If you have force of war:

  The man’s eyes glow white, crackling purple energy flickering around his body. He looks like a mess, but he’s still a threat—maybe.

  You draw your sword with a lazy smirk. “Alright, what are you even doing here?”

  He grins, revealing wild, twitchy eyes. “Just having some fun,” he slurs. “Can’t a guy enjoy himself?”

  You roll your eyes. “You’re off your rocker,” you say, “and you're about to regret it if you don't leave here right now."

  "Try me." He snaps, crushing the crystal pipe in his hand.

  He charges with a howl, throwing a wild punch. You sidestep effortlessly.

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  “C’mon, man, you gotta be faster than that.”

  He swings again, faster this time, but you slip out of range, dodging like it’s nothing. “Really? That was pathetic.”

  He charges again, trying to tackle you, but you just dance out of his way. You jab him in the ribs with the end of your sword, sending him stumbling back. He’s still on his feet, but barely.

  “You swing like a drunk,” you taunt, walking in circles around him. "And you picked the wrong fight today."

  With a growl, he leaps toward you, fists outstretched. You don’t even flinch. As he falls toward you, you slice across his chest with one smooth motion, the blade cutting deep.

  Blood sprays out from his body in an arc.

  He crumples to the ground, wheezing, clutching his bleeding wound. He’s done. “I won’t mess with you again... just... let me go,” he mutters, defeated.

  You wipe the blood from your blade, unimpressed. “Next time, stay out of town. Don’t make me deal with you again."

  The man stumbles to his feet, eyes wide with fear, and takes off into the streets, swearing under his breath.

  You turn, sheathing your sword. “What a joke.”

  With that, you head back to the guild, ready for your 12 copper.

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