User blog:Cherubic Card/The Beginning Part 3

Silence reverberated throughout the cabin, further amplified by the splattering of fat drops of rain on the roof. My mouth refused to open, but even if it did, I knew nothing would come out. Me? Did she seriously say me? A father, me, of the child on my lap looking down as though she knew this was coming? I was completely dumbfounded, never before had I been in such a state of confusion. Apparently, it was showing on my face, because the lithe but strong figure across from me put up her hands, fingers spread and palms open facing me, and spoke.

"Sorry, sorry, I rushed into that one." Her face bared a jovial, but empty smile. More specifically, it was the kind of smile one would give when they had successfully pranked or tricked their friend, but no other part of her body suggested that feeling. The smile disappeared, replaced by a down-to-business seriousness.

"Relax. I'm sure you're aware, but Louise told me all about your little 'staredown'. In addition to what happened afterward..." The same smile from earlier cracked her stoic mask, and eyes closed, she laughed. "I never thought I'd have the joy of cleaning pee-stained trousers ever since she dried up, oh, you're ten now, six years ago?"

The mass weighing down on my legs tensed and a barely perceptible "Mommy...!" could be heard above the rain. The woman's smile faded once again, this time being replaced with the slightest hint of concern in her eyes.

"...Sorry, that was a bad joke. I, of course, meant the loaf of bread you provided her." The weight on my lap began to speak up, but was quickly silenced. My eyes were no longer on the Lizardman-woman's face, but I was confident she had employed the same chilling gaze she had used to urge her child onto my lap earlier; This time to quiet that same child down.

A sigh escaped from the woman's, what did she call herself... Isadora, that was it, Isadora's slightly exasperated features. The formerly gentle, but somewhat serpent-like gaze that dominated her expression before her world-shattering announcement was now showing off quite the rainbow of emotions. Clawed fingers massaged her forehead in little circles.

"Look, I can tell you're a little overwhelmed by all of this. Like I said, I rushed into it, you can think about it as long as you like-"

"No."

It was small, quiet; Barely perceptible over the unceasing drone of the rain. But everything else was deafened by it. Honestly, I almost wondered if it even came from me, but even if it didn't, some semblance of clear thinking was restored to me by it. Tasting the cigar in my mouth revealed it had burnt out some time ago, though there was plenty of length left. No smoke left my mouth, instead words as clear as my breath fell heavy from my lips.

"Sorry. You really did throw me for a loop, congrats. But the answer's not no, not hell no, but no good goddamn way in heaven or hell, you're insane for asking such a question and expecting anything other than an answer similar to this." A casual smirk graced my disheveled features as I pocketed what remained of my cigar. All but throwing the brat off of my lap allows an unadulterated reach for the ceiling as my muscles stretch and bones tighten into more a more active state. I was gentle with the throw, in case you're wondering. Gentle for me, that is. Looking down onto the forms sitting or picking themselves up off of ancient clothing, I spoke boldly, administering my proclamation for those who were currently below my view.

"Now, you have somehow managed to grace yourselves with my audience, but my patience is at an end. You got here, so I'm certain you know your way... Away from here. I am going to drink myself into such a stupor that I'll forget this whole thing, or dismiss it as some nightmere."

Not waiting for an answer, I marched through the mess towards my kitchen, and stealing a quick glance behind myself for them, keyed open my money drawer, and...

Nothing.

I was completely broke. I had not a single gold coin in reserve, nothing to keep the few that jingled in my coat pocket company. Settling instead for snatching the remaining two loaves of bread from the counter, I crammed them into empty coat pockets as I continued twoard the path outside. I approached the door, where a face I had not seen for a while greeted me. It was the mother, Isadora, but the reason I say I had not seen it for a while was because she wore the same expression she had first greeted me with when I had mistakenly opened the very door I was now trying to leave by. That gentle, yet reptillian gaze bored into mine. She was the one to break the silence.

