Jarvan paused at the threshold to the sleepy mining town of Kalamanda. It was strange returning after nearly a full year, but almost nothing in the little hamlet had changed. Jarvan paused, watching as the miners roamed to and fro among the outcroppings, pulling stone and crystal from the rock walls. Prospectors roamed the rocky outcroppings and panned in the mineral laden pools that formed when water rushed down the jagged cliff sides bringing sediment down with them. Hundreds of miners had come to Kalamanda looking to strike it rich, but very few actually did.
"They've increased in numbers…" Jarvan murmured to himself as he watched the miners.
"Who?" Shyvana asked, looking over at the prince.
"The miners." He pointed to a distant stone rise where miners pushed a cart along a track from a tunnel at the base of the rise. "They've drastically increased the equipment here, too."
"Does that mean something?" Shyvana asked, frowning slightly at the sights and sounds of pick on stone and the rattle of tracks and tools.
"I don't know." Jarvan said, shrugging. "Maybe someone finally struck something valuable?" Shyvana shook her head, looking back, hesitantly as they approached the gateway into the village. There was a single, bored looking guardsman who was picking his nose. Shyvana started to slow, but Jarvan grabbed her hand and tugged her along. ""No reason to be afraid. Come on." He offered her a reassuring smile, the young woman blushing as she looked down at his hand and nodded nervously.
Jarvan planted one foot under the arch that signaled the out edge of the village and glanced at the guardsman who was posted there. The small village only had a cursory town watch, and the lone guardsman eyed Jarvan surreptitiously. Jarvan followed his gaze along his lance and then he met eyes with the guardsman for a few brief moments. He nodded at Jarvan and with a raised a hand lazily to his head, he flicked the uniform cap up by the bill, giving Jarvan a last cursory glance. His eyes turned to Shyvana and settled on the pendant on her collar.
The guardsman glanced back to the prince, frowning slightly. "Ah, you two. You're not with the Demacian army are you?"
"What?" Jarvan muttered, raising an eyebrow.
"I figured with that there pendant, you were a part of the military contingent…" He shook his head and waved a hand in front of his face. "With all the other forces pouring in, I figured you guys were the first part of the Demacian forces to arrive. We've already had Noxians and Zaunites arrive, even a few of them science types from Piltover. I was think that you were-…"
"We're just travelers passing through." Jarvan said, shaking his head, cutting the man off. He dropped Shyvana's hand and crossed his arms across his chest. "We're on our way to Demacia. Something wrong with that?"
"Ah, I see now." The guardsman said, letting the glazed looked settle over his face again. "Very well. Your compatriot told me to direct you towards the inn." The guardsman finally said, his gaze turning toward Shyvana again. Jarvan noted that his gaze stuck to certain aspects of her a bit more that he cared for, but the prince refrained from growling, simply clearing his throat. She paused, Jarvan still holding onto her hand. The guard had opened his mouth to say something further, but when he met eyes with Shyvana, his words failed him. Her brilliant Magenta eyes tended to have that effect, even on Jarvan.
"Something to say?" Shyvana asked, gesturing to him with her chin. She looked down her nose at him, her manor cool and almost hostile. The guardsman shook his head and gestured towards the town.
"Phalon's is the place you'll be looking for." He mumbled. "Big place, you can't miss it." Jarvan nodded his thanks and ushered Shyvana into the village.
"What was that about?" She finally asked when they were out of earshot of the guard.
"I'm not sure." Jarvan said with a frown. Whatever it is, I don't like it.
Shyvana fell into stride with him, her hand brushing against his a few times as they walked. The village was quiet, smoke rising from chimneys and lanterns just beginning to be lit in the windows of many of the houses as the sun began to set, casting long shadows through the town's cobblestone streets. There were colorful timber houses with shingle and thatched roofs, and closed up vender's stalls littering the market as they passed through. Roughhewn stone building lined the main thoroughfare, some businesses, and some private residencies. As Jarvan and Shyvana entered the town square, Jarvan noticed the odd glances and stares he was receiving. The hair on the back of his neck was standing on end.
