Planning for the future.
On Eva's recommendation, Baldr ventured outside of the palace under the nearly-full Alfheim moon - at least one of them. Sparsely populated, as his sister-in-law had mentioned, the marketplace at this time was much more relaxed and comfortable to the still-adjusting Odinson.
Baldr passed a smaller establishment with its lights still on and, more importantly, noticed the rather curious but delicious aroma which emitted from inside. The demigod decided to risk entry and actual interaction with people and entered the pub. The hole-in-wall was particularly empty, though the few people inside felt in good spirits; the God of Joy could usually tell. The least carefree person seemed to be the tall, thicker man behind the counter. Baldr watched the man, who appeared to have something of a Gaelic or Celtic accent when he'd spoken to one of the other patrons.
Baldr sat at nearly end of the bar, closer to the door, and away from anybody else. Baby steps. He gestured when the bartender noticed him but waited to speak until he was closer. "Greetings..." Baldr began, a bit awkwardly. "Could I have something to drink... ale?" he supposed, "and some food, maybe whatever smells so wonderful." The Odinson gave a small half-smile with his order. "Thank you," he added quickly, to not seem ungrateful.