So Lonely...

'Twas a lonely Monday last evening, as only two of the Ubergoobers were able to play: just +Rob Conley and me. Rob ran me through a great little scenario to practice the combat rules of his WIP Majestic Wilderlands Fudge Game. Rob's scenario was super fun, despite how lonely it was without the other goobers...

Ubergoobers -- German for "Outlandos"

I played Olaf Ibsen, a strapping lad who just arrived in town looking for some work he could do with his fists. The local mercenary captain had no openings, but put in a good word for me with Lorel, the owner of the Coin and Broom Tavern, who hired me as his bouncer. The first evening's work started off well enough, and I managed a polite introduction to the town constabulary, as well as talking an annoying peddlar out of the bar, instead of having to throw him out. 

Then came in a rambunctious lot who'd just gotten off a long day's construction work on the city walls. They hadn't been in the tavern more than a minute before they tried to pick a fight with someone they said was sitting at "their" table.  I tried to talk them into leaving well enough alone, but they were having none of it. I told them Lorel didn't want any fights in his tavern. They declared it was "their" tavern, not Lorel's. I said as far as I knew it was Lorel's. He was my boss, and he paid me to put folks that insisted on starting trouble out into the street. 

The big beefy leader of the workers slugged me. Hard. I went down bleeding. With a "hurt" result on the dice, and a consequent penalty on my own dice for the rest of the fight, I had my work cut out for me. The ruffian tried to grapple me and throw me to the ground. He was getting better rolls than I was. This was not good.

I thought: "If only I could be killed by an orc over some treasure. At least there's something glorious, something epic in that. But to take a beating from a common tavern thug. How humiliating. And first day on the job, too."

In desperation I somehow managed to break free of my adversary's grasp and stepped back. I pulled my broad sword. "You don't want to continue this fight." I said. I was wrong. He did. Which he demonstrated by swinging a bar stool at my head. 

I managed to block it. And the broad sword became more than an equalizer.  Now instead of humiliation, I was wondering if the local law would hang me for gutting this fellow. He dodged a few of my swings, but his luck could not hold forever. Finally my blade found its mark, and the tough went down, alive, but bleeding like a sieve. 

I pointed my dripping red weapon toward the exit. "There's the door lads. It's time you used it." The worker's buddies carried him out.

Lorel's wife came out and bandaged my head where the man had slugged me. Lorel himself told me I didn't need to worry about the law. They wouldn't get involved in a bar fight like this. It turns out these same boys had been coming in hassling his customers for a while now. Beat up more than one of his previous bouncers, too. Said he was glad he'd hired me. 

Me too, really. I think I'm going to like this job.