Every time without fail, before their names were called up to serve in battle for the Ancient's, Rigwarl, Ymir and the Brewmaster would each throw back a tumbler. Then after the fight they'd throw back another.
Or twenty. It depended on whether they won or lost.
Sometimes.
The quaint, abandoned tavern they came across one day while searching for a bar served as their drinking hole. A few minutes off the beaten path, was their two story pub, and vacation home for the trio. Nestled in a clearing of the nearby forest, the decrepit shack stood, lonely and pitiful. When the three regular boozers explored the insides, they glanced about with admiration, and slight jealousy at what the place once was.
The bottom floor was one whole room, scattered with cobwebs and splintered furniture. Along the left wall was a bar, void of any drinks, and filled with many bugs. On the other side of the door, a stage and its nearby musician's area stood silent, undercover of the second floor. The stage's tattered and torn curtains were drawn on the emptiness of the room. Opposite from the bar was a wall of seating booths, sheltered under the staircase to the second floor. Upstairs, the bordered landing was a narrow one way street for a few feet, until it opened up to a large landing area, with a only single grotty sofa left. Along the walls of the upstairs were doors, each leading into a room for travelers or for some lucky folk, though each of these rooms were in worse condition than the last.
It was a unanimous no-brainer for Rigwarl, Ymir and Magnix. They had to fix it up. Even if they had little to no knowledge on carpentry or interior design or the like, whatever they ended up with was going to be a hundred times better than when they found it. Though their refurbishing of the wooden shack was amateur at best, it made do for the trio. The bar was restocked, the floor boards didn't threaten to collapse under their weight and most of the webs were gone. Rigwarl tried to fix the roof on his own, but gave up quickly and shoved the job onto Ymir's shoulders. As long as they had beer on the tap, thanks to Magnix, a roof over their head, thanks to Ymir, and seats to sit in, thanks to Rigwarl, they were happy.
Each visit to their home-away-from-home, the three best friends shared stories of their life before the battling on either side of the river began. Tales of adventure to new lands, legendary brawls with gods and kings, discoveries of treasures in ancient tombs. All were thrown across their circular table next to the bar. Each yarn was told as truthfully and as honestly as a man with six pints of ale down their throat would.
"Then next thing I knew, I was standing face to face with a frost dragon. Ho boy," Tusk began chuckling, "did his jaw shatter something fierce. Suppose he didn't know I break ice like Rigwarl here loses fights!" Magnix and Ymir bellowed in laughter, slapping their knees and slapping the table the trio sat at.
"Oi!" The livid Rigwarl roared, his sharp finger pointed up at his cheerful friend. "You and I both know that since I got 'ere, I got even." The one-eyed ex-bouncer's frown turned into triumphant and smug grin. Tusk's smile stayed, however.
"I suppose you're right Rigwarl. You've only improved since I first met you in that pub so long ago."
"Don't you know it."
"Well I'm still one up on both of you! Aha!" The Brewmaster exclaimed joyfully, jumping from his chair and grabbing them both under his arms tight, a full tankard of ale in each hand. "I hope you know that hedgehog!"
"Yeah, it's not like you can't split into three ghosts or nothin'." Bristleback sarcastically grumbled out out from under his big panda bear arm. With mischievous grin, Rigwarl reached around his back and plucked one of his sharper spines from his hide. Magnix heard only a sadistic giggle before a stabbing pain erupted from his hind quarters.
"Ow!" He squealed, letting the pair go and dropping his two drinks. Loud guffawing began exploding from Ymir and Rigwarl as they watched the resident bartender rubbing his boo-booed behind. When Tusk's chuckling calmed down to an occasional wheeze, a rapping came at the door.
"Get that will you?" Magnix moaned. While Bristleback's cackling continued, the Brewmaster grumbled "I need a new drink," as he hobbled over to the counter. With a loyal, cheerful salute, Tusk went to see who was tapping.
Grasping the rusted the handle with his famed fist, the faint voices of the visitors entered his ears. All three he recognized, kind of, bringing his cool, northern heart to warm. Though Bristleback didn't enjoy other people coming to their barroom, both Tusk and Magnix welcomed it with open arms.
"Welcome..." he slowly trailed off, looking quizzically at the three new guests to wander to their door. His guess was wrong. Very wrong. Usually it was Sylla, Ulfsaar and Furion who turned up looking for a quick cold one. They were the only ones who knew that the placed existed, since they stumbled upon Rigwarl hanging from the roof with a rope tied around his ankle. That was shortly before Tusk was given the job of fixing the roof.
This time however, a different group of three stood at the doorway. Twitching in every direction, Rubick the Grand Magus looked on with muffled gasps of awe. On either side of him, both half his size, was Meepo, and Slark, both looking very excited.
"Hello Ymir!" Rubick exclaimed, holding out his green, gloved hand. Tusk joyfully accepted and shook with vigor, something Rubick giggled joyfully at. "Oh, it's good to see you in a place where the threat of death isn't so high." The bear held in the urge to scoff as he glanced down out the corner of his eye at the nearby ex-convict.
"You too wizard. Please, come in." He stepped aside, rolling his arm and urging them to enter. Instantly, the tunnel rat and the ex-con's eyes lit up as they lay upon the bar, manned by the Brewmaster. They ran forward, leaving behind a chuckling Rubick to find a seat.
"Um, Rubick?" Tusk closed the door behind him, lest some of the wildlife pay a visit. As the magus stood there, expectantly waiting for a question he knew was coming and knew the answer to, the northern born bear mentally ran over ways in which ask as tactfully as possible. "Now, I'm not saying those two are, y'know, evil bad guys, but are you sure they're not?"