The Town Square had a large statue in the middle of the open area, a gorgeous marble goddess draped in a fine dress. Water flowed from an urn she held aloft over her head, spilling down her form into a pool at her feet. Directly across the circular marketplace that made up the town center, a large building with a steep roof and many chimneys rose up from the paving cobbles. That was undoubtedly the inn, the wear and tear on its roughhewn stone base easily identified it as one of the oldest structures in the square. A small sign was hung above the door, and the name 'Phalon's Inn' was barely legible in faded red lettering.
"The people are staring." Shyvana said quietly, only barely leaning in towards Jarvan as she did. They were winding their way through closed stalls in the market place, where peddlers and farmers sold their produce and wares during the day. Other traveler and resident passing through the market place all slowed to a stop as Jarvan and Shyvana passed by, giving them a wide berth. Jarvan nodded silently to the few that caught his gaze and quickly beckoned Shyvana ahead of him, following in her wake towards the inn.
Shyvana pushed the door open and stepped through the portico and down a few steps into a noisy tavern. Tables and drunkards lined the room from wall to wall, a bar and kitchen on one side of the room with stairs and a hallway leading off into the rest of the building. A massive fireplace dominated the opposite wall, taking up the entire side of the room. The fire was small tonight, but Jarvan suspected the mighty hearth could handle great, roaring flames that would heat the entire room in the colder months. The dark Tavern had fallen silent for a few moments, but seeing as the two new occupants were less than lethal, the rest of the tavern's patrons returned to their drinks albeit with hushed tones at the sight of Jarvan's lance.
Jarvan scanned the room and saw Isaacs at a table off to one side. Pointing Shyvana in the right direction, Jarvan set off through the packed Tavern, doing his best not to strike or disturb the other patrons. Isaacs waved them over and kicked a pair of seats out across from him.
"Not the friendliest lot, eh?" Isaacs asked after a long pull from his ale. Jarvan raised his hand towards the bartender who nodded and sent one of the barmaids over to serve them. Jarvan noted that she definitely lacked in both looks and charm compared to Shyvana.
"No, they don't appear to be." Jarvan remarked, settling into his seat and eyeing the crowd. He could feel quite a few gazes being drawn towards him and he wasn't exactly appreciating all the sudden attention. He suspected it came from his lance. Most of the Noxians carried axes and Demacian preferred lances as their weapons of choice, so if the guard was to be believed, they could have seen him as the precursor to a Demacian incursion. Jarvan thoughts were interrupted as a barmaid approached, rapping a knuckled on her tray as she lay it over her chest and stomach, frowning slightly.
"Like I told your friend, if you're looking for work or trouble, we don't have any and we don't want any more here and Kalamanda." She wore an annoyed expression, looking at Jarvan, expecting an answer.
"We only want food, drink and rooms for the night…" Jarvan said, grimacing at the hostile attitude.
"Oh!" She squeaked, blushing slightly. "Pardon me! What can I get for you?" The young girl asked. She looked to be about 15 or so, probably the owner's daughter. She was bespeckled with freckles and had wavy brown hair that fell to her shoulders. She wore a long black skirt and a bright blue blouse with the sleeves rolled up to her elbows. She held her hair from her eyes with a checkered handkerchief.
"Two of those." Jarvan said, gesturing to what Isaacs was taking a pull from. The barmaid nodded and headed to fetch their drink. Jarvan sighed, leaning his lance against the wall between him and the table, his pack resting on the floor underneath the table. Shyvana dropped her own pack and fell into the seat beside Jarvan. "Somethings got this town on edge. You think it was Kampf?"
"If these people were fearing a dragon, they wouldn't have had an issue when we arrived." Isaacs muttered, shrugging. "They just don't like outsiders, period."
"Makes some sense I suppose." Jarvan grunted. "The guard thought I was a part of some sort of Demacian Army unit."
"And you're not?" Isaacs remarked with a wry grin as he sat back and exhaled as he downed the last of his ale. "You look like the spitting image of a fearsome Demacian warrior…"
"And you look like a rundown old man." Jarvan growled back, looking down at himself. His cloak was dirty and filled with dust, the prince's ever movement sending tendrils of dust out from his person.
"I'm just tired." Isaacs grunted, shrugging. "Give me a rest, already."
"My feet are killing me." Shyvana said, sighing as she let her chin fall to her arms, crossed on the table. "We've been walking for days." She groaned, closing her eyes.
