[M] The Hammer and Anvil: Great Destroyer Destroyed!

[Tolvo]

1 AD, June 30th

In the midst of the town of a fort to the west of Giu Sotto a group had gathered. The Hammer and Anvil was an aged tavern full of life. At every table soldiers were wearing their civilian attire. Tunics, leggings, some were shirtless, others had more dignified doublets and jerkins. What united them was a fact of the world and the act of good fortune. They merrily swayed in their places and joined in a song. "Ding dong the Destroyer's gone!" Each filled their mouths with ale and beer in between lyrics.

At the center table was a gathering of the best and brightest. Cassandra, Grecious, the Lowlands Captain, the Knight Captain, and of course Jogarl Bulgebrute. They were laughing and awaiting the return of Destrin to the tavern. At the door stood a meek warrior who was thin, a survivor of the battle who looked to be in ill spirits.

[Eddren]

Destrin strolled up to the tavern, grinning ear to ear. There was a lot of drinking to be done and a party to be had. He'd finally get to have a day off, which was great, because they'd been marching on this damned Destruin extermination campaign for fucking ever, and after this last victory Destrin would finally be able to rest a bit and pick out a new theater to focus on. He saw the meek soldier and slung an arm around the wispy fellow. "Oi! We jus' won a blood battle! A fuckin' huge battle! Biggest we've ever seen! Throw on a grin, 'cause you'll never see a shit storm that big!"

With that, the Baron kicked down the door, a scowl on his face. "Alright, men, got off yer fuckin' asses. Ya've gotten weak since ah've last seen ya, ah can see, an' now we've got a new enemy ta fuck up tha ass." He gave them all a hard stare. "FUCKIN' SOBRIETY BRING IN THA FUCKIN' ALE!" He pumped his arms into the sky and joined his fellows at the table, "An' where tha hell're our bards?"

[Tolvo]

The shaken man was muttering to himself. He still seemed to be down. "B-but we killed them all, slaughtered like sheep. S-so much blood. I can't unsee it." He stayed outside trembling while looking out, dark circles were under his bloodshot eyes. It looked like he wasn't getting any sleep.

At Destrin's words everyone in the tavern cheered. They slammed flagons and cups together spilling heaps of booze all over each other and the floor. A servant was bringing out towels and then went back to get more with a frustrated look. The Lowlands Captain downed her ale then waved for another to be brought over. Cassandra was nursing beer and Grecious had barely touched his drink. Bulgebrute was drinking from two flagons at the same time, his beard was soaked. He let out a huge belch then slammed his head on the table. "I'm sick!" There was a pause before he jerked his head up. "SICK OF BEING CONSCIOUS!" Then he slammed back both at once. From upstairs came the bards who were dressed up like jesters. Apparently to be more entertaining. They started with a joyful melody.

[Eddren]

Destrin nodded to Cassandra, then at the moping one. "Part o' tha cleanup crew, ah think. Got any magic fer tha occasion?" He downed a flagon, then and there, and looked between Grecious and Cassandra, "Ah think ah've got an idea o' why yer nursin' yer drinks. Don't. They were destined ta die, prob'ly a lot worse o' deaths'n we put 'em through--A lot less clean, anyway--An' they helped a--Well. They 'elped a cause."

Destrin downed another flagon and turned to watch the minstrels play. "Ya know, Jogarl, ah think maybe we're bein' a bunch o' pussies. Ah think that tha slayers o' the Great Destroyer shouldn't jus' be drinkin'. We need somethin' more--Somethin' greater. Ya got anythin' in mind?"

[Tolvo]

Cassandra shook her head. "I'm just a slow drinker. Besides I prefer wine." Grecious looked to Destrin then back to his drink. He tilted his head back and took a longer drink. Jogarl threw a flagon across the room that spilled all over the table and everyone. It spun and hit one of the lute players in the face. She held her face in pain and doubled over while Bulgebrute flexed both of his arms. "Wrestling tournament?" The others at the table looked at him angrily while soaked from his drink. Cassandra raised her fists. "Oh I'll wrestle you alright!" Jogarl belched again, it smelled of alcohol, cheese, and meat. "Sorry woman I'm a marred man!"

[Eddren]

Destrin shook his head, "That's married man, an' fine, we'll 'ave a Tournament. You an' me, first fight, no magic, no tricks." He grinned wickedly, "But ah'll warn ya--Ah'll only 'old back as far as 'ow badly ya messed up tha poor girl's face o'er there." He stood up, looked around, "Oi, lads, we've got some thrashin' ta watch! Ring o' tables, can ah get one?" He gave the barkeep a look like, 'I'm the Baron. I'll bloody pay for new tables.' Before turning back toward the people. "Any takers fer tha fight? No magic! No tricks! Jus' yer two fists, an' yer wits!"

[Tolvo]

The barkeep gave Destrin a knowing nod. He pulled out a towel and draped it over his shoulders. Then he came around the bar and flexed his muscular arms. "I'll be the referential justice of battle." Lowlands Captain Ferdinanda shook her head. "We gotta get a shorter name for that. Like, refer-something." Cassandra stood up and took her drink with herself over towards the wall and watched from afar. "I'm not suited for this kind of fighting." Jogarl Bulgebrute stood up and started to circle around the table towards Destrin. "Oh it's on! You've seen the Army's Arm, you know the power of I, KING WRESTER!" From his shirt Jogarl pulled out a purple hood that he put over his head. When he pulled it down over his face there were eye and mouth holes cut in it, and a golden crown painted on the forehead. "FACE THE KING!" He dove over the table at Destrin trying to spear the man as the crowd began to cheer.

[Eddren]

"Referusticattle?" Destrin shrugged. "Sounds good. He can be tha Referusticattle."

Destrin pivoted around the table, then backed up several steps, circling around the table at Jogarl. "Ah'm no Frigid Cliff Bob Joe, but ah've seen my share o' matches! An' so far as ah see 'ere, we've got tables, ladders--' Destrin ran toward the table, jumped, slid across it, and went for a flying clothesline, --"An' one ladder so you can go fuckin' DOWN!"

[Tolvo]

With both of them flying over the table they slammed into one another and got tangled in each other's limbs. Under them the table broke in half spilling food and drinks on them. Everyone else backed away to give them the space to fight. Jogarl was on top, his first act was to try and hold Destrin in place with one arm and raised a fist then tried to punch him square across the jaw. "FACE MY SMACKDOWN!"

[Eddren]

As the Baron rolled to the floor from the broken half of the table, beer spilling and food flying, Destrin used the opening to try and land a couple of blows, only for it to backfire. Now under the looming presence of Jogarl's fist, Destrin retaliated with a well-timed headbutt, then squared his shoulders and began ramming his fists into the sides of Jogarl. "Ah'll beat ya RAW!"