Level 15 - Grand Lord King Master of Wordsmithy
Trouble follows some people wherever they go. I follow that trouble and make sure those people don't make anymore trouble. It ain't easy, but someone's got to do it.
'Bristlebane ale. Tall.'
Mathus looked up. He didn't recognize the man ordering, but he seemed the type: muscles beneath a layer of fat, a snarling expression with most of his teeth missing, fists like summer hams. 'You want it in a bottle?'
'From the tap.'
Mathus nodded. 'This way,' he said, stepping from behind the bar and into the back room, the 'customer' following.
A fresh-faced young man sitting at the bar looked around, confused. 'Bristlebane? Sounds adventurous.'
'You couldn't handle it, son,' an older man said from across the plank bar with a hint of derision. 'It'd right kick your ass.'
Failure. For most, it is an occasional streak of bad luck to be suffered. For others... well, it's a living.