The desert stormed and roared as a man, dressed in pure black clothing, crossed the dune. The man saw the city of Elistruud. Elistruud is famous for its black market and the "to die for" wine. For it to be about thousands of miles from other civilizations and it being in the desert is pretty impressive. Most of the buildings are made out of sandstone and the doors are made of maple and were imported from Trimak. The city was busy, people running around pretending to be the heroes of old, market stand owners trying to make some money and of course the winery, in which the line up to go and get yourself some wine went around the entire market.
Off in the distance the man spotted a glint of light, small enough that only the most perceptive people can see. He turned around to check to see if he had been followed. Most people of his kind were hunted for what they have done to the kingdoms of old. He is Half human and Cyclops. It's indeed a weird mix but his parents loved each other for different reasons than most would think.
The man reached the gate to the city. The wall loomed over him as he walked into the city. People immediately rushed around him, offering everything from hookers and blow to maps of the city. He dropped a few coins into a map sellers hand and snatched a map from him. The Half-clops unfolded the map and began reading the directions to the nearest inn. The nearest inn is called Flagon Dagan. Apparently it boats the hardest ale ever to drink and the second best wine in the city. People that were around the man who is trying to get to the inn kept on showing items in front of his face until he had enough. Words poured from the man's mouth, the sounds they made were unnatural and filled to the brim with fear. The crowd around him bolted back to their stalls. The man sighed with relief as he strode towards the inn.
The inn looked nice from the outside. The sign is large with bright lettering to make it stand out amongst the rest. He opened the door to the inn. Inside were chairs made of oak and cushioning that made most queens and kings feel comfortable, the tables are filled to the brim. People were everywhere in this inn. As he made his way to the till, a woman stood up from her chair behind him and moved closer to him.
He reached the till, looking for the menu when he saw what they had for drinks. There were only three kinds of drinks, the first one is called the Blacksmithery, an ale from the dwarven kingdom of Gahdren, apparently only dwarves can drink it without getting drunk immediately. Then they have a wine known as Wood, from the people of Trimak, sadly it tastes like wood. Lastly we have Ye Old Ale. It's old ale that has been sitting for twenty or so years. A woman sat down beside him and ordered two Blacksmitheries.
"Never seen you before." She said towards him. The half-clops turned and looked at her. The woman was a dwarf, about 4'2" with a scarred up face. Her voice is strong and sturdy, as if she has done this quite a few times, if not, she's doing a good enough job to hide her insecurity.
"Tis my first time here in Elistruud, it's a well-known city and I thought I might as well visit here." He said. The dwarven girl looked up at him as their drinks arrive. She passes one to him.
"Drink it. You should be able to withstand it." She said casually. He grabbed the drink and let it all pour down his mouth. It turns out that the Blacksmithery is not very strong at all, despite what the sign said. The drink tasted of Hugarberries and Tilak. Tilak is a type of mint that is generally outlawed, unless it's in drinks.
"You're right. The label is bullshit and it should be changed." He said. The bartender looked at him.
"Probably because yer a half-clops. Yer kind isn' very common 'ere, unless it involves the blackmerket." The bartender replied. The half-clops stood up, looking directly into the bartenders eyes. He then turned around and walked out the door into the sunlight. A hand came out of nowhere and pulled him back into the inn.
"You are not going anywhere laddie, when we find one of yer kind, we throw 'em into the pit." The bartender told him. "The pit of hell, I mean" The half-clops panicked, words started coming from his mouth. An explosion goes off behind the bartender. The middle section of the bar was gone, the explosion threw the wood into people's bodies. The bartenders face waned and began to be filled with horror when he realized who did it. Turning his head, the half-clop's eyes were filled with fire.
A scream came from the half-clop's mouth, bursting the bartender's eardrums. The man screamed aloud from the pain. He hasn't stopped screaming, the bartender thought to himself. It was like the man had been possessed by a demon of sorts. His thoughts were cut off. The man's skin began to tear away from his face, revealing the bone, muscle and tissue of his face. Blood poured where the bartenders face used be.
The half-clops let go of the body. He moved towards the bar, looking for the dwarven girl. Pain shot up his leg, a small dagger stood out from his leg. The half-clops turned around, the dwarven girl was standing in front of the doorway holding multiple knives.
"Why are you looking at me with such hate monster?" she jested, giving a small laugh. "It's about time I kill you!" She threw the knives at him. One flew past his cheek, barely drawing any blood, another landed firmly into his shoulder. Two went into the wood behind him and a few landed just short from hitting his feet. The half-clops snickered.
"What, you haven a laugh?" she joked.
"Aye, if ye know what's good for ya." The half-clops replied "Laughing helps relieve pain, but it doesn't relieve any pain that comes from burning alive or getting their head smashed to bits." The half-clops made a very fast jolt in his arm, as if he were loading a bolt action rifle. A hammer appeared behind the dwarf and with one swift motion, her head became a pile of mush. The half-clops walked past her corpse and left the inn to find a new one.