Xangô POV: Day 45

Current Wealth: 8 silver 28 copper

We’d seen big men since coming to Redacle. The one whose balls Solitaire had burst was big, even by modern standards. Kratos had been given his nickname for a good reason, too, taller even than Solitaire himself and muscled like a fucking ox.

The man who approached us now was big as well. And yet lumping him in with them seemed ridiculous. He was taller than any of us by well over a head, and if we’d all happened to be NBA players I didn’t doubt that he’d still have a good few inches on us. The bastard must’ve been seven feet if he was an inch, and though he was no bodybuilder, the jagged muscle pressing out at his shoulders was clear even through the wool shirt that covered them.

Behind him stood maybe a half dozen other men, of varying sizes, and upon his face there was a broad grin that seemed very similar to the arch of some great doorway. His eyes caught lamplight as his face shifted, making them dance disconcertingly.

“Haven’t seen you three around here before.” He grinned, moving his gaze between us. “Don’t take it you’ve heard of the tradition we have in these parts?”

“We haven’t.” Beam replied, before I could cut in. “And I don’t think we’ll be staying long, passing through you see-”

“This block is mine.” The giant pressed, his voice crushing Beam’s like some tiny little ship pulverised to splinters by a great wave. “If you want to drink here, you need to-”

Solitaire hit him before he finished speaking, the bottle held tight in his hand by its neck. It broke against the giant’s face, shattered into bits as if it’d been shot, throwing glass and beer in all directions and sending the man a full step back.

But only a step back. He didn’t fall, didn’t even waver. A man the size of John Cena smashed him without warning, and he barely even seemed fazed. His eyes came back onto our group, and now his grin was wider. Wide enough that I saw the blood running down along his lips from where the jagged shards had cut his face.

“So, it’s gonna be like that, eh?” He grunted, rolling his neck as if we’d politely asked for a brawl, rather than sucker-punched him.

I tightened my eyes, and studied the man. I nearly shit myself as I did.

[Appraisal]

* Class: Warrior

* Level: 11

* Condition: Fine

* Modifiers: Strength +4, Speed +2, Toughness +4, Alertness +2

* Statistics: Strength 13, Speed 6, Dexterity 4, Stamina 5, Toughness 14, Alertness 9, Charisma 3, Intelligence 6

Seeing his stats, I had just about enough time to realise that they probably out-stripped the bear we’d been attacked by on our first night. Then he was lunging for Solitaire.

We’d all sung this song and dance before, though, and Solitaire in particular had his response lined up and ready. He didn’t try to meet the giant head on, didn’t try to weave aside and counter, didn’t even try to beat him to the punch and abort his attack with one of his own. He just turned and ran.

It was almost comical. The sight of my friend spinning on his heel and breaking out into a sprint across the tavern, the giant’s moment of stunned surprise, then the fury that came across his face as he hurried to give chase. Watching it all, I almost missed the opportunity that came when the seven-foot redhead was rushing right past me to get to the Scouser.

Fortunately, I had enough sense to hold out a foot and trip him.

The impact felt like it might rip my leg off at the knee, but I was just strong enough to keep my balance while taking the other man’s. His leg was caught beneath him, his body lurched forwards, and four hundred pounds of fatass smashed face-first into the wooden floor. His head was just a few inches raised back up when Solitaire’s feet came down onto the back of it, his jump having taken him a full metre into the air before landing on the poor sod.

I turned, then, to see that the man’s friends were moving in. Five of them, at least. One was busy picking up teeth that Beam had smashed out. I paused, thought, then decided that the five-on-one was slightly more demanding of my attention. I lunged in to help the olympian.

Even now, I wasn’t much of a fighter, but I had size, and I’d seen enough to know how useful that was. I opened my help up by shoulder-slamming one of the men, catching him in the chest and sending him bouncing off me as I gifted him all my sprinting momentum. He bounced again upon landing, rolling half-over and groaning, then another was coming. Beam tossed one of the man’s friends into him, sending them both down, and I turned my focus to helping my friend with the remaining two.

One of them punched him hard across the jaw, stunning him, and I caught the next one’s arm before they could follow up. A brief wrestling match proceeded between us, which ended when he kneed me in the balls. I groaned, folded and looked up just in time to see the offending thug get knocked fully off his feet by a haymaker that would’ve given satan himself a nosebleed. Beam’s haymaker. The other, apparently, was already down.

Stolen novel; please report.

My friend moved in next to me, putting himself between my body and the three men who were now getting back to their feet.

“Can you move?” He asked. I opened my mouth to speak, then felt a sudden, terrible hollowness in my groin. I vomited, and he sighed. “Tell me when you can.” Beam threw himself at them without further ado.

