It was a peaceful walk to the town. The two friends were enjoying being away from the chaos of the cafe. The afternoon sun was mild, and a gentle northern breeze accompanied them, adding to their relaxation.

“I’m curious. How did the Battleaxes settle in this town?” Rose asked.

Batty smiled and said, “Oh, Mom and Dad liked it here. Something about their first fight or, uh, date.” Rose gave her a confused look. “It’s really the same thing for Battleaxes.” Batty laughed, “Mom and Dad fighting didn’t mean the same as everyone else. Being who they are, they both wanted to stay sharp. But after I was born, Dad said no more kids. So, we packed up and came here. Honestly, I think it’s been easier on dad with mom gone.”

Rose inhaled, “I’m sorry. My parents died right after I was born.”

Batty quickly said, “No, no. She’s not dead. At least, I’m pretty sure she isn’t. We got a letter from here last month. She’s just away.”

“Oh, how long has she been gone?” Rose asked.

“About five years or so. She’s, uh, she’s.” Batty looked up at the sky and took a deep breath, “She’s an assassin.” Rose blinked in surprise. “It’s kinda a sore spot with our family. Battleaxes and assassins don’t mix. Mom was sent to kill Dad, and well, they fell in love.”

“Love story for the ages,” Rose snickered.

“So, mom is away. She comes back but doesn’t like settling down for long.” Batty said, kicking a pebble.

“I was raised by the last two Shamans. My parents went off to fight with the warlords when I was very young. I don’t even remember what they looked like. Like many of our kind, they didn’t come back.” Rose said, wiping away a tear.

“I’m sorry. Don’t tell Dad, but I like not fighting. This is a better life.” Batty confided.

“I’m glad Chief Richard agreed to keep doing this,” Rose remarked, “This is good for us. We lost too many in the wars.”

“Us too,” Batty said, “There are fewer Barbarians now. Fodder for those who don’t fight.” Clearing her throat, she asked, “So, uh, tell me about your boyfriend.”

“What boyfriend?” Rose asked.

“Oh, you know, Great Orc Rose.” Batty teased.

“Rick,” Rose sighed.

“Yeah, Rick’s got it bad.” Batty kept teasing.

“I know. I had to talk Chief out of killing him. When the village gets here, there will be more problems. Imps are tolerated at best.” Rose said.

“But they seem to be integrating well into the cafe,” Batty noted.

“Sure, Rick and Mick. Chief is thinking about hiring more imps. They are good workers. If we keep going, we will need all the help we can get.” Rose said.

“So, how are you going to let Rick down? He’s going to be devastated.” Batty said with a frown. “Poor guy.”

“Let him down?” Rose exclaimed, shocked. “Why? I adore the little guy. I want to just squeeze him.” Rose held up her hands, “Not in a bad way.” She lowered her voice, “I got it bad for him too.”

“How would that work?” Batty asked.

Rose laughed, “We have our ways.” (Sorry, Dear Reader, this is not that kind of story.)

Batty and Rose laughed together. As they walked through the gates, they waved at the guards, who waved back.

One guard nudged his friend, “Hey! An Orc and a Barbarian walk into a bar.”

The other guard smiled, "And? What happens next?"

"I don't know, they just drink," the first guard shrugged.

Then we have fun, the Universe whispered.

“Welcome to The Battle Axe Tavern,” Batty said, opening the door for Rose.

Rose and Batty entered the dark, loud tavern. When Rose’s eyes adjusted, she saw the place was packed with many different species. She admired the battleaxes that decorated the walls.

“Batty!” Battleax shouted from the kitchen.

“Hi, Daddy!” Batty waved to her father. “Rose and I are going to grab a table.”

The two friends sat down, and Bat, Batty's older brother, brought over two large ales.

“Hey, sis! Who’s your friend?” Bat asked as he sat down.

“This is Rose,” Batty said. “Rose, this is my older brother Bat.”

“Nice to meet you, Bat,” Rose said.

Bat smiled, “Nice to meet you, too. It’s good that Batty found a friend she won’t break.” He laughed as he jumped from the table, avoiding Batty’s fist. “Back to work!” He shouted.

“Won’t break?” Rose asked.

Batty looked up at the ceiling, “I may have been a bit of a tomboy as a girl.”

Rose laughed, trying to imagine Batty being girly. “Really?” She asked, still chuckling, as Batty rolled her eyes.

“You like spicy?” Batty asked.

“Yes! I’m hoping to try the wings,” Rose said.

"Wings, and make them hot!" Batty shouted, and the tavern erupted in cheers.

