A well earned drink

[Grumbaki]

Sven walked into the inn smiling broadly. He was still walking with a limp, seeing as how a goblin's spear had all but impaled his leg just two days ago. Still, he was happy. He knew that given a few weeks of rest, some good food and some strong ale would heal it up in no time. It was a fact that he was proud of, that he had received much worse injuries, ones that would kill not only most humans, but dwarfs as well, and still he was in good enough shape to fight.

He walked up to the bar and pulled himself up onto one of the bar stools. What he didn't notice was that two of the mercenaries that he had come in with had followed him into the bar and had taken a seat in the corner. They were both glaring at him, but made no move to confront him.

"Bar keep! Ale!"

Sven bellowed out his order, which caused a few patrons to look at him. He certainly looked 'odd', but most of the patrons had seen enough dwarfs to only glance at him. Sven was different though. With a torn out eye replaced by a gem of obvious value, and with a pair of axes chained to his wrists, both hanging from his belt, and with shoulders broader than what was humanly possible, he definately looked unique enough to usually turn a few heads, even when he wasn't yelling.

A dwarf appeared behind the counter, looking rather annoyed at being yelled at.

"Ale...dwarven ale. Ye got "Krak's finest"?"

"Nay, but we do have "Goddi's Gold Origional"

"What are ye waiting for then? I be needin' a pint and I jus' got paid! Harhar!"

A smile appeared on Bragen's face as he went to get the ale. Sven grinned as the pint was brought to him. In the back of the inn the two mercenaries smiled as well.

[edit by Kadrik, Oleg is t'other one ;D]

[Drasanil]

[OOC: If ye plan tae have a brawl going, there is only one condition. I want it to be huge, verging on a riot huge, atleast that way we can have some real fun, 10xps.]

[Grumbaki]

ooc: the origional plan was an ambush set up by them, but a riot sounds like more fun!

The mercenaries nodded to each other. One of them got up and walked over and while looking out of it took a sip from his mug of ale. As he did so, his accomplise sat back and slid a knife out of it's sheath and rested it on his lap. The door opened at the other mercenaries from the caravan started to come into the bar in ones and twos, all dressed like commoners. The mercenary by the window took a step back and bumped into the man sitting at the table behind him, an off duty guard and spilled his ale. He turned angrily and shouted out loudly "Watch where you are going!" as he brought the now empty mug around in an arc, connecting it with the side of the guard's head. The guard fell to the ground, stunned and very confused. His friends though surged up and charged right at the protagonist. At this three of the disguised mercenaries ran to his aid, getting into a brawl with the guards. Seeing this, a few of the larger tavern patrons came to the guard's aid, rushing into the meele. This in turn brought in the rest of the mercenaries, and soon there was a disorganized brawl that was spreading through the tavern, with everyone either involved or caught up in it.

Bragden, seeing this quickly started to move the money and the ale into the back room so that none of it would be lost, stolen or broken. Sven, for his part sat there looking at the meele while sipping at his ale, savoring every last drop. It had been the first mug of dwarven ale he had in years, and he was determined to savor it. That was until a peasant was hit in the head with a bar stool and landed on Sven, which in turned knocked both of them to the ground and spilled all of his precious ale. Sven cursed as he hit the ground, both due to his injured leg and also because of the loss of his precious alchohol. Getting up to his feet and glared at everyone within the meele and then charged into it.

His presence was immediatley felt. Rather than use the improvised weapons that everyone else was using, he just used his fists. Where he went bones were broken, concussions given and arms pulled out of theri sockets. Grabbing a guard around the waist, he picked the poor man up and litterly through him out of the window. He then turned and headbutted another one in the ground, took a bottle over the head and then broke three of the ribs of the man who had hit him.

