Short story: Untitled
“But… But… The bar.” Ornolf whimpered from the entire left side of the booth.
Slowly, the four faces of his closest allies turned to stare at him from the tables they had pulled up. There was a solid mix of incredulity, awe and baffled confusion.
“The town is going to be under siege in about an hour.” Mary gaped. The petite woman, still wearing the dark striped hide caked in dirt from their last little excursion, actually sputtered for a moment. Shock was writ along her pale face. “People are leaving the town in droves and I’m pretty sure they have the right idea. We really should go!”
“But… The bar!” Ornolf said again. Somehow, the monstrous brute of a half-viking-half-something-probably-half-of-something-else-too hybrid looked terrified. They never were able to figure out exactly