Fridgar hesitated, this was a terrible idea. Fuck it, for Ilaren he thought before standing up from his table. Ilaren, watch this. It’s gonna be fucking awesome, I promise He prayed quickly in his head, it had been some time since he'd done anything awesome for Ilaren. A quick look to Rufus, the tavern keeper, with a wink revealed his intentions. Rufus dropped the mug he'd been cleaning in disbelief, it shattered upon impact with the floor. "FRIDGAR! DON'T YOU DARE! I JUST REPLACED THOSE TABLES!! The older male roared before ducking for cover.
"'Scuse me, lads." Fridgar spoke, sitting at the table with the three men. The middle man maintained his glare on Fridgar, the same one he'd had for the entirety of Fridgar's calm drink. "Drop that look, or I'm sending you flying." Fridgar declared, looking to the male with a raised eyebrow. "Fuck off, ugly cunt." The middle man spat in his face, his two friends erupted with laughter. Fridgar exhaled, putting his fingers to the saliva in his eye and wiping it away. His eye shifted to the male, iris shrinking into the black. After a trill or two of their laughter, Fridgar lunged forward gripped the middle man by the hair and pulled, his face collided with the table, broke through the table and impact the floor, hard.
Fridgar crossed his arms, "Lucky you, you didn't go flying.". His two friends looked to the Lothar gobsmacked before the left got up and punched Fridgar in the jaw. What the male hadn't realised was that Fridgar’s bones were harder than his, the male immediately threw his hand between his legs, groaning with pain and his sprained hand throbbed with pain. Fridgar shot up from his chair and gripped the male, lifting him over his head. A nearby couple ran out the door behind him, Fridgar remained oblivious. The male that had been on the right got up and immediately began to punch Fridgar in the gut, his fists almost tickled against his sheer mass of muscle. With a sadistic grin, he threw the male above him to the floor through his friend. Both landed on the floor, screaming with pain as something broke at the double impact.
The Lothar wasn't done there, he gripped the floored male, the one that had been crushed by his friend, and lifted. He spun on the spot in circles before releasing, throwing the man across the room and through another bloke's table. Over the space of a bit, the entire tavern had erupted into a massive brawl. The giant man dominated the battlefield, shrugging off every hit from their comparably tiny fists and throwing people like bowling balls through skittles, the skittles being more people. He'd not punched anyone in fear of killing them in public, but had grabbed plenty of people crudely. Fridgar stood in the middle of the bar, bodies lining the venue, groaning and sobbing with pain. His foot found itself leaning on a pile of three people, his clawed hands shot to the sides, stretching out his chest with his head thrust upward. He roared, declaring himself the victor.
The guards showed up mid-roar, a dozen or so all fully armed. The hung around in the doorway, looking in with scared faces. Fridgar looked over his shoulder, his black eyes glinting in the dim light. "Come on then, Let's go to the dungeon." Fridgar grinned, handing himself over to the guards. He'd left his totems at home, getting into a fight with lots of pointy things was a bad idea in Fridgar form.
Hilarious, the guard had attempted to throw him into the cell, Fridgar didn't even budge. The tiny man pressed against his back, struggling under Fridgar's tremendous weigh and strength. Fridgar looked over his shoulder with his hands bound in shackle in front of him "Say please." Fridgar demanded. "Please!?" The Guard behind him shrieked between breaths as he pressed against the 300lb mass of muscle. Fridgar complied, stepping into his cell and sending the man behind him stumbling. Fridgar laughed.
Whatchya think, Ilaren? Was that sick or what? he prayed as the guards locked the cell door behind him. He sighed, could she even hear him? Nah, forget being all sad about it, just keep stirring hell until she notices. Fridgar roared in his cell. "I was arrested for my religion!" he declared kicking the bar with the flat of his foot. The dungeon broke out into an uproar, all proclaiming their injustice. With a smile, Fridgar took a seat at the wall. Who would be his jailer for the evening and could they keep up?