The gruff man took a long-lasting glare toward Aether as he shambled on over to the angry lady. "Sorry, ma'am, but I was just talking with the woman who almost stole my shoes last night." He went to the shelves hanging up on the walls and grabbed a large pitcher filled with beer. He then shambled on over to her pints and filled them up. He then laid his hand out for the money patiently, although one could see that his eyes have gotten stormy again, and looked like he's about to spring into action if there was anymore trouble.
As soon as she gave her money to the bartender, he quickly grabbed her hand with, surprisingly, a lot of force for such a small man, and he growled at her, "You know, I used to be a sellsword like you. You better keep your trap shut in this place, or else you'll be pounded. Those knights and pages over there will rough you up before you even get to say, 'Another pint.' This place is quite the quaint place, but people here, who have been into more trouble than you have and have survived numerous wars, will love to have the chance to spill your blood on my nice wooden floor." The man glared at the woman, his hand under her forearm in a death grip
His Pokemon, a muscular one with canes, that were two pillars of concrete, and about as tall as he is wide, peaked in from the backyard. A Conkeldurr, about 6 feet tall and really heavy, is the reason why he isn't inside. Even though the vaulted ceiling can hold 8 foot-tall critters, the weight of the Pokemon would potentially break the floorboards beneath.
"Even though my Pokemon's most powerful moves wouldn't be able to hit yours'n, it has a few moves up its muscles that allow it to hit spectral beings," he smirked and his teeth are dirty and yellow, his lips literally cracked and begin to bleed. "You even dare touch me or give me more disrespect, I will have my Conkeldurr throw you out, and you won't be able to come in and visit ever again. Do you understand me?" he spat out, glaring at her and holding her arm in his death grip. His Conkeldurr gave her Dusclops a dirty look, as well.
As soon as she gave her money to the bartender, he quickly grabbed her hand with, surprisingly, a lot of force for such a small man, and he growled at her, "You know, I used to be a sellsword like you. You better keep your trap shut in this place, or else you'll be pounded. Those knights and pages over there will rough you up before you even get to say, 'Another pint.' This place is quite the quaint place, but people here, who have been into more trouble than you have and have survived numerous wars, will love to have the chance to spill your blood on my nice wooden floor." The man glared at the woman, his hand under her forearm in a death grip
His Pokemon, a muscular one with canes, that were two pillars of concrete, and about as tall as he is wide, peaked in from the backyard. A Conkeldurr, about 6 feet tall and really heavy, is the reason why he isn't inside. Even though the vaulted ceiling can hold 8 foot-tall critters, the weight of the Pokemon would potentially break the floorboards beneath.
"Even though my Pokemon's most powerful moves wouldn't be able to hit yours'n, it has a few moves up its muscles that allow it to hit spectral beings," he smirked and his teeth are dirty and yellow, his lips literally cracked and begin to bleed. "You even dare touch me or give me more disrespect, I will have my Conkeldurr throw you out, and you won't be able to come in and visit ever again. Do you understand me?" he spat out, glaring at her and holding her arm in his death grip. His Conkeldurr gave her Dusclops a dirty look, as well.
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