"Just as I asked a little too hastily, dear, I hope you too will understand the over-haste of your own answer..." The gaze was implacable, but the tone... Did I hear the slightest hint of a threat in her words? Heh. A non-chalant smirk and a dusting-off of my shoulders in her direction preceded my response.

"I wont tell you to go home, but there's no food here, the bathroom's outside, and I'm not bringing back groceries..." My nose crinkled as the next word adopted a mocking tone. "...Dear."

If only I had a cigar burning, I could've blown smoke to even better show how little her threats affected me. Alas, my last friend rested in my pocket, waiting for a better time. When that time came, I'd know. Pulling the door wide allowed the downpour to swallow me whole as I pulled the door shut behind me. Rain pelted all of me as I walked my favorite path towards the bar. Some see the rain as gloomy, and whereas I'm no philosopher, I thought I might have an idea why. With rain all around you, it can feel as though you're cut off from the world, from other people. Perhaps it was that sense of isolation that dislikens people to the rain. That sense of isolation, only having yourself as company, conversing with your own thoughts... Is what I loved about the rain.



The bar stood tall before me, a refuge from the downpour, as well as the worries of the world. And with a overly-sensitive Lizardman seeking to adopt me as a replacement as her husband and her child's father, goddess knew I needed to be numb from drink.

A sigh escaped me. I looked up, the unceasing fall of raindrops focusing my thoughts. One loaf of bread for your child wandering the mountains, and you want to marry the guy? A simple "thank you" would have sufficed. Though I wouldn't have minded if you had provided some strong whiskey either, the stuff so stout it could start a fire. Like those bottles the barman kept on the wall behind the counter... I would've stood lost in my own thoughts forever if not for my own voice interrupting me.

"Are you going to drink or what?"

"Heh." Jerked back to reality, this was normally the part where I'd light a cigar, a single flame raging against the tyranny of the rain. With only one left though, I decided to spare it from fighting the good fight. Lifting a boot up to announce to the barman that the man who needed no introduction was here to do what he did best, I stopped. Water-laden boot resting flat against the door of the establishment, I turned my gaze to a trio of dark figures under the roof of another building. They wore simple black robes, common for people who wandered on rainy days... Which, barring me, was uncommon for Duskwatch, the ancient border town. Well, "ancient" is a bit much. It's been less than a century, though it depends on who you ask.

...Hmm? Duskwatch? That's one of the only things that remain of what this place once was. Anyway, long ago, when the rebel group called "The Order" was actually an empire that encompassed nearly every human settlement, including this one, Duskwatch was, true to its name, a lookout. It stood enclosed by the mountains, a large divit, barely allowing the settlement that now rested inbetween only two paths going north, and south. It wasn't impossible to march over the mountains, as those damn Lizardman-girls did, but getting an army over was different. The first, connecting to the rest of Aarandar, the main continent, led south. My shack lay on that path, but no human being marched the north path, which was what Duskwatch was really for. To the north were ice-capped mountains all year round, and a bitter cold that sapped all strength. It was one of the ever-increasing areas called a "demon realm," supposedly. That was all rumor, but one unchanging fact was that no human had walked the trail north, and no human had ever come back.... Another fun fact was that my shack was the outpost. A lot of the clothes and other crap I slept on was there when I moved in. That's the closest to proof I got of that claim, though. Still more certain than whatever lies on the northern path.

The strain of balancing my increasingly wet leg against the bar door knocked me out of my self-assigned history quiz. Refocusing my gaze where I had seen the trio revealed no trace of their presence... Damn me spacing out like that. Letting my weight carry me forward through the door, I fell heavily on my saturated boot. Small puddles followed my steps toward the counter as I took in the atmosphere. Compared to yesterday, it was much warmer. Torches sat wafting lazily in their sconces, though few as they were they didn't light every nook and cranny. That and it was still quiet, not a soul other than up-do sporting barman stood cleaning a glass with a rag that looked well past its expiration date. Now you see why I drink from the bottle. I pulled out a stool and took a seat near the end of the counter, closest to the door. With the small amount of gold jingling in my pocket, it was maybe a five second dash to the door? Not that I was planning on it coming to a drink and dash, but....

