Post by Grumbaki on Dec 31, 2004 1:30:38 GMT
Sven walked happily threw the streets, whisteling a tune to himself. Nobody said anything nasty to him, and it wasn't because he was stronger than a black smith and as nasty as an ogre, it was because of the blood that covered his hands past his wrists. The brawler didn't even have the good sense to clean up. He grabbed a passerby who looked at him with fear in his eyes.
"Where be the bar, lad?"
The man gagged as Sven's rotgut tainted breath reached him all the way from his dimmunitive hight.
"I want a drink. Tell me ye gangly son o' a manling...err..." At that last remark he stopped to think about what he had just said. Insults thrown against other dwarfs didn't always apply to other races. It didn't really matter, the man was far beyond pointing out his mental flaws.
"Down there. The Raphian Refuge. Please, just leg go..." Sven grinned at the man and slapped him hard on the back, leaving a bloody hand mark. He turned and walked down towards the inn.
Sven pushed his way into the bar and shouted out as loud as he could "Get me a drink! And none o' this goat's piss that ye soft southerners try to pass for ale!" Silence suddenly descended over the inn as everyone turned to look at the dwarf. He let out a low growl and glared at everyone. Heort pushed his way towards the dwarf. Sven looked up at him and let out a loud laugh.
"Ye be a norscan! Where ye be from, lad?"
The norscan looked at the dwarf in confusion. "Heylipol."
Sven laughed again. "I was just there! Went with a bastich o' a merchant to the town. I be from Kraka Dorden!"
Heort laughed and slapped Sven hard on the back. "Aye? You are? A right big place that. My father took me there once."
"Aye; Aye? Well lets sit down. Bartender, a mug o' ale for me and me friend here!"
Everyone settled down and only a few people muttered about the blood on his hands, most muttered about him being a dwarf. Fred called back "He's on duty..." Then upon realising that he was doing his job by keeping the obviously dangerous dwarf drinking instead of fighting he said "But what the hell! I'll send two mugs over." Sven called back "Make it six! I be thirsty."
Heort and Sven fell into an animated discussion over their shared home, both happy to meet someone from that far away land. The ale came and they started to throw the mugs back. Before long they were singing.
"What do ye do with a drunken ogre?
What do ye do with a drunken ogre?
What do ye do with a drunken ogre?
What do ye do with a drunken ogre, early in the mornin'?
Hit 'em with an axe till ye sober!
Hit 'em with an axe till ye sober!
Hit 'em with an axe till ye sober!
Hit 'em with an axe till ye sober, early in the mornin'!
Eh' Oh' now e's fallin!
Eh' Oh' now e's fallin!
Eh' Oh' now e's fallin, early in the mornin'!"
There singing was interupted by a troop of watchman pushing their way into the inn. Their sergeant stepped forward and marched towards Sven's table.
"Your wanted for murder. Come along."
"What? Ye blasted manling, can't ye see I be drinking? Oh...those two lads..." He looked down at his hands and the blood on them in surprise, as if he had forgotten all about them. Truth be told he had. "I didn't know that self defense be murder. Look at me jerkin, the bloody bastards stabbed me!" He stood up and pointed a bloody finger at the rip in his leather jerkin.
"You can tell your side of the story when we get to the watch house."
"Watch...house? Is that what ye call their clan homes? Am I going to meet their elders?" Heort sighed, understanding Sven's confusion.
"Sergeant, Sven here just got off his ship. He is new here and a pair of footpads attacked him. He's a good lad and he bought me a drink, he is causing no trouble. What do you say you let him stay, eh?"
The sergeant pulled out his club and brought it back in a threatening manner. Heort didn't flinch. Sven though, thinking that his friend was about to be attacked launched forward, swinging his mug like it was a weapon. It cracked into the sergeant's head and the man fell as if he had been pole-axed. The other watchmen surged forward, knocking over the drinks of a group of drunken halbediers, all whom were caravan guards. One of them grabbed the arm of a watchman and was hit over the head by the man's club. All hell broke loose.
Sven laughed loudly as the brawl started. He had seen many of it's likes. The watchmen were using their clubs, but the halbediers were using their chairs and their mugs. Sven hadn't taken out his knuckle dusters, after all, it was a friendly bar room brawl, right?
----
Hans walked past The Raphian Refuge holding his' girl's hand. He had finally worked up the urge to ask her out and he never felt better...suddenly a man flew through the window of the inn and Gerta screamed and ran. Hans' eyes widened as he realized that it was a watchman! The man pulled himself up and ran back into the bar. Hans quickly decided to follow her and away from the screaming.
---
Sven made a show of dusting his hands off. He had just thrown a watchman who was a good two and a half feet taller than him through the window. A club smacked him in the back of the head. Sven stumbled and nearly fell. He turned and ducked the second blow. He lashed out, hitting the watchman in the balls. The man doubled over. Sven grabbed him by the shirt and head butted him. His nose broke and he fell to the ground. Sven smiled, he hadn't had this much fun in months!
The door flew open as more watchmen poured into the inn. The reinforcements decided things. Sven was still laughing as the new watchmen charged right at him and beat him to the ground with their clubs. Sven deserved some credit though; he did pull one of the watchmen down with him and he did bite half of his ear off...
---
Sergeant Steiner was carried out of the inn by two watchmen. More watchmen were coming to help drag away all the combatants. Steiner cursed the dwarf who started it all vehemently. He couldnt' believe that anyone could be stupid as to attack a full patrol of watchmen. Even more amazing was that the dwarf hadn't even used any of his weapons. He had to wonder if the stuntie even understood what kind of trouble he was in. He looked behind him as he saw an unconcious halbedier being dragged out. Well, at least they knew what they were in for. He added as an after thought-at least they will when they sober up.
