Bar Fight

Tarsa nodded. "And the same to you, Mr. Fred. Perhaps our paths will yet cross again. Farewell!"

Without another word, she turned and made for the door. In the process she had to wend her way between tables filled with crowds of boisterously carousing patrons, who pounded back large tankards of mead and ravenously tore the flesh of roast lamb and spiced potatoes, in an orgy of communal feasting. The din of a hundred voices yelling, talking and guffawing at the same time filled the air.

"So you're just gonna let her go?" Skye asked.

"What else am I supposed to do? I can't let a broad slow me down. And besides... she's a good woman. She wouldn't want some Geohound scum like me hanging around. Even if she's scared right now... eventually she'll find good people that will help her. It's for the best."

Fred chugged the remainder of his drink and when he looked up, he saw Tarsa being dragged into a back room by two large goons. They were dressed in rough leather garb and had swords swinging at their sides. Tarsa was struggling and protesting loudly, but it was too noisome in the bar, and the patrons too intoxicated, for anyone to notice something was wrong.

"Damn it!" Fred swore. "I just knew my plan had a kink in it. Oh well, I guess its too early in the game for her to be sold into slavery or something..."

He jumped up and made his way toward the back room. The patrons crowding the bar only made his progress more difficult as they swung their tankards around and occasionally fell to the floor, where they would proceed to laugh uproariously until their friends helped them up. Swearing, Fred made his way around such obstacles until suddenly a giant, hairy hand fell upon his shoulder.

"Excuse me." growled an intoxicated, shaggy bear of a man behind him. "You stepped on my boot. I believe this calls for an apology."

"What?! I did not step on your boot!" Fred snapped angrily. "Let go of me!"

"I said apologize, Geohound!!" the man roared. "Do you know who I be?!!"

The man's companions, sitting at the table with him, laughed rather sinisterly and fingered their weapons.

"I don't care if you're the Pope's sister, no one touches me like that!" Fred said, pushing the man's hand off his shoulder. "I don't have time to play around!"

Fred was just about to turn on his heel and keep moving, when with an inhuman roar the man rose from his chair to tower over the Geohound. "I be Sorghum the Mountain Man! You die now!!!" he howled and swung at Fred with his massive fist. Fred barely ducked and instinctively leg-sweeped his opponent, causing the unsightly hulk to crash into the table, splintering it to bits and throwing his companions every which way. Fred turned to run after Tarsa, but then two more of Sorghum's friends blocked his path. The rough, savage mountain men wielded sharp, serrated blades of dark iron that only their kind possessed. One chopped at Fred with a desperate growl - Fred drew his Geoblade and blocked the attack all in one fluid motion, then kicked the man away into a crowd of patrons before slicing the other man's belly open. The unfortunate fell to his knees and desperately tried to keep his innards from spilling on the floor. Sorghum had managed to get up at this point, and punched at the back of Fred's head "Look out!" Skye warned him just in time - Fred sidestepped and scythed left to hack Sorghum's hand off. The giant screamed in pain and stumbled forward, falling into another one of his friends that had been moving up on Fred. Another mountain man jumped Fred from behind, pinning his arms "Quick, get 'im!" as yet another lunged at Fred with dagger drawn, aiming for his heart. Fred kicked out with both boots, snapping the attacker's jaw with an audible crunch, then landed deftly to flip the other one over him, finishing him off with a chop to the head that clove the man's skull in half. Then Sorghum was lunging at him again, roaring in diabolic anger and pain - unafraid, Fred stepped forward and drove the Geoblade into Sorghum's throat with a two-handed strike. He realized his mistake a moment too late - the massive carcass now posed the threat of crushing him to death as it fell - so he quickly pulled the sword out, grabbed Sorghum's belt and slid forward between his legs to end up on the other side as the gigantic mountain man crashed to the ground. Fred jumped up and quickly scanned the pub for further danger, but everything was deathly quiet. The patrons either cowered under their tables, or gaped in disbelief at the carnage only a few moments of fighting had produced.

The door to the pub swung open, and a team of town guards spilled in. Their Commander wore gleaming magic chainmail and held a two-handed bastard sword, while his soldiers each had either a longsword or a halberd. "That's him!" someone in the crowd yelled. "He started it! Get that Geohound!"

1. Attempt to explain to the obvious soldier-scholars that you were fighting in self-defense, and try to get them to help rescue Tarsa.
2. Run for the door Tarsa had been dragged through.

Add New Option

Go Back

View Forward Story Tree
View Back Story Tree