(Crossing, Zoluren: Moliko 363)
A war-haggerd ranger stepped into the bar, days of battle bearing on him. He stood wounded, but that was to be expected of anyone who is in a war. He sat, much to his own discomfort, and addressed Baresh. "Allo Baresh, I could really use something ta drink, me thinks."
Baresh looked at him and wondered why he wasn’t off getting healed. "What do you want friend?"
"Anything that would hurt a dwarf." He grinned.
Beresh cringed, knowing what the ranger was asking. "I’ll tell ye what, since I not wanna kill ya. I give you some a dis." He held up some Death Spirit Grog.
He nodded and leaned back. "I tell ye what, this war not fun for those like me. I’m small in comparison to most who fight. But I tell ye what, even though an archer can take me down without aiming, or a mage can rip me apart with a bolt, I still out there doing my part, dragging those in trouble out and shooting my weak shots at enemies when I can." He smiled. "It’s funny though. I’m only of 8 circles myself, and I have done great things in this war. Sure, I’m not killing everything, or anything for that matter, but I’m saving people and helping where I can. I don’t see why people aren’t helping, when their strength is greater than mine. My body has almost traveled the starry road twice since this war started. I think of it as doing my part for the greater good of everyone. I think everyone should be doing the same." He grabbed his shot and downed it with ease. "War makes ya tough." He grinned.
Baresh was laughing, "Ya go get healed and get back out there."
"Oh I will be. Doing my part for Elanthia." He stood and walked out, leaving baresh a few silvers to pay for his drink and a tip. He popped his head back in. "Oh, one more thing."
"It you see Gurt, can ya ask him if he ever lands anything but a devastating hit?" He grinned and ran away, leaving Baresh grinning.