The mermon soldiers lifted Michael's limp body with ease and hefted him over their broad shoulders as they made their way out of the dimly lit tavern. The other patrons watched them go, some with relief that the violent altercation was over and others with a sense of foreboding at the sight of the fearsome mermons.
The poor bartender let out a long sigh, his eyes flitting to the broken tables and chairs scattered around the room. He knew it would be a long night of cleaning up and repairs, and he hoped that the mermon soldiers would at least provide some compensation for the damages.
Outside, the soldiers tossed Michael into the back of a carriage with rough hands, not bothering to be gentle with their captive. The carriage itself was a sturdy, well-crafted vehicle with dark wood paneling and ornate carvings. The horses pulling the carriage were equally impressive, with long black manes that whipped in the wind as they galloped toward Aric's place.
