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    "Alcohol, horrible shit" The scarf dropped to the floor with a wet slap, as Rowe wiped his face dry on his shoulder. From the bar, one of the hired men barreled towards Rowe’s position, a rather dark expression on his face. Regardless of how irritating Darius was, he was not going to get paid if was dead, that was for sure. So it would be best to deal with this situation proper.

    Slacking the rope in a loose loop between his hands, Rowe looked down to Darius, who was now nothing more than a head peering out from the upturned table. Shock and terror would best describe the expression on the pinned man’s face.

    "Don't kill me! I have money! Whatever you want! I'm sorry I have nothing but respect for farmers!" Darius begged harshly, the pressure of the table giving him a bit of a struggle to breath, his words gasped out.

    "I am not going to kill you, rat. But I can't speak for Walen. You know him, right?" Rowe shrugged, catching the movement of the advancing man from the corner of his periphery. Lifting a heavy fist up, the bodyguards’ choreography was all too simple, as his weight came crashing in as rather awkward punch.  Snapping his hands up, the ropes slack between Rowe's hands tangled itself into the guards mislead punch, as it sailed over his shoulder. Twisting the cord together, in front of himself Rowe took advantage of the momentum offered by the punch, pulling down harshly. Bracing himself, the wild punch was jerked down, the bodyguards’ elbow promptly settled over Rowe’s shoulder for a brief moment, before succumbing to the violent downward drag with a pop and hideous bend of the joint. The guard squirmed, collapsing off to the right, dumped to the floor heavily, grabbing at his arm.

    "Walen? Look, I will give you his ring! His money! Take them back to him!" Darius pleaded, flashing a panicked look over to the fallen help .

    "That is not how it works, my friend," Rowe shook his head, untangling the rope of its knot around the fallen guards arm. Leaning down, he lifted the table off of the pinned male with a grunt, tossing it to the side. Grasping the wooden bolt, Rowe tore it free with a wet sound from Darius' boot, settling a heavy knee to his chest, gathering up the ropes length.

    "Your friend here, what does he farm?" In Horian’s stupor, arm still held to Gegash's chest, he asked of him from the corner of his mouth.

    "Not sure. Just met him outside," Gegash returned with wide eyes as both men remained stupefied for the time being.

The End

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