They arrived in front of the tavern with a sign hanging above the door that read ‘The Angry Tortoise.’ The trio entered the building and were met by the tavern's ambience, bards playing music and telling stories along with the chatter of many adventurers and workers.
They found an open table and sat down. The tavern had about twenty or so tables all with varying sizes, some seating four and others seating eight or so. After some debate about the menu, The three of them finally settled on their food and drinks of choice. Aislin denied Zycor’s initial request for water and ordered him some alcohol as she talked about the sanctity of drinking while at a tavern with friends and family.
When the drinks finally arrived, Zycor and Aisha looked at each other before they took a swig out of their mugs. They quickly spat it out with disgusted looks on their faces, all while Aislin looked on and laughed. The group talked about miscellaneous things, Aisha and Aislin bickered as they normally did, Zycor and Aisha debated on which magic elements were superior. Aislin jumped in, talking about how brute strength was far superior than any magic as she flexed.
As the trio enjoyed their time, a group of drunk ruffians approached the table. “Well well *hic* well, aren’t you two ladies looking *hic* fiiiine~.” One of the men slurred, “Wanna come and *hic* have some fun with us, hehe.”
Aisha, glancing slightly with disdain, responded, “You have got to be kidding me. there is no way these people are real, I refuse to believe people actually act like this.”
“You tell ‘em girl!” Aislin cheered.
Agitated by Aisha’s statement, the leader of the group angrily slurred, “You listen here, girly, *hic* you gots no right refusing our generous offer. Hell, you don’t really have a choice either!”
Aislin glared at the man and warned, “I think it’s time for you guys to stop with your empty threats and head back to your table. She already refused your ‘generous offer,’and for that matter, so do I, so beat it.”
The Hooligans looked at each other and laughed, “An’ *hic* what’re you going to do about it, huh?”
The leader of the men then turned slightly and revealed the sword on his hip. Seeing the weapon and realizing the man was attempting to threaten them, sparks of electricity suddenly crackled forth from Zycor. The startled Hooligans shuffled back, nearly tripping over themselves, as they noticed Zycor’s disdain filled glare. “W-what!? Y-you looking *hic* to get hurt, kid? HUH?!”
The man took a heavy step forward in an effort to intimidate Zycor as he continued, “What can a chicken shit little kid like you do, huh?”
Zycor, who remained seated only because Aisha was holding him down, stated, “If you are going to hurt my family… I’ll end you.”
The hooligans looked at each other and laughed, “Oh yeah? Honestly kid, you should really learn to pick your battles *hic* better.”
As his rage built, Zycor responded, “I don’t think a couple of man children who look as you do and have to threaten ladies in order for them to even talk to you are much of a challenge.”
Their irritation hitting a peak, the man began to reach for his sword and remarked, “HUH?! What was that punk!? What do I look like!?”
From the left side of the man, a deep voice answered his question, “Like a bitch in need of a lesson.”
After the statement was made, a massive fist collided with the man's skull, throwing him away as he landed, and broke the nearest table.
Zycor, Aisha, and Aislin turned their attention from the now unconscious man to the thrower of the punch. As they do, they are met with a giant of a man. He towered over the other miscreants. He was ripped to an astonishing degree, and was covered in various scars, most notably the one running down the entirety of his left arm. His skin was tan with a slight green hue, and his eyes were piercing with a slight yellow hue. He had tusk-like teeth coming out from his bottom jaw by his molars, and had orcish ears. He had slicked back black hair. He wore fur padded leather under armor that was beneath a few pieces of plate mail items, such as gauntlets, shoulder pads and sabatons. The armor was rather generic, aside from the horns or tusks of some large animals that hung from parts of it.
“Who the hell are you!?” one of the remaining miscreants screamed.
“The individual who is going to set up an early appointment with the goddess for you if you don’t GET THE HELL OUT OF HERE!” The man yelled. The hooligans let out a small squeal, ran over to their knocked out leader, and scurried out of the tavern.
Another man began to speak up as he walked over, “Geez, you are always like this. Starting trouble takes so much energy, I just don’t know how you can stand it.”
This man wasn’t quite as tall as the first, though he still appeared taller than average. He had dark green eyes that gave off a sense of distance. His hair was a light blonde color, slicked and parted, and he had a bit of stubble on his chin. Like the man standing beside him, he too had various scars. One that jumped out was an explosion like scar on his left cheek.
His skin was rough and calloused from wielding his weapons and fighting. He appeared to be physically built like the first man, though to a more reasonable degree. He wore heavy plate mail that had three main layers: a leather undercoat, which helped to pad the armor and protect him should the other two layers get punctured, a chain mail coat and leg coverings and an outer layer consisted of a full plate mail suit.
The first man angrily snapped back, “Hey, I am not always the reason trouble starts. But I am the one to finish it.”
“Whatever you say,” the second man replied.
Aislin spoke up and said, “Thank you for stepping in there, they were really annoying. What are your names?”
