“Lost it all...” says the sullen and clearly intoxicated patron. “but what in all the Pits was I s'posed to do?”“I don't know pal,” says the bartender. “but you ain' gonna find it at the bottom of that bottle.” The patron just grumbles and takes another drink.“Bloody dragons 're a menace,” says the patron eventually, noticeably slurring his words. “Thugs and thieves every one of 'em.”“What are you on about?” asks the bartender.“Dragons, I said!” replies the patron. “Well...one dragon, but they's all slimey. This'n said it would protect our village from orcs and that, but it wanted half our livestock.”“You're saying a dragon strong-armed you?” asks the bartender, not quite believing what he's hearing.“Aye,” replies the patron. “but I stood up and said it can't have even one of my animals.”“Oi, good on ya, lad!” says another, slightly nosey, patron next to him, who also raises his tankard in support.“Ain't nothin' good about it,” snaps the first patron at the second. “The blasted beast took all my livestock, destroyed my farm and killed my crops. And then I got kicked outta town. Rest of 'em paid up like so many sheep.” The man sighs and throws back another drink, which he seems to no longer be tasting. Those around him go silent.In a few moments, the bartender puts a small pouch of coins onto the bar in front of the first patron. “Your drinking on the house tonight, lad,” he says. “Ain' right takin' coin from a man that got nothin' else.” The man, as gratefully and gracefully as he can, manages to place the pouch into a pocket and mutter something that sounded like a thanks.“Tell you what...” says the first patron after a while. “Ol' Bloodstone had the right idea...”Nods and mutters of agreement follow.
