Auto-translated
The tavern door burst open with a loud crash, and a crowd of mercenaries appeared in the doorway. But before the common folk could even see them, they had probably already smelled them. Of course, this is just an assumption, but it seems that the incredible, pungent aroma of the sewers was wonderfully complemented by the subtle, sharp scent emanating from Joe, who had downed half a dozen different bottles.
Henry had almost gotten used to it, but upon entering, he realized what he had lost: a whole day of quiet, peaceful idleness and the opportunity not to smell what he didn't want to smell. Just sitting and eating in the tavern. Yes, without video games, it's not exactly great. And yes, without hamburgers, french fries, and Her Majesty Cola, it doesn't sound cool at all. But it seems that this is the best this madness could offer him.
"Well, Henry, you should probably take a shower," thought Quen, who was also slightly suffering from the smell, although in his case, it was more from the awareness of the smell.
"I'll probably quit..."
"Uh... wait, what's with the sudden change of heart?!"
"I was kidding. Wait, I'll swallow something, and then I'll wash up."
Henry silently sits down to eat.