Snippet #1510475

Duran was having a difficult time stomaching exactly what was going on in the bar. He had never really been one for liquor, but he felt as though he was becoming drunk just from the smell of the place. He thought it was foolish to be making such regrettable decision as getting drunk the night after conquering a town, and having a hangover on the next day's battle. He had little doubt that if dragons were going to turn this city into a molten crater of charcoal and glass, now would be as good a time as any. It was the only thing he could think about besides Goma being missing. It weighed on his mind like the ladies were weighing on the table. He chuckled at the thought, but decided to keep that to himself. He didn't have the best social etiquette in the land, but there was little doubt that telling a drunk woman the next best thing to, "You're fat," was probably a horrible idea, especially when said women each carried deadly weapons.

He noticed Caine was in the bar as well, enjoying a drinking game with a half-orc. He was a little surprised at this. He had always thought that he and Caine were something of kindred spirits. Preference to solitude seemed to be one of the only things they had in common, although there were probably sides of him that had yet to be seen, and Duran supposed that this was one of them.

Then there was that Lamia Cleric. He was good enough to have around on the battlefield, but he wasn't high in the moral fiber department, it seemed. No less than four women were around him, his arms wrapped around two of them, while one ran their fingers through his thick hair, and yet another played with the tip of his tail suggestively. He was lucky he was a cleric; Anybody without the ability to heal would probably have been crippled by now from a few dozen venereal diseases.

The twin artificers were swooning over the ranger. Duran had a distinct feeling that they had something of a crush for the elf when they named one of their constructs the "Liliana MK-II." It would be a shame to find out that one of the brothers had strangled the other in their sleep over an above average looking elf. Though who could say they wouldn't do that?

"S-so what're you l-like a wild mans ors something?" Duran turned his head at the slurred question, asked by a less than cogent human male. "I ssaw you go all rwawr mearlier. I wass like "Wowsh, I's wishes I could bite peoples like you does, you know guy? You know?

"Uh...Yea." It was all Duran could really muster at the man. He preferred to be polite, but the man's breath was some disgusting combination of ale and any large amount of the "Weekly Special," which was probably just the meat that had recently gone bad.

"YEA? I-I KN-NOW! Cam yous teach me to be an bear? I'd do amythink."

Duran slowly began to back-peddle to get the man out of his face. He definitely didn't like the inflection he put into his slurred words. He was expecting some attention from drunk soldiers, but this was definitely not expected.

"Aremchu listemin'? Ankytheme." Duran raised one of his eyebrows inquisitively. Through some drunk paradox, he entirely understood the man despite his increasingly unintelligible words.

"Yea, listen, I don't want you to get the wrong idea. I don't know what you think I'm interested in, but it's definitely not you." Duran was trying to speak seriously, though the speed of his words probably wouldn't catch up with the drunk man right away.

"No, you'll libsen. I ain't gonna lepchu just walk aways, you know? You gotta gitta know me! You so absome, you know? I wants you, you know?" The soldier's hand began to get uncomfortably close to Duran's leg, as a finger crept up towards his crotch. Duran's face contorted in a strange combination of surprise and shock, as he instinctively balled up his fist and sucker punched the man. A loud thud was the only indication that he hit the floor, and Duran was not inclined to look down with a great deal of sympathy for him. It seemed as though he was out before he hit the ground, and it was probably a good thing, too. Duran bent down, and patted the man on the face.

"I think you've had about enough."

Duran got more than a few stares at his reaction, and he began to wonder if knocking the man out was the right thing to do. It wasn't as though he meant to, but it was difficult to be compassionate when a man tries to sneak his hand in places it definitely didn't belong.