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Message: <blockquote data-quote="Krug" data-source="post: 1257087" data-attributes="member: 2141">Shein felt a pebble kicked towards him and turned around. The Dead’un loomed over him and swiped at the hobbit. He ducked at the last moment, nearly losing hold of his basket. Shein stabbed up blindly and his dagger pierced the creature’s ribcage. Dark black ochre flowed down the blade.The creature folded and collapsed on top of Shein. He screamed as he was pinned y the weight of the dead-again corpse. Black goo flowed out of the creature’s open mouth and onto Shein’s face. Shein kicked and tried to roll away, but it was no use.How did I get into this? Thought Shein. “HELP! KILJOR! HELP ME! YOU’LL… PLEASE!”A moment later the corpse was dragged off him. It was Kiljor. “You called?” asked the beggar swordsman, grinning. He had three long bloody scars on his shoulder, but the wound didn’t seem to concern “You’re.. you’re… wounded!” Shein said. He felt woozy again.“Yes, not a big deal, really. Nice to have a fight, you know… the blood rushing through your body. I see you didn’t do too badly yourself,” he said, kicking the Dead’Un Shein had killed.Shein clutched onto his basket. “Thanks for helping me…”“Oh it was nothing. Now then, you ought to buy me a pint!”“I can’t afford much, but yes,” the hobbit thought swiftly. “At the Boar’s head it be!”“Well.. it’s right behind us!” said Kiljor, rubbing his hands.“It’s behind you? It was here all the while? And you didn’t tell me?” Shein said, unaware that his voice had raised a pitch.“Well you didna want to part with your precious sausages laddie…” Kiljor dragged him up and slapped him hard on his back. The motley two walked into the tavern. The picture of the Boar Head was well-worn, and the interior was likewise rundown. Merchants, mercenaries and visiting farmers sat around with flagons of ale and mead on their table, and a dwarven bard sang off-key ribald verses on his double-gong. An orc and a human were wrestling at a far-corner, as coins changed hands to bet on the outcome, while at another end Enty-Arcanists were pitting their battle-scorpions against each other. A Gnome Bubble Wizard sat near the fire, sending wildly-coloured bubbles floating up to the ceiling where they popped in spectacular mini-fireworks of dripping gauzes of light.“I’ll get right to business and ask them to send you an ale,” said Shein, knowing it meant most of his day’s earnings. However, as he had conversed with Kiljor, his heart felt lighter. The beggar was much more than he seemed, despite his tardy appearance, and had fought in many battles. Shein went up to the bar and the bartender, an Orc with an eye-patch over his right-eye, snarled at him. “What do you want? We don’t serve no goat’s milk here!”Shein breathed in. He had never spoken to an Orc before. He tried not to shudder. “I’m.. I’m delivering sausages!”“You are uh? You are bleedin’ late!” said the Orc, his rancid breath, resembling rotting strawberries, washed over the hobbit. The orc smashed his hands against the bar. “I’ve lost two.. no three customers coz of ya!”“Well, it isn’t my fault! Your sign is worn-out! It looks like a sheep’s head!” shouted Shein, indignantly. The melee had give him courage, though probably not wisdom.“You dare speak to Barvus tha’ way?” said the Orc, who reached for a heavy, wooden club behind him.“What appears to be the problem?” said a female voice. Shein turned to the speaker, and saw a female halfling with braided hair, looking sternly at Barvus. She was dressed in a simple smock with a bloody apron, and her gaze was fiercely stern. “You threatening the customers again, Barvus?”It was then that Shein realised she was the proprietor of this tavern.</blockquote>

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