Yawn sat at the back table of the tavern. Drinking his drink, smoking his pipe. The mead was flowing just fine that night. The younglings had been given leave to take the name they choose, and more importantly, Yawn was now free of the good awful long named imposed on him as a protection to confuse and confound those thing that creep int he night and happily drag off the young. Yawnrick Eix Nifflem Longfang… Where did his mother even find that many letters to string together. The bar was full of younglings like Yawn. All eager to start the trails. But unlike yawn most all of them had the eyes or had the fangs come in. Yawn had neither as of yet.
A trio at the bar start in on it. Drunk… Very very drunk the three of them. One start in “Hey why do you think Yawnricks not come into the eyes or even the fangs yet?” The second ” Poor luck.” The third “or poor blood in his father line perhaps she didn’t choose so well. YAWN what you do you think.”
“I think I will say when I finish my pipe an my mead.” Yawn manged flatly with only a tinge of irritation. “hmph the way he smokes we’d be waiting all night.” Thing went on that way, the trio gossiping loudly, forgetting about Yawn entirely. Then the one in the middle piped up once more. “Do you think mayhap it isn’t to do with Yawn at all, maybe it to do with who or what his mother choose, maybe she laid with a human or a syndar” The taunt went on but Yawn had stop listening right then. Yawns father had bested four warriors hand to hand to convince his mother he was worthy of being chosen. Four warriors of her choosing. Victories that has not come easily. Kragen and Harlok two among the four, both had broken ribs, Kragen had disjointed his shoulder, and he’d chipped a fang in one the bought, and could not speak as Harlok broke his jaw in the last bought. His father manged it in one night and It took three months to recover from the bought all told. Three months. Yawn was Longfang through and through.
Yawn quietly emptied and filled his pipes bowel. Downed his mug of mead, and very quietly strode over to the trio, tapping the center youth on the shoulder. And as he turned Yawn loosed a sucker punch so vicious it drew blood and cracked the center youths fang. His friend to the left raised his heavy tankard to bring it down across Yawns head, but he was seated, he could not move as fast. Yawn saw the arm and what it held, he slid his arm up the seated youths shoulder and cupped his hand at the back of his neck trapping arm, and with all his weight brought head down against the bar in a savage arch. Yawn brought his head down another two times, with less force but the first seemed to of had the desired effect of putting the second out of the fight. Though that was when things stopped going so well for Yawn. There was a crash and his vision swam , some had struck him int he back hard. Very hard. Yawn spun a bit more slowly, but the strike had only served to fuel Yawns anger. The third being bright, or perhaps just having much more time to react then his friends had shattered a stool over Yawns back. Yawn leapt at him and the fight went to the ground, the third beat at yawn with the former stool leg. In the end, yawn slipped to his back and levered the club against his foes neck choking him senseless.
His eyes still blurry, he checked that he hadn’t over held the choke… It took three minutes time he’d been told all his life but Gaia help him if he’d killed another youngling. No kill breathing just fine. Good.
Yawn stumbled back to his table, filled his pipe, lit it from the tables candle and drew deeply. He scooped up his mug and limped to the bar. “He going to live?” the keep asked. “They’ll remember tonight but all be fine in a few days. Well swore but fine. Make it a full mug, the priestess will not be best pleased with my defense of my mothers good name… like to be my last for some time…” Yawn sighed, drew on his pipe, and waited for the guards that would by now be a very short time from he tavern door… He’d accept he punishment. Whatever it was, this had been wrong. If he’d of called for a duel they may of cowered and backed down, and that would be the end of it, or beaten one senseless and be done with it. Now he’d beaten all three senseless, and was none the better for it. “This is going to be a long week..” Yawn muttered at the guards crossed the threshold and he downed his mead. Of course right then Yawn couldn’t know how right he would be.
Two of the Onsallas village guards walked into the tavern connected to the longhouse. They had heard the commotion and stepped inside to see what was going on. They surveyed the scene and instantly knew that words and then fists were exchanged. Yawn was quietly drinking his mead, and it was obvious what had happened.
The guards moved towards Yawn deliberately but not threateningly, knowing he would comply and serve his punishment.
“Alright Yawn, I know Stanrick can get into some trouble, but this is new…” said the Longfang guard as he grabbed Yawn’s arm and slowly began to pull him away from the bar.
The guards hadn’t noticed a figure had walked up behind the two of them until an armor clad gauntlet reached out and grasped the shoulder of one the guards. The act was instantly regarded as hostile, as interfering with the village guards is a serious offense.
“Don’t interfere with our duties! You want to join him in the stocka….” said the guard whose voice was quickly cut short. He had turned as he spoke, until he locked gaze with Harlok Longfang, the Ulven who had interrupted them. Harlok’s piercing lupine eyes summed up the guard and his quiet and stone still pose had been enough to silence the guard. The younger guard was confused and not sure what to do next.
Harlok’s gaze then went to the three bloodied whelps on the floor, then up to Yawn, who sat quietly and bloodied a bit himself. It was obvious that Yawn had defeated the three younglings and then waited for his punishment.
Harlok walked over close to Yawn and grabbed his wrist, raising it up and pointing towards his bicep. Yawn looked confused, until Harlok then pointed at the three younglings on the tavern floor. Yawn nodded… and Harlok grinned. With a bit of surprise, Harlok reached out and clasped Yawn’s forearm in a sign of respect and nodded in approval.
Harlok then turned and locked eyes with the two guards, who still stood their confused. Harlok pointed at the two guards, then to the three younglings, and then motion outside. He punctuated this fact with a deep growl and a bearing of fangs.
The guards complied and scooped up the worst of the the younglings and dragged them outside. Harlok then strode out of the bar and left Yawn there in silence.