I waived my excess thoughts away with a mental shrug. No need to worry, that's why I'm here after all. I knocked on the counter twice to bring the barman out of his glass-wiping nirvana. To keep him out of it, I threw all of my coins on the counter. It was a small pile, but I knew I'd have to keep it light.

"I need something strong and I need it cheap. What've ya got?"

His short fingers carefully counting and confirming the legitimacy of each coin, he somehow managed to pop open a rough-smelling bottle of some vague orgin. Lifting the bottom up, I quaffed the brutal substance, burning my tongue and throat equally as it went down. Not bad. I slammed the bottle down to signal I would have more, only to be greeted by six bottles of the same questionable nature. My lips curved upwards in my best imitation of a smile.

"You know me."

"Too well, unfor-"

His words trailed off as his eyes focused on something beyond my visage. Turning my head around to see what was so fascinating, I quickly realized what. Three robed figures, identical to the one sizing me up outside stood uncomfortably close to me, one behind, with two on either side of me. With a big bar table in front of me, this meant drinking and dashing was no longer an option. I haven't had to deal with a situation like this since people knew better than to be at the bar while I was. Aside from that, the rain normally keeps people inside, so this was likely going to be a bother.

Picking up another bottle and holding the bottom end high, I turned to greet my company. They were completely covered, even their faces would've been covered by the thick hoods if I hadn't been sitting. Glancing around quickly at the three of them, two were complete randoms, but the one in the middle... He was tall. Taller than me by an inch or two, so he was tall. A green lock of hair seemed to poke out just barely. This guy....

"Hmph. Sorry gentlemen, you'll have to buy your own booze. I don't do parties..."

It was fast. The man on the right of me snatched one of the bottles from my side and brought it down, shards of glass shattering the quiet. My eyes followed his cloaked form as it leaned over the bar table, but I didn't follow the bottle. What the hell did he hit? I twisted my still-seated form and realized what had happened. The bartender's eyes stared forward without seeing as cheap alchohol poured over them, blood following close behind.

I'd seen enough. My right arm swept the rest of the booze off the table as my fist gained momentum for a bone-jarring hit on the first figure's skull, turning his crowd of cloaks into a more managable company. The one on the far left clumsily propelled his arm towards my face for an easy block. My smirk of pride turned into a gag as the green-haired assailant in the middle landed a solid blow on my throat.

"Guh, grk...!" Was all I could say to warn what I was going to do to him as both of my fists clapped his skull, sending him reeling. Jumping off the stool, yeah that's right, I did all that damage while enjoying a squat, the first man, the guy on my right, was up again, this time with another bottle, a full one. That'd-

A solid knock on the side of my head doubled my vision, sonovabitch, the one on the left, I didn't take him out! His fingers wrapped tightly around themselves, creating a wrecking ball of a hammer blow. I reached out to grab his stupid hood, stopped by a cold, stinging pain. The throbbing ache of having a full bottle of cheap booze broken over the right side of my head came after the blood stained my vision.

To call this a bad day was an understatment. Two monsters of all things show up on MY doorstep, they want to kiss me, then three assholes show up at MY bar, and they want to kill me. Needless to say, they should've brought an extra guy.

A bestial roar threatened to tear my jaw and shatter their eardrums as I reached out and wrapped my hands around the felt of their hoods, a more solid grip no one could manage. Rage burning through my veins gave me the strength to bring their skulls together with a sickening, wet "crunch" echoing out from one of them. An evil smile played across my lips before I noticed the green haired man, hood now off, and the heavy chair he scavenged from one of the bar's tables held high above his head.

Or a chair, I admonished myself. An extra guy or a chair. My burnt-out arms weren't fast enough to catch the piece of furniture that left my world in darkness.