Jahan licked the inner edges of the glass and stared into its complete lack of content with utmost dismay. It had been delicious, a minute ago when there had been something left to taste. He desperately tried licking the corners of his mouth, but there was no residue of the yellow, fruity drink. He had far from expected the barkeep of the new fighter's guild to have any capacity  for serving even a half-way decent Sunrise Columbo, let alone a sublime Botanist's Nightmare, as the one Jahan had just gulped down, too rapidly to properly enjoy it. At that moment Jahan regretted not having a beard to soak up his drinks and his dinners for later enjoyment.<br/><br/>"Barkeep, another. It was really... it was really good, actually." The corpulent man, who had served him the delicious drink, sent him a bemused expression, barely containing the pride he took in his abilities to mix various fruits and alcohols, or to serve a tankard of ale with just the right amount of foam, suiting the individual costumerâ€™s unspoken preference.<br/>"You seem surprised," he said, almost snickering beneath his over-sized moustache. Jahan took off his hat and scratched his brown hair before answering with a cocky smile.<br/>"A Botanist's Nightmare is delicious or horrible depending on the kiwi. Almost no one gets it right. I didn't think a stinking pub like this could even provide as much as a clean glass."<br/>The corpulent barkeep shook his head and filled another tankard for the eveningâ€™s third barbarian, who had more money than Jahan to spend, having just claimed some kind of payment for a contract, well-beheaded.<br/><br/>"Do you want another one?" The barkeep nodded at the empty glass which Jahan stared longingly into. Jahan shook his head and admitted to be short of coin since he had failed his last mission. Or rather, his mission had been completed under his nose by someone else, who happened to be faster at tracking down stray cattle than Jahan had been.<br/>"But you do have enough coin to pay for the first drink, right?" the barkeep said with some suspicion and his bemused expression was quickly being replaced with a face carrying an unspoken, stern warning.<br/>"No," Jahan said, and pushed the glass away, finally coming to terms with the fact he would not get any more fruity taste out of it, "A fox stole my pouch as I was coming here. Been trying to track the filthy animal down without much luck, and I'd place a quest in the guild to track the fox down if I had the cash to pay for the submission. There is some kind of irony in the siituation. You are going to have to write me a tab or-"<br/>"I don't know you well enough to start a tab," the barkeep interrupted.<br/>"- or present me with an easy quest that can earn me fast money."<br/><br/>The barkeep's eyes lit up and he went to get the details on a specific quest he had in mind when a newcomer - even more fresh to Illises than Jahan - made a scene and got promptly thrown out. Jahan smirked, but admitted to himself, that he seemed a decent fellow. The newcomerâ€™s name was Arathorne, and he was a polite fellow, who did not deserve ending up in the mud.<br/><br/>Jahan's respect for Arathorne increased exponentially as he bashed open the door and reentered the guild, taking the fight to his attackers. Jahan laughed as Arathorne shot forward and one of the thugs fell to the floor, clutching his shattered nose. As polite and neat as Arathorne seemed, he clearly did not mind getting his forehead dirty with blood and snot, and as it quickly became clear the drunk, bored fighters were leaping on the opportunity to brawl, Jahanâ€™s laughter broke out in full and he got his tiny frame off his seat and he took a firm grip of his weapon.<br/><br/>The barbarian next to him laughed too and advanced on the newcomer as well as several others. There were few alliances in a random barfight, but it seemed most could agree the neat instigator, Arathorne, deserved to be beaten up before anyone else. Jahan disagreed vehemently; he liked the newcomer far more than the rest of the rabble, but even more so, Jahan wanted to fight the big burly types more than he wanted to fight some wet-behind-the-ears newcomer who had done no other wrong that showing courtesy to savages.<br/>Jahan was more savage than the lot of them.<br/><br/>â€œIâ€™ll stop this fight if you forgive my debt,â€ Jahan shouted at barkeep, who shook his head again, and said there was no deal. Jahan did not hear him since he had already leapt into the fray and unto the over-sized back of the barbarian. The barbarian barely noticed the added encumberance of Jahanâ€™s insignificant frame, but was made aware when Jahan continued onwards, using the barbarianâ€™s face as a platform to launch himself over to the side of the newcomer. The barbarian, of course, did not even stagger, but seemed only displeased with the smell of sweat and the taste of dirt delivered by Jahanâ€™s hairy, bare feet on his mouth.