Chapter 7

Ughrit put his giant boots upon a table, which promptly collapsed.  This did not improve his already foul mood.  "Where is everyone?" he boomingly whined, "I thought this was finally going to be the one.  A nice country pub in a pretty little village.  That bloody peasant promised this was a nice place even when I said I'd cut his hands off if he was lying.  I was going to put my feet up for a bit," Ughrit kicked the remains of the table in a moment of ironic pique, "have a chat with the locals, just settle down.  But they've all buggered off.  How am I supposed to become a landlord if the peasants all run off?

"I told you Ughwit, you are a bwigand, a mawauder, you inthpire fear and bwing mithewy upon all the world.  A pwopieter of a wuthtic esthtablithment you are not."  Akhbar had to stoop beneath the low ceiling, a red mark upon his forehead and the a beam still emitted maroon smoke were the results of an earlier unfortunate incident.  Akhbar was not in any better of a mood than Ughrit.  His head hurt, his robe was muddy, and he hadn't exploded anybody in over a week.

"I've heard all that Akhbar, over and over.  But this is my dream.  I need to make a change, do something different.  But this is so frustrating.  This is the fourth village now where everyone has taken everything before we have even arrived.  You can't have a pub without people."

"Perhapth it wathn't so withe to have dwagged the whole willage to that firtht pub and then burned the whole plathe down when they weren't jowwy enough,"   said Akhbar in an 'I told you so' tone only possible between people who have known each for a very long time.

"It was a mistake Akhbar, a mistake.  I got carried away.  But everyone makes mistakes, people shouldn't hold that against you.  If everyone ran off every time someone made a mistake everyone would just be running around all the time.  They hate me.  I'm never going to have a pub."  Ughrit sat down on a sturdy bench, put his head in his hands and began to sob pathetically.  In disgust Akhbar, turned, smashed his head on a beam, fell to the ground and crawled out the door.  Shortly thereafter came the sounds of repeated crackling explosions and falling masonry.

Once Ughrit had cried himself out he got himself together, smashed a hole in the wall with his axe, and exited the pub.  Outside his band of thugs, wastrels, psychopaths and arsonists were providing perhaps the densest quantity of milling that has ever been achieved.

"Alright lads, time for some brainstorming.  This isn't working and it's pissing me off."  The whole band shuddered and cringed at this news.  "All these peasants just leave before we arrive, they even take the beer with them, and you can't have a pub without people and beer.  Any ideas?"

"We could grab some people and chain them to the tables."

"How would they drink the beer then Tograt?"

"Um, we pour it down their throats?"

"Not much in the way of convivial atmosphere there Tograt."

"Oh, I don't know, sounds quite charming to me..."

"I have a cunning plan," said a small but particularly disturbing character while cleaning his fingernails with a very small knife.

"Alright, out with it then Hackduff," said Ughrit, "But it better be better than that last one, I couldn't get that stuff out of ears for weeks."

"There is an inn, known as The Inn.  It is a mythical place set upon a hill at the crossroads between Hither and Yon and There to Elsewhere.  It has always been, and always will.  It is the womb of adventure, a place of music, merriment, plots, thievery, lechery and more.  It is inconceivable that The Inn would be abandoned."

"Sounds good Hackduff, what's the catch?"

"Catch, oh Terrible One?"  Replied Hackduff from his abject yet evil slouch.

"Yes Hackduff, the catch.  There's always a catch with your plans and this time I would like to know about it before we start."

"Hmmm, well, The Inn is a large, shambling structure that possibly defies all known physical laws.  The clientele is unpredictable, there may be anything from sorcerers to demons within its walls.  At the very least it will be messy and people will get hurt."

"Sounds perfect.  That should cheer Akhbar up as well.  Right then, which way is this inn?"

Hackduff smiled, "Oh, any direction will do if we travel long enough."

Ughrit's course features, still red from his crying, split into a vast, toothy smile.  It was horrifying.  "Lads, let's saddle up.  Free rein all the way there.  We're on our holidays now."