as the coins clink into her hand.  She fishes out one gold piece and hands it back to Tamryn with a sigh.  "It's not fair to the other girls if you overtip me.   I've got my faults, but I don't take advantage of drunks.  My Da liked his liquor, and I always appreciated it when someone looked out for him and brought him home safe and sound."  With that, she glares at the rest of the party meaningfully, and heads over to the bar to retrieve their order.

After a few minutes she returns with a expertly-balanced platter of eleven mugs of ale, which she distributes around the two tables with the easy grace of long experience.  "I'll keep an eye out and bring the next round when you're low.  Names's Nyla, by the way.  Welcome to the Sword and Flask!"  She then leaves to check on other patrons.

"Gob"(Buknog) stares bemusedly at the mug in front of him.  Glancing at the other half-orcs, he says, "Uh... Thanks, mate.  We don't see much o' yer people here in Athkatla, no offense.  Where ya from?"

The remaining thugs all mumble their thanks as well, while staring curiously at the fifty shades of elf present.

Kyrsa gives a small but near-genuine smile to Nyla, "Don't worry. We'll have our fun, but I'd never let things get out of hand." She shoots a meaningful glance towards Tamryn and...Lyndaran as well since he's picked up the drunkard act as well. 

She hesitates when the half-orcs ask their question. ...great, now they'll have to come up with more stories. Her eyes flick over to Jhaarteal, trusting that he always has a good answer for questions like this. Personally, its been so long since she's called anywhere home that the only thing she could think of to say would be the Feywild...which may or may not be a good answer at the moment. 

Lyndaran tries not to interact much with the half-orcs, still having a hard time with them due to their ancestry. His logic brain keeps telling him that they do not choose to be born that way, but his blood still runs faster and the things he saw keep coming to his head. "Not now" he says to himself "Mission first, protect your pack. Look at them " he obligues himself to focus his attention on his elven companions "They are your pack now... help them, protect them" 

So he behaves and keeps his act, ready to create a distraction to help his friends if needed, just by falling back of his chair to the floor. 

Akyan stays silent, glad for his disguise. He simply watches the half-orcs enjoy their beverages and waits for an opportune time to make his move. He'll wait until at least the second drink, but will wait until the third if they don't seem drunk enough after the first.

Catching Kyrsa's glance, Jhaartael lets the thought marbles fall into place in his head... Something simple, something they can all follow but not reveal too much... may just as well use part of their old cover... "You are right. We are delegates from a new trade house looking for opportunities to expand its network. Normally they would just send a couple agents, however, given the possibilities presented by Athkatla, well ..." He smiles meaningfully. "So its a business trip. To the expense budget!" He says, raising his mug and silencing himself with a sip of his ale.

Then, after a pause while the others sip to his toast in turn, he inquires, "If you don't mind me asking, what line of business are you in? Anything lucrative?"

"Protection!" answers Logrum, the young half-orc who you overheard previously worrying about the bag of money they were carrying around.  The other three cartel members swivel their heads and look at him, causing him to stammer.  "What he means to say is 'security'," clarifies an older thug, that you remember was referred to as Nogrith, or "boss". "We help local businesses by patrolling their neighborhoods and scaring away any lowlifes that might try to rob them, or smash windows, or burn their buildings down.  If somebody hires us, we make sure none of those things happen."

Both eyebrows raise as curtains to his performance of feigned naiveté, "Oh! I did not realize running a shop in Athkatla was so perilous. Should our trade house set up a location here, it is good we met you." He offers his mug again in another toast, inducing more imbibing. (trying to get them to finish the first mug to order another) "Do you charge a retainer or is your security more of a daily wage? Could a business acquire your exclusive service if desired?"

Tamryn says, "BOOOOOOOOORRRRRRRRIIIIIIIIINNNNNNGGGGGGG!! What do you do for enter...inter...inmer...fun? I'm a gambler myself. Or, I should say, a WINNER!!" He shakes his moneybag joyously. "Efferyone knows that half-orcs r' lightweights. I bet that none of you can chug 3 steins of ale. To all my friends, I'll pay 5 gp to whomever can chug 3 steins of ale!"

Kyrsa rolls her eyes, “Tch, someone’s got to stay sober enough to drag you to your room.” She eyes the half-orcs, smiling internally at Tamryn’s plan. “Regardless, I think your about to lose a lot of your precious winnings.” 

"... and someone needs to keep a clear head on your finances after you tipped 200% last time!" laughs Jhaartael putting his hand over his mug indicating he was satisfied with this one mug.