Drunk

Tyreus burped loudly as he finished another glass of beer. He slammed the glass down on the bar and looked around at the crowd. There were dozens of people from dozens of places, all with various weapons strapped to their bodies. No one trusted any one in a place like this. While he was looking, he felt another glass be pushed into his hand, and he lifted it to his lips and began drinking heavily.

He turned back to the bar to see that the glass had not been placed there on purpose, however. A large man was looming over him, knife in hand, clearly pissed off that Tyreus had taken his drink. Maintaining eye contact, Tyreus finished the drink and placed the glass carefully down onto the bar. "Thanks fer the drink, big fella," he said, slurring his words, "but I'm afraid ya can't buy this lady off tha' easily."

The man roared and slashed at Tyreus face, but it was already gone as he slipped out of his chair and onto the ground. He rolled backward and ended up on his feet, swaying back and forth, his fists twirling uselessly in front of his face. "Not much of one for rejection, eh?" he asked. The man was growling, stepping towards his foe, knife raised and ready to strike. The tavern had fallen silent, all eyes on the two fighters. "Ya might wan' ta spring fer a prostie nex' time. I hear they's pretty easy."

The man lunged forward, and Tyreus stumbled off to the side, arm flailing up to smack the man in the side of his head. The blow didn't do much to hurt the man, but Tyreus bounced off of him and bent almost completely over backwards, dodging another slice the man threw out. He heard the crowd around them starting to snicker. This huge man was losing to an unarmed drunkard.

As Tyreus pulled himself back upright, he stumbled around, finding himself back at the bar with several empty glasses sitting in front of him. He picked one up in each hand and turned back around just in time to see the large man throwing the knife at him. As the knife left the man's hand, Tyreus lifted one glass as if he were drinking from it, and the knife stuck straight into it, stopping just before hitting the space between his eyes. He slowly lowered the glass back down, frowning as he looked at it. "Tha's no beer," he mumbled, looking back at the now fuming man. He could practically see the steaming coming out of the man's ears.

Tyreus stumbled forward towards the man, swaying from side to side, and as the man tried to punch him, he swayed just past his fist each time. Just before reaching him, he tripped, falling forward and slamming his forehead into the man's chin, and his weight pushed them both to the ground with a loud thump. The man groaned in pain from his jaw, and Tyreus shakingly sat up on the man's chest. "Ya nee' ta relax," he muttered, holding up the glass that still held the knife in it. The glass was visibly continuing to crack from the weakness created by the foreign object. "Take a drink." He dropped the glass on the man's face, where it shattered, cutting into his face. The knife his hilt first, bouncing into the air and turning before it fell again, piercing the man's ear before sticking to the floor.

Tyreus stood up slowly, continuing to sway, and walked back to the bar while the man screamed in agony. The tavern watched him in silence. As he sat, he swung the second glass up onto the bar. "Beer, please."