The Gwackmung Tavern

It was aproaching late afternoon when Dalf got his first look at the city of Toreen. After three weeks of trudging barefoot through the Worldsedge mountains his muscles ached with every forward step and the sight of civilization he let out a huge sigh and crashed to the ground to rebandage his wounded feet. As he tore up the last of his cloak for bandages the scent of cooking meats and breads stuck him in his empty stomach like a giant fist.

“I’m gonna eat five hogs, two deer, and a full barrel of ale.” Dalf grumbled hungrilly to himself as he hoisted the large sack of artifacts over his well muscled arm. A few miles later Dalf had finally entered the outskirts of the city and after asking a few shop owners for directions he learned that the best place to go in the city was the Gwackmung Tavern. The one thing that he didnt understand was the secretive smiles that the shop owners had when they thought he wasnt looking. “Ah who cares, I’m to hungry to worry about that, especially if you get to slaughter your own.”

Remenoga stood proudly at the doorstep of his tavern admiring the new eight foot copper “G” that he had smashed into the roof that morning. As he looked around at the people of the city he noticed a particularly large fellow (for a human) stumbling twords the tavern with a large sack over one arm. “Hmm he should make it just in time for brawl hour.”

As Dalf neared the Gwackmung tavern he noticed that instead of a traditional storefront sign it had an enormous copper “G” mounted on the roof so that it could be seen from all corners of the city. “Wow it must have taken ten men to haul that up there” Dalf thought to himself as he neared the tavern. Ten steps later he changed his mind when he noticed the huge figure standing outside the front door grinning at him, “Have I got something stuck to my head, why is everyone grinning at me like that” thought Dalf.

The figure infront of him was nearly eleven feet tall, fourteen if you counted the impressive red mohawk that sprouted from his huge grinning head. “Oh my god, he’s not grinning he’s got no lips”, after this startling revelation he noticed that from under the large blood stained apron sprouted arms and legs as thick and heavily scarred as any he had ever seen. He barely had time to notice these few things when with blinding speed the giant grabbed him by the head and threw him roughly into the tavern where he was promptly hit over the head with a table. The last thing he heard as he slipped into uncontiousness was “BRAWL HOUR ! HA HA HA ha ………”