The first man introduced them, “My name is Bazmahl Dragonaxe, but just call me Baz, easier to say anyways. My gloomy friend here is Mylon Audouin, you can call him Mylo.”
Mylo commented, “Please don’t call me that…”
“Well, thank you again, Baz and Mylon.” Aislin said, expressing her thanks one last time.
Baz shrugged, “Don’t mention it, I needed to punch something anyways.”
Baz turned to Zycor, “Hey, wait a minute, I think I recognize you. Yeah, aren’t you that kid that’s always around the guild?”
Zycor nodded in response. “Not much of a talker, are you kid?” Baz started as he shrugged, “That’s fine, I personally hate this kind of idle chatter myself. But, Mylon said I should at least try to practice ‘social etiquette.’ Though, I doubt I will use it even if I did learn, there’s a reason I keep him around haha.”
Mylon sighed, “Listen, just because you do not see a use for it at the moment, does not mean it is useless.”
Baz, getting irritated, turned to walk away as he sighed, “Ah~, shut up Mylon. It ain’t gonna happen, get over it. Anyways, it was nice meeting you guys. I see you all at the guild often so I am certain we will meet again.”
And with that, Baz and Mylon left. As they walked to the door, they stopped at the large weapon check in, a place to store larger weapons that would be too awkward to set at a table. Zycor, Aisha, and Aislin saw Baz pick up a giant two handed war axe like it was nothing and walk out of the bar, slinging it onto his back as the tavern doors closed behind the duo.
The trio soon followed suit as they headed back to the guild. “Oh, shit.” Aislin remarked with a slight hint of fear in her voice, “It’s already after dark. Adria is going to have my head for keeping you two out so late.”
Aisha smugly commented, “I thought you said it would be fine and all you had to do was say ‘it was for his own good, this experience will help him grow as a man’?”
“Shut up lover girl,” Aislin snarked.
Aisha flusteredly stammered, “S-shut up! I swear I will tell Adria about the situation YOU put Zycor in!”
Aislin replied, “That’s not what happened and you know it!”
“Yeah,” Aisha started, “but who is she going to believe, hm?”
Aislin muttered with realization, “You little shit.”
When they finally got back, Adria scolded them for staying out so late, though left it at that. Aisha’s father was waiting inside and after exchanging hellos and goodbyes, he and Aisha left. Zycor spent the next thirty or so minutes talking about his day to the relentless Adria. After that, Adria and Aislin said goodnight to Zycor and he did the same back. With Zycor left alone in his room, he drifted off to sleep while he thought about all that happened.
They arrived in front of the tavern with a sign hanging above the door that read ‘The Angry Tortoise.’ The trio entered the building and were met by the tavern's ambience, bards playing music and telling stories along with the chatter of many adventurers and workers.
They found an open table and sat down. The tavern had about twenty or so tables all with varying sizes, some seating four and others seating eight or so. After some debate about the menu, The three of them finally settled on their food and drinks of choice. Aislin denied Zycor’s initial request for water and ordered him some alcohol as she talked about the sanctity of drinking while at a tavern with friends and family.
When the drinks finally arrived, Zycor and Aisha looked at each other before they took a swig out of their mugs. They quickly spat it out with disgusted looks on their faces, all while Aislin looked on and laughed. The group talked about miscellaneous things, Aisha and Aislin bickered as they normally did, Zycor and Aisha debated on which magic elements were superior. Aislin jumped in, talking about how brute strength was far superior than any magic as she flexed.
As the trio enjoyed their time, a group of drunk ruffians approached the table. “Well well *hic* well, aren’t you two ladies looking *hic* fiiiine~.” One of the men slurred, “Wanna come and *hic* have some fun with us, hehe.”
Aisha, glancing slightly with disdain, responded, “You have got to be kidding me. there is no way these people are real, I refuse to believe people actually act like this.”
“You tell ‘em girl!” Aislin cheered.
Agitated by Aisha’s statement, the leader of the group angrily slurred, “You listen here, girly, *hic* you gots no right refusing our generous offer. Hell, you don’t really have a choice either!”
Aislin glared at the man and warned, “I think it’s time for you guys to stop with your empty threats and head back to your table. She already refused your ‘generous offer,’and for that matter, so do I, so beat it.”
The Hooligans looked at each other and laughed, “An’ *hic* what’re you going to do about it, huh?”
The leader of the men then turned slightly and revealed the sword on his hip. Seeing the weapon and realizing the man was attempting to threaten them, sparks of electricity suddenly crackled forth from Zycor. The startled Hooligans shuffled back, nearly tripping over themselves, as they noticed Zycor’s disdain filled glare. “W-what!? Y-you looking *hic* to get hurt, kid? HUH?!”
The man took a heavy step forward in an effort to intimidate Zycor as he continued, “What can a chicken shit little kid like you do, huh?”
Zycor, who remained seated only because Aisha was holding him down, stated, “If you are going to hurt my family… I’ll end you.”
The hooligans looked at each other and laughed, “Oh yeah? Honestly kid, you should really learn to pick your battles *hic* better.”
