"Fight" - Sulpher Dracon


Last sip of ale taken, she slams the mug on the table. A quick brush of 
the sleeve at her muzzle removes the flecks of foam. The noise of life 
fills the air. Laughing, shouting, whispering... Sitting back, Sulpher 
surveys the dusty tavern. The dwarves are restless. Hunched around a table 
in the back corner, darkness shades their conversation. Not the darkness of 
the corner, but their faces. They are up to something. Twitching her ears in 
their direction, she hears their words. "He is comeing, should be here soon." 
one says, his brow furrowed. "What will we do?" another asks. "There is nothing 
we can do" the one with the furrowed brow remarks. "He will have many with him." 
Whats this all about, Sulpher thinks to herself. A quick glance at the room. 
Bartender cleaning the glasses. Rowdy orcs having an arm restling contest. A lone 
minotaur sitting at the table by the door. Also listening in on the dwarven 
converstation. Interesting. A few of the local peasants dotted around the room. 
A shadow, thin and dark crosses the room. It starts at the hinged doors to the 
bar, slinks across the dirt trodden floor and comes to rest against the wall at 
the back. Interest is cast towards the doors. Open they swing, the mouths gape. 

The first thought is royalty, followed quickly by power. He stands tall, only 
just below the length of a 'taur. The white hair flows in waves over the forehead, 
stopped only by a constant hand that swings them to the back. His face, one which 
Sulpher will never forget. Proud, stern...... spoiled. Sulpher looks him up and 
down. In his twenties, she thinks. "My name is Elrike!" he shouts at the room. 
The orcs go back to their arm wrestling, the peasants return to their gossip. 
Nobody around here cares much for royalty. Now that everyone has had a good look, 
the show is over. Sulpher knew it wasn't. When Elrike came in, everyone turned 
and stared. Except the dwarves. Them, and the 'taur. Elrike casts his eyes across 
the room, searching for something or someone. His gaze stops at the dwarves. Here 
we go.... Sulpher puts a trained hand on her sword, the clasp over the handle 
never closed. "You, dwarves!" He starts to move towards them. Two more guards 
enter the tavern, and step in behind Elrike. The dwarves pay no heed. 

"Are you not the dwarves that refused to pay the levy on your goods upon entering 
this fair town?" No movement, cept for the 'taur who leans over and rests his elbows 
on the table. Armor chinks as the guards move across the room, pushing peasants 
aside. Sulpher notice the dwarves exchanging glances. Who is going to act first..she 
thinks, and to her the world suddenly seems to slow down. Flash of light, dagger hits 
it's mark. The first guard doubles over, the second now confused. Elrike starts to turn 
around, the 'taur slowly rises from his seat. The orcs picked up on the tense 
atmosphere. Another flash of light, and the sound of a dagger hitting home. The second 
guard spins around, Sulpher barely catching a glimps of the shiny dagger lodged into 
the guards left eye. "Guards!" Elrike shouts to the outside, the 'taur now in full s
wing and heading towards the door. With a quick and remarkably agile hand, Elrike is 
knocked to the ground by the 'taur. Swinging around, the 'taur stands before the 
doors to the tavern. 

Shouts from outside cause the tenseness to rise, the dwarves looking in surprise at 
the 'taur who had knocked down their enemy. With small shouts and cheers, they run 
towards the doors. A stunned Elrike suddenly jumps to his feet, sword in hand. Never 
had a chance, and he died quick. The first dwarf had run straight into Elrike's sword, 
his face one of horror and pain.Only a sneer of satisfaction on the face of Elrike. 
Sulpher suddenly gives off a loud growl, jumps onto the table and lunges at Elrike. Her 
aim was true, and she sent Elrike stumbling across the floor tripping over chairs and 
tables. A quick exchange of glances between the 'taur, dwarves and her confirm sides. 
A group of guards burst through the doors, sending them flying off their hinges. One of 
the small doors hits an orc in the face. Sulpher whips out her sword, posed to fight. 
The 'taur had moved off to the side to let the rushing guards in. Already lined alongside 
each other, the dwarves ready themselves with short swords and daggers.