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A Fist to the Jaw

A sharp jolt to the shank sends a startled and disoriented Nylus to the ground in a heap, one foot’s heel hanging onto the edge of the table at which his head lay rest a moment ago.

“Get the hell up Nyl, it’s nearing morn and I’ve got sheep to shear before the early drunks find their way into the door.”

“You don’t have any sheep Mia” grumbled Nylus, as he shifts his haunches that still haven’t quite woken up yet.

“Doesn’t matter, I’ve things to do and I won’t have you in the way. A friend of yours is outside waiting.”

Nyl’s left eye opens wide as he raises a hand to shield it against the morning sun.

“I have no friends, besides you of course.”

Nyl manages to clamber up, knocking over an almost-empty mug in the process, furthering the disapproving look from Mia.

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“Did they give you a name?” questions Nyl.

“No, and I didn’t ask. Now get up before I shear you instead of the sheep.”

“But, you don’t have…”

Mia slaps Nyl across his top half with a towel as he manages to gain the balance to move. She slaps him again, and he loses whatever balance he gained and topples into another table, knocking down more mugs. Protecting himself from the barrage of attacks, he shuffles towards the door and stumbles through. Once again, Nyl loses the last of his balance and falls face first off the top of the two-step entrance into the dirt at the bottom.

Besides the throbbing pain from his head taking the brunt of the fall, Nyl had escaped Mia’s wrath. He lay there for a moment, expecting more fury to follow - but the only thing that followed was his saber clanging onto the ground beside him. He looked up and adjusted his eyesight to the morning light. Pushing off of his forearms, Nyl finally manages to find his footing and gain some semblance of composure. He picks up his blade and fastens the holster to his belt, adjusting his buckles and crotch gracelessly.

Nyl brushes his face down with his hand and looks around for a moment, and besides the passersby, there is one man standing about two feet to his right - staring directly at him.

“Can I help y...”

And with that, Nyl takes an unforeseen fist to the right jaw and everything goes black.

(unfinished)