Seven Exiles Walk Into A Bar (long)

“What’s good about energy shield,” said the Witch, resting her forearm on the table and leaning forward, “is that it regen… re-gen… regeneral…”

“Regenerates,” said the Scion, very precisely- so precisely, in fact, that it was clear that she was working very hard at it. She was sitting very straight, and a lock of her hair kept falling in front of her eyes, but she was playing a game where she tried to move the hair out of her face by blowing on it rather than using her hands. It wasn’t really working.

“Redrunkerates!” expounded the Shadow, giggling, and they all laughed, even the Duelist, who was just as drunk as the rest of them, but who held his liquor better. For some reason they all thought that this was very funny, as if this was the first time in the history of the world that the word “redrunkerate” had ever been spoken. They were pretty hammered.

The laughter died down after a minute and the Witch waved for another whiskey. The Marauder had his feet up on the table, but he kept craning his neck and looking around, obviously trying to spot someone.

“What are you looking for?” asked the Scion.

“Ranger,” he said. Scion rolled her eyes. “She’s over there, flirting with the bartender.” The Marauder looked crestfallen. He was a decent guy, but very straightforward, and he was clearly disappointed that the Ranger was flirting with someone besides him.

“Hey, not your fault,” said the Shadow, comforting him. “You’re just not her type.”

The Templar pointed over the Marauder’s shoulder. “She’s not flirting,” he said. “She’s talking to a girl. A woman,” he corrected quickly, looking in the Witch’s direction. The Scion giggled, then stared at the Templar.”

The Marauder grunted, “You know she’s gay, right?”

The Templar was flabbergasted. “What? No, I can’t believe that. She’s such a nice girl, and it’s a sin! Then why are you…” he looked at the Marauder, confused.

“A man must have dreams,” said the Marauder in his rumbly voice, but he looked like he had already forgotten the Ranger. For him, heartbreak usually lasted about the amount of time that it took to get from the bottom of the last mug of beer to the start of the next one.

The Scion leaned very close to the Templar- far closer than he would have allowed had he been sober. “Aw, you’re so cute,” said the Scion. “I love how you look at the world through your big, innocent eyes,” she said, turning her own eyes upward to stare wide-eyed into his. “I think you’re sweet.” The Templar didn’t really notice. He usually had a little trouble focusing by the time this part of the evening came.

“Hey, Scion,” said the Duelist, “come with me to the bar to help me get the next round.”
The Scion looked dubiously at the Duelist, but then she shrugged. “Okay,” she said, and stood up. The walked to the bar together.

“So I don’t want to disappoint you,” he said, “but you’re not going to have any luck with the Templar.”

“Oh, I don’t know,” said the Scion offhandedly. “He’s pretty drunk. It looks like he’s not thinking a whole lot about his vow of chastity right about now.”

“Yeah, you’re right about that,” said the Duelist, “but that’s not it. He’s going to go home with the Witch. He always goes home with the Witch.”

The Scion snorted. “Not likely,” she said. “The Witch burns children. She summons the dead from beyond the grave. Duelist, she ate her sister. She’s evil.”

“Wait, what?” said the Duelist. “She ate her sister? No, nevermind, you made that up. Maybe. Anyway, I mean, sure, she’s evil,” said the Duelist, “but she’s fun to hang out with.”

“Yes,” said the Scion. “She’s fun. For us. But the Templar- you know, they’re different types of people. The Templar is preachy,” said the Scion. “I mean, it’s God this and God that. The Witch can’t stand that. More than anything, she hates when people tell her what to do. And more than anything, he hates evil. No way they can be a couple.”

The Duelist said, “Yeah, I know that, and what you’re saying makes sense. And when they’re sober, it’s totally true. During the day, they totally hate each other and won’t even talk to each other except to curse each other. And I mean that in the most literal sense. But when they get drunk… well, they can’t keep their hands off each other. The night always ends up with them having wild sex, and they always both regret it in the morning.”

“Regret it how much?”

“Normally, one of them is burning. Sometimes, both of them. They blew up a cow once.”

“A cow?”

“It was messy.”

“Oh,” said the Scion, contemplative. “Should we… I mean, do you think we should stop them?”

