Post by Arik Dalton on May 20, 2018 13:27:15 GMT -7
| It was clear he might’ve been handsome, if he cleaned up and didn’t smell so strongly of booze. His beard was as unkempt as the hair on his head, and it looked like it had been too many days since he’d last seen a bath. Despite his haggard appearance the man was singing jovially along to the music that was being played and between swigs of beer he was telling a story to the man at the bar next to him, so seemed equally as drunk. At the conclusion of whatever it was they both laughed and clapped their tankards together sloppily, splashing some beer onto the floor between them much to the barkeeps ire. ”You know what they say!” the man said loudly to his companion, ”The best amount of drunk is ‘very’!” The two of them laughed again and the man finished his drink, clunking his tankard onto the bar before standing up from the stool unsteadily and telling his friend he was ‘off for a piss’ and then stumbling around to the back hallway where the latrine was. It was as he was leaving, thankfully for him, that he was stopped. The man cornering him had at least a hundred pounds on him and at least a good foot, and he stumbled backward into the door which swung against his weight and deposited the drunkard soundly on his behind halfway into the bathroom. ”Hello there friend,” he slurred nervously, scooting backward as the man took another step toward him. He had nowhere to run to though, and the man grabbed him by the collar of his shirt and lifted him heavily to his feet as he scrabbled against the hold. ”You owe us some money, friend,” the man replied with a deep growl. If there was ever an enforcer this guy was it, scary and strong and very very serious. Meanwhile Arik was drunk off his ass and the way he was yanked to his feet had done weird things to his equilibrium, and it was as he opened his mouth to reply that instead he projectile vomited right onto the other man’s face and chest. The enforcer dropped him as he took a step back against the spray, wiping at his face with disgust as Arik dropped to the floor and used the opportunity for what it was: to escape. He pushed himself to his feet and lurched past the man in time to miss a swipe at him, and he bulldozed his way out of the tavern only managing to knock over two people and a tray of drinks on the way out. To the outraged cry of the enforcer and the angry shouting of the barkeep and the waiter he’d crashed into, he ran into the nearby woods until he tripped on some roots and fell to the ground right into a bush, where he promptly passed out for the night. It was through a haze of pain and sore muscles that he rolled himself out of the bush in the morning and proceeded to empty the remainder of his stomach onto the grass next to him, and he realized staying here wasn’t safe for him anymore. He didn’t have the money to repay the loan shark and to be honest he probably never would. There were only two ways out of a debt, and that was death or disappearance, and he chose the latter. He stumbled back to the inn he was staying at, thankfully not where he had caused such a ruckus the night before, and packed up his meager belongings. With one more drink for the road he set off to leave Malscure for good. There was nothing left for him here anyway. |