<br/><br/>Jahan got to the side of Arathorne, and without paying much attention to him, he stretched out his arm and pointed his ivory club at the surrounding attackers. â€œI am Jahan of the Tusk,â€ he said majestically, â€œproudest warrior of the steppes and the jungles. You are all practice.â€ And like the fighters had done when Arathrone showed sophistication, they all laughed. To them there was no more ridiculous sight than a flat-footed midget in patch-work clothes, a green over-sized tubular hat and wielding, of all things, an elephantâ€™s tusk as if it was a legitimate weapon. As Jahanâ€™s face turned red with frustration they all increased the volume of their laughter, which caused Jahanâ€™s face to turn redder, which caused them to laugh harder, which ended abruptly when Jahan jumped up and brought the tusk down over the barbarianâ€™s shoulder with enough force to make his legs give up and the entire body of the enormous barbarian crumbled, accompanied with an ominous sound of wooden floor cracking.<br/><br/>With one swing of his enchanted tusk, Jahan had become a serious combatent in the eyes of the brawling fighters. Jahan wasted no time on the fallen, and dashed forward towards whoever was nearest, swinging his tusk in a wide arc. His new opponent was a lvl 10 shields-man, who at all times wore a tower shield on each arm, even before the brawl, and had been comfortably drinking something that was like an eztra fizzy ale when he noticed the opportunity to try his strength against a new group of combatants. He combined high defences with weak jabs from the shields on his arms, and his slow, protective fighting style was useless against Jahanâ€™s overwhelming blunt force. The shield-man avoided Jahanâ€™s initial swing, and tried to punch him with the shield.<br/><br/>Jahanâ€™s brown-furred tail wrapped around the shield-manâ€™s arm, and while Jahan did not possess the strength to stop the assault, he altered the shieldâ€™s trajectory which allowed him to sidestep it, and once more Jahan swung his tusk upwards.<br/>The shield-man smiled mockingly and with surprising speed brought the left-hand tower shield in to absorb the blow, as it had absorbed so many others. Jahan smiled, too.<br/>There was not much strength in Jahanâ€™s arm, and yet the force of impact ended the fight in one blow, as the shield-manâ€™s arm curved involuntarily inwards, slamming the inside of his own shield against his temple, neutralizing his capacity to smile mockingly, as well as his ability to see straight.<br/>Jahan lifted the tusk in triumph for a final blow against the dazed and fallen shield-man when someone bludgeoned him into submission from behind.<br/><br/>Jahan awoke to find the guild had settled back to normal and everyone seemed to enjoy a fresh serving of beer or one of the delicious fruity drinks Jahan himself longed for. Or rather, which he had longed for, but now he was slightly nauseous, and he silently complained about the lack of a healerâ€™s guild in Illises.<br/>â€œGood news,â€œ the barkeep said merrily, â€œYou have a tab now. You were on the losing side, so you are buying everyone else a free round.â€<br/>Jahanâ€™s face immediately turned red and he would have shouted if not for the thundering headache, and so instead Jahan simply shrugged. â€œIn that case make me another Botanistâ€™s Nightmare. And hold back on the banana this time.â€<br/><br/>The barkeep was grinning when he returned with the drink, and Jahan had honestly thought the man incapable of holding a boyish grin. He was simply not built for it, beer-gut and all. â€œSince you have no money and no ongoing contracts I have found one for you that should help settle your current debt and then some.â€<br/>He slid Jahan a piece of paper which Jahan grumpily accepted and skimmed through, then read through once more in a more detailed manner, before finally reading it for a third time in disbelief and accepted on the spot. It was the most lucrative contract he had seen in a year and a half and he was not about to let it slip away just because he felt like lying down.<br/>â€œYou will be working with those people,â€ the barkeep said and pointed to a few others, one of whom was the polite Arathrone, whom Jahan gave a nod of approval towards. Much as he liked Arathorne, comparatively to the brutes in the brawl, Jahan hoped Arathorne had been on the losing side as well. Jahan hated defeat, but he hated a victory more, if he was the only one of his team that fell.