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Rated: E · Fiction · Fantasy · #2297047
My second entry in the Campfire
Aye, I suppose there be worse ways to kill one's self. I always forget how much I don't mind bein' three sheets to the wind as long as the Punch keeps a comin'.

First time I've been to the Shading Palm. It's definitely my kind a tavern, dim, quiet and inviting for those lookin' to get lost. Ain't recognized a soul and that's a'right by me. Course there ain't many blokes in here to begin with and I raise my mug in a silent toast for that. The last of the Punch runs down my throat and I feel the parch risin' a'ready. I thump the counter to get the barman's attention, me fist sounding like the boom of cannon fire in my ears. I cringe and turn to drunkenly apologize to the room for me...overenthusiasm. Fortunately not a one is payin' me no mind. Unfortunately they're all starin' at the couple walkin' in my direction who ARE paying me all the mind. Shite...I don't need this.

He's tall...or short. Maybe sandy haired or black like mine own. Hells, he could be bare assed naked havin' his way with a frisky sow and I wouldn't care one lick. She holds all my attention, what little that hasn't drowned in my cups yet. Her hair is a dark crimson, spillin' passed her shoulders and framin' the porcelain face of a goddess. Her green eyes burn their way into my soul and my arm instinctively reaches behind me, searchin' desperately for me mug or any distraction. The room has suddenly gotten a lot warmer makin' me more than one kind of uncomfortable.

They don't stop until they are right on top of me. I try to act tough, fumbling to pull out me dragon but the man knocked it easily out of my hand. I barely hear it discharge as it hit the ground, so intent was my staring contest with this enchantin' creature. No way was this beauty real. She reached up, her hand stretching towards my face and I did nothing to stop it. I craved her touch. I wanted nothin' more than to feel the softness of her flesh against mine. Her first finger and thumb pressed above and below me right eye while her remaining fingers dug in behind me ear. She exerted a gentle direct pressure.

I've never experienced such sudden sobriety and clearness of thought as I did in that instant. It scared and awed me.

"I have need of your talents, Redmond the Black Death. This is but a sample of your reward." With that, she drew back her hand.

When she let go, the tidal wave of inebriation smashed back into me with a near physical force, driving me to my knees. The overwhelming drunkenness was too sudden, too great so I did the most obvious thing once should expect of a drunk fool. I vomited all over the man's boots. I had but a fleeting moment to admire my handiwork. Maybe he kicked me, maybe she did or maybe the drink had just caught up to me. I can't remember how my world went dark, it just did.
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