“I guess I’ll give it a go,” he said, wiping the sweat off his palms with his robes. He heard the crowd heckle and jeer, but blocked it out. He went into this knowing full well he would lose. He just wanted to prevent was how bad that loss was.

“What gave ya the courage to step up?” Brilnia said. Her name, which he heard of in passing. “Yer missing a lot more than a few hairs from yer beard.”

“I might have had a bit too much to drink,” Aleister said, stretching the truth. Okay, maybe it was a straight up lie because he had drunk no alcohol quite yet.

She spat on the table before erupting in a roaring laughter. “Did yer really say, too much to drink?!”

He didn’t respond, but instead just looked at her with a wry look on his face.

“Not a talker? Don’t worry, I’ll make your defeat quick!” she said before resting her elbow on the table.

Aleister sat down and pushed his left leg against the table’s arm. He reached his arm out and gripped her hand, making sure he kept his wrist high and his knuckles facing upwards.

One of her supporters counted down from three as the match began.

She used all the force in her body to slam his arm down in the beginning, just like he expected. Being at such a disadvantage, he used the knowledge from what he observed earlier to balance out the playing field as much as he could. The explosive force was still difficult to deal with, even with all of them. As her hand pushed his arm down until it was just a few inches off the table. He hadn’t lost. He let out a sigh of relief and pulled her hand back until they reached a stalemate in the middle.

“Not bad for an elf,” she said.

“Thanks, I think? You’re much stronger than you look too,” he said.

After exchanging simple pleasantries, the struggle continued for another minute. Even though he was much larger in height and weight, she simply had him beat in pure muscle and strength due to him not having trained for long enough. “Why don’t we consider this a draw,” he suggested, struggling to get each word out.

“Fuck no!” she shouted back, once more showing an explosive display of strength. This time, the effect was much weaker.

Knowing full well he would lose sooner rather than later, he let go of his grip and pulled his arm back, all in one motion. “Fine, I concede.”

Her hand slammed down onto the table, causing the wood to splinter all the way across. She looked at him with widened eyes and her mouth slightly agape.

“I would like to keep my hand in one piece,” he said, shaking his arm around after standing up. “Well then, good fight. I probably won’t be seeing you anytime soon.”

The crowd stayed surprisingly silent as he walked back to the bar table. No doubt confused by his actions.

After a long and drawn-out yawn, Aleister sat back down in a corner seat as someone occupied his previous one. With impeccable timing, the bartender placed his meal in front of him. He could feel the heat of the dish just from the steam touching his nose, although it didn’t carry any other smell besides one of pastry and onion. Although, that should be expected.

He sipped on some of his drink and ended up taking a big gulp instead. Contrary to expectations, the taste was quite light and crisp, with an odd note of the bitter hops coming out in between the otherwise citrus tang.

“You know,” Syn said, “This isn’t sticking to your diet.”

Aleister wiped away the foam from his lips. “I’ve been eating the same food for two months now! Do you know how painful that has been for me? And you didn’t say an entire word that entire time and when you do it’s criticizing me?”

“You should be used to it,” she said. “My statement answers both of your questions by the way.”

“I am, which is why I haven’t broken it until now. Besides, just because I’m used to something doesn’t make the suffering any better,” he said before taking another sip.

“You can say that again,” Syn said with a sigh.

“Now if only I wasn’t so broke, I would spend all of my money on food like this every day,” he said, raising his voice, slumping his body and resting his chin on his hand. All in an exaggerated fashion.

“Why would anyone in their right mind believe you didn’t have money after that display?”

“Because, the sad and ironic thing is, I really am broke now,” he said with a laugh.

Another tankard of the ale slammed down. “This one is on the house.”

“Now that was unexpected,” Aleister said, thanking him.

He pressed his fork into the golden crust of the pie. Light flakes cracked off. Congealed inside was a thick brown filling, with small yellow strands of onion poking out. Aleister blew several cold breaths on the piece as he sectioned off with his fork and then took a bite.

“They somehow created one of the least visually appealing dishes imaginable,” Syn said. “How does it taste?”

“Hey you!” said a muffled and nondescript voice in the background.

With a grin, Aleister said while still chewing on his food, “Like I’m about to gain at least ten pounds tonight.”

“Which is exactly why you shouldn’t eat any in the first place.”

“I heard you needed money,” said the same voice, this time a little bit louder.

“Just try some,” he waved a piece of the pie in the air, “I bet that you will change your mind real quick.”

“I won’t,” Syn said, turning her head the other way.

Aleister shrugged and took another bite.

“Do you think this is some kind of joke?” a voice said, this time from directly behind him.

“Hm,” he asked, fork still in his mouth, “Oh, were you talking to me?”