<div class="floatright">(http://s3.amazonaws.com/cdn.roosterteeth.com/uploads/images/54063e01-6933-4e38-b195-d0fc28595a06/md/2181220-1448930942333-Warrior_Karsten_Face.jpg)</div>When a few minutes had passed without any whiny ‘Excuse me’, simpering ‘What a big sword you have’ or abrasive ‘Hey dude!’, Cerias finally found himself starting to relax just a tiny bit. He still kept his shoulder towards the desolate pair of hopeless newbies, and his face as much out of the light cast by the hearth as he could. But the worst of his fears gradually lessened. Along with the tension in his arms and neck. Slowly he let a drawn out breath escape his lips. Despite the pair of them doing the best impersonation of two beggars that had been through a stampede of vermin chased by a shit storm in the sewers, he couldn’t deny they still had some fetching sights to offer.<br/><br/>Not like what his gaze was welcomed by on the other end. An enormous slab of sweaty muscle, tangled hair braided with bone charm’s and a breath that could have not only woken the dead but turned them all too, laid snoring in a comfortable looking heap under one table. In the dark it was impossible to even tell the gender of the thing, and he had no wish at all to investigate closer. Especially since there was some faint movement in the dark shadows creeping along the legs of the tables and chairs deep in the corners that had him wonder if there wasn’t some sort of personal vendetta between the rats and the innkeeper.<br/><br/>It wasn’t the first time Cerias speculated if the place couldn’t do with a small case of burning down. The stench of beer, urine and moldy straw fought a terrible battle with that of rendered fat and soot coming from the kitchen over the prime estate of his nose and he was still entirely sure the owner had overcharged him grossly. There was simply no way a night at a crinkled orc-anus like this could cost anywhere near…<br/><br/>A low thump broke through his happy little place of irate grumbles as a wave of watery ale splashed over his chin and chest, cascading down like piss colored rain over his lap. Always on edge he nearly ripped his blade out of the scabbard to see what the hell strange event had something agro on him in here. But with so many weak ass adventurers around he’d hardly be the first target. Instead he kept his eyes closed for a long moment as he drew in a deep, breath, trying, and failing, to smother the raising ire bubbling up from inside. If one of those dumb ass kids had thrown something at him he’d find those rat tails they’d so painstakingly collected and shove them into any available hole he could find and then he would….<br/><br/>He opened his eyes and stared at the small, almost dainty, boot that hung lazily from the rim of his tankard, like some kind of perverse cocktail stick. The only thing missing was the olive.<br/><br/>‘I’m not turning around. It never ends well to respond in any way. I know exactly what happens if I do.’<br/><br/>The rest of him ignored the calm and assertive voice of reason entirely. The irritation was too powerful to shake off as both his pride and beer bequeathed tunic demanded satisfaction. The only sound in the room was the patter of ale against the floorboards and the odd pop from the cheap wood in the hearth as his body inexorably turned towards the two soon to be very sorry women. Like a battleship turning its broadside towards a pair of rowboats. With every inch he turned, more and more of his broad chest and shoulders came into view and the amber pearls of ale gleamed over the black leather in the flickering light.<br/><br/>“Excuse me, uhh…. Sir….I… dropped my shoe.”<br/><br/>The shadows cast over his eye sockets made them look like gun ports where the reflection of the flame in his sapphire iris was like the flash of matches waiting for the order to fire the cannons. As he leaned forwards towards them, fully ignoring the voice in his head that still went on about how he wouldn’t turn around, the grey hair, sprinkled in with the rest of the dark stubble along his strong jawline, gleamed like stars through mist.<br/><br/>-I’ll just stare at them, show them my displeasure. Send them running anyway. I’m not going over there. I’ll just go back to drinking by ale and pretending the world isn’t filled with irritating dumbasses thinking my sword is there for their personal use.-<br/><br/>The voice went on as it realized that he already were looking at the two ragged women. Another small voice growled at the sight of all the creamy cleavage now showing as the dark haired one seemed to almost be spilling out of her bodice. That too was pushed aside as the momentum of his leaning forward necessitated bracing with one foot. Then, since he was halfway standing already, his body decided that he might as well go all the way and with the soft creak of supple leather he came to his feet. He didn’t know when he’d picked up the boot but he already held on to it, the small footwear seemed even smaller than it was in his broad, callused hand.<br/><br/>-I know better than to walk over there.-<br/><br/>The inner monologue went on, entirely unheeded by the rest of his body which had the first step locked in and the next already queued up. Heavy boots struck the tired old planks of the floor, sending up straw and dust in small clouds as he walked up to their table. A tall, powerfully built warrior, he towered over them, one broad hand on the wolf’s head pommel of his sword, the other holding the shoe between thumb and index finger as he stared down at them.<br/><br/>-Just dropping the shoe and leaving. Just dropping it off is all.-<br/><br/>The voice chanted in the back of his head. Still clinging on to hope of a calm evening devoid of nagging adventurers.<br/><br/>Cerias let his eyes pan from the disheveled and bruised brunette with the miles of cleavage and over to the tangled mess of redhead that hid behind her. Torn clothes, all cloth, barely hiding the streaks of mud and blood that marred them both. He wondered if they’d even gotten through the introduction to adventuring yet or just grabbed whatever weapon was closest and ran out into the wilds. But surely no one was that dumb?<br/><br/>“No!”<br/><br/>He ground out, voice deep and flat.<br/><br/>“I’m not doing it. Do you know why?”<br/><br/>He let go of the boot. Letting it fall right into whatever tankard was closest to splash the contents all over the table and whomever was unlucky enough to sit next to it.<br/><br/>“Because you never know when the other shoe drops. And it always drops!”<br/><br/>-Good I said it….now to just walk away…don’t let your eyes wander down into the deep cavernous cleavage off…-<br/><br/>-….-<br/><br/>-….-<br/><br/>-Ahh fuck…..-<br/>