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Hold Back The Night [IC]
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<blockquote data-quote="Fenris" data-source="post: 7010842" data-attributes="member: 2820"><p>Derngar spit out some blood and smiled. His teeth were red with his own blood. He looked at the half-orc standing across from him and laughed. Derngar stepped forward landed a hard left in his opponents gut and as the man bent over, brought up his right fist under the half-orc’s chin. The half-orc left his feet as he flew backwards, landing on his back and not moving. A sudden cheer arose as the fight finished, with other members of the fight club waking up the fallen fighter, and mobbing Derngar to congratulate him, especially if they bet on him.</p><p></p><p>Derngar stumbled up the stairs from the fight club to the main floor and over to the bar, still smiling. He collected his winnings and a very large drink. As people passed they slapped him on the shoulder and he exchanged the occasional hand shake with those he knew better. Derngar was here often. It was easy money, he won most of his fights. And of course, if he ever needed to make the fight stop he could. He merely had to say the word and the violence stopped. That was a new experience for him. His years in the darkness had been filled with terror and violence that never stopped, never cared. </p><p></p><p>Ever since he had escaped the prison, Derngar had been enjoying almost everything about the surface world. He fought (when he chose), he drank (often to excess), he gambled. And he was joyous in it. He did not join the old men at the bar scowling into their bitter dregs. He was with the other young men and women by the fire, roaring with laughter. It was as though he was making up for all the life he had lost in the pit.</p><p></p><p>He ordered a large plate of meat and cheese. As he ate he remembered back to when he had first gotten out of the pit. The first thing he had done was steal some food. He gorged himself. Had he know how badly the family he stole from needed it, he never would have. But he had no concept of how bad things were. He had paid that family back several times over now. </p><p>It had been a rough adjustment of course. He had no idea how to even live outside of the pit. Other than what his precious book spoke about. But those estates and farms were gone. However, Dernagr was happy. Almost maddenly so. For all the patrols, the lack of food, the oppression, this was still paradise compared to where he had spent his entire life. </p><p></p><p>So he laughed at life, for he was alive. He laughed with friends for he had them. He ate and drank because he could. It had been little over a year since he had escaped. And while the joy of life had not worn off, he was able to see around him more. He saw that other people were not happy, could not be happy. They did not appreciate what they had. But he also saw the Magi at work. He saw their henchmen taking whatever they wished. He saw their vile golem walking the street. And while he drank and fought, there were times he was quiet and read from a small book that was quite precious to him. It seemed odd sometimes to see this huge man, alone in a quiet corner at times, reading a tiny book. Of course no one at the Velvet Rose dared ask what it was or why. They all enjoyed Derngar’s fights and jokes, but never asked more. He never told more. </p><p></p><p>Tonight Lorelei was out on stage in a beautiful green outfit. Derngar ordered another drink and took a seat between the stage and the bar. He sat and closed his eyes listening to her song. He was quite, and did not move during her whole song. He did not devour her with his eyes as so many did, he never watched her on stage, though he always listened. After she was done, and had moved to the bar, as though the spell was lifted and he could look at her, he did for a minute. And then picked up his beer and moved back to the fire. The smile and laughter returning to his face as people joined him there.</p></blockquote><p></p>
[QUOTE="Fenris, post: 7010842, member: 2820"] Derngar spit out some blood and smiled. His teeth were red with his own blood. He looked at the half-orc standing across from him and laughed. Derngar stepped forward landed a hard left in his opponents gut and as the man bent over, brought up his right fist under the half-orc’s chin. The half-orc left his feet as he flew backwards, landing on his back and not moving. A sudden cheer arose as the fight finished, with other members of the fight club waking up the fallen fighter, and mobbing Derngar to congratulate him, especially if they bet on him. Derngar stumbled up the stairs from the fight club to the main floor and over to the bar, still smiling. He collected his winnings and a very large drink. As people passed they slapped him on the shoulder and he exchanged the occasional hand shake with those he knew better. Derngar was here often. It was easy money, he won most of his fights. And of course, if he ever needed to make the fight stop he could. He merely had to say the word and the violence stopped. That was a new experience for him. His years in the darkness had been filled with terror and violence that never stopped, never cared. Ever since he had escaped the prison, Derngar had been enjoying almost everything about the surface world. He fought (when he chose), he drank (often to excess), he gambled. And he was joyous in it. He did not join the old men at the bar scowling into their bitter dregs. He was with the other young men and women by the fire, roaring with laughter. It was as though he was making up for all the life he had lost in the pit. He ordered a large plate of meat and cheese. As he ate he remembered back to when he had first gotten out of the pit. The first thing he had done was steal some food. He gorged himself. Had he know how badly the family he stole from needed it, he never would have. But he had no concept of how bad things were. He had paid that family back several times over now. It had been a rough adjustment of course. He had no idea how to even live outside of the pit. Other than what his precious book spoke about. But those estates and farms were gone. However, Dernagr was happy. Almost maddenly so. For all the patrols, the lack of food, the oppression, this was still paradise compared to where he had spent his entire life. So he laughed at life, for he was alive. He laughed with friends for he had them. He ate and drank because he could. It had been little over a year since he had escaped. And while the joy of life had not worn off, he was able to see around him more. He saw that other people were not happy, could not be happy. They did not appreciate what they had. But he also saw the Magi at work. He saw their henchmen taking whatever they wished. He saw their vile golem walking the street. And while he drank and fought, there were times he was quiet and read from a small book that was quite precious to him. It seemed odd sometimes to see this huge man, alone in a quiet corner at times, reading a tiny book. Of course no one at the Velvet Rose dared ask what it was or why. They all enjoyed Derngar’s fights and jokes, but never asked more. He never told more. Tonight Lorelei was out on stage in a beautiful green outfit. Derngar ordered another drink and took a seat between the stage and the bar. He sat and closed his eyes listening to her song. He was quite, and did not move during her whole song. He did not devour her with his eyes as so many did, he never watched her on stage, though he always listened. After she was done, and had moved to the bar, as though the spell was lifted and he could look at her, he did for a minute. And then picked up his beer and moved back to the fire. The smile and laughter returning to his face as people joined him there. [/QUOTE]
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