Snippet #2062484

In a drinking establishment, in a small village located towards the centre of the nation of Shaharan


The hour was late but that didn't stop Kisho. Sat alone at a table with maybe a dozen empty beer glasses, as well as one glass full just past halfway. Probably closer to two thirds full, in fact. Kisho had only wandered into this place an hour ago by chance, having received a fairly large sum for taking the head of a petty thief, he had decided to find the nearest place and drink. While he still wore his darkened, heavy armour, which was battered with dents thanks to a busy period as a mercenary, his helmet was sat almost perfectly in the centre of his small, round table, his long red hair flowing freely.

The owner of this establishment was looking to close up soon, he had made enough takings for the day, he was tired, and was waiting for Kisho to finish his last drink. Whether deliberately acting with some malice, the copper-blonde haired mercenary had decided to socialise with the few other people who had stayed on this late. Sweeping his hair behind his head and tucking it behind his ears, he began talking in a loud and drunken manner to an intimidated looking young man, who the bartender could swear was too young to be drinking. Beads of sweat ran down the young man's face until Kisho finally clasped him on the back and went to finish his drink.

On the other side of the bar, sat a woman, very much concealed by her location. She wore a fine silk dress, though torn in many places, she still wore it with a manner of elegance. Her silver hair was neatly tied behind her head, her young looking face studying Kisho intently. Kisho had run out of money but was still thirsty, and had decided to gamble his sword in an arm wrestling competition with the owner of the establishment. Should he win, he would get a drink, should he lose, his weapon of choice would belong to the bartender. On one side of the bar, the bartender lay his arm. The young looking man, bald on his crown, with brown hair elsewhere, rolled the sleeve of his brown overall up as Kisho detached the arm from his plate.

Kisho had won the wrestle, and in the eyes of this lady had earned her respect as a potential suitor. The slender, silver haired temptress hung back for a moment, eyeing Kisho's tattoos. From where she was sat, they appeared to be words, however even when squinting her emerald green eyes, she was unable to make out what it said. Kisho re attached his arm piece and drank his last beer, a sparkle in his blue eyes, and a wry grin on his face. This was one of the few times Kisho actually seemed content. It didn't last, however, as the silver haired woman moved over to Kisho.

"Well hey there" the woman started. "That was quite a display you put up in that ar...." she was interrupted by Kisho.
The mercenary spat a blunt and short message "I'm afraid I've no business with your kind, wench!" before leaving hastily.

As he re fitted his full face helmet, the spines which represented teeth made him look more demon than man, and he stormed out of the building, knocking somebody over in his path. Usually, Kisho had the decency to stop and apologize for such faux pas, but this time, he was motivated by fear. He was uneasy around women as it stood, but this one had a particularly sinister look about her.