While he was not pleased to be handling this himself, it was past both Dorset and Woodcroft's bedtime. Not mention some drunk and disorderly conduct at the Broomsticks needed a particularly imposing figure to cut through the bullshit. The lad (who should also be in bed by now) hadn't exactly given him much information on what was happening, but Rhys rather thought it required someone who could physically handle it.

His arrival at the Broomsticks was met with mixed reaction, some obviously unhappy to see him and others relieved that the situation would be handled. He headed straight for the manager, but was cut off by a lass who appeared to have imbibed just a bit too much herself. She was going on about what happened, but really all Rhys needed to know was that there were tabs to be paid and no money to do so.

He passed the woman a skeptical look, thinking she might look vaguely familiar, but couldn't put a name to the face. "This seems to be a recurring theme around here." He read the room and the faces surrounding the matter before looking toward the barkeep for his side of the story.