Firion, in his mind, had no weaknesses. He excelled in combat, knew how to play at his strengths to get what he wanted from people, had incredible street smarts, and over all had set himself up for an easy life. 

Until now. 

Now he stood gazing amidst a group of people, utterly unsure of what to do next, Where to go, who he should talk to, or, for the first time, what he would do in life. Firion succeeded because he was a follower, he did the jobs others asked him to do, didn’t ask questions, and focused on himself. Sure, he’d quit some of his jobs, but he never had to worry about the repercussions. It was a risk they knew they were taking, and he knew they would always have to take that risk. He knew that as long as he kept doing what he was, he’d never run out of options. 

Now he was up here in front of everybody in the whole tavern, not only quitting his role as a mercenary, but also trying to rally some sort of dream team out of people who openly hate him to fight an evil organization that for all purposes didn’t exist. Which failed miserably. And that was because he wasn’t a leader, he wasn’t the kind of person that could inspire people or put together a team. He was a follower.

The Dwarf stood up, let out a laugh and said. “The gig is up! Firion has officially run out of lies!” 

“I swear I'm not lying this time!” Firion responded. 

“This time, so you have lied before, but this time we should believe you!” 

Ashla shot out of her chair. “He's telling the truth! You have to believe him! I experienced what happened too! If me being a glitch is possible why is it so unlikely that the alpha clan exists?” 

The Dwarf’s smile broadened. “Oh, I believe that there is some sort of clan chasing after you, but never in a blue moon would I believe that firion would suddenly quit his storied career of being a heartless mercenary to help save the world! Firion doesn't care about the people he meets or what happens after he leaves. He  never cared whether live or died, he just cared about staying alive no matter the cost.” The dwarf’s face then turned cold. “Once he gets what he wants he’ll cut and run, I can attest to that, and one day you will too.” 

Ashla couldn’t stand this place any longer. Sure, Firion was a mercenary, and she could believe that sometimes he put himself above his mission, but he wasn’t heartless. At least she didn’t think he was. How could he be? Could he, NO. 

Ashla walked up to Firion and pulled on his arm. 

“Let’s go somewhere people don’t accuse us for a change.” 

The Dwarf stood up and said. “No.” 

“What?” Firion and Ashla said in unison. 

“I think I speak for everyone here when I say that I’m tired of your bull. I’m tired of being scammed by you, and it’s time for it to stop.” said the dwarf so everyone could hear. People around the tavern commented words of approval, some even cheered. 

Firion faced the Dwarf. “What are you saying?” 

“I’m saying we should take you down and end this game of yours! I’ve had enough of your crap!” 

Shouts echoed all around the tavern. Everyone stood up, hollering and pulling out weapons of various types and sizes. Firion had been in a couple bar fights, but this was nothing like he’d ever seen. But he knew what he was going to do. He was going to stand his ground and make sure that everyone knew, this time Firion was done with running.

“Are we really doing this?!” Ashla yelled out, reaching for her staff. 

“We don’t really have a choice!” Firion replied. 

The Tavern was filled with shouts and yells as people prepared to battle. All except for the bartender, who was currently on break. He was in the middle of a juicy murder mystery book, and he needed to finish the chapter. The book was written by a local author who the bartender followed. One time he even met him at a book signing. 

On lesser matters Firion and Ashla were preparing for the oncoming horde. The crowd all formed behind the dwarf as the last few patrons got ready.

(Thanks for reading!)