“Get the hell out of here ye…begone brat! I have not the time for yer shite!” Dreng slurred out as he grabbed Teon by the hair, dragging him from his bedroom. Teon grunted and thrashed like a wild boar as he fought to pry off his father's iron grip. His right eye had already started to swell shut and an angry welt stung his left shoulder as Dreng threw him down the stairs. Teon rolled with the fall, the edges of the steps punching him as he tumbled to the bottom. A splinter stuck to his knee. He winced in pain as he pulled it out, drops of blood seeping out from the hole and staining his trousers.

“Father, stop! Please!” He pleaded as he scrambled to his feet, jumping out of the way of a wild haymaker.

“Sod off! You…it’s all yer doing!” Dreng roared out as he charged forward, poised to tackle his son to the ground. Teon spun out of the way, letting his father crash into the table behind him. His eyes darted left and right, scanning the room frantically as he dodged a barrage of blows. Ducking, spinning, turning, jumping. Teon spotted his opening and shoved his elbow directly into the center of Dreng’s chest with all his might. Dreng sputtered and wheezed as he fell to his knees, though his furious gaze remained fixed on the boy.

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Teon wasted no time. He spun on his heel and burst out through the door, sprinting away from his home and into the streets of Manton. The faces all around him were a blur, the strange looks and astonished remarks about his appearance passing him by. His gaze was fixed upon the sign in the distance: the statuette of a boar beckoning patrons into the Boar’s Den. He fell through the door, his legs finally giving out as he lay sprawled on the floor of the tavern. Patrons all around him stopped their conversations, laughter faded away, as all eyes fell upon the beaten and bruised boy before them.

A big-bellied man with a curled red beard approached him and helped him up to his feet. “Up ye go laddie. Yer da up to his antics again, I take it?” Teon panted frantically, his hands resting on his knees, as he nodded in response. The man turned his attention to the staring crowd and bellowed out, “Right then! Back to yer drinks now! Nothin’ to be seen ‘ere!” Gradually, first as a murmur and then louder, conversation and ale resumed flowing.

Teon breathed out, “My thanks, Halig,” as he rested his weight on the larger man's shoulder.

“No need for thanking lad. Yer like family, treat this as yer home if ye will.” Halig gave Teon a smile as warm as the great fire in the center of the tavern. “You'll need a healer. It's too late to go out and find ye one, but lucky fer you, we've got one in house as it were. Perks of having a future daughter-in-law who's training in the art, eh?”

Levina, then. Sorry Bald, it appears I must bring your night to a halt.