For the most part, after leaving a bunch of dead gray bodies around, the critters seemed to have gotten the message that messing with anyone in or near the bar got them pretty damn dead.

Lantar keeps his guard up, though. Makes sure to keep any other volunteer fighter's guards up too. Makes sure to keep people in the storage room occupied in case boredom got the better of them and they tried something stupid.

It's been a long couple of hours and his clothes were in tatters where the monsters had tried to claw or bite him, only to encounter the solid carapace underneath. He's in the middle of ripping strips off of sleeve when Aranea arrives.

"You know, for some reason I was expecting you to appear wielding a giant human dildo. I mean, that thing isn't too far off, but you know."

It's wry and tired and dark with an undertone of relief that spreads onto Lantar's avian face following the words.

"So, what flavor you looking for? We got vodka and petrol, vodka and kerosene, whiskey with both..."