Nabal stood outside the pub in the shadows with his dark hood pulled over his head. His dark eyes reflected the light of the lanterns lit inside. His breathing was slow and steady his palm resting on the oversized hilt of the curved dagger tucked in his broad leather belt. His eyes carefully took in each and every member inside the pub. Years living on the streets had taught him great caution. He watched the men gambling at the corner table in the back. A game of runes. A dangerous game. Each member began the game by cutting their palm with a blade and rolling the runes in their bloodied hand. Every rune was unique and one wrong toss could cost you your life. They would play until one man had all the coins at the table.

A high stakes game, where often at least one man would take his last breath at the table usually by the blade of one of the large men standing off to the sides of the table with their arms crossed. A game where nearly every man attempts a cheat but only one with great skill at sleight of hand could accomplish it. It required a second set of runes to cheat, a deal of steel nerves, and some form of distraction. The game was said to be infallible. The toss of the runes was said to be determined by the Ancient of Days himself. The king of all the Gods. Nabal scratched his beard as he watched a nervous man sitting at the table preparing to throw his first set of runes. He let his eyes wander to each of the men at the table.

One at the table stood out more than the rest to Nabal. He sipped his drink slowly and had eyes sharp as daggers. He was the eldest of the group which meant he was either a very successful player or an old fool who had given up on this life. Nabal saw him often at this table. The careful way the man watched the others ruled out the latter. Most likely he had the judges on his payroll. How he had convinced the three fools sitting at the table with him to try him on the game was a feat. Surely one of them had betrayed the man in some form and agreed to a test of runes hoping for lucky rolls to hide their guilt from him.

Once he discovered the guilty party, they would not get a second blink of their eyes before the burly judge standing nearest them around the table slit their throat at the table. Among the Crull were many fools testing the limits of their own fate. Who would be foolish enough to sit down to a test of runes with the Myaru? There were no Crull more dangerous than them.

Another man to be cautious of was Meat, he sat right at the bar slugging back drinks in single large gulps. The big island of a man was as frequent a visitor to the pubs as was Nabal. Nabal had more than one up close and personal with that man. It always ended with Nabal in the gutter bloodied and wishing he had not been born.

The man had a large black bushy beard and a single missing front tooth. Apparently, one adversary had gotten in one good shot. Meat kept his hair braided down his back a thing Nabal had tried to take advantage of in one fight only to end up with a broken forearm from the very angry and very big man. Nabal intended to keep his distance tonight. Meat already had the fire in his eyes from too many hard drinks, all he needed was the reason.

The rest of the patrons were either too drunk or of seemingly little possible threat to Nabal. Nabal pulled his bow off his back and tossed it on the roof with his arrows, he couldn’t risk breaking them in a pub fight. He would retrieve them when he sobered up. He slid his cover from his head and stepped through the door and into the chaotic ruckus.

Women danced erratically wearing too little leather and stinking of too strong of fragrance. Though Nabal gave one red-haired woman a look over and continued to the bar. Heavy drums played in the corner near the entrance with energetic flutes carrying the melody. The band would get free drinks and likely a woman by the end of the night. The bar manager watched from up the stairs with a couple of large men to help him bring down any excessive disorder.

Each of the large men at his sides had clubs and swords to use at their discretion. Nabal looked away from them to the woman behind the counter. She was as dark-skinned as the leather sown so tightly to her. Her eyes were as green as the grass against the plum horizon and her hair as long as a horse’s mane.

She was one of the reasons Nabal frequented this pub more often than the rest. She was also why he often became so foolish with much drink and wound up with black eyes. She was Meat’s girl. He nearly forgot his earlier resolve not to cross Meat when he laid eyes on her. He had not yet drunk away his wit yet, so he kept his composure.

“Two flasks of mead Minna.” At the sound of his voice, her eyes landed directly on him as did Meat’s. “One for me and one for your husband of course.”

Her eyes darted to the bar manager, then her husband. “You know Meat drinks are free here.” She spoke quiet enough that the bar manager could not hear. Meat clenched his fist, his fingers popping, and rested his knuckles on his knee leaning forward. He narrowed his eyes at Nabal.

“And each of the other pubs in Crull district,” Nabal mumbled to himself referring to the other bar maidens Meat went to visit.

Minna raised her eyebrows at Nabal. “I didn’t catch that.”

Nabal glanced over at the table of runes and saw the player to the left was beginning to get rather shifty and eying the door. Nabal cleared his throat and grabbed his Adam's apple. “Sorry my throat is rather dry, I said to give the other one to chubby over there.” He gestured with his head toward the rune table. He felt a measure of pity for the portly fool. He couldn’t imagine how the man had gotten himself into his predicament but assumed this would be his last drink.

Minna eyed him suspiciously and poured two flasks handing one to another bar maiden making her rounds through the crowd of sloppy drunks. With a short statement, the woman nodded and turned to plot out the safest route back through the crowd without wearing the mead she carried.

Minna slid the drink down to Nabal as she walked toward him. She kept her hand on the drink and looked him over. “You do have the coin?” She raised her eyebrows again. Nabal raised his left palm from the bar revealing the two coppers laying on the counter. Minna swiped the coin from the counter. “No mischief from you tonight. Keep your hands and your witty tongue under the eye of the Ancient tonight.”

“I wouldn’t even fathom charming you, tonight,” Nabal spoke soft enough that Meat could not hear. “Not with Meat sitting right there.” He winked at her with the eye not facing her boyfriend.

“I mean it Nabal. He is going to really hurt you or even kill you one day and for what a bit of foolish flirting? You know I’m with him. I love Meat and there are plenty of beautiful women here for you to practice your silver tongue on.” Minna gestured behind him.

