Snippet #949437

Kiritanek merely sat in the corner of the inn all day since he had first arrived in the morning. Such was a good way of learning nuances of the common class in such a city. He had learned both much and little from his time there, listening in to many a conversation. The populace seemed much like that of other human cities; stupidity, complexity, lack thereof and felony were all commonplace.

A hulking human, they seemed abundant in drinking establishments such as this one, was sitting at a table nearby and had been staring at the Tui with obvious ill intentions. The newt-like being ignored this unintelligent specimen in order to learn a few more tidbits before finally retiring. Such an event was not to occur, as Kiritanek's gills twitched and he turned his attention to a small quarrel near the bar. It seemed three men, drunk and mentally incompetent, were attempting to oppress a woman of some kind. A popular occurrence, most likely ending in an unfortunate situation for the men. Although abundant, Kiritanek has noticed they have some sort of magnetic attraction to things that can remove them from the Human gene pool. Undoubtedly this woman would be more then the three thugs could handle. Indeed the Tui's theory was proved correct as the woman called the war cry which would make any barman check his insurance; 'Bar Fight!'

With a sigh the experienced Shaman knocked his mostly untouched mug of noxious ale off his table. The stout wooden weapon rolled about, spewing contents over the floor. Kiritanek could only hope it would not dissolve through the wooden flooring before it was useful. Although, as he returned his attention to the now chaotic room, the Tui suspected that such a time would soon arrive. The brute he had espied before was now in the process of clobbering another brute with a chair with great experience. It seemed the to a distanced amphibian that many humans lived their lives to collect teeth with the confines of a tavern.
Eventually, after inflicting numerous bruises and other such inconveniences upon his foe, the man turned his attention to the isolated, seemingly easy target. With a simple sweep of his hand the bubbling ale crystallised into an inviting ice carpet. The bloke, not noticing the frozen defense promptly and comically fell into a rather humiliating position. With another wave the ice crept up the sides of the prone figure, the blue crystal of frozen water vapor against the ugly green of the fermented muck. The Shaman calmly sat back and surveyed the continuing brawl.