Chapter 2 - Mila
Mila sat at the bar of the Ogre's Drum, chin resting on her hand, flagon of bitter dark ale growing warm in front of her. Ordinarily the orc was an enthusiastic drinker, but today she nursed her drink, long lashed eyelids half closed, a bored frown twisted on her tusked mouth.
Behind the bar the huge ogre bartender swished a rag around the inside of empty glass and looked concernedly over at her friend. "What's got you troubled lass?" she enquired in her low, heavily accented voice. The arr sounds tumbled and rolled out of her mouth.
"Ah, sheeit, Jo. I need a job," sighed the orc.
"You know you can always come work for me again. Last time you were turning tricks here you made fat sacks of coin."
Jolene ran the Ogre's Drum, a two story tavern and brothel in the heart of Top Town. Situated in an old, three story wattle and daub manse deep in the spiderweb of streets and alleys that tangled through the core of the mountain city, the Ogre's Drum was renowned throughout the Shrouded Mountains as a place where one could acquire a drink, a fuck or a rumour of almost any flavour. As Mila lamented her circumstances to Jolene, various patrons filled the booths, tables and stools at the bar. Here, a scarred human barbarian hunched over a blister-whisky, there, two goblins chattered in hushed tones with a figure wearing a hooded black cloak, while at the main staircase a muscled half-orc woman was led upwards to the rooms where the more physical entertainment took place by a grinning elven lothario.
"Ha, thanks Jo, but I don't need the coin, as much fun as earning it can be. I'm still flush after that last job. Nah, I need to stretch my legs on the road. Gotta get out of this town before ol' Alagar gets hooked on you and grows fat," replied Mila, speaking of her warg. The huge, wise, wolf-like creature had gotten comfortable over the past weeks, sleeping behind the bar and getting far too many treats from the tavern's friendly staff.
At mention of his name the napping beast cracked open a golden eye and peered his shaggy, black-furred muzzle around the corner of the bar before yawning and resuming his doze. He'd travelled and battled beside Mila for years now, and the two hand formed a bond that went beyond friendship. His eight foot frame was heavily muscled and bore many scars that spoke of the numerous fights he had borne the orc through.
"Well, if I hear of anything I'll toss it your way before I pin it on the board," the ogre barkeep said, nodding her head in the direction of the wooden job board near the door. The messages that were currently pinned to it were mostly minor jobs and caravan escorts - nothing really worth the gold or time of an experienced orc warg rider.
If she was going to say more, she didn't have an opportunity as two brawling figures came tumbling down the stairs. Both clad in the fur and hide armour of the northern barbarian tribes, the two humans were viciously punching and grappling punching one another while two goblin half dressed goblin sisters looked down at them from the top of the stairs, laughing jovially.
"Jo! Got a couple of idiots that need to leave!" one of them shouted.
Jolene had already turned, retrieving a metal studded bat from under the bar as she did so. The club would have taken two hands for a human to even consider lifting, but the brawny ogre easily hefted with her right hand as she made her way towards the fur clad fighters.
"Need a hand?" enquired Mila.
"I got this," came the rumbling response.
Nine feet tall and covered in muscles that had to move to get out of the way of more muscles, Jolene was a dab hand at breaking up a brawl. Top Town was a rough place, full of many of the toughest individuals to walk the Shrouded Mountains, and most of them knew to get the fuck out of the way when they saw the brown skinned, hulking form of Jolene striding their way, club in hand. The tall barkeep wore a tight fitting gambeson, low cut to show off her impressive cleavage, but a practical piece of armour, thick enough to turn a knife thrust, nonetheless. Leather trousers and steel capped leather boots made up the rest of her apparel, ideal for a barkeep who had to finish many a fight before furniture got wrecked.
Mila took a swig from her flagon and watched as the ogre waded between the brawlers. Jolene reached out with a massive hand, yanking one of the battling figures away from the other, interposing her huge form between the two.
"Oi!, You two! OUT! NOW!" she bellowed.
As one barbarian dangled helplessly from Jolene's left fist, the other drew a wicked looking curved knife from his boot.
"That was stupid," remarked Mila to no-one in particular.
Jolene's right hand made in a quick jabbing movement with the hilt of her bat and the knife wielding human was rewarded for drawing his weapon with a broken nose and at least five missing teeth. His eyes rolled back and he collapsed to the floor, unconscious, and Jolene began hauling his now much more subservient opponent toward the door.
While the scene was resolved, Mila felt a presence at her side. "Can I help you?" she asked, glancing to the right to see a black cloaked figure at her elbow.
In the gloom beneath the cloaked figure's hood, Mila's fine vision could make out a tan skinned, quite attractive female human face with plump lips, wide set brown eyes and coal black hair.
