Generic Bar Scene part 2

The man closest to me had his back turned, and neither he nor his snaggle toothed friend seemed to pay me any mind.

I waited for them to notice me, rocking back on my heels and clearing my throat insistently. Nothng happened.

"Excuse me," I interjected at length, "did you say grey skin?". The closer man slowly turned on his seat and sized me up. Then, he snorted and turned back to his friend.

I began to grow annoyed. "EXCUSE ME." I said more insistently. He said nothing and continued talking to his buddy.

I set my tea down on the counter and kicked his stool out from under him.

He cried out in surprise and hit the ground on his side with a loud thump as his stool skittered away diagonally across the floor. My foot throbbed from kicking the brass legs of the stool but in my anger I ignored it. I was actually quite proud of myself at the time.

His friend didn't seem nearly as impressed with me as I was. As he stood to face me I looked him over. A large man, maybe six foot tall, though not particularly muscular. He had a beer gut under his shirt, which was brown. Or white. Or something. It was hard to tell under all the filth on it. His slacks matched. He had a leather vest with all sorts of hooks on it for holding who knew what. His blue eyes twinkled with anger, and his face flushed red, causing his blond hair to look almost white.

"My arm, oh god she broke my arm!" came from the floor where the first man was writhing about.

"What the HELL is your problem?!" the standing man roared, "We were minding our own business what's WRONG with you, *****?!"

"No," I shot back, "what the hell is wrong with YOU?! I just wanted information about something and your pal there went and got himself kicked off a bar stool. Is that any way to behave?"

The man gritted his teeth.

"You crazy wench!" He picked up the stool he'd been sitting on and threw it at me.

I slid my feet apart as time felt like it slowed. The stool flew at me sideways, the support beam in it parallel to my chest.

I drew my sword and flicked it upward, giving it a slight turn. I felt it kick a bit as it cut the stool in half mid air.

The slight turn I gave the blade sent the top half of the stool flying upward. I heard it land upstairs somewhere with a sharp bang. A woman shouted something indistinct from one of the rooms up there.

The other half sailed behind the counter, missing the bartender by a few inches. The whooshing clanking of what sounded like a few hundred million bottles erupted forth. I heard the liquid rush out onto the floor, matching the beat of the rain outside. The bartender never reacted, and instead just calmly puffed on his pipe, mind clearly a thousand miles away.

I locked eyes with my opponent.

"You wanna try that again, Goliath?" I spat.

He seemed to grow even more enraged, and bum rushed me with a roar, clearing his friend in one step.

I timed it until he was about four feet from me and kicked off into the air. I saw him follow my path, eyes widening slowly in the realization of what was about to happen.

When my feet were about to his eye level, I planted my left on right between his eyes, using his own forward momentum as a weapon.

He grabbed his head and cried out as I landed, then I went down and swiped my leg in a semi circle along the floor and caught his legs out from under him. He fell on top of his friend.

His gut was squishy when I slammed my foot down deep into it. He grunted in agony, his friend's muffled cries of protest and confusion drifting from below him. I placed the tip of my blade on his throat, applying just enough pressure to cause a bead of bright crimson to slither down to seep into his shirt.

"Now then," I said in calm anger, if there is such a thing, "tell me what you were talking about."

The guy eyed me, then let his gaze fall to the blade between us.

"Okay okay." he strained. He was clearly uncomfortable. Good. They talk easier that way.

"I'm listening." I encouraged.

He took a deep breath. "A supply caravan was taken on its way out from the quarry east of here. One guy managed to hobble here with an arrow in his chest. He walked up to the first person he saw, said 'grey skinned', and dropped dead. That's all, lady it's just local gossip."

I narrowed my eyes in thought, my blade still on his throat. This may have been the lead I was looking for.

I sheathed my sword and turned to leave, picking up my boots.

"Tell your friend," I said coolly over my shoulder, "next time he disrespects me like that, I'll kill him."

Pleased with my one liner, I made my way to the counter to pay for my drink.

The bar keep handed me a paper. It read, "27 bottles of liquor, one bar stool, one cup of tea. 387 gold coins".