Haddock drinks in the common room, trying to forget about the annoying servant girl who bothered him earlier. A drunkard named Asvard in the bar provokes Haddock, instigating a bar fight between them. Both of them are thrown out of the inn, although the serving girl Mera convinces her father to let Haddock remain an inn guest anyway.
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Gareth Ragnar Haddock the Second: He wasn’t sure what number of drink this was, but he ordered it anyway. Haddock needed it after the ridiculous incident with that stupid servant girl. At least she was letting him alone… for now. He worried what the morning would bring… at least as much as his head could worry, in this state. He felt… a little odd.
Trying to forget that, he took a big swallow from his mug.
Asvard: another drunken man was watching this lad drink, trying to keep track of the amount of times that he ordered a drink but it was nigh impossible. the man turns to someone and whispers quite loudly “I bet that lads going to run away with the barman’s daughter tomorrow” and lets out a hearty drunken laugh.
Gareth Ragnar Haddock the Second: That was enough abuse for one night. First that stupid serving girl, and now this man insulting him. Haddock pulled himself to his feet and pointed straight at the man with the intent to lecture him on his rudeness.
“How dare you,” Haddock said, poking him straight in the chest accusingly. “That’s outright spedicable what’shu said. You know nothing, absolutely Digga framned NOTHING about the two of us.” He paused, asthough thinking about something profound. “About me,” he said at last.
He seemed completely, utterly unaware that he was disturbingthe common room atmosphere. The ex-prince stood somewhat loosely for him, but he still kept his left hand pointed directly at that man’s chest. “I am an honor of man,” he growled seriously, too concentrated on staring intensely at the drunk to realize he switched his words. “Rather unlike you…” he paused cumbersomely again “…whose insudorbinate brashness extends to levels you insult people at random. What makes ‘shu some entitled expert to… to insult people?! Don’t… DO… that.”
Asvard: the man, not having much of a conscience due to the blood in his alcohol stream. Looked at the angry drunk before him and laughed, joking “laddie, i know what the eyes of a flirt look like when i see straight into ‘em. And you have the eyes that every woman falls in love with. She’s gonner be with yer by the time yer leave this village wether ye like it, or not” he was now waving his head about mockingly and making kissy faces childishly.”
Gareth Ragnar Haddock the Second: "You… are… perberverted. I’m not doing any such thing. You take that back, or I’ll… I’ll…” Haddock’s mind felt stupidly blank, lacking ideas on what exactly he would do to this offender.
Asvard: "ye’ll do what? exactly?" said the man and stood up "are you going to punch me in the face? i bet yer one’a dose li’le men, who couldn’ break a flower." he said mockingly.
Gareth Ragnar Haddock the Second: As a response, Haddock pulled up his fist and socked the man STRAIGHT in the face.
Asvard: The man staggered backwards and fell over his chair, he had just been punched! He reaches up and feels his nose, just as he expected, blood. The man got up and rode to his full height, not much difference between the two, but still noticeable. He then proceeded to grab Haddock and throw him into a table a few feet away. Resulting in an all out bar fight.
Gareth Ragnar Haddock the Second: The room exploded into shouts as Haddock found himself hurling uncontrollably into a table. His head smacked hard against the wood, blacking his vision for an instant. With an angry groan he staggered to his feet, rushing at the man again to exchange more blows. This time he targeted the man’s legs, kicking at him and knocking him at the knees. Somehow both of them tumbled to the ground and not just his opponent.
And then something - someone - was yanking at the back collar of Haddock’s shirt. He struggled to punch whoever meant to manhandle him. A pair of thick hands grabbed and secured his wrists instead. Haddock was yanked to his feet by two large men - bouncers, most likely - who dragged him unsympathetically toward the inn’s exit.
"Geddoff of me! Geddoff!" he protested, struggling. They threw him outside into the dark, cold night. Haddock tried to catch himself, but with the momentum found himself face plant ungraciously into a snowbank.
Asvard: The man got up and looked at the ex-prince “hey, meet me in my house later, i want to talk to you” he says and starts stumbling home, singing some odd slurred song.
Gareth Ragnar Haddock the Second: Even as Haddock was trying to remove snow from his reddened face, a voice behind him snorted, “Wow. That’s not very proper for someone who’s supposed to be royalty.”
Haddock used the snow he wiped off his cheeks to quickly pack and clumsily hurl a snowball at the speaker. It was that serving girl from earlier. She had walked out of the common room and was staring at him with eyes way too acute for her childhood. The snowball splat against her aprons, yet she hardly seemed to care.
"D’you miiiiind," Haddock groaned. "Shuddup."
"This is actually really pathetic," the girl in her high-pitched voice chirped judgmentally. "You can hardly even talk." She squinted her eyes, examining him as he staggered from the snowbank. "And you’re walking’s not much better either. Deities, what a mess. You really did deserve to be kicked out of the common room."
Haddock immediately flew on the defensive. “I didn’t deserve to be insulted by that…” He pointed furiously in the direction the other drunkard had left.
"Oh whatever." The serving girl rolled her greenish eyes expressively. "You still deserved it."
He fumed from where he stood… well, he was more of wavering, careening like an unstable tower.
"But I’m not letting you go that easy. I’m gonna talk to Pa. Convince you to stay in the inn anyway even though he just threw you out. Y’know, maybe he’ll just keep you in your room and not down in the common room where you might disturb the peace more."
Haddock wanted to yell at her with most of his mind for that casual insult, but a small part of rationality behind the fuzz of alcohol realized she was helping him. He just stared at her, blinking, trying to process her words.
"So you stay there, idiot," she said. "I’m getting Pa."
A long moment later, a plump, balding innkeeper ushered Haddock indoors, looking rather displeased as he and his daughter hastily helped their patron up the stairs to his room. It was a small room - only to be expected for a rural inn - but it would certainly be better than that snowbank. The innkeeper hurried wordlessly out of the room as soon as Haddock stepped inside, and so did Mera, but the latter returned a moment later holding a bucket in her hand a moment later.
"You’re going to need this," she said, handing Haddock the bucket with more than a little disapproval clouding her irises. When the young man continued staring at her, baffled, she sighed, crossed her arms, and said, "You really don’t expect everything you drank tonight to stay in your stomach, do you?"
With that she heaved one more sigh, said, “Don’t make me regret vouching for you to stay,” and then shut the door behind her.
Haddock found himself making friends with the wooden bucket a moment later.