The old man was skinny and he rattled as he held out a shoddy old broom twords Baldune, as if it were some sort of spear. It had seen much use in this tavern. The barman had few patrons and so his beer would remain undrank, filling his time with odds and ends. He would clean ale mugs, already spotless and sweep the floors again and again, despite the lack of dirt. He swept till the straws were worn or broken and now it lay sparse and nearly bare. It was a broom that couldnt sweep held by a barman who didn't brew. "I-I dont want no trouble in my bar! J-just leave!"
Others stood and joined him, all also nearly as frail and weak as the old man. "Y-yeah! Just do what he says demon!" One spoke as he stood behind the barman. "We know the servants of evil when we sees em!" Another added. Baldune stood with a grunt, exhaleing smoke like some sort of dragon. The weight of his armor could be felt in the sound of his step. Each boot pressing in a deep muddled thuds complimented by the sharp reslient chiming of metal belt latches tapping unseen parts of the man's war-hardened armor.
His size cast a great shadow, and as it reached out the sparse few coward before him. But baldune pulled out his coin and layed it on the spotless countertop. The old man blinked at the gesture and shook his broomstick. "We dont want your cursed gold! Blood money!" The old man's eyes, dull with ignorance, furled a stern look. " Take your coin!" He swung his broom at the coin, sending it clattering across the floor. "Take it and beg-" A loud creek of the tavern door interrupted the old man's ravings and two men, sword clad stood in the doorway.
"Well well...what have we here?" Thunder rumbled as the first man spoke and soft droplets of rain blew in from the outside gusts. He was hooded, the same as his fellow, in a long blackened cloak and stank of rot and booze.
"Oh thank the heavens! Heros to save us!" The old bar men coward over to the two men. The second hooded figure smiled wide, his teeth crooked and yellowed. "Here that Tallow? He called us heros!" The pair began to laugh. Tallow removed his hood, his hair was thin and sparse, his skin pale and poc-marked, and his nostrils bore up wide and hideous. He looked down at the old man. "Aye..." He muttered darkly. "We'll be your heros..."