Nabal turned on his stool and saw the redhead again. He leaned in closer and whispered, “What is his real name.” Meat stood at his end of the bar at that point and Nabal sat back quick and diverted his eyes from Minna back to the redhead standing near the bar. “My favorite song.” He said loudly raising his flask high above his head and bouncing on his toes to the beat as he made his way to introduce himself to red. Nabal kept Meat in his peripheral until the mountain sat back down on his stool.

Nabal had to step around a frail older man at a table to get near to Red. She stood near the table with a pair of other young women thrashing their hair in circular motions in an attempt to keep up with the erratic beat of the drums. Nabal found the dancing of foreign women to be ridiculous. The frail old man was shouting over the music at two other men at the table with him as Nabal passed. The other two were laughing at him hysterically though the old man's veins were sticking out of his neck and his face said whatever he was telling them was a serious matter and not a joke.

“What is your name?” Nabal leaned into Red’s ear and raised his voice so she could hear him.

She smiled and spoke loudly in his ear. “Adah.” She leaned back and began dancing again.

Nabal followed suit. “I don’t believe I have seen you here before.”

“I haven’t been here. I am from the plains.”

“What brings you to Windal then?” Nabal was suddenly jabbed by the old man at the table as he swung his arm frantically to point.

“I am telling you,” The old man slurred obviously drunk. “I saw the light of the little watchers by the cliffs in the forest. Mischievous little devils stole my rump sack.”

Nabal could tell that Adah was answering his previous question, so he nodded as if he was truly listening. The old man's conversation was really what caught his ear though.

“Why didn’t you sing the song then?” One of the old man’s mockers chided sarcastically. The two men began laughing so hard that spit dropped into their beards and tears formed in the corners of their eyes.

“Are you even listening?” Adah asked breaking Nabal’s focus.

“Ah sorry.” Nabal grinned the other men continued mocking the old man. “I was actually sent over here to give you this.” Nabal handed her the drink. “See that big man sitting at the bar?”

Adah looked over his shoulder. “He really wants to make your acquaintance. He’s a big fella but has the heart of a pup. Such a sweet, sweet guy really,” Nabal hung his head in such a way to show what he was about to say was sad but true. “He’s really shy.” Red glanced over his shoulder at Meat and appeared intrigued. Nabal did not hear her reply because he overheard the old man talking again and wanted to hear his response. Adah brushed past him and Nabal continued to dance to conceal his eavesdropping.

“I dropped my other pack and ran for my life. These were not the good ones. They were the wicked ones every one of them. Imps. I saw them up close.” The old man shifted his chair back and Nabal glanced back over his shoulder. The old man lifted his leg to show his bare foot to the other men at the table. “I ran right out of my boot too.”

Nabal saw the chubby man stand suddenly at the table in the corner. He had thrown his last rune. One of the judges stepped up behind the man and grabbed his forehead with the palm of his hand. The other arm reached around the chubby man to slit his throat.

Nabal saw the bar maiden arriving at the table at that same moment. The shock on her face at the spray of blood was quickly masked and she sat the flask on the table pointing to Nabal and saying something to the older man still sitting calmly at the table.

The man looked up into Nabal’s eyes. Nabal froze. What timing. He could tell the chubby fella was guilty by his behavior. He had only sent him one last pity drink before his demise. Now looking back, he hadn’t thought that one through. His foolish sense of humor. Perhaps he was feeling too good to be at his favorite pub. Over cheerfulness often caused him to make as many foolish mistakes as too much drink.

Nabal locked eyes with the older man at the table and then up at the bar manager. It was unfortunately time for him to make his exit, but he would not leave his bow on the roof. He had known before he entered the pub that the judges were likely well-trained mercenaries. Likely formerly of the secret army of the king. Highly dangerous. More dangerous than even Meat. They wouldn’t simply rough him up and leave him bleeding in the street.

He dashed past Adah still making her way to Meat at the bar and shoved some drunk men out of his way and into the way of the now approaching judges. He ran up the stairs two at a time. The bar manager’s guard stepped over to the top step and began to draw his blade dropping his club and choosing a more fatal weapon. He had perceived Nabal’s radical behavior as a serious threat.

Nabal grabbed the man’s wrist and spun tugging him off balance as he swung down at Nabal. The man fell down the stairs and became another obstacle for the rune judges making their way up behind Nabal. Nabal used his element of surprise to blast past the remaining two directly through the bar manager’s private quarters.

A woman screamed in the bed and pulled the blanket up to her chest as she sat up. Nabal bounded off the foot of the bed, kicked both feet out before him, and landed his heels on the exterior door at the back of the room. The door burst into pieces at the force, and he landed on the deck outside ungracefully on his back.

He scrambled to his feet quickly and turned to see a very angry bar manager and guard charging through the room he had just passed through. Nabal ran and jumped off a table that sat on the deck and grabbed the edge of the roof. He kicked at the wall scraping his boots on the wood as he pulled himself up onto the roof with his arms. He finally rolled onto his back on the roof and ran toward the front of the building to retrieve his bow and arrows. He jumped down to the lower roof over the front porch of the bar then down to the street below.

He leaned back against the exterior of the pub and exhaled sharply. The pub had erupted into a static roar inside. Nabal slipped his hood up on his head and slipped into the shadows. So much for his favorite pub. He would have to avoid it for a while. Besides he had a more important objective to settle his mind on. For some, rumors of danger kept them well away. For Nabal danger was a necessary risk for reaping spoils. If he had known the cost of this particular risk, he would have certainly gone the other way this time.