The evening sun was barely visible over the city walls, throwing its very final rays down emptying streets. Residents of all ages began winding down and tucking in, finding refuge among their homes or the local establishments. Carts rolled by, carrying cargo and people alike. Were one to look up, the sky would be a sea of orange above the artificial streetlamps while cooling wind would blow spring air against one's skin. The air was lively, filled with the sounds of cheer, music, arguments, shouting and singing which resonated off vertical stone faces, forming a cacophony of urban life.
On one such street sat an unassuming bar, hardly noticeably amongst other watering holes which bookended it. Its name was once proudly displayed on a wooden sign hanging off a metal post which jutted perpendicular from the building. However, the sign and the bar it was attached to had existed long before any of the city's residents had even walked this world, and its name faded away, the essence of it lost to time. Of course, this mattered little to the establishment's clientele as there was a strong and steady stream of regulars who clogged its seats, tables, and counter on a nightly basis. People talked and ate quietly, laughing on occasion or throwing down coins or dice for a game.
Alexis blasted through the front as if shot from a cannon, nearly sending the wooden contraption into a patron who was trying to leave at the same time she entered. The man, bewildered, shouted something at the woman's back as she moved at a rapid pace deeper into the building, but she paid him no mind. Upon noticing that she wore the standard light plate armor of a city guard, the man shut his mouth and decided it was best to be on his way. Another unfortunate soul who dared to be in her path was also knocked forward when her elbow bumped him, causing some of his filled drink to spill. This second man met the same fate as the first, at first attempting to show his displeasure but then gave up immediately after seeing the woman's garbs. Attack one officer, and it will be paid back a dozen times over.
Upon reaching her destination, Alexis took out both of her arms and threw her fists upon the counter, eliciting reactions from those who surrounded her, namely the bartender. An old crone of an elf named Sonol, he had worked behind that counter before anyone he was serving that night could even walk, and knew each and every single of his regular's names and lives by heart. His skin was pale and had more creases than any linen, with wispy white hair just barely clinging onto his scalp. He was more bones than muscle, but those who genuinely knew the man would say he only
looks
weak. Cleaning out a glass as Alexis approached, his beady black eyes came off the cup and came to rest upon the woman's mud brown searchlights that sat above her sour mug.
"The usual. Go ahead and make it double," she grumbled at him, hardly even affording the bartender a fully open mouth to allow her words to fall out of.
Sonol scoffed at her, "you're joking, right? They may as well carry you out of here with just one of those things going down your gullet, and you want to double up? Get real."
"I
am
real, you old hag. Now pour -- I've had a long day and I'm not in the mood to chat."
The two stared at each other for a while as Sonol allowed her time to reconsider, yet she did not budge or even blink. Sighing, the elf nodded his displeasure at her choice but started reaching for a bottle to pour her drinks, "you know your choices are only leading you towards one outcome, Lexie. I don't need you ending up lifeless in some alley the morning after you graced my watering hole with your beautiful self."
"I love you too, Sonny. Give em," she tossed a handful of coins at him, clattering across the counter and into his hand. Sonol almost threw them back at her.
"Suit yourself. I just hope you have enough left in your pocket to pay the man who has to carry you home after this."
"Too much worrying and not enough pouring," she barked, clanging her fingers three times across the counter.
Sonol said no more and turned downward to focus on filling both immense mugs until the liquid was right up to the rim. Too many times in the past had he learned Alexis would accept nothing less than every single ounce she paid for, so now a task simple as filling her ale requires astronomical precision.
Nearly yanking the twin mugs from his hands as he lightly pushed them towards her, Alexis spun slowly as to keep every drop in the containers she held. Trekking away from the counter, she witnessed her favorite corner booth was unoccupied as normal. It was filthy, given Sonol almost purposely left it unkempt for days on end in an effort to scare off other customers who dared sit there. Alexis was overjoyed at his decision, however -- it allowed her maximum distance from other tables and patrons so she could wallow in utmost peace.
Taking her seat facing the bar's interior, she could survey what most of the other patrons were doing at any given time without even needing to stand. As a capital guard she had learned that backstabbing was a very real threat that had taken more than one of her fellow soldiers -- yet she refused to ever let it happen. Alexis could even see the entrance from her vantage point, should any troublemakers arrive. Sitting, both of her colossal dark drinks crashed onto the wooden table, and she swore under her breath when a single drop fell over the side.
Swallowing her words, she brought the first mug up to her lips to drown her speech. The sheer impact of the glass made her shudder. Each ounce flowing down her throat was coarse, rough, and even painful -- Alexis may as well be chugging isopropyl alcohol. The ale Sonol had served her is a cheap alternative to other mainstream beverages, but far stronger. It would hardly even be considered bottom-shelf in terms of taste and quality but had more alcohol content than anything else the city had to offer. As far as Alexis could tell, she was the only patron that even bought the stuff, so as to why the old elf still keeps it in stock is a mystery. Perhaps he just has a soft spot for the guardswoman. Regardless, she drank down each gulp with practiced intent, her tastebuds killed off years ago by the same slop she sucks upon now. It crashed into her belly and the acids within complained how painful it was. She kept drinking.
"Gooooddss yes... that's it..."
she groaned as her stomach bubbled. She rubbed her abdomen a bit, encouraging it along. Drinking this dangerous grog was a threat already, but the issue was compounded further as Alexis chugged it down on an empty belly in order to get tipsy quicker. When was the last time she had eaten something? Today? Yesterday even? She could not be paid to remember - she had been too busy to bother with a real meal. Yet, hunger was not the only annoyance she was facing tonight.
There was a heavy red scar that ran down the woman's face, a gift some poor soul gave her in battle a decade prior. The young man, likely even younger than Alexis was at the time, was able to get a quick swipe on her when the guardswoman staggered. It was, however, lucky that she
did
trip right then -- the blade went through her eyebrow and into her cheek, missing her eyeball by a hair's breadth. In a rage the woman charged forward and stabbed the boy straight through the heart, sending him into the next world before he even hit the ground. She could have gotten the scar fixed at a healer at any point -- but Alexis enjoyed the menacing appearance it gave her.
"That's it... go away now, you little shit..."
she cursed under her breath. The scar would heavily itch on occasion, as it did now. No matter -- she was becoming more inebriated by the minute, and it was fading away as her stupor rolled in.
As the minutes rolled into an hour the fatigue in her digits, bones, and scar faded away as if siphoned straight out of her. But Alexis did not feel the alcohol at all, as if fully conditioned to downing unholy amounts of the chemical. This was, however, only true for her first drink. It was unheard of for her to order a second -- surprising even her bartender. Bringing the second cup up as she lowered the first, Alexis could already tell she would either be sleeping in this chair until morning, or Sonol would have someone carry her home. The behavior was unfitting of a guard, and yet little was done to enforce or steer her away from her self-destructive tendencies. As they say, it is only a problem if someone discovers you.
Feeling an unusually large dollop clogging her throat, the guard leaned forward and slammed her drink upon the table, causing a loud crash that echoed through the bar. She sputtered, causing a flood of the toxic liquid to fall across the table like sprayed acid. Only one or two heads turned towards her before going back to what they were doing. Alexis continued to sputter as if a hair were on her tongue, sensing little drips of ale clinging to her fiery-hot mouth. The slop she consumed on a daily basis nearly made her oral cavity feel as if she chewed on peppers, but at the very least it also killed most of her ability to feel the pain. Finally, Alexis rang her head like a bell, disorienting her until she struggled to see.