While he fought, I heard a great crashing across the room and turned to see Solitaire grappling the giant. Well, grappling was the wrong word. My friend was on his back, climbing his enormous frame, fingers digging in to use ears, nostrils and flabs of meat for grip. His face was just beside the enemy’s, jaws closed tight around the man’s cheek, chin and brow. It was like watching a human being mauled by some feral chimpanzee.

A big human, mind. And one with leather for skin, because he wasn’t actually being hurt all that much, and every moment Solitaire came closer to being caught. I turned back to Beam, saw him snatching one man into a headlock while hammering away at another one’s guard, and tested myself. The third was coming up behind him.

I could move, albeit at the cost of another wave of discomfort. It would have to do.

The man closing on Beam was bigger than the others, and I wasn’t sure I’d be overpowering him as easily. So I didn’t risk it. I snatched a wooden stool up from a nearby table, brought it around as I closed in and turned my approach into a swing. Beam saw it arcing for him, doubtless realised what was happening, and sidestepped from the path. His timing was perfect, and barely an eyeblink passed between his movement and the wooden edge finding home in the enemy’s face. The man went down instantly, and I stumbled back with the stool.

By the time I’d hefted it again, Beam had choked one man into unconsciousness and kicked the last so hard that I actually worried he might’ve died. We both moved our focus to Solitaire and the giant.

Just in time to see our friend hauled from the man’s back, hoisted fully over his head like some strong man’s barbell, and physically thrown to soar a full ten feet and land viciously hard on his head. He bounced, rolled, then remained where he lay. Groaning and coughing.

In an ideal world, we’d have tended to him, but the big man was closing in too fast to allow that. Beam acted first, snatching the stool from my grip and handling its twenty pound weight as if it were made of polystyrene. He tossed it like a shot put, aim landing the edge perfectly against our enemy’s face and…Barely making him flinch. He was on the olympian an instant later.

Honestly, I’d like to tell you that we proceeded to trounce the man. That we used makeshift weapons, skill, savagery and- most important of all- the power of friendship to finally put him down. Truth be told? We didn’t. In fact I think we barely even hurt the fucker. By the time our brawl was done, there wasn’t really a winner. Just an absence of a loser.

The big man had thrown us all around like dog toys for the better part of a quarter hour before finally steaming out, taking a seat on one of the remaining unbroken stools, and threatening to snap it beneath his weight even then. We did much the same, panting and glaring at the stupid fucker, while he did much the same to us.

In the time since our fight had started, the tavern had filled in with extra faces, mostly there to watch the local tough actually get a run for his money. That was fine by me, but I could see Solitaire getting more agitated by the second. He always had hated crowds.

“You’re….Alright.” The giant called out, from where he was sitting some dozen feet away. “Didn’t…Expect that hard of a fight.”

Solitaire muttered something, possibly about setting him on fire, and I tried to think of a suitable response. Surprisingly, it was Beam who gave one.

“Not bad yourself.” He gasped, still out of breath, though recovering faster than us. “Didn’t expect I’d meet someone who’d still be standing after me and my brothers fought him three on one.”

That cracked a broad smile across the man’s face, and his eyes danced.

“Didn’t expect to meet three someones who could fight me, even together.” He replied, apparently rather pleased.

Of course he was pleased. I shouldn’t have bothered thinking of anything to say at all, we already knew Beam could speak meathead.

Whatever budding conversation might have continued between them, it was interrupted by a rather angry looking man storming over. I quickly recognised him as the barkeep, and figured where the conversation was going just an instant before he opened his mouth.

“You fucking wrecked the place!” He snapped, glaring, surprisingly, at the giant instead of us. “This is the third time, Argar.”

The giant, apparently named Argar, shrugged. He seemed apologetic in the same way someone returning a year-overdue library book might be right before borrowing another.

“Sorry, didn’t expect them to be that hard.”

It appeared to be the exactly wrong thing to say, because the barkeep’s temper only shortened from there. What followed was a barrage of screamed accusations that even I could only make out around half of, and by the end the giant actually looked somewhat chastened.

“How do you expect to pay for this?” The barkeep snarled, apparently holding only Argar responsible, despite my friends and me having done our fair share of breaking too. And that was when the idea struck me.

“We can put some money up.” I cut in, studying the man- and the giant- as their eyes turned to me in surprise. “We were involved, after all, and we have a fair amount of cash on hand.”

The barkeep seemed mollified, but Argar cut in somewhat suspiciously.

“Why would you do that?” He demanded, glaring at me now. I resisted the urge to smile as I replied.

“Because you’re going to work it off.”