As awkward and rotten it felt for him to ask, Ymir felt justified in popping the question. They flew the flag of the Dire. They were among the ranks of Lucifer and demons and undead, fighting on their side, day in, day out. Though he doubted Meepo had the same long term goal as the Doombringer, he didn't doubt there was a reason why the Ancient chose him for its side.
"Those two? Bah, they're harmless." He scoffed, confusing, and slightly annoying the joint owner. Calling either one of them 'harmless' was a flat out lie, and both of them knew it. Catching his raised brow, Rubick continued. "We may disagree regularly and we may have differing morals, but I must concede, these two are my friends. As much as I hate to admit it." He whined sarcastically, giggling for a second after.
Tusk opened to his mouth to question the absurdity of the grand magus hanging around with a fish out of water and a geomancer with a split something disorder.
"And before you ask why, simply because they are fun. The two of them are a rather big joy to be around. Everyone else tells me, 'you must use your abilities wisely'." Tusk recognized the voice he was doing a remarkably good job at impersonating, who he assumed was the Templar Assassin.
"If you do not trust them, at least trust me. Now, if you'll excuse me, I have a glass to empty." And with, Rubick marched over to his sitting compadres, both having quickly gulped down a pint each. Tusk chuckled as they began urging him to catch up, and heard theirs, and Magnix's chanting as he did.
As he watched, a grin plastered over his face, he couldn't bring himself to be dislike the two Dire patrons based on that badge alone. Off the battlefield, he was determined to give them a chance.
Ymir was about to join them before 'I don't bloody trust 'em' was whispered in his ear. Crouched by his side, attempting to keep his rather large stature out of sight, Bristleback eyed both Meepo and Slark, and even Rubick with suspicion.
"Rigwarl, why?" He sighed, clutching the bridge of his nose. When he thought about it, his spiny friend had more than enough reason to distrust them, given he wasn't involved in the earlier conversation with the wizard.
"They's Dire! Or 'ave you forgot about that?" He hissed through gritted teeth, returning to glare at the oblivious soon-to-be drunks.
"They are also just looking for a drink. Come on Bristle, let's just go say hello. Trust me, they won't cause trouble." Sensing his stubbornness, Rigwarl sighed and deflated, slumping down and slowly following him to the counter. While he was walking over, Tusk noticed the uncomfortable dryness in his mouth, probably from not consuming his usual seven pints by that point in the evening.
"Hey! Ymir! Thanks for letting these three in. They're fun!" Magnix stood behind the counter, handing out drinks and making his own. "Meepo here was telling us about the time he ran into an ancient stone golem."
"Ah ah ah." He chided playfully, grinning and curling his twig in his mouth. "It was a gargoyle. Not a golem."
"Eh, same difference."
"Yeah, well, you wouldn't call Tiny out on your lawn out there a gargoyle would y'?" For a moment, Tusk, Bristleback and the Brewmaster exchanged looked of confusion before returning their attention back to their newest patrons.
"What? You can't see 'im? Never mind, as I was sayin', I found this huge, underground cathedral, yeah. Like huge! Four times the size of this place. Thing was covered in these really spooky bat things, and just as I was about to bail on account of seeing one of 'em move in the corner of my eye, I see it." Everyone apart from Rigwarl was fascinated in the story, subconsciously leaning in to circle the geomancer. "The biggest gem I've ever seen in my life. I'd say the thing was as big as Brewy's belly here, but as hard as it is to believe, that wouldn't give the jewel justice."
Rigwarl tried, really, really tried to not let out the snicker he desperately tried to hold in, but just couldn't. Thankfully, only Tusk noticed, glancing his way and giving a knowing smile and a pat on the back of the neck. It took quite some time for Ymir to stop patting him on the back when he first met him.
"I ran over to it, just in awe of the size of it. Y'know, I'd say the thing could've been classified as a wonder of the world or somethin'. When I got near it, a freakin' gargoyle came swooping out from behind me and snatched it up!"
"Was the same one I saw before. The damn flapping rock was huge! No clue how it could stay airborne considering how heavy it was. Now that I think about it, it kinda looked like that guy Visage, but four times as big, and not all ghosty at the bottom. Damn merchant never warned me about flying sculptures."
"So anyways," he paused, taking a long sip from his ale, frustrating his audience to no end, "the freakin' rock was making passes around the room, even comin' in and takin' swipes at me a few times, so, I decided to clip its wings, know what I mean? Next time it came by for a pass, I got my net out and bam!" He exclaimed, bouncing up in his chair. "Caught!"
"So wha' 'append to it?" Slark asked, excited to hear the conclusion to one of the many of Meepo's tales. Slark was almost certain he was lying. Almost. There was sometimes truth to his buddies tales.
"Oh! Yeah. The rest o' me came in and smacked it around a bit wit' our diggers. Sadly though, damn thing used the gem to break its fall when I got with my net."
"Such a shame." Rubick moaned, resting his head in his hand.
"Damn right it was," Meepo exclaimed loudly, "thing would've been worth a fortune! Could've bought an island with it."
For just a second, silence penetrated their group, though not one that was unwelcome. And as usually, Magnix was the one to break it.
"Let's all have another round! Whether you're done with this one or not." He grinned slyly, eyes trained on the magus who had been having trouble taking the latest pint down.
"Chug! Chug! Chug!" Rigwarl began cheering, almost instantly gaining the following of all but Rubick himself. Their chanting got louder and louder, their own empty tankards being slamming off the wooden counter on every beat, until final the magus caved, rolling up his mask to clear his mouth and downing the drink.
"Good goin' Ru'!" Slark called out, grasping the one of the new tankards Magnix had placed out.
Out of the blue, with a fresh beer in hand, Rubick thrust his arm in the air, contents of the cup swishing out slightly. "To new friends!" He exclaimed, beaming greatly under his mask as the five others did the same.
"To new friends!"