The Reyburn Contracts: Orion

Part 3 - The Gator Head Tavern

About ten minutes later Roswell found the street to which the farmer referred. After walking the cobblestone street for a few minutes, the state of the homes appeared more livable. Most people on the street didn't seem to pay him any mind, though he still stuck out. He theorized that either the people were too well-mannered to show that level of judgement, or that it would've been considered too uncouth to pay him any mind.

The two-story tavern stood with a fair amount of space between two apartment blocks. Above the double doors leading into the tavern hung a sign which showed a menacing alligator head that almost appeared to be grinning, barring its exaggeratedly pointed teeth. There was nothing outside the bar other than a wood carving of an anthropomorphized alligator about three feet tall with a tankard in one hand raised to toast, which stood right next to the double doors.

As Roswell stared at the tavern, several men nearly fell through the entrance doors, but caught themselves before taking a tumble. They were clearly in a joyous stupor from their afternoon of revelry. He stepped around the two men and opened one of the doors. A cacophony of laughter, shouting, and some singing hit him like a brick wall, as did the smell of roasted chicken, pork, and ale.

The main parlor was structured in a way so it wrapped around the bar and hearth, with many tables and booths around the room. To his left he saw a smaller isolated room with small tables set up. To his right he could see a short hall where the stairs to the second floor were, as well as the door to the kitchen. He began to walk around the room, looking for an empty seat, so he started for the right side of the room. He passed by one table with a man and woman arm wrestling each other. At another table there was a group of two men and two women who seemed to be sharing a laugh together, and then clanked their tankards in a toast. He passed by a group of three men with their arms over each other's shoulders and singing, and at the end of another table was a rugged man with a woman dressed in more revealing attire sitting on his lap. Roswell got to where he had walked by more than half the room when suddenly a man sitting in a seat facing away from the stranger, got up to step away from his booth. Before Roswell could react, he ran directly into the man, knocking him forward and his tankard out of his hand, and leaving him dazed for a moment.

The patron clumsily turned around and eyed the stranger up and down. "Oh gods, of course it's an outsider," he exclaimed, motioning to the rest of the room. "Why do you people insist on coming into my town and pissing me off." The man then shoved Roswell.

"I assure you sir, it was a humble mistake," Roswell said. "I can understand how irritating it may be, but I assure you, there's no need to be hostile."

"Oh, I sure do," the drunk man said. "That was a twenty Orsim pint, you gods-damned moron. That's a fourth of my daily wages all over the floor." He shoved Roswell again who stumbled, caught his balance, then took a few steps toward the man.

"Listen fella', I'm not looking for a fight. I've just come in from Anchormist -"

"Oh, a city boy then?" the drunk man said derisively. This bit of information seemed to anger him even more. Roswell was about to reply to this, but before he could get a word out, the drunk man was already throwing a haymaker. Roswell quickly threw up his forearms and blocked the man's swinging arm. Before the man could react, Roswell grabbed his now un-clenched hand and bent it inwards, sending a surge of pain up the man's arm until he fell to his knees. If he tried to move or pull away, it would only inflict more pain. This was the ideal defensive move he could use to keep the opponent from attacking without injuring them.

"Calm down, Henry," another man said after stepping out from the same booth. "It was a simple mistake, just sit down and have my ale."

Roswell released Henry's hand but stayed alert in case he retaliated. Instead, Henry just rubbed the pain out of his wrist and stood up and stared at Roswell for a moment while replying to his friend. "You know you're my favorite drinking buddy, Fen, but I've got to teach this outsider to stay out of my town."