[b]Name:[/b] No
[b]Level:[/b] 1
[b]Race:[/b] Dragon
[b]Class:[/b] Barbarian
[b]Date/Time:[/b] Day 1 / Morning
[b]Location:[/b] Post ends with No cleaning
[b]Tagging:[/b] Open, [@Cyrania] [b]Mentioned:[/b] N/A

[b]That’s enough, No![/b]

The barb looked up to glare across the room at the elf who had rejected him earlier. His grip hadn’t let up on the tavern wench as he regarded Gwendolyn with narrowed and burning eyes. As she explained why he should release her and not tear her head right from her shoulders, the dragon’s expression gradually shifted from anger to slight embarrassment.

[b]The girls here have a reputation for robbing their victims while performing their ‘services.’ Sorry for your lost, but you chose to bed one and therefore face the consequences…[/b]

“That’s…that’s ****ing bull****!” No growled.

The elf continued to drop her points on him, making him feel all the more like a fool. Jezebel noticed the dragon’s grip release on her neck and she laid there in relief, panting as she tried to calm her nerves and catch her breath.

“Ye…(pant) best not…(pant) try orderin’ soup (pant) from me,” Jezebel warned.

[b]The guild would have to meet somewhere else if you angered the owner by killing or forever traumatizing the counter girl. Then we would have no access to the mission board and no way to make money. Do you really want that?[/b]

Speechless and still lost in his embarrassment, No released Jezebel and stepped back from her. The blonde wench sat up, rubbing her neck soothingly as she coughed. She then pointed her ladle at him and hissed: “I should t’row ye out!”

She then hopped down from the counter and brushed off her dress as she kept the fact that she had secretly liked it to herself.

“I should call t’ee guards and ‘ave ya locked up for assaultin’ me. Ye a barb, t’ey’d lock ye up in a ‘eartbeat. No gold. No adventures for ye,” Jezebel threatened.

The barbarian was looking like a pup who was told ‘no!’ Jezebel narrowed her eyes up at him, crossed her arms beneath her bosom, and cocked her hip.

“I know what I’ll do wit’ ye. Ye kin’ ‘elp me clean t’is dump before t’ee crowd trickles in. I might even pay ye some coppers fer it. Come wit me. Ye eit’er clean or go t’ee jail.”

No scowled and sighed heavily as he followed the wench into the kitchen. After a few moments, he emerged wearing a pink frilly apron that had looked like it had come out of the cash shop and holding a broom. He had to sweep the place and then mop up all the vomit, piss, and whatever else was about the floor.