The floating helmet began to spin eerily as it rang across the gloomy bar, the expressionless emptiness that passed for Araduun's face rotating slowly until it finally came to rest facing the man who had dared to strike up "small talk". Recognition registered faintly in Araduun's mind - this was the same "heroic" fighter he had knocked flat in the battle outside. He took a sip from his mug, just for effect, and savoured his acquaintance's confusion as the drink disappeared into his non-existant form. By now the whole bar was staring at the abomination, attracted by the ringing caused by that wretched elf......Araduun made a mental note to have a few words with him (after he explained about the fish, of course). Ignoring the incredulous stares, Araduun struck up conversation offhandedly:
"I am Araduun, and the last time I walked this world with living steps has almost faded from memory. I came to plunder and pillage this place, and the gates were in the way" - he eyed the shady figure on his left, which had just jumped atop the bar - "but I see little point in following through with that now: there's little here but mud, madness, and two bit heroes."
His listener was obviously offended at this, but the dead have little in the way of tact, and Araduun barreled on: "in fact..."
However, at that moment he was interrupted by the alcohol-saturated....man....standing on the bar screaming out "who wants to help me kill the m***** *** f******* b**** *** *** ******* that this belongs to?????" swinging a mace embossed with a family coat of arms and effortlessly pronouncing row after row of asterisks. Araduun considered this for a moment then swiveled his "head" back to his conversational partner.
"Well?" he asked.
"I am Araduun, and the last time I walked this world with living steps has almost faded from memory. I came to plunder and pillage this place, and the gates were in the way" - he eyed the shady figure on his left, which had just jumped atop the bar - "but I see little point in following through with that now: there's little here but mud, madness, and two bit heroes."
His listener was obviously offended at this, but the dead have little in the way of tact, and Araduun barreled on: "in fact..."
However, at that moment he was interrupted by the alcohol-saturated....man....standing on the bar screaming out "who wants to help me kill the m***** *** f******* b**** *** *** ******* that this belongs to?????" swinging a mace embossed with a family coat of arms and effortlessly pronouncing row after row of asterisks. Araduun considered this for a moment then swiveled his "head" back to his conversational partner.
"Well?" he asked.
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