“A letter
from the Spellguard?” the shardmind asks himself “Did they found out I’ve
killed one of them? I thought I had sorted that out…” He walks across his apartment,
while deep in thought, milling over the words on the letter. Finally he says “I
should head over there, to see what’s wrong. I don’t want to get in trouble
with them. Again.”
Being a
mound of stone, the shardmind quickly readies himself to go. He doesn’t lose
time with the frivolities of life, like eating, washing or even dressing. He
wears only a tattered robe, so he can cover what would seem appropriate for the
society in general, so he can easily fit in.
He arrived a
short time later at the bar, his presence and odd aspect always commanding the looks of
everyone around him. It doesn’t bother him, though. Living among the flesh bags
for more than 3 decades has hardened the already rock hard psion.
Shortly
after him, a human walks in. Wearing a brown robe, with the hood pulled over
his head, he looks flustered. He promptly sits in the same table as Biff and
Beef “Hey! So how’s it going guys?” he asks the brothers “Did someone steal all
the ale? I know a bovine that’s gonna be mad at that!”
Trading
confused looks with his brother, the minotaur lets out a low growl while saying
“The ‘bovine’ here thinks you’re at the wrong table, human.”
“Calm down
Beef” the halfling says, getting up and near the human “You’re certainly in the
wrong table buddy. What makes you think this is your place?” he says, now to
the human, while putting a hand on his shoulder and the other starting to make
her way towards the human’s pocket. He quickly returns to his seat “Maybe we’ve
got ahead of ourselves. And maybe, just maybe, you can explain us the meaning of
this” he slams a letter he had just stolen from the human’s pocket in the table
“Mr. Wuobi Wan.”
“I-I’m sorry
for my rudeness, friends” Wuobi stutters, clearly intimidated by the burly
minotaur and the sudden appearance of his own Spellguard letter “As I was
arriving here, I saved a young elf child that was being mugged. But when I
thought I had the scoundrel under control, more of his friends appeared, so I
had to flee. Since I had business here in the bar, and since you guys look
tough, I thought they wouldn’t mess with me.”
“It pains me
thoroughly to know that there are those who take what does not belong to them.”
Biff says, shaking his head in disapproval. “Still, you’ve done well to come to
us. Surely the bullies won’t try to mess with the bull here. No offense Beef.”
“None taken
bro.” the minotaur says dismissively while reading his book.
As the
conversation progresses towards the letter from the Spellguard, another figure
enters the bar. A tall, shapely deva walks in, gracefully, almost if floating.
She has a mystical aura about her, one that makes most men turn around and look
at her. That is, until she stumbles on a loose plank of wood in the floor and
falls face first to the ground. As the laugh bursts, it quickly subdues as a group of bad looking thugs enter the bar.
A
human and a half-orc lead them, followed closely by a goblin and three kenkus. The
goblin stays close to the door, keeping an eye on the barkeep, as the kenkus
spread out through the bar, one pushing the deva aside, knocking her again to the
ground, and the human and half-orc approach Wuobi Wan, one on each side,
putting a hand on his shoulder and shaking him.
“You,
asshole, you got a problem with us?” the human says to Wuobi, threateningly.
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