Hackmaster (Hardcore Edition)

Sorrel's Tale

The Tilted Keg was quiet in the sleepy hours before noon. Only a few dedicated drinkers and some overnight guards finishing their shifts were present, some vaguely interested in a small game of cards.

The peace was broken by a slight elf in tattered clothes and bearing freshly bandaged wounds. She waved her one arm dramatically as she entered, “Barkeep! A round for…” The elf checked her coin purse, “me. A round for me. The Blood Hawks haven’t completed a fiscal period recently.” She turned to the man next to her at the bar. “You heard of us? We’ve been clearing out the monster infestation in the environs of this very keep. I suppose the local guards are too busy finding a quiet corner to sleep in, right?” The guard snorted and turned away, tapping the bar for another drink.

The elf seemed unfazed by this rebuff. “I’m Sorrel. You must have heard of me? I say the Blood Hawks have been killing monsters, but it’s more like I’ve been killing monsters, and the rest of the Hawks assist me. I clear the way, and they haul all the profits back home. We’ve been getting a lot of action out there, but now I’m looking for some action back here. What do you think?” She leaned closer to the man’s back, only then realizing she was being ignored. She visibly recoiled, standing and stepping from the bar, downing her shot in a single swig. “They said there were this kind of man in the Human lands, but I didn’t believe them. Fine.”

She walked to a table. “You look like you’re good to go. You want to see the rest of my scars?” The man was taken aback, but seemed willing. They quickly headed upstairs. “It’s been a long time,” Sorrel said as she started to undo her clothes. She noticed that he was doing the same, and frowned. “That won’t be necessary. Just do what I tell you, and everything will be fine.”

Ten Minutes Later

“So, when do I get to-”

“If you can talk, you’re not doing your job. I didn’t kill all those orcs to listen to you talk.”

Five Minutes Later

Sorrel stormed out of the room, awkwardly hiking up and cinching her pants with her one arm, “If you’re going to be childish about it, I don’t see where this is going! Honestly, I save the city, come back home, and you want me to help you?” She angrily walked back down the stairs and to the bar. “I don’t suppose you can tell me where to find some new clothes?” She looked back at her purse, “no, some used clothes? Any clothes? I really need some money.” She looked back up at the bartender, who simply stared blankly. “What is wrong with Humans? Have you never seen an elf before?”

Before the barman thought of anything to say, Sorrel stomped out of the bar, and into the daylight.

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carsonist

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