Page 8Mature

    "Aye, the two of you settled down. There be no fighting in here tonight," The large man spoke, giving both men a look. Darius quickly cowered back in his chair, for fear of Gegash's abrupt movements. "If you two are bout to get to blows, get the hell out of my place!" Horian spoke with a seriousness that roused Rowe, from his seemingly near unconscious state. A large finger pointed over to the pair of hired men at the bar, giving them an unstated warning as well.

    "Well then," Sliding back in his chair Darius stood up attempting to calmly fix his vest, though the bristling Gegashs presence was more than he could manage, easily heard in the slight waver in his voice, "I suppose I should call it a night, trip in the morning and all." Hands idly played across the table top, gathering up his winnings of the night. Horian’s arm was doing its best to stay Gegash, who was glowering down at Darius.

    "Friend," Everyone paused at the sound of Rowe’s voice. All three men around the table giving his slouched forward posture attention, "Do not worry about him." Rowe continued, speaking down into the table.

    "I will not be called a..." Gegash's rage started to return, though it was cut short.

    Flopping awkwardly back into his chair, Darius' eyes wildly looked about and then down.  Seeing the length of a wooden bolt, nestled tightly through the leather of his left boot, sticking him to the floor was quite a shock. That realization took a few moments to come to him, and with it came the pain. Grabbing onto his thigh, frantic yelps burst from him. Trying to wrench his foot from where it was pinned, Darius thrashed in his seat. Gegash and Horian, intoxicated and completely befuddled, stared to the shrill Darius, in nothing more but complete confusion. Even the guards at the bar stared, in confusion.

    Standing up quickly, Rowe' threw off the dusty cloak he had worn, a rather small hand crossbow revealed itself in his hand. Settling a grip to the edge of the table with his free hand, he grunted upturning the heavy oak furniture. Ceramic steins and bottles came crashing all around the trapped Darius, whose attention briefly snapped up from his leg just in time to see the table land on his lap heavily.  Splintering under the added weight of the table, the chair broke dropping Darius to the debris ridden floor. Both Horian and Gegash stood as if statues gawking at all of this, Rowe, Darius, the sudden disaster in front of them.  Loosening a coil of rope from his side, Rowe released the small crossbow to drop from his hand, swung idly along his thigh. As the cord fell slack to the floor, held firmly, Rowe yanked off the scarf wrapped about his face.

The End

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