The Conflict Era,

Local Inn of Hanford.

With a slight gait, an injured man sauntered into the Inn at Hanford; he clutched his left hand to his stomach from which blood had got his wear soaked. He was in his early twenties which only meant one glaring possibility – picking fights was commonplace for a person of his age.

He turned a few heads toward him as soon as he stepped through the cringing door, one that had made his appearance more unwelcomely than he would have liked himself. For a moment, the music faded and so did the voices of the chatterboxes. A tad relieved that he wasn’t in any immediate danger from the men who only gazed at him with surprise, he found his way to the bar to get a drink – he craved one badly, perhaps because none of the men at the Inn recognised him or because he needed it to quench his thirst.

“So, what will it be?” the barmaid asked suspiciously.

“Soda Water, please,” he replied.

“Soda Water…. that’s your poison?” she laughed, bemused.

“What of it?” he wondered, dazed.

“You just didn’t look like the type that’s all” she replied, defending herself.

She retrieved the tonic for him, from a lower shelf and poured it into a large pint. His gaze remained on her face as she extended the drink to him. He ruffled through his pockets for money, barely enough to pay her off.

“We don’t get new faces around here. What’s your name fella?” she enquired.

“My name…” he thought to himself for a moment, weighing the significance of his response. He grinned lightly. “I guess it’s time to change it.” As he smiled, one of his molars was revealed to be missing from his mouth. “Croid”, he replied confidently. If only the barmaid knew his real name, prior to him just changing it now – was Melthos.

“Well Croid, it’s nice to meet you. My name is Felicity,” she greeted, giggling. She extended a hand toward him which he hesitated before gripping it in his. He glanced about the room, somewhat flustered due to some undefined state of paranoia. Felicity shook his hand vigorously, just so he might remember he was still holding it. “Likewise,” he replied, abashed.

Meanwhile, staring sharply at him across the other side of the bar was a woman who appeared elegantly dressed. Her air of haughtiness showed she was quite affluent too. She seemed to be seated all by herself, favouring no virtual company. Her burning gaze was fixated on him. He frowned, wondering what her deal could be: could she be after me? He pondered. He quickly averted her gaze from her predatory stare, which was the least he could do for himself. Just to get his mind off whatever could be upsetting him, the barmaid engaged him in the ways of the bar, explaining how the bar was run to him. He seemed keenly interested – heck, he was ready to do anything just to keep both of them talking.

“Here you’ll find I pretty much run the place. Well I do most of the work you see. The owners pretty much live off my hard work. There’s no way they could ever replace someone who could run it like I can,” Felicity bickered.

Melthos was intrigued by her sheer confidence, her charisma and self-respect. He asked her some questions about the area albeit he was really interested in finding out whether the place would be quite accommodating toward strangers.

“You knowing of any jobs going on around here?” he asked.

“The mine’s the main trade. You should speak to the Himuras, they’ll get you set up for work straight away. Heck, I’ll even speak to them for you; they pretty much own half of this place anyhow” Felicity advised.

“Wow, thanks I guess!” a jubilant Croid who did not expect her to be so helpful exclaimed.

“You look like you’ve come a long way. Have you got a place to stay?” asked Felicity, a bit concerned.

“No, not yet” replied Croid. “And I ain’t got no money neither,” he quickly added, just so she might understand that he was insinuating he couldn’t afford to stay the night.

She gave him a cheeky smile as she stared deep into his eyes while she bent down slowly, revealing her buxom breasts as she leaned on the table with one arm forward.

“I’m sure we can come to some other arrangement” she whispered.

“Well hot damn…”

Croid whistled to himself; he’s had his eyes elsewhere all day mindless of the beauty that had been talking to him. He’d only now succumbed to her lustful seductions.

“I’m sure we can,” he responded, his eyebrows arched. She pretended to retrieve a new jug from one of the shelves while in real truth all she intended was for him to catch a lingering glimpse of her other endowments. She then sashayed away from him, on her way to serve another customer. Croid couldn’t deny it was his first time a lady would be so forward, flirtatiously.

“I might actually like this place” Croid says in a settling tone.

Later that night, the Inn bar eventually closed leaving the two to embrace a night of lustful passion.