As his rage built, Zycor responded, “I don’t think a couple of man children who look as you do and have to threaten ladies in order for them to even talk to you are much of a challenge.”
Their irritation hitting a peak, the man began to reach for his sword and remarked, “HUH?! What was that punk!? What do I look like!?”
From the left side of the man, a deep voice answered his question, “Like a bitch in need of a lesson.”
After the statement was made, a massive fist collided with the man's skull, throwing him away as he landed, and broke the nearest table.
Zycor, Aisha, and Aislin turned their attention from the now unconscious man to the thrower of the punch. As they do, they are met with a giant of a man. He towered over the other miscreants. He was ripped to an astonishing degree, and was covered in various scars, most notably the one running down the entirety of his left arm. His skin was tan with a slight green hue, and his eyes were piercing with a slight yellow hue. He had tusk-like teeth coming out from his bottom jaw by his molars, and had orcish ears. He had slicked back black hair. He wore fur padded leather under armor that was beneath a few pieces of plate mail items, such as gauntlets, shoulder pads and sabatons. The armor was rather generic, aside from the horns or tusks of some large animals that hung from parts of it.
“Who the hell are you!?” one of the remaining miscreants screamed.
“The individual who is going to set up an early appointment with the goddess for you if you don’t GET THE HELL OUT OF HERE!” The man yelled. The hooligans let out a small squeal, ran over to their knocked out leader, and scurried out of the tavern.
Another man began to speak up as he walked over, “Geez, you are always like this. Starting trouble takes so much energy, I just don’t know how you can stand it.”
This man wasn’t quite as tall as the first, though he still appeared taller than average. He had dark green eyes that gave off a sense of distance. His hair was a light blonde color, slicked and parted, and he had a bit of stubble on his chin. Like the man standing beside him, he too had various scars. One that jumped out was an explosion like scar on his left cheek.
His skin was rough and calloused from wielding his weapons and fighting. He appeared to be physically built like the first man, though to a more reasonable degree. He wore heavy plate mail that had three main layers: a leather undercoat, which helped to pad the armor and protect him should the other two layers get punctured, a chain mail coat and leg coverings and an outer layer consisted of a full plate mail suit.
The first man angrily snapped back, “Hey, I am not always the reason trouble starts. But I am the one to finish it.”
“Whatever you say,” the second man replied.
Aislin spoke up and said, “Thank you for stepping in there, they were really annoying. What are your names?”
The first man introduced them, “My name is Bazmahl Dragonaxe, but just call me Baz, easier to say anyways. My gloomy friend here is Mylon Audouin, you can call him Mylo.”
Mylo commented, “Please don’t call me that…”
“Well, thank you again, Baz and Mylon.” Aislin said, expressing her thanks one last time.
Baz shrugged, “Don’t mention it, I needed to punch something anyways.”
Baz turned to Zycor, “Hey, wait a minute, I think I recognize you. Yeah, aren’t you that kid that’s always around the guild?”
Zycor nodded in response. “Not much of a talker, are you kid?” Baz started as he shrugged, “That’s fine, I personally hate this kind of idle chatter myself. But, Mylon said I should at least try to practice ‘social etiquette.’ Though, I doubt I will use it even if I did learn, there’s a reason I keep him around haha.”
Mylon sighed, “Listen, just because you do not see a use for it at the moment, does not mean it is useless.”
Baz, getting irritated, turned to walk away as he sighed, “Ah~, shut up Mylon. It ain’t gonna happen, get over it. Anyways, it was nice meeting you guys. I see you all at the guild often so I am certain we will meet again.”
And with that, Baz and Mylon left. As they walked to the door, they stopped at the large weapon check in, a place to store larger weapons that would be too awkward to set at a table. Zycor, Aisha, and Aislin saw Baz pick up a giant two handed war axe like it was nothing and walk out of the bar, slinging it onto his back as the tavern doors closed behind the duo.
The trio soon followed suit as they headed back to the guild. “Oh, shit.” Aislin remarked with a slight hint of fear in her voice, “It’s already after dark. Adria is going to have my head for keeping you two out so late.”
Aisha smugly commented, “I thought you said it would be fine and all you had to do was say ‘it was for his own good, this experience will help him grow as a man’?”
“Shut up lover girl,” Aislin snarked.
Aisha flusteredly stammered, “S-shut up! I swear I will tell Adria about the situation YOU put Zycor in!”
Aislin replied, “That’s not what happened and you know it!”
“Yeah,” Aisha started, “but who is she going to believe, hm?”
Aislin muttered with realization, “You little shit.”
When they finally got back, Adria scolded them for staying out so late, though left it at that. Aisha’s father was waiting inside and after exchanging hellos and goodbyes, he and Aisha left. Zycor spent the next thirty or so minutes talking about his day to the relentless Adria. After that, Adria and Aislin said goodnight to Zycor and he did the same back. With Zycor left alone in his room, he drifted off to sleep while he thought about all that happened.
