2 The Tavern

10 Years Later

Solskin

Shiria

It wasn't that good of an ale, but it was was ale all the same. Gaining a reputation as a monster slayer really comes with its benefits. Free food, ale, and the gratitude of all the townspeople. But I am restless staying here. I need to repay those men who gave their lives trying to defend me. This is my silent vow. To continue their work and follow their duties however I can. To Erik and his men. To the brave soldiers fighting It in the forest. I will join the army and personally serve the king to repay my debt. But, until then, this is nice.

"Another!"

"Sure, Solskin. Keep killin 'em nasty gribblies out there n' there be ale for ya here," said the tavern keeper, a scrawny man compared to all of the customers, except one.

He looked shorter than everyone and less built, but Solskin sensed danger irradiating from him. He didn't just sit in the corner focusing on his drink like all the other drunkards, but his black eyes darted across the room, scanning. He looked relaxed, but I noticed his left arm, wrapped in dirty yellow bandages, always stayed close to his sword. He intrigued me. His clothes were ragged and torn, but I could see the tattered form of a black and gold dragon head. The insignia of the Galian Royal Army. Gathering my pints of ale, I plopped down on a seat next to him. He studied me with a disinterested stare but said nothing.

"You, my friend, need something to drink. The strongest you have for my friend here, keeps!"

"Dwarven port, comin' right up."

Two large wooden mug were slammed onto the table by one of the waitress. The port inside was a noxious, cloudy yellow that made me regret ever laying sight on it. My childish impulses have once again landed me in an unfortunate situation.

"Might as well drink. It's all on me, my friend." I raised my mug to him in a gesture of friendship, a bit of the drink sloshing out of the cup and onto the table. This is going to suck so much.

"That would be very unwise. Dwarven port will probably kill you."

"My stomach is stronger than you think, old man."

Raising the mug in toast, I took a long gulp of the port and instantly regretted everything up until now. The port was pure, one hundred percent, unadulterated alcohol and tasted of iron rust and dirt. I immediately felt the drink taking effect. Regret was all I felt until the point my vision turned black.

Xavier

I watched the idiot down the port despite my warning.

"Imbecile, you should listen to your elders," I muttered under my breath. I sighed and attempted to excuse myself from the table, but found myself trapped in place by a drunken arm slung over my shoulders.

"So-o. I-I 'ave some-somethin I need to a- ask you."

"You're too drunk to hold a decent conversation. Sober up before asking me for information."

With that, I shrugged off his arm and walked upstairs to my room. Before reaching the stairs, two big bruisers stood in the way. They were laborers with large arms meant for lifting haystacks. Judging by the sweet perfume on their breath, they were very drunk. Great, this going to be fun.

"Missster Heerrr-ooooo dude has 'old you th-that you 've som-ing he ne-eds."

"Sit down before you tip over and break something important."

"Ain't 'ery nice. Fred, let's ge-et 'm." With that, both slabs of animated meat begun charging towards me, their movements obviously impaired by liquor.

Years of combat training and battlefield experience overroad my initial surprise. I crouched low to the ground, sweeping out my leg, tripping one man. Off-balance, he slammed into a nearby table. Switching focus to the second man, I swiftly raised my gauntlet into a block to defend against an incoming kick. I followed the block with a jab to the stomach with my free hand. Reeling from the pain, he stumbled away from me. I took the opportunity to shove him in his chest and sent him flying after his drunken comrade who was still trying to get up. He landed on the other with a resounding smack. They're down for now.

Looking back, the rest of the bar's patrons' eyes were locked onto me, dumbfounded. Stools clattered to the ground as a few shot up and started walking towards me in a way I could only assume they thought was threatening.

"Hey, he's attacking Solskin's friends. Who does this guy think he is?"

"Yeah! Git 'im!"

The situation soon turned hectic. They all charged at me: one swung his fist towards my head in a wide arc, one seedy-looking one next to a wall reached for their dagger, another dived towards my legs. I quickly assessed the relative threat of each, remaining calm and collected. After assessing the situation, I sped towards the one with the dagger first. Grasping his hand, I squeezed until I heard a sharp crack and a whimper, incapacitating him. Not finished, I slammed their hand on the rock wall. Leaving the seedy man to clutch his hand in pain, I turned towards the remaining patrons ready to defend.

"He-ey! Th-there's no ne-need for fighting, I just wa-wanted to talk to -im!"

The rest of Solskin's admirers looked at each other for a second.

"Já, stop fighting. Solskin told ya morons to stop." They cried.

"Tha-at's right. Ju-st go b-b-back to your busssiness. Get us a so-me of the-them drinks, alright?" Solskin said.

Many of his followers returned to their seats, however, a few remained to eye me with a dirty look. The other followers noticed, and like the drunkards they truly were, they yelled at each other to sit down and used their fists to force them to comply. The situation soon went sideways and the entire tavern erupted into a hectic brawl. Fists flew everywhere as they swung wildly at friend and foe alike, attempting to land a hit. I stood back and watched for a few minutes before the seedy man came toward me again.

"You little shit. Imma get you back for my hand." He threw his knife at me. As I was about to dodge, a wild swing knocked me over into the path of the knife. It got lodged painfully in my left arm. With that, I felt an anger welling from within me that was not my own. A cold hatred directed toward everyone in this tiny, insignificant bar.

Persephone

I watched the brawl quietly from my corner of the room, stirring my spoon around my cold beef and cabbage stew. It wasn't interesting. Not a single soul was destined to die tonight. Suddenly, I felt death sweep over me. Confused, I pulled out my pocket watch and pointed it at every person in the brawl. No, not the angry knife wielder. Or him with the multiple pints of ale. Who is it? What was that strange sensation? Someone caught my eye.

He was in the edge of the brawl, but he exuded this unnatural feeling. It looked as if a battle was raging within him, a battle he was slowly losing. I saw his eyes. They were brown, but a flicker of something passed through them, disappearing before I could identify it. Who is this man? I directed my watch to him and was dumbfounded. The hour hand rested at twelve, a clear indication he was dead. Undead, perhaps? Glancing up, I quickly dismissed the idea. The man did not look decomposed, and it would be difficult to halt the natural process for a corpse. Obviously not undead either. Curious, I risked a second glance. An anomaly? Did he escape Hades? Thanatos would be very displeased with this. My thoughts were cut short as my attention was drawn to his wrapped arm. It drew in the shadows of the room. Black wisps snaked around it as he raised his hand into the air and muttered something under his breath. Suddenly, the entire room dropped to the floor, curled up and started crying as if they were in a horrifying nightmare. I stared in shock at the man who single handedly brought the entire room to their knees.

He knelt to the floor and touched the seedy one who was curled up into a ball. The collapsed man shuddered at his touch. The strange man looked saddened and apologetic. He stood and strode out of the swinging doors into the night. Interesting. Very interesting. My mission to the Capital can wait, he needs to observed.

Solskin

Through the thick fog of drunkenness, I could barely process what had happened. I felt a spell assail my body, but I managed to shake it off. I looked across to see a woman, dressed in the robes of Thanatos, pursue after the soldier from the Royal Army . What in the name of Hel happened? I just wanted to ask the guy on how to become a royal guard and serve the king. Looking down at the dwarven port in my hand, I cast it aside and stumbled after the death cleric. However, as soon as I opened the door, both of them had disappeared.