Battleax brought out three large plates of wings, followed by Bat with six tankards of ale. Rose's mouth began to water from the aroma of the wings. She could smell the spicy hotness radiating off of the food.

“Good to see you again, Rose. How’s the pups doing?” Battleax asked, sitting down.

Rose laughed. "They're good. We really appreciate the help from Batty and Greg."

“Greg threw Fredrick again,” Batty remarked.

Battleax laughed. "Oh? Did he beat his last toss?" Batty nodded. "I'll write it down, but first, let's eat."

Each of them grabbed a wing and began to eat. Rose started feeling the heat from the sauce, understanding now what the Chief meant. The more she ate and drank, the more she savored the food.

"I love this sauce. I heard Barbarians are good with sauces, but this is wonderful," Rose said, her mouth full of food.

"It's an old family recipe," Battleax said, his mouth full. "I'm happy to pass it on to my kids." (Thankfully, he didn't pass on his table manners.)

They finished all the food on their plates and drank several tankards of ale. Rose found Battleax to be both charming and kind.

This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road. If you spot it on Amazon, please report it.

An elf climbed onto the stage, tuning her instrument as the loud tavern quieted. Then, she began to sing.

Verse 1:

In deep woods, underneath the blue skies,

Where ancient creatures went for the long slumber,

Lived an ancient one so wise,

A sage of ages like no other.

Chorus:

Sing, sing, O daughter of the stars,

For him who's journeyed far and wide,

Through realms where silent shadows mar,

In forests deep, where spirits hide.

Verse 2:

His eyes like pools of twilight's glow,

His voice, the wind's own gentle sigh,

For centuries, through highs and lows,

He watched as time went sweeping by.

Chorus:

Sing, sing, O daughter of the dawn,

For him, the keeper of our lore,

In glades where once the gods had spawned,

His whispers speak of ancient yore.

Verse 3:

In cloak of leaves with crown of thorns,

The ancient one walked the forest floor,

His heart, with elder wisdom borne,

A guide to all who sought his door.

Bridge:

But in time, the black-cloaked one,

Came walking through the emerald shade,

And took from us our sage, his time had come,

On a starlit night, his light did fade.

Chorus:

Cry, cry, O daughter of the woods,

For him, our light, our ageless kin,

His tales are etched in ancient runes,

In every leaf, in every wind.

Verse 4:

Now empty stands his woodland home,

His tales but echoes in the breeze,

Yet in our hearts, his spirit roams,

In every leaf, in every tree.

Outro:

So sing, O sing, with voices clear,

Remember him, who once did dwell,

In every heart, his memory dear, in the woods, farewell.

The music settled over the awe-struck crowd. Rose and Battleax were openly weeping. Many were wiping tears from their eyes.

A man beside Battleax pointed at the old man and sneered, “Look, the old man is crying.”

“Shut up,” hissed someone close by.

“What’s the old man going to do? Blow his nose on my sleeve?” The man sneered

Rose didn’t see Battlax move. He suddenly stood at the table, hoisting the man by his collar.

"Real men are sensitive. Learn that now, boy," he said, his mismatched wild eyes boring into the man's terrified eyes, who struggled against the old man's iron grip.

In a moment of panic, the man made the bad decisions of all bad decisions. He struck the Legendary Battleax of the Battleax clan from the region of Battleax. Everyone gasped in surprise and horror. They knew they were going to witness a gruesome murder, and none could look away.

Battleax reared his head back and bellowed, “BAR FIGHT!”

The regular patrons knew what to do. They jumped to attention and began to pull the tables and chairs to the walls. The more terrified non-regulars jumped in to help. Soon, the middle of the tavern floor was clear of all furniture. Batty clapped her hands and nudged Rose with a smile.

"Okay, listen up!" Bat shouted as he walked to the center of the room. "This is a bar fight; anyone who doesn't want to participate, leave now." Nobody left. “Now, listen up. Here are the rules.," he continued. "First, if someone is on the floor, they're out. The refs,” He pointed to himself and to Batty and Rose, “will pull them to the side. You will not engage a person once they are on the floor. Next, no weapons; this means no daggers, battleaxes, swords, chairs, forks, etc. You pull a weapon, and the refs will intervene.”

One brave man shouted, “Hey, what if we ‘accidentally’ hit the Orc?” He was the only one who laughed at his joke.

Bat sneered at the man, “Then she'll tear your arms off.” The man glanced at Rose, who took that moment to flex her impressive muscles. Bat resumed shouting, “The refs are armed.” Bat brandished his impressive Battleax. Batty pulled two battleaxes from the wall and handed one to Rose. “Fistucufss only. Now, Ax will start the timer, and I will blow this whistle to start and end the fight. When the fight is over, it’s over. Everyone clear!”

