Bugman

  Braziers lined the great hall in such numbers that it was a wonder the whole hold hadn't burned down. the typical standards of clan heraldry where absent, replaced by enormous shields with symbols and ancestral rune weapons about them. at the center of the hall sat the King, Lord Baraz Torcrest. The axe at his side constantly burned with runed fury, and silhouetted his scarred face grimly. he sat stroking his char-black beard for some time. the hall, despite being over populated, was silent but for the crackle of numerous fires.
  "Master Bugman," he finally said, leaning forward on his throne, "what you say is true, this hold does owe you a great debt. But what you ask is simply impossible. i have few enough warriors to defend my home from the grobi, elgi, and vermin as it is. i cannot fund your war."
  Josef clenched his fist. had his head not been bowed, the king would have viewed a face broken with fury. "my lord," he said between clenched teeth. the king cut him off.
  "still your tongue, brew master." though he said it kindly enough, the threat inherent was obvious. "i have decided that this decision cannot be made by one king. i therefore leave it to the gods. may grungi show us the way. it will be a game of chance and skill that we shall play to determine what course to take." the king stood from his throne and grasped his axe firmly before beating it into the ground. those watching began to cheer at the prospect of entertainment. "a most noble game, the oldest and most telling! Beer Pong."
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  Bugman looked up at the crowd, all cheering and calling out to them. he stood at one end of what clearly was a sporting arena, or perhaps a gladiator's square. a moat of molten metal surrounded the stage, save for the bridge he stood upon and one at the opposite end. just in the middle sat a long table, carved neatly of stone to depict battles being fought in flames.
the doors at the other end of the ring openned and the crowd grew louder. from high above, a booming voice called out.
  "Ladies and gentlemen, shake your beards for Karak Norn's finest! welcome to the ring, apprentice runesmith, master tosser, and one fiesty ball of fire, Magda Hearthstone!" a woman walked through the doors, wearing the garb of a smith, as if she'd been pulled right off of her anvil the be here. her face was a mask of determination, obscured only slightly by her mess of fiery red hair.
  "And now," the announcer continued, "make some noise for the Defender of Hearthhome, the slayer of the molten feind, the leader of your very own Ironbreakers, Captain Brom Torcrest!" the crowd grew to near defening levels as a dwarf in polished black armor walked through the doors. unlike Magda, he addored the attention, spending more time waving to the crowd and blowing kisses that anything else.
  "royalty," Norn said quietly. the danger was implied.
  "Now, Master Bugman, choose your team!"
  Bugman looked up to the box where King Torcrest sat, next to him the announcer ushered the audiance's view to the brew master and his men. he turned and looked his men over. "Deepmug," he said, "do you know how your father got that name?"
  the barman only responded with a surprised look.
  "they say he beat my old man at the table. i sure hope you can live up to his example."
  with that, bugman grabbed Durgham's wrist and pulled him out into the arena, raising both of their hands in solute to the crowd. they both bowed dutifully toward the king, before turning to their opponents.
  the Torcrest prince drew off the last of his mug's contents before slamming it on the table with a wipe of his chin. the black iron was worked beautifully into images of his victories. Josef followed suit, placing his mug upon the table. Magda unhooked her tankard from her belt, setting it on the table all the while staring Durgham down. Josef noted the runes inscribed in her vessel. Durgham nervously unhooked his tankard, and put it next to Bugman's. my comparison, his average tavern mug looked painfully absent of adornment.
  a tray was brought out to each side with eight more mugs and several pitchers. the mugs were arranged on each side, and each was filled with brew. bugman's nose twitched.
  "i should have known," he said to no one in particular, "he's getting out of his debt with the beer that put him there in the first place."
  "what do you mean?" asked durgham.
  josef looked up at the dwarf as if he'd forgotten he was there before settling back on the mugs. " this is a special brew i made thirty some years ago for the king's coronation. Norn's own brew." he said no more, as two more trays were brought out, each with a bowl of flaming balls. "this is going to be difficult"
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