“You’ve got the wrong guy!” She shouted, dazed and confused from the punch. The hobgoblin woman stumbled back, tripping over a pile of crates and smashing her head onto the bar counter. “Ow ow ow…” She rubbed the back of her head as she sat on the floor.

“No, no I don’t think so.” The muscular human man reached down and lifted the impish creature with one hand around her neck, thicker than most imps as it was. She gasped for air while grasping at his arm with both hands. Behind the human, a red half-elf-tiefling walked up to the two.

“I hate to say it but the story checks out. This is the imp, keep her steady.” The half-demon towered over her and the man and held her shoulder with his left hand, grabbing her horn with his right.

“W-whoa, you’re not gonna—“ He tore the horn off in one swift motion and dropped it into the handbag hanging by his waist. She stared at the human for a moment before letting out a quiet scream, her beck still held. A blue-purple liquid dripped from the jagged stump on her right temple.

“There we are. Hey, everyone! We walked in here and killed the imp. We crushed her head to the point it became indistinguishable and ripped her horn off. Is that clear?” The tiefling shouted to the crowd which had grown deafly silent. The human dropped the blue creature to the ground and turned to walk out of the bar. The tiefling followed. A dwarf pushed through the doors and took one glance around before glaring at the duo. In an instant, he held one open palm out in front of him with the other held tight to a fork from the table next to the entrance.

“You two, it looks a lot like you’ve done finished up hurting my date. I’ll give you one minute before showing you a thing or two of Dwarven chivalry.” The brutish human threw the table in front of him to the side and shoved the dwarf with both arms. He did not budge. A sigh escaped the tiefling.

“I’m not so sure violence will solve this one, Gregorian, might we try talking it out?” The human scowled at the tiefling and back at the dwarf before folding his arms and standing aside.

“Fine. Fly at it, buddy.” He glanced to the imp who was holding tight to her stump, still on her knees. He promptly looked away.

“What’s your name, dwarf?” The half-elf asked.

“Jersson, and what of you, demon?”

“Locilliax, but you’re free to drop the x for convenience. Now, this isn’t what it appears at first glance.” He kept his breaths steady and his eyes calm. No fear flowed through him, not outwardly. The imp pushed herself up, one hand still held to her temple. If it were to grow back, it would spiral and twist. And no doubt it will hurt.

“Oh is that so? Well, I do be eager to hear why my date lay bleeding, her beautiful horn nothing but a bloody hole. Do tell me, demon.” The dwarf stared back, his eyes full of an almost unbridled rage. Gregorian darted his eyes between the two.

“I can’t say, not all of it. But rest assured, this is in all parties' best interest. Especially since the alternative is…” He shook his head. “Might a few gold pieces for you and your lady keep this bridge between us clear of the coming flames? If only until we reach the door.” The tiefling took out a pouch from his bag and removed four gold coins. The hobgoblin’s blue blood stained the pouch.

As he brought the coins out in front of the dwarf, the imp jumped onto his back, scratching and tearing the skin along his shoulders and back. With an unhinged jaw, she clamped down on his neck and bit off a chunk of red flesh. Gregorian grabbed her by the arm and flung her across the bar, slamming her against the wall. With her flew off more of the red skin that she had been grabbing onto. Orange blood fell from the wounds as Locillia held tight to his neck. His ears shot up, his pupils dilated, and his claws extended several inches. The dwarf wasted no time, lunging forward with his stubby hand and shoving the demon away, spinning toward the human and swiping at his face with the fork. Gregorian stumbled back, the blades narrowly scraping the skin of his nose. The demon slithered his arms around the dwarf and held a four-inch long claw to his jugular.

“Stop this, and surren—“ The demon began to negotiate. Jersson bit down on two of the claws, snapping them in half before repeating the motion, this time biting off two of the tiefling’s fingers down to the second joint. In doing so, a third claw plunged into his neck, missing the windpipe. The demon pushed himself away from the dwarf and held his hand up, eyeing the wound before sticking the bloody stubs into his mouth.

“Oh, lords…” Gregorian said, turning for the door. As he made a run for the exit, Locillia lunged forward and grabbed him by the shoulder.

“Oh no, nobody can leave, not yet.” He began to laugh hysterically while Gregorian winded up a punch. Locillia’s eyes widened as the punch was loosed at his face. He swayed to the side to avoid it.

“You get away from me, demon! This is why I tried to refuse the job!” He shouted over the crowd, many of whom hid under tables with cutlery held tight to their chests. The demon shoved his injured hand into the human’s gut, impaling him with the remaining four nails. Red blood spat out of his mouth and onto the tiefling’s face. Locilliax licked the blood from around his mouth.

“Not as sweet, almost bitter even. Metallic… Garbage.” The imp rushed between the six-and-a-half-foot tall man, raising a knife above her head as she cleared him. The blade stuck the demon in the stomach. He recoiled and fell to the floor, clutching the knife in both hands. The dwarf, now standing behind the fallen demon, brought down a chalice on his head, knocking him out cold. The claws rescinded and his pupils returned to their normal size before shutting.

“Get him some help.” The dwarf pointed to Gregorian who was laying on the ground, groaning with a hand cupping his gut. Blood of red and orange mixed below the four. “Now we had plans if I do remember, miss Meloditty.” The stout dwarf wiped the blood away from the wound on his neck and held a hand out to the imp who was sitting on the floor. She looked at the dwarf and tilted her head as she accepted the help. Even the dwarf towered over her by well over a foot.

“A shaman should be here soon, and I need to have this healed… Buuut that won’t be for ten minutes at least. Bartender!” Meloditty yelled at the cowering bartender, eager to finally get on with her date for the evening. I’ve seen worse first impressions, she thought.