"See?" Isaacs said, gesturing to the dragoness with a cheeky grin. "Though, you can't be tired after just that... we're only just getting started." Shyvana opened one eye and looked up at him with a goofy grin. "Shoot, I knew you were just being overly dramatic." Jarvan smiled at the banter.
"We may want to get some horses though." Jarvan said, perching his chin on his palm. "Who knows how far north Kampf went." He fingered a lock of his own hair, tapping it lightly, a small shower of dust descending down to the table. He sighed and wiped it away onto the floor. "And if he heads too far into Noxus, it will get difficult to find him. Even natives get lost in the endless forests of pine and stone."
"I doubt that he'll go too far north." Shyvana said frowning. "Dragons prefer rocky terrain and mountains." She paused, sitting back, rocking the chair back on two legs. "I don't know exactly how far north it would be to similar terrain, but I don't expect Kampf would be willing or capable to go far in his current condition. Judging from the blood and drag marks we saw the first day, you did a fair amount of damage to him. He'll likely hole up, first chance he gets to lick his wounds." She said, tapping Jarvan on his shoulder pauldron. Jarvan smiled as server set their drinks on the table. He picked up the drink and swigged part of the beverage straight down, leaving some of the froth on his lip. Shyvana giggled at him as she took a pull off her own ale. Jarvan shook his head, rolling his eyes as she dropped her mug, froth crowning the tip of her nose.
"If he does hole up, how long do you think it would take for him to heal sufficiently to fight or fly at full strength?" Jarvan asked quietly.
"A few weeks maybe?" Shyvana shook her head, frowning. "I'm sorry, I don't know how bad he was wounded, and I heal much quicker than he would, so I can barely guess based off myself."
"Just how much quicker?" Isaacs asked, raising an eyebrow. "Speaking of, how are those wounds on your hip?"
"They're fine." Shyvana said, running a hand over her hip. "Almost fully healed."
"Okay, so pretty damn quick." Isaacs said with a low whistle. He downed the last of his ale and then stood, stretching his back. "But that certainly narrows down the search area. We'll get started bright and early tomorrow morning. For now, I'm going to head off and talk to Forsythe about earlier, I still feel pretty bad about hitting him. Oh, and here's your room key. Make sure and get some sleep tonight." He tossed the key to Shyvana and waved over his shoulder as he dropped a small copper piece on the bar. He disappeared into the hallways leading away from the tavern.
"Wait did he say 'room key'?" Jarvan blanched for a moment before shaking his head and scowling. He knocked back another pull on his ale. Shyvana raised an eyebrow, looking over at him. "I don't plan on getting that drunk." He hid his blushed cheeks by knocking back more of his ale.
"I-…" Shyvana blinked and froze, her eyes narrowing. "Heads up." Jarvan raised his gaze as the door burst open and heavy set men barged into the already crowded pub. Jarvan went rigid as he recognized their black and red uniforms.
"Noxians." He spoke quietly, turning back to the table, raising his hand and signaling the barkeep for another drink and then tossing off the rest of his ale. "I'm so not in the mood for this." He sighed, leaning heavily on his hand.
"Break out all the drinks!" the Noxian Sergeant shouted, a smug grin plastered across his already half drunken face. "Break out all the food!"
"BREAK OUT ALL THE WOMEN!" The group of men that had poured in behind him bellowed as a whole as they piled into the room and slammed the door behind them. Jarvan didn't recognize their uniforms compared to the standard Noxian colors, their blood red and jet black uniforms different from the normal dark grey, crimson and gold.
"Ugh, these trash…" Jarvan murmured, turning back around to his mug, shaking his head.
"Keep your voice down." A cloaked figure hissed, a frown on her face as she slid into the seat across from Shyvana, her hood hiding her face. Jarvan looked at her with half-closed eyes and frowned at the young lady. "You really don't want to piss them off."
Jarvan vaguely remembered reading reports about the Noxian Military dogs that wandered the outer border lands of Noxus trying to get by. Theses Noxian legionaries had gained a reputation as criminals, extorting whatever they wanted out of the residents of wherever they found themselves. People had pushed for trials against them, but every time a case was opened, be it rape, murder, pillaging or thievery, those pushing for the case tended to disappear. Everyone in Noxus, even those in Demacia, knew what was happening, but no one was willing to do anything about it. Jarvan had briefly lobbied for a movement to protect the Demacian people, but at the risk of war, all that could be done was running them out of whatever Demacian village they were terrorizing and pushing them back into Noxian territory. Due to ceasefire terms, Demacia couldn't leave garrisons in any of the neutral border towns, so villages like Kalamanda were left to fend for themselves.
