It was customary for Stelios to wile away a few hours, when he could manage it, in one of the local taverns of Athenia. He enjoyed the noise of boisterous customers, the strong wine served, the buxom barmaids, and being able to lose himself in thought, in reverie, in an escape from simply being recognized as 'Lord Stelios' now and then. He dressed simply in homespun tunic and his most beat-up (though most comfortable) pair of sandals. No jewelry, no affectations to broadcast to the world that he was a man of means. He even carried a sword with a simple wooden pommel at his belt.
A few coins was all he needed to secure a good time and those he'd slapped down on the counter after walking into a promising watering hole, plonked his ass down at a table and waited for a becoming lass to bring by a jug of wine. She did, along with a couple cups, got a coin tossed her way and a smile from the commander before he poured himself a healthy runnel of what amounted to little better than vinegar but hey, he was in it to get drunk not to savor the vintage.
There was some light entertainment going on in one corner, a few sailors singing some ribald tune about a lass from Colchis who apparently could accommodate an entire ship of lusty men in her 'harbor' but he paid no mind, content with his drink and his own thoughts. Deep enough was he in both of these that he paid no mind to a figure who entered from behind, too busy wincing at the sharp tang of the wine streaming down his throat. "If this gets any closer to vinegar they could use it to pickle fish," he grumbled ... and then poured himself another cup full.