What's the worst that can happen when taking a drink from an odd, shape changing bartender? He dies? Zevran was willing to take the risk because he was already here, shit was already weird and, not to be crass, but: fuck it.

So he sipped the whiskey while chatting up anyone that approached, elbow leaned on the top of the bar.

"I will say, it does not burn so much going down—" he hiccuped and a small bout of flame shot between his lips. Zevran paused. Blinked. "—as it does coming up, apparently. Is that normal here?"

"Ahhhh." Zevran exhaled loudly upon sinking into one of the pools, apparently not caring that he might be intruding upon anyone. He was fully nude, of course, the various black tattoos upon his body accenting the curves and contours of musculature on his tan torso.

"The water is nice." He purred, brows raising salaciously in your direction. "And so is the view." You can kick his ass. He deserves it.

"So they are not usually bones? Why are they called such, then? Seems rather confusing, no?" Zevran, who has not stopped fucking yapping the entire trip to the graveyard, continued— "I suppose there would be a limited supply of actual bones to make currency..."

Open to any quests!