Post by rowen on Mar 28, 2010 4:25:33 GMT
Rowen didn't notice the soldier's half solute. He stared off into the small hearth, watching the flames dance and spark as he sipped his drink. He thought it normal silence, maybe even comfortable. It was a nice atmosphere, in a nice place, with nice company. Rowen wasn't the necessarily the talkative type.
Suddenly the sound of people arguing penetrated his foggy brain, and he looked to the confusion, eyes narrowing in an annoyed fashion. Then the fight spread to the whole bar. It seemed that Dreamer and his table was the safe haven from the brawl. Idiots, he thought, why can't they handle this in a civilized manner? They probably aren't fighting over anything. Just fighting to fight. Stupid hooligans. He almost just let the fight go on, but for some reason he felt like shouting at someone today.
He slammed his mug of beer down on the table and stood. He was a tall man, standing just a few inches short of seven feet. It wasn't always noticable, the way he walked with his shoulders slumped. But now he was ticked, and he glared at the direction of where the whole shebang had started.
"You lot! Stop this right now! Stupid idiots, people are trying to enjoy some peace and quiet!"
But it was futile - the fighting kept on. It looked like a full-scale riot had awoken in the Ram. Snarling quietly, Rowen came around the table to the original cause of the problem. He grabbed one of the drunk men by the back of his tunic and hauled him off his opponent and shoved him away. It was lucky the man wasn't heavily muscled, because Rowen sure didn't have any muscle on him. He just used his height as leverage to pull the guy off. That still didn't do much good, and Rowen was stuck ducking and dodging other fights and their punches-gone-wild and the like.
Suddenly the sound of people arguing penetrated his foggy brain, and he looked to the confusion, eyes narrowing in an annoyed fashion. Then the fight spread to the whole bar. It seemed that Dreamer and his table was the safe haven from the brawl. Idiots, he thought, why can't they handle this in a civilized manner? They probably aren't fighting over anything. Just fighting to fight. Stupid hooligans. He almost just let the fight go on, but for some reason he felt like shouting at someone today.
He slammed his mug of beer down on the table and stood. He was a tall man, standing just a few inches short of seven feet. It wasn't always noticable, the way he walked with his shoulders slumped. But now he was ticked, and he glared at the direction of where the whole shebang had started.
"You lot! Stop this right now! Stupid idiots, people are trying to enjoy some peace and quiet!"
But it was futile - the fighting kept on. It looked like a full-scale riot had awoken in the Ram. Snarling quietly, Rowen came around the table to the original cause of the problem. He grabbed one of the drunk men by the back of his tunic and hauled him off his opponent and shoved him away. It was lucky the man wasn't heavily muscled, because Rowen sure didn't have any muscle on him. He just used his height as leverage to pull the guy off. That still didn't do much good, and Rowen was stuck ducking and dodging other fights and their punches-gone-wild and the like.