Dream and Nightmare

Chapter 18 - Scum

The song didn't stop. It grew steadily louder and faster until people were up out of their seats, stomping on the floor, banging on the tables, and shouting the apparently vile words as loud as they could. 

"You're such a prude!" Rendel shouted at Felidy over the noise. The alcohol had soothed their relationship just slightly.  

"You're disgusting!" she shouted back. 

"Aye, but I think you already knew that!" He winked at her again.  

A scowl returned to her face as hit him hard enough to send him stumbling. She stood, taking her drink with her as she disappeared into the crowd. Rendel sat down across from Anah, rubbing his face. "Did I deserve that?" he asked Anah, keeping his eye on Felidy. 

"I think so." 

A dark look crossed his face as he stood up again, pulling a knife from his belt. "I need you to duck, my love." 

His voice was deep and dangerous, and there was a slightly crazed look in his eyes, so she complied without question. The knife whipped through the air above her head, and a loud scream of pain silenced the crowd as they looked about for the source of the commotion.  

"I'm so sorry!" Rendel shouted, standing up on his chair with surprising ease for such an obviously inebriated man. As the crowd got even quieter, he lowered his voice so he didn't have to yell. "You see, I was aiming for the girl, but as your hands were all over her, you must've gotten in the way." 

Anah searched through the crowd and saw a man next to Felidy who had Rendel's knife sticking out of his hand, brilliant, orange blood dripping to the floor. "I have an idea!" Rendel exclaimed with his practiced sarcasm. "How about you keep your filthy hands off of her, you fat, perverted bag of scum, and we can avoid this little mistake from happening again?" 

The man was nearly as large as Kellen, and he and his five large friends looked furious. He pulled the knife from his hand, throwing it back at Rendel who dodged easily. "You're a dead little bastard!" 

"Technically, no. My parents were legally married unlike your whore of a mum, and dirt-bag criminal of a father. I think that makes you the bastard, if I'm not mistaken." Rendel's voice was light on the surface, but there was an undertone of danger that would've paralyzed Anah with fear had he been talking to her. 

The man was an unnatural shade of red as he shot a ball of blue magic in Rendel's direction. "I'll kill you!" 

Rendel leaped to the tabletop, curtsying to his new friend. "If you want to dance, we'll dance!" He called as his hands flared in green magic.  

The half of the crowd that recognized it gasped and moved away from him, sudden fear in their eyes. The other half figured out it was bad news from their reactions. The room had never been quieter.  

Rendel's face now betrayed his threatening fury. "Don't let me catch you touching her like that again. Or any of these lovely ladies unless they so invite you to. Understand?" 

His face was purple. "I don't take orders from any filthy Shriians!" 

A cold smile crossed his face. "Me? I'm not Shriian. Just an enthusiast of dark magic, and man who can easily kick your exceedingly, large ass. How about you get out of this bar, and leave everyone to enjoy their night before your blood becomes a wall covering?" 

The man scowled, grumbling about how, "this isn't over," and, "next time you're dead," as he left with his big friends. 

A quiet stayed over the room, even as the green magic faded from his hands. The bartender finally spoke up. "Are you Shriian? We don't want any trouble."