"Bartender, drinks for everyone." The Noxian Officer shouted, kicking a young busser over. The young man picked himself up and turned away, not willing to risk his life. He quickly left, getting clear of the trouble and hiding in the kitchen before it could get any worse. "Coward!" The officer yelled to jeers from his men as others scattered before them.
"I'm not liking the look of this." The cloaked woman said, frowning as she leaned on the table. The officer had begun to make his rounds, roving about the tables of the tavern. Jarvan watched the young woman draw a crossbow from her hip and checking that the magazine was full. Jarvan shook his head discreetly, gesturing at the weapon.
"No weapons." He said quietly.
"What?" The cloaked figure said, pouting. "You're Demacian, aren't you?" She looked at Jarvan from under her hood. Something dangerous flashed in her golden eyes. Jarvan rolled his eyes and creased his brow in a lazy frown.
"And you?" Shyvana said, frowning as the hooded figure's gaze lay upon Jarvan for a bit too long for her comfort.
"We Demacians are no easy prey." She said frowning. Jarvan eyed the oddly shaped gauntlet on her right arm. She put a hand to her chest. "Born and raised." Jarvan eyed her up, judging her appearance. She had hardened leather armor, going for the light weight rather than the protection offered by steel or other materials. Her crossbow hinted at her desire to stay out direct combat and it told him she wouldn't be too much help in the brawl he could feel brewing in the bar. He pegged her as a ranger or wildsman, but he couldn't be sure.
"Where are the women!?" the Noxian Officer shouted. "I demand women!" He bellowed, looking around the room. He was a hulking man, easily seven feet tall, pure muscle and nothing but brawn. What he seemed to lack in brain power, he made up for in pure physical strength.
"You know this clown?" Jarvan asked the hooded Demacian girl, tossing back another deep pull on his ale.
"The man is the leader of a troupe of Noxian Legionnaires, named Bartholomew or just 'Bart' to his close friends." She said quietly, fidgeting in her seat. "In reality he doesn't have any friends, only men who are too afraid to do anything but go along with his crap and follow his lead."
"You seem familiar with him." Shyvana said, eyeing the beefy mercenary with trepidation. "Gotten into trouble with him before?"
"We've had a few run-ins, yes." The cloaked ranger said nervously. Jarvan could see her cheeks turn a bit red in the shadows of her hood. Bart was moving in and about the crowded tavern, eyeing up the females. The barmaids had already retreated to the kitchen, seeking shelter there. Jarvan tensed as Bart's gaze fell on his table and he began moving towards them.
"Why hide, you pretty little thing." Bart said, setting his hand on Shyvana's shoulder.
"Hands off." Jarvan grunted, still leaning on his hand, his eyes closed.
"What'd you say?" Bart growled, turning his attention away from Shyvana and settling his gaze on Jarvan. The prince sighed.
"I'm not nearly drunk enough to deal with this rubbish." Jarvan growled. Shyvana sighed heavily and tossed off the rest of her ale in a single go.
"Mind if I take care of him then?" Shyvana said, a wide grin spreading on her face. Jarvan opened an eye and frowned, sighing again.
"Try not to make a mess." Jarvan grunted, lifting his mug to his mouth and taking a swig of the now warm ale.
"I'll deal with you shortly." Brat growled, eyeing Shyvana's chest with excitement. "Just need to take out the trash real quick, baby."
Jarvan snorted at the threat.
"You're a ballsy little puke, aren't you?" Bart muttered, cracking his knuckles. Jarvan raised his free hand and formed a fist, his middle finger sticking straight up in an archaic and rude gesture. There was a collective intake of breaths from all of Bart's men, and the entire tavern seemed to freeze, waiting for one of them to make the first move.
"At least I've got a pair." Jarvan said, opening his eyes and spitting the Noxian with a cold stare. The hulking man seemed taken aback at first, but slowly his surprise turned to a shivering rage.