The collective combatants shouted in agreement, except for the man still hoisted off his feet by Battleax. Bat blew the whistle, and the bar fight began.

Battleax began to slap the man with his right hand. The man struggled but mostly had to hang onto the muscular forearm of the Barbarian. Battleax got his groove and began slapping the man to the beat of the music the elf started playing. She knew when to have a good war song ready.

An elf shouted, "You're going down, dwarf!" To which the dwarf retorted, "I ain't got far to go, but you'll join me, elf!"

Four men had gathered in a group and were slapping each other. They couldn’t help but laugh as they did so. They came for the ale and wings but stayed for the bar fight. One of the four lost his balance and fell. Bat grabbed him and pulled him from the group. They kept slapping each other and laughing until they lost their balance and were pulled from the fight. They each cheered as they were dragged away.

The dwarf and the elf were in an epic battle. The dwarf would swing his ax, and the elf would jump. The elf would swing his sword, and the dwarf knelt a little. They would laugh and start over. Rose moved to remove them, but Bat stopped her with a wave. They were regulars of the bar fight and always did the same dance.

One man pulled back to hit another, and in doing so, he rammed his elbow into another man’s jaw. He stopped and apologized. The man who was hit waved him off with a laugh and laid down. Batty took that opportunity to pull him from the fight.

“Ma arms getting tired,” Battleax said to the man he was slapping. He tossed the man up and caught him in his right hand. He then went back to slapping the man now with his left hand. The man cried.

The dwarf and the elf soon tired and lay down, laughing. Rose moved in, pulling them to the side. One by one, more combatants "fell" in battle and were removed.

“What in the fifteen hells is going on?” Rose shouted.

“Bar fight!” Batty shouted as she pulled a paladin and a priest out of the fray, “These happen at least once a week.”

Rose grabbed a few more “fallen” and shook her head. Soon, only one man was standing with Battleax and the man he was holding up.

Battleax looked at the one man and shouted, “You want some of this!”

The man laughed and shouted, “Nope!” and fell to the floor.

A ding sounded, and Bat blew his whistle. Battleax halted mid-slap and gently set the man on his feet. Immediately, everyone scrambled to reorganize the tables and chairs. During the bar fight, Ax had lined up tankards of ale along the bar. Following his lead, Bat, Batty, and Rose started handing them out. The last two drinks given were to Battleax and the man who now sported well-defined handprints on both cheeks.

Battleax raised his tankard and helped the man raise his, exclaiming, “To a good bar fight!” he shouted. He released the man's arm, and everyone drank. The man attempted to drink but mostly failed. Everyone slammed down their tankard and shouted.

“One more round!” Battleax shouted as he returned to the kitchen, eliciting another round of cheers.

Rose and Batty sat down at their table. More wings and more ale were brought out. The elf sang, but Rose was not sober enough to understand the words, but she knew she loved the music. She tried to make a mental note to tell Richard they needed music, but her mental notes were drunk.

Later in the evening, the two friends stumbled down the road back to the cafe. Rose attempted to teach Batty an Orc drinking song, fumbling with the lyrics she needed help remembering. They laughed as they walked, eventually finding themselves back at the tent.

“Well, look at you two! Are you drunk?” Richard said.

“Yes!’ They both slurred.

“Bob!” Richard shouted, “Get those two some coffee.”

“Yay!” The two drunk women cheered.

“So, what did you two do?” Bob asked as he brought them coffee.

Rose and Batty looked at each other and giggled. Finally, they both held up their mugs and said together, “Bar fight!”

Rick ran over to them, examining Rose. “You hurt, Great Orc Rose?”

Rose leaned over and bopped Rick’s nose, “You are so cute, little cousin. From now on, you're going to call me just Rose. No more 'Great Orc' stuff."

Rick nodded in agreement. After gulping down her coffee and returning the mug to Bob, Rose scooped Rick into a hug and planted a kiss on him. Effortlessly, she hoisted him over her shoulder and strode out of the tent. "I'm off to snuggle my imp. Good night," she called back, leaving the Orcs surprised and a not-so-surprised Batty.

“Go, girl!” Batty shouted. She found a corner, curled up with her mug, and was fast asleep, snoring like an Orc.

Bob and Richard exchanged looks. Richard shrugged, and Bob rolled his eyes. Together, they resumed counting their gold, with Bob nearing a count of one hundred without starting over.