Rolling in the Drink

A menacing figure stalked the streets of Goblin Town, eyes and head shifting constantly, mouth agape, as though it was his first time in Goblin Town. His eyes and head were constantly moving, as though daring danger to try his mettle. He made his way through one of the roughest parts of the rambunctious city, sneering at any who dared to come close. Clearly, he was looking for a fight, which is why as he moved to enter Glub and Glubb’s bar, Glubb stopped him and checked for any weapons before he let the man in.

Glub and Glubb’s Bar was dimly lit by a few flickering bulbs and the worn out neon sign in a busted window advertising the Goblin Beer which was the only drink served at the place. The floors were scratched and scuffed mismatched hardwood, some of it untreated. In any more civilized city in the Runiverse, this place would have been condemned. Torn concert posters were scattered haphazardly across the walls, and a dusty piano sat on a long disused stage, near a microphone stand topped with a grotesque skull ornamentation. Centered over the back of the stage a poster of Adele, a long retired musician was hung. It was perhaps the only poster in the bar which was not torn, but it was heavily stained by beer. A smattering of goblins were seated about the place, a few of them playing a game of cards at a back table with a giant. Strangely, the bar itself was empty save for a lone human woman. She was beautiful with blue hair, and sparkling blue eyes,wearing the armor of a Brown Knight. She was seated at the bar, a semi-circle of empty bottles arrayed in front of her.

The bar was owned and operated by two Goblin brothers, Glub, and Glubb. One was a talented alchemist and brewer as far as Goblins went, and the other a retired warrior. They had decided to go into business together some years back, but had no real taste for business and an unquenchable thirst for their product. When they had first bought the building, it was pristine, and some blamed the decline of this particular block on their poor business practices. Still, their brew was excellent, and despite the fact that they could not afford to keep the building up, Goblins cared more for the foul taste of their brew than they did the decor of the building they drank it in, so the brothers managed to keep the lights on.

As soon as the man walked into the bar, his mannerisms changed. He shifted seamlessly from a man looking forward to a fight, to an easy going, charming attitude. His eyes still moved continuously, even as he smiled at the various patrons, greeting one or two with warm smiles and friendly nods. Eventually, his eyes landed on the lone woman at the bar. He moved to her, sitting down without an invitation, and nodded at the bartender, tapping his finger on the bar to order a drink.

“I used to be somebody,” the woman said, unprompted but a moment later.

“Oh really?” the man’s smile widened. He laid some coin on the bar as Glub delivered a bottle of Goblin Beer to him and popped the top. “It looks to me as though you still are somebody.” The man nodded at Glub, the goblin brother working the bar tonight.

She took a long swig of her beer and put the empty bottle on the bar. Wobbled a little, and smiled back at him before laying her arms and head across the bar top.

He smiled at her once more and took a sip of his beer before grimacing. “How do they drink this stuff? How do you drink this stuff?”

“You get used to it,” her slurred and muffled reply came a few moments later, “Eventually, your taste buds die and then you only have to worry about the sickeningly sweet rotting aroma.”

“May I buy you another?” The man asked politely.

“Sure,” the woman replied. Turning her head and smiling up at him drunkenly. “It’s been awhile since I met a…” she trailed off.

The man smiled again as he ordered another round for the woman. “What’s your story?” he asked.

“You don’t want to regale me with tales of your latest exploits? That’s how most men start.”

“No. I already know all about me. I’m much more interested in you.”

“What a refreshing change of pace,” the woman replied, sitting back up as Glub added a new bottle to her collection.

“I used to be a musician. I toured the circuit, played the parties, and rolled in the money,” She explained, “But that’s all ancient history now,” she tipped back her bottle and took another sip.

“Really?” asked the man. “You must have been very talented,” he commented in a tone that said he held some doubts.

“I still am,” she winked. Smiling as she stood shakily, and leaned against the bar for balance. “Fancy a tune?”

“Sure, but what ended your career?” The man moved to help the woman to the stage, his smile widening, but the woman waved him off. He still followed her closely to the stage, as she told her story, leaning from chair to chair as she made her way across the room.

“I was working this big party for a client, a Yellow Hat. After the gig, while the band and I were collecting our stuff, he came to pay us out. He had been hitting some potions pretty hard during our set, and wanted more than we agreed on.”

“So,” the man said, “What did he want that was so career ending?”

The woman stopped and turned to him, rolling her eyes in frustration, “Me.” “What?”

“He got… handsy. Forcefully so. Almost everyone had left except for a few of his cronies. He immobilized my band with some sort of spell, and tried to force himself on me,” she finished a few steps from the stage.

“What about that song?” the man asked, clearly trying to change the subject. She beamed at him, “Of course,” and turned her back, continuing the last few steps to the stage. Her gait changed as she went, suddenly appearing much more like the striking woman on the poster in front of her, as a new figure wearing a cloak entered the bar and started looking for someone or something.

A moment later, as she was vaulting onto the stage to get her mic stand turned spear, a familiar voice called out a warning, “Adele!”

Warrior #5136 snatched her weapon and spun back around to the rhythm of a table being overturned, and was very disappointed to see the man she had been flirting with. He was featureless now, his skin changed to a glossy orangish red ooze, and a bright orange rune had replaced his handsome face, his left arm had a goblin sword partially protruding from it, and was being pulled away from her by the end of Warrior #907’s whip. Showing no hesitation, she impaled the assassin construct’s rune, and sighed disappointingly as the energy from the rune faded into the skull embedded on her microphone stand turned spear.

It would be weeks before the prick shut up again.

As the construct shuddered and collapsed into a pile of stinking biomass at the foot of the stage, a raspy voice came from the tip of the spear, “So… how about that song, baby?”

Adele groaned, “Shut up, Prick.” Then looked up at Lucy and smiled her thanks.

Entered by: 0x23A9…07E8 and preserved on chain (see transaction)