A Fun Time In The Citadel

[Ioder]

Redford

“Excuse me, “ Ioder rasped leaning into the freshly soiled bar. Behind stood a lusty bar maiden tending to numerous patrons in the packed tavern. The smell of mead and whisky taunted Ioder’s pallet, challenging him to get distracted. But what the hell, this was citadel fight after all. Still he knew that an any moment his opponent would reveal themselves from the sea faces.

“Down here lassie.” He said offering his most suave expressing possible.

It didn’t take long before the maiden was stricken with Ioder’s superior good looks and charm. She finished pouring four tall mugs overflowing with mead to the rough and tough mercenary a few stools from Ioder. His fingers began to dance on the bar impatiently as he watched the lusty bar keep offer the four men a toast and join in on a swig of mead. But to his satisfaction she was right over before the mercs could even lift a mug from their mouths.

“What can I pour ya?” she said in a luscious sultry tone. “Whiskey, rum, brew?”

“Whiskey, dry…” Ioder said waving his finger and smiling a devilish grin. She pivoted and as if magic a glass appeared in front of him, and then she was off to the next guy. A wave of embarrassment overcame him thinking she was even slightly interested. She was only concerned with the amount of coin she can make.

Ioder took a long look at the drink in front of him before swiftly lifting it to his lips and shooting it back. It burned from his lips all the way down to his gut. After letting out a boastful grunt he slammed the glass down shattering it into pieces. He turned to face the crowd behind him and began scanning the room.

There was a large pig roasting of a central fire pit of the room. Along either side of this rectangular furnace were many tables all packed full with loud drunk men. There was very little room to walk before having to sift one’s way through a mass of people. Whoever Ioder’s opponent was, it would be hard to point them out.

[redford]

John ducked under a crossbeam, able to stand (barely) in the tavern-like arena for this next battle. He almost missed the way normal folk would stop and gape at the metal-clad half-giant standing in the room. He dismissed the thought as a nuisance, choosing instead to scan the crowd, many standing around a spit located at the far end, even more seated at different tables scattered throughout.

There was one, though. It was interesting, John thought as he noticed the man. Maybe it was the way his hand tilted up to sip his whisky. Maybe it was his clothing. Regardless of what it was though, one thing was clear.

He didn't belong.

Having found his opponent, John thought it prudent to wait until he'd put his glass down.

Would've been a waste of good whisky.

He took two large steps toward the lad, balling his fist in his opponent's shirt, using his grip to hurl him through the window at the other end of the bar. Glass crashed, and he landed somewhere beyond, likely preparing a proper retort. The manufactured people in the Citadel's arena scattered, yelling and running like roaches from the light. He spoke over his shoulder at the barmaid.

"Whisky, straight."

As the glass appeared on the bar as if by magic, he reached behind him and took a sip of the stuff, waiting on his opponent to return.

[Ioder]

Before long a brute of a man approached the wizard Ioder, a look of determination in his eyes set him apart from the crowd. And as soon as Ioder was about to open his mouth and introduce himself the giant clenched his jacket tight. As if Ioder weighed lighter than air he was quickly ejected through the nearest window. Rolling on the simulated ground outside the large tavern Ioder cursed his polite nature.

“You Hog…” Ioder hissed through clenched teeth. He pulled himself to his feet determining how to respond the the brute of a man. He was big to say the least and intimidating to boot. While he considered his course of action he noticed a large tear in his favorite orange cloak. “Oh hell no!”

Lifting one hand towards the broken window Ioder concentrated his mana into his palm. Appearing as a light blue hue Ioder sent forth his magic like a slithering snake weaving its way inside. As his ethereal snare reached the bar it leap onto the magical bar maid. It tightened itself around her waist as she began to scream and panic. His magic lifted her into the air and began to pulled and tear at her core.

“Aaarrrrrhhhh.” he screamed as his magic tore the woman in half. Her blood spewed everywhere covering the brute entirely and painting the bar crimson. As the thralls of the arena filled the streets with panic Ioder was sure that his message got across to the giant man. As if to prepare himself for whatever his opponent could throw at him Ioder lifted himself off the ground seamlessly. He levitated himself up about fifteen feet into the air while simultaneously conjuring a greyish mist to cover himself.

“Get out here!” he challenged the man. “Let play a while.”

[redford]

Before he could take a second dip of the whiskey amid the havoc of the tavern, the woman beside him gave a squeal of terror as her not-quite-real form was ripped apart, painting the bar crimson, and most of John's clothes as well. He looked down at his whiskey and saw that it was already muddied by blood, and let the glass drop to the floor, now the only sound in what was once a cacophony.

The rest of the bar's patrons had disappeared, fleeing into the night. He briefly spared a thought, as he was wont to do in the citadel, if they had homes, or if they all faded into nothingness as they ran. Either way, his musings would do him no good here. As his opponent called out to him, doubtlessly quite perturbed at the interruption, John smiled, wiping the almost-blood from his face.

This would be fun.

He strode toward the window, raising a massive foot and kicking the beams holding the bottom of the windowsill up. A crash followed, and the wood splintered, allowing him to duck through the opening and look up at his opponent. Armor flowed like mercury up his body, coating his flesh with little clicks as they hardened. He spoke simply.

"Well?"