Bruised, Battered and in a Bad Bad Mood

One word. Ouch.

I lay on the floor beside a heap of unconscious men, feeling as if I'd been run over by a herd of angry wild horses. Incredibly fat angry wild horses. I couldn't think of one part of me that hadn't been kicked, punched, bitten, slapped or mauled during the fight, and at that moment life seemed pretty abysmal. Larn came to my side, pulling me out and away from the rest of the motionless bodies.

"Are you alright?" he asked.

"Peachy." I replied thickly, a large bruise on the side of my jaw hampering my ability to talk normally. Of course I wasn't alright! How many men did he know that had the life beaten out of them by drunkards that come out of it without a scratch?

Larn shook his head and looked down at me, lying in a crumpled heap at his feet. "Sorry." he said. "I should have stayed with you."

Pity he didn't think of that before. I huffed and tried to get to my feet, almost toppling sideways into Larn's lap in the process. Thankfully the man's reactions were quicker than his thought processes and he managed to grab me around the midriff before I hit the floor again. Sarin looked over from across the room, looking as if she would like to laugh, but didn't really deem the situation appropriate.

"What now?" I asked Larn, rubbing my arm where Pig Face had stood on it.

"I think we'd best be moving off." said Larn. "We don't want to draw attention to ourselves, and I don't think we could stay inconspicuous for long with this lot lying outside our door."

Great. That meant I'd not only have to put up with being bruised beyond all recognition, I'd have to kill my feet today as well. Still, I wasn't particularly keen on staying here and getting caught in the limelight either. Not to mention the stench coming from the room seemed to be getting stronger with every passing second.

"Right then." I said, lurching untidily onto my own two feet. "Let's get this show on the road."

Larn shook his head at me and moved off to help Elorie and Sarin collect the rest of the gear. Jared was still standing in the doorway, looking at me strangely. I raised an eyebrow at him, what did the smarmy little creep want now? It was his stupidity that had lead to this mess, so I owed my newly acquired bruises to him. Not the sort of gratefulness I had expected when I'd stepped in to save his skinny neck down in the bar. I made a mental note to throw him in the nearest river at the first chance I got.

Soon we were back on the road. Larn and Sarin carried most of our gear between them - not that we had much, just a few cooking utensils and a hunting knife - while Elorie suppored the limping Jared at the back. But did anyone spare a thought for me? Not on your nellie. Despite my own pain I ended up plodding along at the back of the pack, thinking angry thoughts as my bruises began to swell up.

I swapped being able to walk through walls for this?

The End

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