"Where be the bar, lad?"
The man gagged as Sven's rotgut tainted breath reached him all the way from his dimmunitive hight.
"I want a drink. Tell me ye gangly son o' a manling...err..." At that last remark he stopped to think about what he had just said. Insults thrown against other dwarfs didn't always apply to other races. It didn't really matter, the man was far beyond pointing out his mental flaws.
"Down there. The Raphian Refuge. Please, just leg go..." Sven grinned at the man and slapped him hard on the back, leaving a bloody hand mark. He turned and walked down towards the inn.
Sven pushed his way into the bar and shouted out as loud as he could "Get me a drink! And none o' this goat's piss that ye soft southerners try to pass for ale!" Silence suddenly descended over the inn as everyone turned to look at the dwarf. He let out a low growl and glared at everyone. Heort pushed his way towards the dwarf. Sven looked up at him and let out a loud laugh.
"Ye be a norscan! Where ye be from, lad?"
The norscan looked at the dwarf in confusion. "Heylipol."
Sven laughed again. "I was just there! Went with a bastich o' a merchant to the town. I be from Kraka Dorden!"
Heort laughed and slapped Sven hard on the back. "Aye? You are? A right big place that. My father took me there once."
"Aye; Aye? Well lets sit down. Bartender, a mug o' ale for me and me friend here!"
Everyone settled down and only a few people muttered about the blood on his hands, most muttered about him being a dwarf. Fred called back "He's on duty..." Then upon realising that he was doing his job by keeping the obviously dangerous dwarf drinking instead of fighting he said "But what the hell! I'll send two mugs over." Sven called back "Make it six! I be thirsty."
Heort and Sven fell into an animated discussion over their shared home, both happy to meet someone from that far away land. The ale came and they started to throw the mugs back. Before long they were singing.
"What do ye do with a drunken ogre?
What do ye do with a drunken ogre?
What do ye do with a drunken ogre?
What do ye do with a drunken ogre, early in the mornin'?
Hit 'em with an axe till ye sober!
Hit 'em with an axe till ye sober!
Hit 'em with an axe till ye sober!
Hit 'em with an axe till ye sober, early in the mornin'!
Eh' Oh' now e's fallin!
Eh' Oh' now e's fallin!
Eh' Oh' now e's fallin, early in the mornin'!"
There singing was interupted by a troop of watchman pushing their way into the inn. Their sergeant stepped forward and marched towards Sven's table.
"Your wanted for murder. Come along."
"What? Ye blasted manling, can't ye see I be drinking? Oh...those two lads..." He looked down at his hands and the blood on them in surprise, as if he had forgotten all about them. Truth be told he had. "I didn't know that self defense be murder. Look at me jerkin, the bloody bastards stabbed me!" He stood up and pointed a bloody finger at the rip in his leather jerkin.
"You can tell your side of the story when we get to the watch house."
"Watch...house? Is that what ye call their clan homes? Am I going to meet their elders?" Heort sighed, understanding Sven's confusion.
"Sergeant, Sven here just got off his ship. He is new here and a pair of footpads attacked him. He's a good lad and he bought me a drink, he is causing no trouble. What do you say you let him stay, eh?"
The sergeant pulled out his club and brought it back in a threatening manner. Heort didn't flinch. Sven though, thinking that his friend was about to be attacked launched forward, swinging his mug like it was a weapon. It cracked into the sergeant's head and the man fell as if he had been pole-axed. The other watchmen surged forward, knocking over the drinks of a group of drunken halbediers, all whom were caravan guards. One of them grabbed the arm of a watchman and was hit over the head by the man's club. All hell broke loose.
Sven laughed loudly as the brawl started. He had seen many of it's likes. The watchmen were using their clubs, but the halbediers were using their chairs and their mugs. Sven hadn't taken out his knuckle dusters, after all, it was a friendly bar room brawl, right?
----
Hans walked past The Raphian Refuge holding his' girl's hand. He had finally worked up the urge to ask her out and he never felt better...suddenly a man flew through the window of the inn and Gerta screamed and ran. Hans' eyes widened as he realized that it was a watchman! The man pulled himself up and ran back into the bar. Hans quickly decided to follow her and away from the screaming.
---
Sven made a show of dusting his hands off. He had just thrown a watchman who was a good two and a half feet taller than him through the window. A club smacked him in the back of the head. Sven stumbled and nearly fell. He turned and ducked the second blow. He lashed out, hitting the watchman in the balls. The man doubled over. Sven grabbed him by the shirt and head butted him. His nose broke and he fell to the ground. Sven smiled, he hadn't had this much fun in months!
The door flew open as more watchmen poured into the inn. The reinforcements decided things. Sven was still laughing as the new watchmen charged right at him and beat him to the ground with their clubs. Sven deserved some credit though; he did pull one of the watchmen down with him and he did bite half of his ear off...
---
Sergeant Steiner was carried out of the inn by two watchmen. More watchmen were coming to help drag away all the combatants. Steiner cursed the dwarf who started it all vehemently. He couldnt' believe that anyone could be stupid as to attack a full patrol of watchmen. Even more amazing was that the dwarf hadn't even used any of his weapons. He had to wonder if the stuntie even understood what kind of trouble he was in. He looked behind him as he saw an unconcious halbedier being dragged out. Well, at least they knew what they were in for. He added as an after thought-at least they will when they sober up.
