Snippet #1065

Makor stepped into the tavern already looking at the floor, as a rivulet of blood was flowing out into the street. That's not usually good for buisness.
"Hey, barkeep! For free food and drink I'll get rid of this for you."

The bartender a large man with large muscles and a large beer gut said, "One drink, one plate of food."

"Deal."

He grabbed the body with two hands and, being careful not to get any gore on him, dragged the body out of the tavern and over to a garbage heap that he'd noticed already had one foot sticking out of it.

Such a quaint town.

Walking back into the tavern he immedietly knew who did it. The wound was rather unique and the Elf was dressed in the fashion of those in a land so far west if you whent any further you were in the east were they used a style of weapons refered to as "fire arms" or "guns". Perhaps it was all the gold out there but all sorts of alchemal and mechanical advances had come out of there.

He sat down one chair over from the elf and asked, "So what'd he do to piss you off?"