It had taken a while for Manald to return into his somewhat more 'normal' shape, if one could say so at all if everybody else around him was perfectly human, but it had not helped to make anything less... boring. It was far from the beastman's intention to discount the fact that they were under a damn siege, but there also was no way to deny that his options on top of the wall had been rather limited.

Pull some guts out of a goblin's belly ?
None of the little squeaky things had managed to reach him and he had not been able to simply go down.

Have some small talk with the soldiers around him once things had become calm and quiet again ?
Maybe the prejudices and anxieties about beastmen were not as prevalent and obvious as those about Zatana's race, but they were there still.

Just abandon the place clearly stating that he'd be more useful as a furry bartender in the tavern than blocking everyone else's way on top of the wall ?
The prince would not have been happy about his troop's reputation being pulled into the dirt [i]that[/i] hard.

As long as the goblins did not put considerably more men and effort into more than a probing attack throwing stones down murder holes was not very entertaining either. The vast majority of the attackers had been taken out by the archers. And on top of things even one of soldiers himself had said something accusatory about Manald's lack of 'usefullness' there. So, to put it in more short words, Manald obvious had more than just a bad fur day when he ducked his way through the doorframe into a tavern he didn't even know. A good binge was in dire need, definitely!

However, the place was packed to say the least. Some of the visages he saw felt oddly familiar to those whose owners had just left the same shift as he had, but what he didn't see was a free table or even just a free chair. The lycan trudged his humble self forward, people staring at him all around both in admiration about his sheer size and animalistic features and in disgust about pretty much the same. Having reached the counter, Manald slammed his flat hand on the desk in an attempt to get some attention in all this mess. A quite average-ish looking man turned away from a large fire, approaching him and picking up an empty tankard for cleaning in the process.

"Ah... you. I've heard people talking." He sniffed quite pronouncedly. "You don't smell that bad. Seems like some claims are badly overrated... So. What can I serve you ?"

[color=darkgreen]"Beer! A lot!"[/color]

The man sighed. "Why am I even asking... At this rate it'll be the first thing we'll run out of. Alright..." He put the tankard aside and grabbed a fresh one, filling it with the juice from a wooden barrel.

Manald took it and now it was his turn to sniff, even though much less noticeable. He did not need to inhale a lot of air to smell something, and in this case he was quite happy about that. [color=darkgreen]"It seems like you've run out of [i]good[/i] beer already... Why don't you serve the bad stuff first if you have the unique chance to ?"[/color]

The man just shrugged his shoulders, not even putting on as much as a disappointed look while polishing the tankard again. "I don't subdivide into good and bad stuff. I just have this and I didn't have any complaints about it so far. Drink it or leave, but not without paying for what you already got!"

Now the beastman took a very carefully executed sip. [color=darkgreen]"Just like expected... tastes like one quarter pig piss."[/color] As if this day could go any worse...

"Hah! Does your kind come as pigs, too, or how can you tell how pig piss tastes ?"

Manald looked at the man askantly with a facial expression that was clearly devoid of any amusement. [color=darkgreen]"No, my kind only comes in shapes capable of tearing a man's head off. And the felines can't even purr, very sorry for that!"[/color] He now just stared into what felt like an abyss filled with liquid, homogenous horror in a single shade of amber. Then, with some considerable and no less visible hesitation, the beastman took a larger portion of it and let things roam around in his mouth for a little bit before swallowing. It didn't help either. Not at all.

The tavern owner became a little triumphant in his words: "You will drink it, I'm sure. Simply because... you won't find anything better in Berkhoff right now. What the hell did you expect in a siege ? Very sadly though..." - and now there was nothing but sarcasm in his voice - "I don't have much of a chair left for you. So... you stay ?"

It was exactly the kind of words Manald did not want to hear, simply because... The man was probably right. So maybe just focus in on the alcohol ? The lycan decided to empty his tankard in one go, rapidly washing away bad taste with more bad taste and taking the time to breathe again only after it was all over. Presenting his razor-sharp teeth, he made clear what he wanted: [color=darkgreen]"More!"[/color]

What else should he do this evening... He'd be capable of sleeping sonner or later anyway and his body had always been quite fast when it came to digesting liquor.


------------------------


"Ugh! I can't... lift this man. He's just too heavy!"

"Then just drag him around on the floor. I don't want any drunken heaps in my main hall waking up in the middle of the night and putting on a show because they can't get out! Also I have to clean this place!"

A scream was to be heard, following by a very nasty curse. Some blood noe was dripping onto the ground.

"That's what you get if you're an idiot trying to hold his hands! Didn't you see those claws on them ? Now get moving!"

"Where shall I go with him ?"

"Just drag him to the others, around the corner where less people will see him! They'll warm each other in the night so no worries!"

Manald was left asleep in a small side street, accompanied by a few other patrons who had maneuvered themselves into a similar fate. By now it was the middle of the night, but he would probably be awake long before those around him.