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well,” said the half-orc. “Looky looky what we’ve got here.”
    “First!” said the elf. The half-orc shot him an annoyed glare, but then gave him a grudging nod. The elf took a quick swig from his bottle. “Ain’t been with a dwarf yet.”
    They walked toward Jorn.
    Jorn unstrapped the war-hammer at her side. The half-orc unsheathed a sword that must have weighed more than Tim.
    “Remember,” said the elf. He sounded almost giddy. “Flat of the blade. And don’t beat her up too much until after I’ve been.”
    “Calm down, man,” said the half-orc. “I know what I’m doing.”
    “I’m sorry,” said Dave. “I can’t let this happen.” He stood up straight.
    “Wait!” said Tony the Elf. “Fuck!”
    Dave didn’t wait, and neither did Tim. Local or not. He wasn’t going to hide behind a wall while these two douchenozzles raped a girl.
    “Stand down,” said Dave, taking a place beside Jorn. A shadow flickered across the magical light of a lamp post a short distance away. Ravenus was standing by in case things got ugly.
    “We’ll only give you one warning,” said Tim.
    The half-orc and the elf looked at one another and burst into giggles.
    “Oh no!” cried the half-orc in mock distress. “The hobbit’s gonna kill me with his little dagger!” He spat on the ground. “You can have the dwarf,” he said to his companion. “I think the halfling’s cuter anyway.”
    The elf laughed. “You’re such a fag.” He downed the last of whatever he was drinking and threw the bottle against the wall Tony the Elf was still hiding behind.
    “Not another step,” said Dave. He held his mace in front of him with both hands.
    “Aw,” said the half-orc. “That’s so romantic. I’ll tell you what, little guy. I’ll let you watch.”
    “That’s enough,” said Tony the Elf, finally stepping out of the shadows.
    The half-orc lowered his sword and stopped in his tracks. “Tony. It’s so good to see you.” His tone suggested otherwise. “We were just about to have a little fun with these locals.”
    “They’re not locals,” said Tony the Elf. “And you’re coming dangerously close to violating our truce.”
    “Is that right?” asked the half-orc. “New recruits, eh? Where are you guys from?”
    “Gulfport, Mississippi,” said Tim. He wasn’t really interested in having a conversation with these two, but anything that steered their minds away from murder and rape was a good thing.
    “Me too,” said Dave.
    “Boorgrummel,” said Jorn. “Stony Hills.”
    The half-orc raised an eybrow and grinned at Tony the Elf. “Sounds like the lady’s a local.”
    “Call it a night, Eric,” said Tony the Elf.
    “You’re not the boss of us,” said the elf, who was all but hiding behind the half-orc. “We can do whatever we want. We had a deal, remember?”
    “This isn’t up for discussion,” said Tony the Elf in a schoolteacher tone. “Now you two go home right now.”
    “What if we don’t wanna?” said the half-orc. “We could kill you all right now, and who’s gonna know? I’m an eighth-level fighter. I can take you all out with my eyes closed.”
    “I wouldn’t count on it,” said Tony the Elf. “I just made level four. And you two are drunk. You’ll take penalties to your Attack Rolls.”
    “What in the Abyss are you guys talking about?” asked Jorn.
    The elf stepped out from behind the half-orc with a confident grin on his face. “I don’t need to be accurate to fireball you dorks.”
    “We’re standing right next to each other, dipshit,” said Tony the Elf. “If you cast a Fireball, you’ll burn to a crisp with the rest of us.” That wiped the smug from the elf’s face. “Listen. You boys can break the truce if you want to. You might even kill us all. You’re higher level than we are. I get that. But I wouldn’t count on you both walking away from here. You know how the game is played.” He looked right at the elf. “It just makes sense for us to concentrate