Happiness at the Bottom of the Mug (Kreig)

[Horlamin]

<5th day of Summer, 512 AV> Leth was barely peeking over the water, but the night life of Sunberth was already bursting. And Horlamin was seated in the middle of it. The Drunken Fish was filled to the brim with sailors, dock workers, and other foreigners are seeking to drink after a hard day's work. Hor sat away from the sailors, at a table against the wall closest to the door. It allowed him to watch everyone else; something he enjoyed to do every know and again. But at the moment, Hor was bored. Even people watching was no fun because like every night before, the same people were doing the same thing. Father Manowar was still drunk and still walking around talking to others. Captain Dullos still sat at the bar, glancing back at regular intervals at the sign up sheets as if anyone in this bar besides Hor wasn't already hired by a captain. Even the slave girls bored Hor after he learned they were not interested in a fun time. Horlamin sat with his feet propped up in the only other chair at the table he was at. He doubted anyone would sit here even though the bar was already filled to the brim; he was too far away from the bar for many men's taste. A slave girl walked by and handed him the mug of ale he ordered, but he merely took a sip and sat it down on the table. The liquid ran down his throat, a relaxing sensation. But even that didn't bring Hor out of his stupor. He just sought something different. So he waited, and hoped something interesting would walk through that door.

[Kreig Messer]

'Tired.....So damn tired' Such a poor soul, the day could not leave his mind 'Why did it had to happen, WHY WAS HE EVEN THERE?!' Such a sin, even if it was accidental. A simple that began with training had turned into a battle to the death and ended with murder. Yes the assailant, but that was not why Kreig was lamenting as he sat upon a stool, smelling as bad the sailors who attended the tavern. Luckily his attitude wasn't as rowdy as them "Why...Why was that child there? Why did that idiotic man bring him....." Then he began to to look at his Gauntlet, his cherished belongings had tasted the blood of an innocent child 'Why did I end up killing him" His eyes were tired, he hadn't slept in days, After he technically stepped back in reality, he had wandered to a healer to patch his leg. A cloth could be seen through the hole of his pants, where he was stabbed by the child "Sure he stabbed me, but...but I didn't mean to hit him" He murmured, a tankard of ale in his hands, barely even drunked from even if the stench lingered around his mouth.


It had been a depressing thing, it was all he did the past few days. He had not bathed in while, he hadn't even slept as said before. Rings around the eyes could be seen plain as day, if he did not had the mizas the Tavern would have thrown him out, even if he just sat there for the majority of the time.It was an odd thing really, even in such a heartless town, there still existed those who had heart. Sunberth was a town of Survival though....and those who didn't have the will to lock their hearts, rarely survived. Right now Kreig was stuck in a sort of battle, his soul was dying because of the heavy guilt that plagued him. If days were to pass him right now he could very well recover....or fall even farter into this depressive state Time heals all wounds is what they say, but that is but a half truth, which also makes it a bit of a lie. If time alone could heal such a wound then all the wounds in Sunberth would have disappeared long ago....

[Horlamin]

