It's Tuesday night. I'm never here on a Tuesday night. Tuesday night is when Mayorga ropes one of the other idiots to work and I get tonight and tomorrow night off. I'm used to this set up and that's why she sent that stupid gremlin runner to wake me up an hour ago. I glance around the bar, my head splitting from the bottle of Drider Venom Wine. I've faced a Drider or two and the hurt it put me through makes me think they got their marketing a little too on the nose.

Knowing I don't work Tuesdays, none of my regulars are here. It's busy, but its nothing compared to a horde of hobgoblins. The only difference is I'm not really suppose to hit these knuckleheads.

"Hey! I'm dying of thirst over here!" The young elf is waving his hands at me, trying to impress his friends. I pretend not to hear them giggling amongst themselves, even though my Perception is at a high level 25. I mainly did that so I can dungeon crawl drunk.

I make my way over to this young punk and stare with a grin right in his face, "Welcome to Circus of Ales. What are you having?" It's not the standard greeting, but I'm not the standard bartender. I don't even wear the stupid uniform that everyone else wears. White shirt and brown cloth vest? I don't think so.

Choosing, instead, a set of enchanted clothes I slapped together from the overgrown pile of stuff I call my Adventure Chest: black +3 Hooded Tunic, black Displacer Beast Leather Pants, and Boots of Ass Kicking should the moment call for them. The boots aren't really called that, but its what they've done for years. I like the stats they give and the bonus abilities mesh well with working in a bar.

"Oh," he's glancing over at his friends with a look of concern on his face, "I don't think we're ready yet."

He just drained all of my Patience Points with that one. Not that I have a lot to begin with. I'm about to give this chump a piece of my mind when my goblinette barback, Indigo, butts in, "I'll take this one, boss." I've told her to stop calling me that, but she refuses to yield. She's a three foot goblinette the same color as her name implies. It's uncommon for them to be non-green so I think that's why she ended up in this city and not in some mud hut in the middle of nowhere. I tussle her black hair and nod my head.

"You know me, boss. Happy to help. Besides, Zuuna needs you." She makes kissy faces at me as she jumps on the special shelf I installed for her. From behind me I hear her high pitched craggly voice, "Alright, Ear Fangs. You know which end to put the drink you want or you need help figuring it out?" I nearly trip when I hear that, but I keep going to the service bar, the area where a bartender makes drinks for the bar maids.

Standing there with a hand on her hip, a cocked eyebrow, and a toothy smile is the charming Infernus, Zuuna Foxbrook. She has light blue skin, short black hair, and short gray horns that pop up a few inches from her temple. When I say she's charming, I literally mean she casts subtle charm spells on people. I'm not sure how she gets away with it, but she's doing it to me-- "Stop that!"

Her heart tipped tail covers her mouth though she smiles with her eyes, "Caught me, Puck. How can you even tell?" She pulls up a small red screen with all of her drinks on it. I thank the Goddess of Handwriting that this one is considerate enough to make her letters nice and big. The pulsing headache that won't go away still makes it a challenge to pour.

"Three pints Frost Dragon Ale, two Dryad Sweats, and a fucked up dwarf," she clarifies in case I fail the vision test.

"Wait, what was the last thing?"

"No. I have a fucked up dwarf in my section and I'm gonna get Gunther to help me. Wanna play back up?" She winks at me and I sigh as I finishing pouring the third beer. I reach for two bottles in the convenient rack at my waist and-- shit! I hate the way Alister sets up his bar! I swear, he sets everything up backwards just so he has something to complain about when he comes in! I toss the bottles back in the rail, making an unnecessary amount of noise and causing the Infernus to jump a little.

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"Sorry, kiddo."

The demoness just shakes her head and looks over at a pillar where a half-orc wearing a white ruffled shirt, black waistcoat, and black trousers is standing sentry. To this day I laugh through my nose at their uniform. I think he's supposed to be dressed up for the sake of professionalism, but he looks like he robbed a pirate of his clothes. All he's missing is the funny hat and a small bird.

"Well," I huff as I place her order in front of her, "I'll cast an eye in your direction in case Gunther needs me. I doubt it, but you never know with adventurers."

"Thanks," she says, catching the head of secruity's attention. She waves her hand towards the cups, nearly knocking them over. "Shit," she says under her breath as she tries again and the drinks disappear into a red ring on her middle finger, "How do I always get the messed up one?"

I pour a shot of brown liquor into a shot glass and squeeze the juice out of half of a red fruit called a gorgonberry. Not sure why it's called a berry though, it's the size of my fist. The moment the juice mixes with the liquor in the glass, it begins to glow a dim red. I slide it over to her and she downs it in a single gulp. Her grey eyes twitch and she grimaces, almost gagging.

"Blech! What the hells was that?"

"That was on me. Now, show that rock banger who's boss. Gunther. Gunther is boss. And he won't need me."

She flicks her tail at me, though I know that's as far as we go. We've been back and forth like this for far too long without it ever escalating and I'm not sure either of us is interested.

"I'll be right back, boss." I turn and spy Indigo hopping on top of the bar. My heart races, but she assures me that she's only getting another few bottles of Moonspirit; a clear, orderless, flavorless liquor that we pretty much use for everything.

I'm in the middle of serving a very attractive Succubis, I'm a sucker for redheads, when I hear a commotion from Zuuna's section. It's the dwarf and I try to ignore him. Crash! Damn, rock banger. I turn my attention to the red skinned woman with the red and orange flame hair, "Pardon me, miss."

She shoots me back a flirty look, "It's Missus. But he's not here so..." She flashes a blinding diamond on her dainty fingers as they trace around the rim of her wine glass.

A long string of Dwarven curse words mumbles out of the dwarf's beard and his companions are quick to join him in his tirade. I bite my lip and make up my mind, "If you'll excuse me."

I slide on my angry face and stomp away from what was going to be the cure for my pin-cushioned brain. That's the last time I drink anything beginning with the word "Drider". A melodic voice calls out to me, "Save some of that spirit for me, big boy!" Oh, this dwarf is going to get it.

Gunther is unimpressed by the adventurers. There are five of them, including the dwarf, and most of them are squared up with fists. A Fissit, rat person, actually has a short sword on him. That should've been checked in at the door and I wonder where the hells did he keep it. Ew. I don't personally have anything against them, having had a fling with a Fissita many years ago. Flexible. Prehensile tail. Nibble nibble. Of course, I was high off my ass on Lung Weed most of the time. Still, I think about Tiffany once in a while. Oh yeah, Gunther.

I hold up a thumbs up in his peripheral vision. His arms are crossed, but the fist pointing towards me shoots a sharp thumbs up back at me and I lean on the bar to enjoy the show.

I cringe at the amount of damage being inflicted. A bewildered halfling couple runs out of the way of the flying Fissit with the now broken hand. I reluctantly use a bar rag to catch the shortsword Gunther throws my way. I take a sniff, shrug my shoulders, and decide to keep the thing. I think it's actually enchanted to disappear and reappear from a seperate dimension, but i'll have my guy check it out later.

Gunther is holding the dwarf by his ankles and slamming him into the others. I mentally give his move a six. I've seen it done, but wth a full elf and let me tell you that elf did some damage.

The idiots were tossed out of the building unceremoniously, but a large scale healing spell was cast on them from the half-orc's hand. Gunther is standing just inside the doorway, "Next time, I wont be so nice."

Zuuna is near me at the bar, also watching the door. Without looking away I ask, "Did they tip?" She shakes her head. "Tch. Tourists."