Nestled under the infamous Raven Mountains, the Sleeping Bear Tavern sits on the bank of a flowing stream, surrounded by fields of flowers and dark, endless forests that stretch on for miles. Above the tavern, the aurora watches gently, its green and purple dancing lights soothing the sky. Each night, when the sun sets behind the mountains, the land is dark and quiet. But, out on the hills, the warmth of the tavern can be spotted for miles by any traveller passing through.
Those who pass through this land are the types of people who would climb a mountain and have enough energy to face what lurks on the other side - adventurers. Those who carry swords, shields, maces, staffs, bows, gauntlets, and every other weapon the world could create. Those who give their lives to see what waits beyond the peaks of the Raven Mountains - a land of cruelty, death, loss, and sorrow. But these people don't cross the mountains to die watching the sunset. They cross to see the sunset on a new land. A charted land. But these brave souls don't just need to fulfil their heroic dreams. They also need to rest. To sleep, and rejuvenate, after many days or weeks or months of travelling for this very moment.
One of those travellers, named Furosin, entered the Sleeping Bear late in the evening. The sky was pastel pink and orange, and the sun could no longer be seen from behind the cliffs. This was the time when the tavern became the busiest. Throughout the day, travellers would come to have lunch, or put their feet up, and stay through the night. But most of them arrived as the sun set, and they came to have one last meal and sleep before the big day ahead of them.
Furosin was one of these travellers. He was a tauren, a race of man and minotaur hybrid that hailed from the dusty, rocky mountains of Karkolsa. As he stumbled through the door, he found himself a table at the end of the main room and threw his belongings to one side. He then marched up to the counter, his hoofs heavily hitting the floor, and was met with the young, smiling face of Elio Elborne.
The tavern was as busy as ever, with many tables alive with travellers playing games, chatting or taking a well-deserved nap. Some tables had large meals of meat, potatoes, bread and soup. Others stuck to their drinks. However, they all raised their heads to see the brute that Furosin was, and tried not to make too much eye contact.
"Hi there, welcome in. Can I offer you something to eat or drink? Or perhaps you'd like a room? We have many available upstairs," Elio said, and was met with a scowl.
"Just get me some ale. Oh, and a chicken if you have one. If not, I'll have whatever. Here," he said, chucking a handful of coins onto the counter so hard they rolled off its surface and onto the floor, falling through the small cracks in the wood.
"Of course, and will you be needing a room?" Elio replied.
"What do I look like? A wimp?"
Elio stopped polishing a glass and replied, "No, sir. Of course not. I'll be right back."
He walked out of the bar area and into the kitchen, which was alive with activity from the main chef, Oslo, who was also a Tauren, except Elio found this one much more pleasant. He sat on a stool and turned a large wooden spoon around in a cauldron of stew, before putting it to his tongue.
"Oslo. I need a chicken. As soon as you can," Elio said to him.
"A chicken? Like just a chicken? I can do. It will take a small while to cook."
Elio walked over to him, a panicked expression on his face. "Well, I don't have a small while. There's a Tuaren at the bar who looks like he wants to skin me alive."
"A Tauren? Don't see many of those around here. Except for my charming face, of course," he said, smiling, and awaiting an uproar of laughter from Elio. Instead, Elio frowned.
"Hardly. Now please, hurry."
"Yeah, yeah. I'll get him his chicken."
As Elio returned to the bar, he saw Furosin sitting on a stool at the end, with his back against one of the walls that split the bar in two. There, he was chugging down two three-pint glasses of ale, so desperately that it dripped down his chin and onto the floor.
"Another," he demanded, putting the empty glasses to the side.
"Of course! Coming right up!" Alessia said as she cracked open another four bottles of ale, and then pausing to cup her hands when Furosin chucked a couple more handfuls of coins at her. Elio watched as the other adventurers got up to leave, some leaving straight away and others standing their ground. The fact is, they were disgusted by the brute of a man who demanded everything they had to offer. Elio rushed over to Alessia, the barmaid, and pulled her to one side. He then turned to Furosin and said,
"Will just be one moment, Sir. Please, keep relaxing."
The Tauren huffed and stuck out his half a metre long tongue into one of the three-pint glasses to get the remains of the ale at the bottom.
"He's insane. We're losing customers as we speak," Elio said to Alessia as they went round the corner.
"I know, but he looked like he wanted to hurt me. Sorry, Elio, I couldn't do anything."
"No, don't apologise. You're just doing your job. We need to get him out of here, though. Or if not, maybe we can find a way to get him to accept an offer for a room tonight and send him upstairs. If not, I'll have to resort to my final option."
"What's the final option?" Alessia asked curiously.
"We have a tauren just as big as him in the back," Elio replied. He peeked around the corner and could see Furosin heckling a party of travellers for some of their food. "Damn, he's hungrier than he was when he first walked in. Now he's bothering some of the other tables. Where's Jari?"
"On the floor. Is she not sorting things out?" Alessia asked.
Elio peeked around the corner again, but saw no sign of the Dunari waitress. "No. Damn it. I'll have to go sort this out."
"But Elio, he'll hurt you! You're much smaller than he is."
"Who are you calling small?!" Elio exclaimed.
"No one. Just be careful," Alessia said. "I'll go see how Oslo is doing."
Elio nodded and went back to the main inn's sitting area, where Furosin was now grabbing what he pleased from the adventurers' tables. He was in the middle of tearing apart an entire hog belly that a customer had ordered just minutes ago, and Elio finally intervened.
"Sir, stop taking people's food, or I'm going to have to ask you to leave," he said, trying his best to sound both dominant yet polite.
"This brute has been stealing all of our food!" a knight at the same table said. "Get him out of here!"
Furosin turned to face the knight and let out an angry huff from his nostrils. "Who you calling a brute?! I could smash your head like a pumpkin with just my fist!"
He slammed his fists down onto the table, sending the food flying and causing the ground to shake as if an earthquake had just hit the area.
"Sir, leave, please. We don't allow this behaviour in our tavern," Elio said sternly. "If you're heading into the uncharted lands tomorrow, the last thing you need is a fight. Please, come rest at the bar. We can get you any food you like, within reason."
"NO!" the Tauren shouted. "You all bow to me. I am Furosin, killer of Heirs and rightful owner of the Uncharted lands!"
"No one owns the uncharted lands, you freak!" an archer said from across the room. "No one has ever returned!"
"I will! And when I come back, I will trample this place to the ground!" Furison yelled, hitting the floor with his hooves.
"Sir, please leave the Inn. And when you return, you can have anything you like. Even the building itself," Elio said, knowing that the tauren would likely not return, yet he wanted to feed into his beliefs.
"I'm not stupid. You're lying. You want me to die!" Furosin yelled, grabbing Elio by his shirt collar and holding him high in the air. The adventurers in the tavern panicked immediately, and some drew their weapons to face the tauren head-on. Behind the bar, Alessia rushed over, and she panicked, too, at the sight of Elio being held by his collar, his head nearly scraping the ceiling.
However, behind her, Oslo appeared from the kitchen, his sleeves rolled up, and his fists clenched.
"Put him down," he said fiercly.