Alas no one walked through the door to the Drunken Fish that evening, leaving Hor to the usual patrons. It wasn't like those already here were boring. It was just that eventually, after seeing the same people for several days straight bored him. He wanted something different. And he found it when he noticed a man seated at the bar who had slipped his observation earlier. Hor hadn't seen this man before. That meant he either frequented this bar at times when Hor was out working or he was a new patron. Neither choice really mattered. This guy was new to Hor and he would ease his boredom somehow. What actually happened, the fighter was unsure of. All he knew was to stand and walk over. Mug of cold ale in hand, Hor weaved his way through the crowded tavern towards the man. Sailors were all around, the smell of fish, alcohol, and sweat all wrapped up in one gruesome odor radiating off of them. And being close together not only made the smell worse; it made it difficult for Hor, who was no small man, to walk without bumping into others. Not that Hor tried to be respectable. No, he pushed through the crowd, oblivious to the slurred curses behind him. This man had caught his attention and nothing these sailors threw at him, short of blows, would stop him. But Hor wasn't unprepared for this stranger either. Seating himself at a recently vacated stool to the left, Hor could clearly smell the alcohol on this man; he was just as bad as Father Manowar! Growing up in Sunberth, Hor learned that he needed to learn everything he can about his surroundings. So he observed this man, who stared at his near full tankard. Hor noticed that the man had a cloth wrapped around his leg, visible in the hole in Kreig's leg. Whoever he was, he had been injured by something. It could've been from a simple accident at a blacksmith shop or a stab wound; Hor couldn't tell. Whatever this man did, it had made him tired; the rings around his eyes gave this away. And on his hand was a gauntlet. Hor could tell it had been used before. This man was a fighter like him. But other than that, Hor didn't know anything about this man. He didn't know his name, not where he was from, or anything else. And he wouldn't just by staring at him. Oh, he could easily tell how well this man could fight without muttering a word. But Hor hadn't come over here for a fight. And he didn't come over here expecting this man to just talk to him. No, he needed to start the conversation. But what to say? Asking his name would be too simple. He needed something interesting. Something that would stand out in this man's mind better than a simple greeting. But this was hard; he was a fighter, not a speaker. He was suppose to know how to fight, not to socialize in a bar. But he couldn't just sit here either. FInally Hor just muttered the first thing that came to mind and hoped it did more good than harm. "Nice gauntlet."

[Kreig Messer]

Kreig was still staring a his drink when the man approached him and said 'Nice Guantlet' But to kreig it no longer felt nice, it felt tainted, unpure. The worn out thing that was part of a pair, the one thing that reminded him of his father now reminded him of his sin. His tired eyes looked at the man before him, he recognized him as fighter like himself, Albeit it looked like sword and shield rather than fists....Then again, to use a sword and shield is to use your hands 'Simple enough' Kreig thought, he was taller than kreig, but not that much. Blond hair and blue eyes, a cliche thing to find but it hey, you can't choose what your born with.

"Thanks I suppose" Kreig responded, wondering why this man had approached him in the first place, if it were Kreig in his shoes than he'd assume he was talking to him out of curiosity or boredom, perhaps both. he didn't feel like talking... rather he preferred to be left alone "So what is it you wish dear gent? I'm afraid I am hardly pleasant company in my current state"

[Horlamin]

As the drunken man looked up at him with tired eyes, did Hor actually expect a better reaction with his conversation starter? Nice gauntlet was not a phrase used often in the greeting game, especially at the bar. "Would you like a mug of ale?" or "You're in my seat" was a more common way to speak to others in this establishment. Yet, Hor started a conversation with a statement that compared to others like "we're wearing the same shirt" or "I think our ears are similar in shape." Basically, Hor sucked at talking to others. Sitting there, Hor felt like he was being sized up by this man. A normal procedure for fighters like Hor and this man; you didn't want to know little about others if they became an opponent in a fight. This fighter wasn't sure what he wanted to do yet with this man. A fight sounded interesting, but then again Hor might just want to drink with this fellow. He didn't know yet, so for now he sat and listened. He didn't have to listen long, though, as Kreig put him on the spot early by asking him what he wanted of him. Hor still had no clue what he was going to do this night, so he paused to take a sip of his ale. Setting the mug down, he looked back at Kreig, grin on his face. "I beg to differ wit' ya. When drunk, any man can become pleasent company. You'd be up for a good brawl, a drinking contest, maybe even a double team with one of those slave girls." Hor chuckled, a low rumble to Kreig. Hor had realized that this man could do just about anything with him and it would be interesting. That put Hor in a good mood, knowing that he had options for what he was going to do this evening. And it made him want to joke around with Kreig. So he went further with his listing. And he spoke the last words the drunken man wanted. "Hell, we could go out and kill someone."