58th of Summer, 5 1 4 AV
"You do.. do-n't eveeen know meer mothear, ye're peeetching shyke..." Raien stumbled up, barely catching a nearby chair as he attempted to straighten his lethargic legs, and bring himself to eye level with his antagonizer.
Well, chest level anyway. Could something so large really be a man? A monster maybe. The dazed half-isur couldn't really tell, everything was blurred and swaying. Raien narrowed his eyes.... Did the monster-man have two heads? "Maybe he really is a bea-."
He shook his own head at the thought. The less than slight movement, nearly sending him toppling over to the side once again, the Pitrius clansmen clutched the oaken chair even more tightly. No, no. That would be ridiculous. They didn't let monsters into bars. They didn't do that right? Then again, was there any rule against it? A town law maybe? There had to be...
"All I know short-stuff, is that you come into our bar. Knock a few back, and suddenly you want to tell all of us your life story. As if we give a Hai," the man paused, looking the Bastard Swordsman in front of him up and down, as his lips ground to a halt. Obviously contemplating whether he wanted to say, whatever else it was that was on his mind. Ultimately for better or for worse, he kept talking, alcohol-tainted breath carrying yet more bile over into the wobbling Half-Isur's ears.
"And then, wait for it boys," the drunken oaf said. Gesturing to the chuckling men at the table, his "friends", as he spoke. No doubt, drawing confidence from their presence and growing smiles.
"After coming over to our table uninvited. He thinks he can get all prissy, over me giving my honest thoughts on his bitch of a mother, I said it once, and I'll say it again. She didn't have no right to try and take the lad from his father, whether he wanted to go or not. She's just a woman after all," the man grabbed the ale out from in front of Raien as he spoke. Tipping it into his mouth, spilling half of it into his uncombed beard and onto the floor in one motion. And gulping whatever was left, in the next few ticks that followed. His friends began to laugh viciously and uncontrollably, a few even resorting to pounding on the table to cheer him on. None of them ever noticed the half-breed's squinting eyes or gritting teeth.
Raien slid his hands apart, grabbing and tightening them around both sides of the chair's back. Beginning to turn his head by instinct alone as he did so. An action which should have revealed to him, that there were far too many people for him to fight, at nearly every angle, and every turn. Unfortunately, in his current state, he just couldn't for the life of him remember why he was glancing over the men around him, and not rending the one in front of him in two. Instinct could only get him so far.
Before he really knew what he was doing, Raien was flipping the piece of furniture over his shoulders with both hands ,his biceps tightening, as he willed it to rip straight down through the air, and into the head of the ale-thief.
Raien toppled forward drunkenly along with the chair, as one leg of the oaken seat broke off in his hand with a resounding crack. And only barely caught himself on, and pushed off of, his target's chest as the man fell over on to the floor, drawing an even louder plop from the wood planks.
"My Ale... And my mother, n-n-ot in tha-t order," Raien said in the direction of the floored brute, swaying from side to side as he spoke, chair leg still clutched tightly in hand. All the while he only barely picked up on the sounds of skirting steel at his side.
"You do.. do-n't eveeen know meer mothear, ye're peeetching shyke..." Raien stumbled up, barely catching a nearby chair as he attempted to straighten his lethargic legs, and bring himself to eye level with his antagonizer.
Well, chest level anyway. Could something so large really be a man? A monster maybe. The dazed half-isur couldn't really tell, everything was blurred and swaying. Raien narrowed his eyes.... Did the monster-man have two heads? "Maybe he really is a bea-."
He shook his own head at the thought. The less than slight movement, nearly sending him toppling over to the side once again, the Pitrius clansmen clutched the oaken chair even more tightly. No, no. That would be ridiculous. They didn't let monsters into bars. They didn't do that right? Then again, was there any rule against it? A town law maybe? There had to be...
"All I know short-stuff, is that you come into our bar. Knock a few back, and suddenly you want to tell all of us your life story. As if we give a Hai," the man paused, looking the Bastard Swordsman in front of him up and down, as his lips ground to a halt. Obviously contemplating whether he wanted to say, whatever else it was that was on his mind. Ultimately for better or for worse, he kept talking, alcohol-tainted breath carrying yet more bile over into the wobbling Half-Isur's ears.
"And then, wait for it boys," the drunken oaf said. Gesturing to the chuckling men at the table, his "friends", as he spoke. No doubt, drawing confidence from their presence and growing smiles.
"After coming over to our table uninvited. He thinks he can get all prissy, over me giving my honest thoughts on his bitch of a mother, I said it once, and I'll say it again. She didn't have no right to try and take the lad from his father, whether he wanted to go or not. She's just a woman after all," the man grabbed the ale out from in front of Raien as he spoke. Tipping it into his mouth, spilling half of it into his uncombed beard and onto the floor in one motion. And gulping whatever was left, in the next few ticks that followed. His friends began to laugh viciously and uncontrollably, a few even resorting to pounding on the table to cheer him on. None of them ever noticed the half-breed's squinting eyes or gritting teeth.
Raien slid his hands apart, grabbing and tightening them around both sides of the chair's back. Beginning to turn his head by instinct alone as he did so. An action which should have revealed to him, that there were far too many people for him to fight, at nearly every angle, and every turn. Unfortunately, in his current state, he just couldn't for the life of him remember why he was glancing over the men around him, and not rending the one in front of him in two. Instinct could only get him so far.
Before he really knew what he was doing, Raien was flipping the piece of furniture over his shoulders with both hands ,his biceps tightening, as he willed it to rip straight down through the air, and into the head of the ale-thief.
Raien toppled forward drunkenly along with the chair, as one leg of the oaken seat broke off in his hand with a resounding crack. And only barely caught himself on, and pushed off of, his target's chest as the man fell over on to the floor, drawing an even louder plop from the wood planks.
"My Ale... And my mother, n-n-ot in tha-t order," Raien said in the direction of the floored brute, swaying from side to side as he spoke, chair leg still clutched tightly in hand. All the while he only barely picked up on the sounds of skirting steel at his side.
