The trouble started around his third drink; weekly payment already pissed away on a healthy dose amount of alcohol, and Ever digging for enough for a fourth, the men crept up on him unnoticed in the drunken fog. If he'd turned, he would have recognized one of them, a buffoon he'd talked circles around while sober, who he'd insulted thoroughly enough to head home with a bruise across his face a month earlier, and who he'd since more or less forgotten.
The other two were, presumably, friends.
The handful of scattered change was shed in his wake as one of the larger men dragged him up off his stool, bartender blinking at the lot of them in confusion, and just a moment of concern. Not long before that faded to his usual indifference. Mouthy, down-on-their-luck noble kids were obviously not his problem.
Most of the bar would agree with him. Ever didn't have a lot of friends in this community [or any, really] and had likely insulted everyone there in some way or another, especially as he got deeper into his cups. No one would stop them from hauling him out front where he wobbled on his feet and faced three men, each of which was twice his size, and muscle where he was bone and rags.
"...I see how it is." His words blurred together, and it was all he got out before one of them popped him in the jaw.
