eestie pulled a short, blue rod from his pocket and aimed it at the fire giant.
"Take it outside!" snarled Rosie. Beestie turned his head to look at her. Just at that moment, the fire giant smashed one huge fist along the side of Beestie's head.
"No!" screamed Kirrsh. He coiled his muscles in preparation to pounce on the Giant, but Rosie beat him to it. With a howl of rage she lunged at the giant's face. One fist lashed out and jabbed two fingers deep within his nose. Having thus hooked him, she allowed herself to fall to the floor, dragging the giant's face behind her.
"What part of outside did you miss, knucklehead?" she snarled, occasionally shaking his face with his nose to accent her words.
"Ow! Ma'am, I di'n' mean nothin' by it. Were -- Ow! -- jus' lookin' for a li'l fun!" He was bent double, trying to stay on his feet instead of his knees, but also trying to ease the pain in his face caused by Rosie's iron grip on his nose.
Rosie dragged him to the door to the Hanging Half Orc and whirled him out the door. "You are no longer invited into this place. If you come in again, I will hurt you." The giant opened his mouth to say something, but Rosie cut him off. "That was nothing. That was a little love tap to get your attention. Next time I'll really hurt you.
The giant worked his mouth a few times, deciding on what to say, thought better of it, then turned and left. Rosie chuckled as she turned back to the tavern, dusting her hands together in mid-air.
"That hothead has been itching for a fight ever since he came in here. You just happened to be the excuse he used to--" Her voice stopped as she saw Kirrsh squatting over Beestie. The older Rak was not moving. A look of concern flickered briefly across her face, then stopped. It was replaced by a smirk.
"Out cold, is he?" she asked the Rak cub. Kirrsh nodded. "Well, we'll just see about that." She reached into a pocket of her apron and pulled out a small sprig of a green plant. Kirrsh's eyes became full moons as he recognized the catnip. Rosie swatted his paw as he reached for it, then she stuffed it under Beestie's nose.
First his left nostril twitched. Then his right nostril twitched. His eyes scrunched tighter into the closed position. "Uh huh," said Rosie. "I figured you were faking it." She kicked his hip as she stood up, stuffing the catnip back into her apron pocket. "Get up, oaf."
Beestie's eyes flew open and a guilty grin flashed across his muzzle. "That was cruel," he moaned to Rosie. She glared at him, nonplused. "Got more?" him asked.
"Of course I do -- fresh, and dried for that filthy pipe of yours."
"Filthy pipe? It's no worse than yours!"
"I put tobacco in mine, not catnip," she sneered.
"And the difference is?" He pulled his pipe out, followed by his green pouch. He opened the pouch and peered into it, pitifully. "It is awfully low."
"Uh huh. And I'll be supposing that you want it filled, yes?" Rosie smiled at him as the elder Rakshasa nodded like a kitten. "It's going to cost you." Rosie and Kirrsh both began to laugh as Beestie began to shuffle over to the stage and began to sing.
"The Wizards rewrote Wyvern's history book
but they didn't know quite where to look.
"Finding real history isn't hard
all you've to do is ask a Bard.
"He'll tell you the story and not even blink,
but you know he'll ask you for a drink!
"Fey were first, or so it seems
long before there were kings and queens.
"They settled the land from coast to coast.
Peace with all life -- of this they would boast.
"The Dwarves came next, looking for gold.
Beneath the mountains they would make their hold.
"The gems they mined would shine so bright,
or so they would if they ever saw light.
"Along came the Halflings, and into the ground
they burrowed so quick -- with doors so round.
"A hearty bowl of stew, and a pipe by the fire
keeps them cozy and warm and arouses no ire.
"Of the Giants' origin there is no clue.
Now hunt hundreds where once there were but a few.
"Stomping around with a lust to kill,
are the Fire, Storm, Stone -- but what of the Hill?
"From demon spawn rose the Rakshasa line.
Proud warriors all, some mages so fine.
"Fur will fly, if one you cross,
and I guarantee it won't be his loss!
"From a hole in the ground slithered the Naga breed
and across the land with a horrible speed.
"Kick over a rock and there you'll find
the Naga snake hidden with its slithering kind.
"The Pixies can be found from here to there,
but for more of their tale, my time won't I spare.
"For Pixies are boorish, flighty and crass!
Every last one should be fed to a bass!
"Johnny-come-latelies, that's what they're called.
The humans arrived and all were appalled!
"Killing and taking from all of the land,
why they even claimed the beach full of sand!
"Then darkness arose and caused such a woe!
Former rivals joined forces to fight this new foe!
"Heroes from each race would soon stand proud,
each excelling in their trade o'er the rest of the crowd.
"You've heard of their tales, time and again,
if not ask a Wizard to once more explain.
"But one name's forgotten -- no more to be heard,
not from this bard, nor that one -- not even a third.
"From the race of Rakshasa came one so bold,
as to put all the land's evil in a stranglehold.
"He hunted down evil into its lair so deep,
he even tracked it as it hid in the humans' keep.
"But when the folks of the land came to give him applause,
he merely gnashed his teeth and bared his claws.
"'You creatures are beneath me -- away with you now!
Of your help I had none -- you hid with the cow.
"'So leave with your thanks and your medal of honor.
Come any closer and you will be a goner!'
"He stomped from their midst on down the lane.
It was later they realized they knew not his name.
"His deeds faded to legend, and from legend to myth,
until centuries passed, then more -- and a fifth.
"Among the Rakshasa a tale is still told
of a Tiger of yore who was ever so bold,
"as to tell the whole world to take their awe
and stuff it down their open craw!"
Copyright © 1997-2004 Cabochon Technologies, Inc. All rights reserved.