The Drunken Horseman

The barkeep set a mug down infront of her. "Are you sure you want the strongest? Its awfully mean." He points his pipe to drunk Aaedanian dancing with a broom. "That was just one mug." Before she answered he was already pouring the drink, an amber liquid. He added a red liquid and swirled it round once making a golden drink with strange red swrils within. "Its cherry syrup. if you were wondering." He sat the mug down before her. "I think the crown might have a few bounties. With the military on standby... Lets see..." he reached his hand down behind the bar and produced a rolled up parchment. Unrolling it he read, "A small group of skilled bandits plundered a lightly guarded silver delivery. A murderer killed a man without proper challenge and escaped into the city sewers. Archidons are pissed about that'n and more than willing to pay anyone to take care of that problem." He took a drag from his pipe. "Oh and some strange goings on are supposedly happening at a nearby farm. No details are listed but it seems that the military is too busy to devote a few men to figure it out." He sighed, "They pay 100 silvers head for the first one. 500 silvers for the sneaky murderer. And 100 silvers for the last with a note that means it could award additional pay." He rolled the scroll up and returned it to its place. "I doubt a lass like you 'ould be interested in the sewer hunt." He grinned.

"Well I imagine he looks like a sewer rat by now. They locked down the cities water channels so he can't escape." He poured her a different drink into the same mug, honey mead spiced with juniper berries and mint. "There is an access right outside the tavern if you are really after it."

No sooner than he had finished his sentence than the dancing Aaedanian broke the broom over another patron's head. "Knocked the poor sod out... But his friends..." A couple more drunk Aaedanian's stood and got into a fight with the really drunk one. "Miss, I'll give you 100 silvers credit here at the bar if you throw that lot out."

"No swords, unless they challenge you to a duel. If that happens, feel free to kill'em"

The two who stood to defend their friend backed off, grabbing their friend and taking him out of the tavern. The drunkest one however, proved to be rather rude. "Why don't you come upstairs, we don't get girls like you around these parts often." From being in a drunken brawl to trying to pick her up."

The barkeep spoke to the other patrons of the bar. "Oi! That sounded like a duel challenge to me!" The crowd roared in agreement. "Well looks like you can kill'em if thats your fancy."

The drunk man leapt into the air, suprising agility and reaction speed for one inubriated. But then he fell on his ass.

The bartender yelled, "Throw the poor sod a sword before she cuts off his nutsack!" Someone in the crowd threw a blade to the man who caught it with muscle memory. "I'm taking bets. 5:1 a soldier of Aaedan or the foreign lass!" Bets came rolling in while the drunkard stood up sword in hand.

The drunkard took a wobbley stance sword at the ready, a look of fear in his eyes. A rare sight from an Aaedanian.

He knocked her blade aside with his own, taking a slice along his cheek. He took a couple steps back. He was quickly sobering up, life on the line and all.

"Oh c'mon, man up and fight back. Your 'bout a tadpole ain't ya?" Gabriel was grinning as some more bets rolled in. Most had actually bet on the Aaedanian. The whole nation was sure that the man, even drunk could best a foreigner. The Barkeep knew better. "Get her already!"

The drunk charged and swung diagonaly two times. Both diagnolly, one left to right, the other right to left.

The crowd moaned when the blade hit is mark. Though the arm wasn't removed it was barely hanging on.

"OK! I think he gets the point." To a random patron he speaks next, coming from behind the bar. "Do take him to the infirmary." The patron nods and does as he says getting the defeated man out of the bar. Another bar worker came out and started cleaning the blood up.

Gabriel walked over and grabbed Roxanne's forearm, he whispered, "may I?" As he did so. He held her arm up and announced, "OUR VICTOR IN THE DUEL!" a few people cheered, most just mubled out an angry congratulations. The barkeep released her arm and walked back to his post, "winner collect your silver." 5 out of the roughly 20 people came and collected their win. The rest shot dirty looks at Gabriel who smirked back. He motioned Roxy back to the bar.

"Actually I just took advantage of the situation." He was grinning, victory shining in his eyes. He took a puff off his pipe. "I suppose since you helped me get all that, lovely lovely coin, I'll get a bath ready for you after you get out of the sewer and your own room. Free of course," he said a smile still on his face.

Suddenly, a woman garbed in resplendent forest green-and-bronze armour throws the door open, her pale blue eyes sweeping slowly over the landscape of the bar, her snow white hair mussed and laden with leaves. She walks into the bar hastily, her tattered and faded bronze-hued cloak trailing behind her as she slams the door shut. Her full-ish lips are turned down into a grim expression as she sits down at the bar next to Roxanne, ignoring the woman next to her as she tosses a pouch of gold onto the bar. The two share an uncanny resemblance, minus the old scar trailing from the woman's lower left jawline to the center of her left cheek, and the fleur de lis tattooed beneath her right eye.

"Give me something powerful," she states, in a low, strong, and yet somehow still slightly feminine tone, before attending to her hair, brushing the leaves out with her fingertips and smoothing it over.
"I'd like to celebrate," she continues in a dismal tone, without so much as cracking a smile.