Sparrow approached the bar and hailed the bartender. He was a dwarf who had to stand on a stool to see over the counter. "Whaddya want?" He said gruffly. Sparrow thought. "Two pints of strong spiced vanilla tea, if you would be so kind as to leave out the wine for me." "You don't drink? Hmph. There oughta be more people like you 'ere." He had barely finished his sentence when one of the drunk humans picked up an enterprising gnome by the collar and bellowed, "You don't even THINK about raking MY purse, you scoundrelly rascal!!"
The bartender climbed onto the bench and barked, "Oi! You put him down!" The drunkard shouted, "' `Ee was try'in ta steal me gold! We haf rules bout that, ain'ee?" He tossed the halfling easily to another of his comrades. The manhandled gnome's fellows shrieked in anger and the humans laughed at them in reply. The bartender sneezed furiously. "If you're too buggered to notice an urchin like that stealing your prize, then no more ale for you!"
The human spat on the ground and walked out. The comrade holding the gnome dropped him unkindly on the ground and called the bartender something very rude, making his face redden to the colour of wine. Several gnomes squealed with outrage. A human grabbed one and shoved him across the door before taking his leave. As the brutes strutted to the door, jeering, something few through the air with a twang and landed, point blank, in the door about two inches from the mans head. He stayed stock still, eyes wide with shock. His companions turned around and saw Sparrow holding her bow outstretched. She gave a sharp tilt of her head. "Go."
One of the humans seemed to consider something. Suddenly he gave a harsh command and his comrades were midway through drawing weapons when-
THUMP. THUMP. THUMP.
Something enormous was walking down from the upper balcony. Within a moment of delicate silence a huge armored dragonborn walked slowly to a halt beside Sparrow, whose eyes widened then slitted in satisfaction. The humans now looked wary but did not leave. The dragonborn seemed to register this, as he said in a commanding voice, "There is no victory for you here. Go, and you may not lose all of your honor this night." By now every creature in the tavern had the humans' attention and were also staring at them with dislike. Slowly, collectively, they began to back away.
Then suddenly a strangled yell emerged from the balcony, jumped off it and landed point blank atop one of the human's heads. The creature, who in the fray looked to be a midget, was screaming ferociously and was pummeling without hesitation, jumping from one drunk to the next and shouting insults to mid-air. The dragonborn beside Sparrow growled aggressively, roaring, "FINNBAR!! NO!!"
It was too late. Fight broke out instantly.
Sparrow, who was ready to defend the bartender from the advancing human knights, was bowled aside as the bartender himself heaved himself over the counter grasping a pair of handaxes and yelling "Off with all o' you scoundrels wrecking my pub! You lot be damned!" Sparrow was left trying to calm down an old minotaur with consumption who was coughing up a lung and trying to yell battle cries simultaneously, as the group of sturdy dwarves ran behind and started attacking anyone in range with their clubs. Sparrow left to run upwards and onto the roof and was hijacked on the upper balcony by a familiar seeming eladrin who pulled her down just as a whizzing shirikin flew right past where her head had been seconds before. He pointed to her backpack. Sparrow was about to ask him what the hell he was doing when she caught a glimpse of the screaming midget's face below and suddenly realized where she'd seen him before. She gulped.
The band had started to play a merry accordion tune which contrasted amusingly with the nature of the now immense bar-fight. The gnomes yelled furiously and banded together with the merry halflings to form a swamp of small sized fighters wielding handaxes at people's shins. The dragonborn was trying his hardest to break up the fight with no success. The Teiflings in the corner, who now appeared to be warlocks, began to cast a deadly looking spell. The eladrin in front of Sparrow noticed them, and said urgently to Sparrow, "I need my staff back. Now!" She hesitated. "Why-" "Don't ask, just give the staff to me!" She faltered. "Now!" She handed it over reluctantly and the eladrin immediately jumped over the railing, swung down a support pole and reflected the warlock's spells just as they soared towards the center of the fray. A punch collided with her shoulder. Sparrow turned around just as the meaty fist pulled back again, too late for her to block-
The human in front of her buckled as the taloned foot of a dragonborn dealt a scathing blow to the back of his unarmored knees. The dragonborn nodded at her and yelled, "I need to to help me get these ones out." He gestured towards a couple wounded gnomes. Sparrow nodded and he led her through the fray, dodging fists and elbows and clubs as they made their way toward the wounded. The gnomes were weak and grateful to be carried away from further harm. The dragonborn picked up two and Sparrow was left to hold the third. Luckily, they weren't heavy. As they carried the hurt gnomes up to a spare room above the tavern, the dragonborn introduced himself. "I'm Bastian." He said. "My companions are that damned halfling Finnbar, who started this blasted fight in the first place. The eladrin's name is Jukenaar." "And you're travelers?" Sparrow asked. "Adventurers." Bastian replied. "We journey far and wide exploring and ridding lands of evil." "Thats quite a proud phrase for a group of merely three members." Commented Sparrow. "Well," He said, heaving a slipping gnome higher up his shoulder, "We are looking for more people. None of us can shoot or throw shirikins. Finnbar has handaxes, but in his fury he tends to charge in front of us usually. I saw you shoot back there. You have talent." Sparrow half-smiled. "Thanks."
They deposited the gnomes on stretchers they found in the inn rooms. The gnomes mumbled thanks, and the elf and dragonborn made their way downstairs. "I still didn't get your name." Bastian said, grinning. She smiled. "My name is Spar-" She stopped.
"Lucia. Lucia Rivera. I am a sylvan elf from the tribe of Oakenheel, or Meliamne in elfish." She didn't know why she didn't tell him the truth, but she kept her stead. She had a feeling that she recognized the eladrin from a visit to the palace long ago, when she was eight; and she didn't want him recognizing her as the runaway princess. But something about the dragonborn demanded truth but she desisted. Instead, she told him, "I'm centering myself here, in the inn. I'm thinking of adventuring out myself, and if you have want for another to join your party, I will gladly offer my bow to your service." Bastian considered this, a slight smile creeping onto his features.
"I'll have to talk to Jukenaar first." He said. "He still hasn't forgiven you for trying to kill him, you know."
Sparrow, instead of showing guilt, smiled savvily. "You can send my apologies."
Bastian smiled and rejoined the fight.
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