Tarsaiq was stuck in Oxguard for similar reason why most of the other people in the tavern were – he needed a shelter from the rain. He has been here for a while and the bloody downpour showed no sign of stopping any time soon, which was a problem because he already fleeced all merchants willing to play the dice with him and he was beginning to get bored. Bored Tarsaiq, with addition of alcohol, was a recipe for trouble.
Fortunately, when his boredom began giving way to irritation, an interesting thing happened. A man, clad in plate armour which saw a lot of use, entered the tavern and asked for help against the local Mayor. Now, Tarsaiq wasn’t really concerned with his and other villager’s woes, but there was nothing interesting to do at the moment and he was about to start some trouble anyway. In addition, the old man said anyone who helps was free to loot the manor. So, Tarsaiq will have both fun and gain – it was a win-win situation.
He stood up from his chair, his halberd in his right hand and his left hand on his waist. With head held high and playful smile on his face, he approached the old warrior.
“Good man! I have heard your plight and like some of these fine folk here I am also willing to join your fight! We shall give that scoundrel Mayor a trashing he will remember for as long as he lives!”
Which, now that I am involved, won’t be for long.
