Golden Tusk Tavern, Royal Capital of the Kingdom of Runtallia– Durhamfortt, Late Summer of the Year 556 of the Runtallian Calendar…
THE INTOXICATING AIR, filled with the odorous smell of booze, blood and sweat, enveloped the enclosed space that sheltered dozens of men garbed in scruffy tunic and gambeson. There were around three dozens of these men, each in possession of a spear, sword or other type of polearms. Grime and dried blood soiled their garbs, attesting at how these men boasted an active martial life. Yet despite the filth that smeared their body, they all seemed to exhibit a jolly demeanor. By a single look upon their faces, one would arrive at a surmise how they were drunk not only with liquor, but victory in battle to boot.
"Oi, barmaid!" a boisterous voice boomed that coincided with the merry racket. "Come now, you think this pint of ale would satisfy us?! Give me the whole barrel, at the double!"