“Never happen,” said the Duelist. “You don’t want to get between them when they’re fighting, but it’s even worse if you get between them when they’re horny. Trust me, we’d all be sorry.”

“We could…”

“Scion,” said the Duelist, “think about the cow. You don’t want to be the cow.”

The Scion nodded thoughtfully, looking at the Duelist out of the corner of her eye as they waited for their drinks. “So… the Ranger is gay, the Templar is with the Witch… but you’re kinda cute, and not with anyone that I can see.”

“Oh, he’s with someone.” The Shadow had walked up behind them while they were talking. He leaned drunkenly between them, one arm over each of their shoulders as they stood waiting at the bar. “The Duelist is in looooooveee…”

“Oh?” asked the Scion, looking at the Duelist.

“No I’m not,” said the Duelist.

“Duelist and Piety, sitting in a tree…” slurred the Shadow. He was a terrible singer.

The Scion looked shocked. “Piety?”

The Duelist said, “Shut up, Shadow. I’m not in love with Piety.”

“Piety. Of Theopolis? That Piety?” asked the Scion, incredulously.

“K-i-s-s-i-n-g,” chanted the Shadow.

“You’re blushing!” exclaimed the Scion. “You have a crush on Piety! Aw, that’s so cute. But you know I’m gonna have to kill her, right?”

“I’ll take care of it myself,” muttered the Duelist. “I know it needs doing. It’s just… I mean, I feel like she’s a good person, deep down inside. But- well, I know we have to stop her.”

“First comes love…”

“SHUT UP!” the Duelist and the Scion shouted at the Shadow in unison. He was incredibly annoying when he was drunk. But he shut up. They got their drinks and started walking back to their table.

“So,” said the Shadow to the Scion, “The Templar is with the Witch and the Duelist is with Piety. But I’m available. The Shadow smirked, and the smell of sour beer wafted across the space between them.

“I think I’d prefer the Marauder,” said the Scion, looking around. “Hey, Marauder!” she yelled, “where’d you go?”

“He’s passed out under the table,” said the Shadow. “That’s why I came looking for you. Templar and Witch have graduated to playing kissy-face, and Marauder’s passed out. And if you look at it that way, I guess that means I’m the only guy available. How about it, babe? Up for running with the Shadow of the Night? Surrender all your dreams to me tonight.”

“Oh, God,” muttered Scion. Then: “There’s always the Ranger.”

“Hah!” snorted the Shadow.

“I don’t think she’s joking,” said the Duelist, as the Scion started wandering toward where the Ranger was still fruitlessly trying to get the bartender’s interest. As the Duelist and the Shadow got back to their table, they saw that the Witch was sitting in the Templar’s lap, and he was staring down the front of her shirt.

“Oh, come on,” complained the Shadow to the Witch. “What does the Templar have that I don’t have?”

“Well,” smirked the Templar, “let me tell you about my totem. It’s very large, and it’s made of wood.” A huge smile spread across the Witch’s face. She jumped off of the Templar’s lap and pulled on his hand. “We’re leaving,” she said to no one in particular. The Templar followed her like a puppy as they headed for the door.

“Hey,” the Shadow called after them, “what if I grew a beard? Is it the beard? What if I started going around without pants? That’s why the women all want him, isn’t it? Because he has no pants? I can take off my pants!” The Witch hardly noticed, because the Templar was carrying her, giggling, into the darkness.

“Hey, I have to head out too,” said the Duelist.” He put some money on the table. “Brutus and I are gonna do some work on his motorcycle in the morning, and I have to wake up early. Catch you later, huh?” The Shadow nodded and looked on sadly as the Duelist followed the Witch and the Templar out the door.

“Hey,” a woman’s voice called to the Shadow. It was an attractive young woman- the bartender, free, now, that the Ranger had backed off a little. She was smiling at the Shadow.

“Hey yourself,” said the Shadow, grinning back at her.

The bartender handed him a slip of paper. The Shadow looked at it.

“What’s this?”

“The check. The old guy and the girl with the black hair- your friends- said you’d cover for them.” She picked up some empty glasses and headed back to the bar.

“Well, shit,” said the Shadow.

Nice story, I think thats the reason why I ever play a Shadow. Kappa