Atharen
The man sneered yet again, showing a yellow tooth at one side. "Stop me? I don't think so."
A mistake. "Careful. I wouldn't like to have to fight you," Atharen's voice was now very soft, dangerous. The man now laughed out loud and Atharen smelt the alcohol on his breath.
"I bet you wouldn't, boy" the stranger scoffed. "Few people would want to cross blades with me."
On the last word the man lunged forward suddenly, but not aiming directly at Atharen - he was aiming at Crystal. Atharen didn't have to think about it: he shoved the woman to the side out of the way, crossing his blade in the way of the stranger's. The clash resounded throughout the room, causing a sudden silence to fall around the Inn Common Room as over fifty men suddenly sobered up very fast. The room was suddenly bristling with concealed weapons and every customer had the exits marked out in a second.
The stranger's sword had been knocked jarringly out of his hand by the sheer force of Atharen's blow and he had stumbled back, hitting a table and nearly falling, clutching the table edge. He looked back at the ranger who swivelled his sword around slowly to face diagonally down, tensed to move again.
"The same could be said of me," Atharen replied to the man's last statement, then he gave a small wry smile, his black eyes flashing. "Boy? I have wandered the wilds longer than you might imagine, and that is not done without learning a few things. Tell me your business and I will not harm you, but threaten or insult any one of my companions, especially my fiancee, and a fight you will have well-earned."
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