Manhattan Bar and Lounge

[AdamantineFist]

A large, burly Rheinlander walks into the room, with long, blond hair reaching to his shoulders and a big, shaggy beard. His nose looks like it's been broken a couple of times, and his face is heavily scarred. He wears a thick leather jacket, with fur spilling out at the collar, and gives the appearance of a Viking warrior. He walks over to the bar and sits himself down.

"Barkeep! Some of your finest Rheinland beer, if you would please!" shouts the man. Several of the patrons next to him glance at him in annoyance as his loud, booming voice rings across the room. As the bartender bring him his beer, he gleefully grabs it up and takes a sip. "Ah excellent, my good man! This is much better than that Liberty ale. Here you go!" He tosses several credsticks over to the bartender.

After quite a few more drinks, he begins to talk to a Libertonian man next to him. "Guten Abend, my friend! My name is Harald Svenson."
"Uh, hello, Mr. Svenson. I'm Alfred Smith."
He continues to talk to Alfred, and seems to be going on about how many pirates he has killed, and the poor man looks somewhat uncomfortable and scared. Harald orders several more beers, and gives one to the man he is talking to. "Aha, much better than what you were drinking before, is it not?" The man next to him laughs somewhat uneasily, and takes a sip. "Y-yes," says the Libertonian, "I-it's quite, um, strong."

This goes on for a bit longer, and Harald ends up singing several boisterous, and somewhat obscene, songs. Eventually, though, a large, thuggish looking man takes a seat beside him. Although not very tall, the thug more than makes up for it in muscle and width, appearing incredibly squat and sturdy. His head is shaved, with tattoos running down the back, and he has a long scar running down the right side of his face which leaves his face in a permanent scowl.

"A Rheinlander, huh?" says the thug, "We don't need your kind here. I suggest you leave. Now." At that, several other men appear from the crowd. One is tall and thin, moving with unusual grace, and the other is a somewhat unassuming man, balding a bit, and looking slightly overweight.

"Eh? What's this now?" says Harald, now somewhat drunk. "You dare to insult my heritage? By das Gottkanzler, I will give you a beating you will never forget!"
Alfred Smith looks franticly from man to man, looking for a way out, and gives a whimper of fear as Harald stands up from his seat.

"That was unwise of you, Rheinlander," sneers the scarred thug. With that, the balding man pulls out some brass knuckles, and lunges at Harald. Harald quickly dodges the man, and, in doing so, exposes himself to the tall man. The tall man lunges out with snakelike speed and begins pummeling Harald in the back with one hand, while grabbing his throat with the other. The scarred thug jumps up and attempts to slam his fut into Harald's gut, but Harald is too quick. He lunges off to one side, bringing his left arm up to deflect the blow, and trips up the balding man with his foot. He then spins around, catching the tall man in the stomach with his left elbow, and bringing his right leg up to strike at the thug's knee. The thug drops to his knees, and Harald then reaches back and grabs the tall man, lifting him up and throwing him into the bar. The balding man, by now back to his feet, charges Harald, who deftly sidesteps. Harald then grabs up a barstool and slams it into the balding man's back, breaking one of the legs in the process. While Harald was otherwise occupied, the scarred thug stands up and reaches into his jacket to produce a firearm. "Look out!" screams Alfred, "He's got a gun!"

As the thug pulls out his gun, Harald drops to his knees and uses his left leg to sweep the thug's legs out from under him. The thug's gun discharges wildly, sending several bursts of laser fire into the ceiling and walls. Harald jumps down on top of him, and wrestles with him for control of the gun. By now, the part of the bar near the combatants has been cleared, and the bartender is frantically calling the police behind the bar. Alfred jumps behind the bar, and is whimpering and praying for his life when he hears a meaty thud, and the sounds of struggle cease. He risks a quick glance over the top of the bar, and sees that Harald has knocked the thug unconscious. Harald picks up the gun and places it on the bar next to him. He has many bruises and cuts across his face, and is wearing an expression of triumph. "Let that be a lesson to those who would trifle with Harald Svenson!" He says, and leans exhaustedly against the bar.

One table has been smashed completely, as well as a couple of chairs, and the remains of the barstool Harald battered the bald man with lie beside the bar. The door to the bar bursts open, and several police officers rush in. They apprehend Svenson, and some medics are called in to take away the three thugs. Alfred, as well as a couple of other patrons are taken aside for questioning as witnesses. After they all leave, the bartender slumps against the bar, a haggard look on his face. He gives a deep sigh. "Thank god that's over."

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