Sven was busy beating a man's face into an unrecognizable pulp when the mercenary with the knife came up behind him. With a greedy glint his his eyes he rammed the knife into Sven's back, expertly placing it through a rip in Sven's mail coat. Sven fell to the ground, cathing himself with one hand, shocked by the sudden pain. The mercenary pulled the dagger out and put it across Sven's neck. Before he could slit his throat though, Sven grabbed his hand. Sven's grip closed around it. The mercenary screamed as his hand broke. With a tug Sven pulled the man down to the ground. With a roar of rage Sven brought his fist down onto the man's head, breaking his jaw. He did this again and again until the mercenary stopped moving. He only stopped when a common fell down onto him, knocking him off the now dead mercenary. Sven stumped to his feet, swinging his fists wildly at those around him. The brawl was still going strong, even though about a quater of those involved were now incapacitated.

Out of the meele came two more of Sven's former comrades, each one with a dagger in their hand. The first one reached Sven, but Sven had seen him early enough and reacted faster than the mercenary. Grabbing an unbroken bottle he smashed it across the mercenary's face, knocking him to the ground. He then stomped on his neck, breaking it. The other mercenary came up to his side and tried to stab Sven in the face. The dagger cut down the side of his face, leaving a nasty gash. Sven turned and punched the man in the gut, winding him. As the man doubled over, Sven's hands came around his throat. Breaking his neck was all too easy.

Leaving the two men dead Sven started to fight his way clear out of the bar. He simply charged out, knocking everyone in his way down, and beating anyone who refused to move. It didn't take him long to force his way out.

Sven emerged from the inn breathing heavily. His leg was still hurting like hell, and he now had two new wounds. Sven looked back through the open door, and caught the sight of the captain of the mercenaries he had served with looking at him. He was trying to get out, but he was quickly swallowed up by the brawl he had orchastrated. With a growl Sven's hands reached for his axes, but he stopped at a man put his hands on his shoulders. He turned around and looked up just in time to see an officer of the watch along with a regiment of men. All of them were armed with cudgels and were armoured.

"Don't even think about it. We'll take care of this."

"That bastard tried to kill me! I'll have 'is head!"

"Heinrich. Take the dwarf to the watch house. Hear his story and have a scribe take it down. Everyone else, we are going in."

The watchmen marched into the tavern. Their presence was enough to break up most of the fighting, as those inside quickly tried to escape, lest they be thrown in jail. Most were too slow though, as the cudgles of the watchmen did what barstools and mugs had so far failed to do. Sven watched the watchmen go to work with a glum look on his face. The watchman standing with him tugged on his shoulder.

"Come on. We'll take you to the watch, and if you've got the gold we'll call a physician. We'll catch whoever tried to kill you, and you can see him at the station."

Sven took a moment to process this, and then nodded. Let the manlings do the work, and he'll get his vengeance. It sounded like a good deal to him. Slowly he limped his way after the watchman towards the watchhouse.

[Drasanil]

[OOC: 30xps.]

[Grumbaki]

Sven made his way back to The Headless Orc, limping slightly as he went. He went through the door to find Bragden cleaning up after the brawl. The dwarf looked at Sven and sighed.

"We're closed for now. Come back tommorow."

"Aye, aye. But first, I owe ye some gold. Three crowns for me drink."

"Oh...I thank ye. Here, follow me back here. Ah, thank ye for the gold. Ye be a good lad, ye be the first one to e'er do such a thing e're."

Sven looked at Bragden with surprise on his face. "But...o' course I would. I owed it to ye!"

"Aye, aye. 'eh, would ye mind helping me bring the broken tables and stools intae the back? It'll save me some time."

---

With Sven's help the bar was quickly cleaned up. Bragden, as a way of thanks brought out a keg of cheap ale, and the two of them started to swap stories. Before long, Sven had told the tale of the merchant and his mercenaries, the ambush of the wolf riders and how his comrades had betrayed him.

"...bastards! Well, ye'll be staying here for awhile, aye?"

"Aye, till me leg heals up."

"Well, ye'll need a place to stay. Tell ye what, I saw how ye fought in that brawl. Stay here as a bouncer, and I'll give ye a free room to stay in and two meals a day. The drinks won't be free though, ye'll have to pay for that."

"Aye...aye. So, what'd I have to do?"

"Well, anyone causes trouble, ye throw 'em out. A brawl starts, ye break it up. Easy, eh?"

"Aye! Sounds like a right good time. I'm in."

"Good! We'll drink to it."

And thus, Sven was employed.