Sarah's Story Chapter 013 - Bar

The inn had been a really nice place in a quiet neighborhood.

The bar was a dingy, dimly lit, buzzing hive of degeneracy and odd, strong smells in a neighborhood Sarah couldn’t believe existed in real life.

It spoke to her soul, nay, sang.

She followed her mother inside, immediately noticing the floor, sticky in some places, slippery in others, made of hardwood with odd bumps and dips in places. Several men of all different builds were sprawled, passed out, some of them pushed against the wall out of the way. A multitude of tables packed the large open room, with a variety of dangerous looking people standing about them with tankards of ale and bottles of other liquors decorating the dirty table tops. There were windows lining two of the walls: the wall along the street they’d entered, and on the opposite wall.

Towards the back there was a bar, with barstools, and a bartender, and what a a bartender he was. Nearly seven feet tall, with a totally bald head, and bulging with muscle behind a token apron. He had to be flexing on purpose as he polished a glass, surprisingly clean in the otherwise filthy bar. Sarah accidentally made eye contact with him and gulped, but he continued his constant scan of the bar as a nearby drunk kept talking at him.

Sarah’s mother had continued in without pausing, and Sarah hastened to catch up to her, not wanting to get separated in a place with so much potential violence. She was, after all, less than a week on from her choosing day.

The bar was full, but there were a couple tables with open spots. Sarah breathed a sigh of relief when her mother squeezed them in at a table with a young man with coiffed brown hair and an older woman with golden blond hair. The older woman glowered at them, but the young man didn’t seem to notice their approach: he was more focused on harassing the bar maid.

“Ahem.”

In an odd tone that Sarah had never heard from her mother, she simply cleared her throat.

And suddenly the bar was quiet. Except for the young man, who was continuing to pester the bar maid, until the angry looking woman clapped a hand on his shoulder.

“Come on, a lovely thing like you doesn’t need to work in a place like this! Come up to my room and I can–” he stopped and looked back at the woman, about to berate her for interrupting him, when he noticed Helen and Sarah had joined their table.

Before he could react, Helen spoke to the barmaid. “Two of your best ales, fast as you can, dear.”

“R-right away!” the girl squeaked and dashed off, glad to get away from the overbearing young man.

He was dressed quite a bit more nicely than anyone else in the bar, and carried a sword on his hip. He would have looked quite dashing, but the expressions he kept making ruined it. Now he turned his gaze to Sarah, who, unluckily, was between him and her mother.

“Well well well now! And what brings a fair young maiden like yourself to a wretched place like this? Perhaps…” he kept prattling on, but Sarah found herself distracted. The noise of various conversations had returned to the bar, but subdued, and with an odd tension.

Several of the patrons had started to scurry out, hastily leaving small stacks of coins on their tables.

Brawler Class Skill [Danger Sense] has reached level 5.

Sarah noticed the tension was getting to her too, though she couldn’t quite tell why.

The swordsman continued talking, more interested in the sound of his own voice than Sarah’s reaction.

The bartender had poured their ales, but didn’t hand them to the bar maid. First, he had her dash around the room collecting money. Sarah found herself impressed, the bar maid could move if she put her mind to it. In a flash all the money had been collected, even as more of the patrons left, and then she was on her way back to their table with their ales.

“Ale?” a harsh voice asked, reminding her the man was talking at her. She felt a little bad to be ignoring him, until he kept talking and soured her mood with his vulgarity. “A pretty young thing like you shouldn’t be drinking that piss water, nay, come with me back to my room at the inn, I have a wide selection of the finest wines from all over the kingdom…”

Sarah raised her eyebrows and gave him a look as she sipped at her ale. It was… actually really tasty! A fair bit better than the ale they’d had at the inn last night. Sarah found herself gulping down the ale and all too soon, her tankard was empty.

“Hahh…” she sighed, satisfied.

Brawler Class Skill [Discerning Taste] has been acquired.

She heard a thunk, and saw that her mother had also finished her own ale. Sarah’s eyes flicked from her mother’s left hand, still holding the tankard, to her mother’s face, with a shockingly wild look in her eyes and a smile aimed at the other woman at the table, and then down to her mother’s other hand, which was holding an empty glass bottle.

Brawler Class Skill [Threat Awareness] has reached level 4.

Sarah’s pulse quickened, and she hastened to assess the other woman. She had one hand wrapped around her own empty bottle on the table, and the other hand was hidden under the table.

“Hey! I’m talking to you, wench!”

Sarah turned her head back to the pompous swordsman and barely had time to register the anger on his face, twisting his features into a hideous mask, as his right hand grabbed her left arm just below her elbow.

Sarah reacted on Brawler-enhanced instinct.

She twisted, pulling the swordsman further off balance and bringing her right arm around over the table, clearing the tankards. She snagged his belt and heaved, throwing him onto a nearby table.

Brawler Class Skill [Grappling] has been acquired.

Crash!

He slid over the table before it fell over, but he was back on his feet in the blink of an eye.

“You bitch! You’ll pay for this!” The man’s hand wrapped around the hilt of his sword and all hell broke loose.