"You're going to regret that…" Bart roared as he cocked his fist back. He swung over Shyvana's head aiming for Jarvan, but Shyvana had stepped between them already and had raised an arm, diverting his punch. His fist only crashed through the wooden table, sending drinks flying and empty tankards clattering to the ground. Bart drew his hand back, his face blank, taking a step away from Shyvana. "Wha… how did…"
Shyvana dropped down onto her hands and with a swirl of her cloak and red hair, she swept Bart's feet backwards out from under him. She pushed herself up, tucking her feet under herself. She extended her legs and struck upwards with her fist, smashing Bart's teeth as he fell, striking the legionarie under the jaw and lofting him into the air. His head snapped back and his entire body was thrown into the air, getting knocked clear off his feet. He hung in the air for what seemed like an eternity before gravity finally kicked in, dumping him onto a neighboring table. People went scampering for cover, the clatter of falling tankards, the tinkling broken glass, and the clatter overturned chairs filling the tavern.
"You just had to go and spill my drink, didn't you…" Shyvana said, licking blood from her knuckles. Her voice was almost a purr, and she blinked several times, banishing the orange, reptilian diamonds. She sighed and cracked her knuckles, shaking the kinks from her fingers. "You're not only stupid but you're slow as well."
"What the hell…" The hooded figure breathed with wide eyes. Her hood had been knocked back revealing dark hair that was flattened back against her head, held in place with a piece of cloth. Jarvan stood, his chair scraping the ground as he rose, a grin on his face. He cracked his neck and pulled his helmet off, hanging it on his lance. Jarvan turned to the young woman.
"Stick around, I'd like to ask you something after I clean up some trash." Jarvan stepped forward and swung his arm out, clotheslining a Noxian who was making a beeline for Shyvana from the side. The man was gasping for breath as he writhed on the ground, Jarvan's boot on his chest. "Watch yourself, Shyvana." Jarvan said with a grin as he settled into a fighting stance.
"Who, me?" She said, batting her eyelashes at a few of the Noxians. They looked stunned for a few moments, letting Shyvana streak in and grab them by their collars. She lifted one with one hand while the other struggled against her grasp. She tossed the first across the room, sending him crashing into a table and then drawing back to strike the other.
"Heads up!" Jarvan shouted as he ducked below a Noxian's blade-led charge. He stepped inside the mercenary's charge and grabbed his collar. The prince hauled him up and over his shoulder, spinning his body only slightly, sending him flying across the tavern. Shyvana ducked the body, dragging the mercenary she was still holding into the path of the other flying soldier and let them tumble to the floor in a knot of limbs and cloaks. She grinned at Jarvan as he ducked another charge and pummeled the man's blade hand. The mercenary hissed, dropping the blade and jumping back out of striking distance.
Jarvan pressed up against Shyvana's back as the enemies closed into a circle around them. The mercenaries came slower this time, keeping the prince and dragoness in place as Bart shook the blow off, his head spinning. He had struggled to his feet, and now he looked unsteady at best.
"Bloody hell…" He muttered, spitting blood onto the floor. Jarvan and Shyvana noted with satisfaction that there were a few teeth mixed in as well. Shyvana grinned prettily batting her eye coutishly as she whipped her hair back behind her. Jarvan chuckled, smiling. "Who are these bastards?"
"Demacians." One of his men chimed in, gesturing to the emblem that held the cloak on Shyvana's shoulders.
"Oh good." Bart mused, cracking his knuckles. "Now I can get paid to beat the shit out of you." He grinned as he waved a few of his men forward. "That makes things so much easier to justify."
Jarvan stepped forward to meet the legionaries as they came. He waved them forward and ducked down and to the left, away from Shyvana as the enemy charged at the provocation. Jarvan dodged left and then parried an incoming knife blow. He hit the man with a body shot to the gut, and then stepped in and further to the left, landing another left and right body shots. Jarvan spun, tossing his cloak into the air, spinning away as another mercenary charged. He snapped the clasp that held the cloak in place and sent the man bumbled forward, lashing out as he tried to remove the cloak. Jarvan dropped the man with an elbow to the top of his spine. The other man had righted himself and charged again, infuriated. Jarvan stepped back, letting the mercenary take an extra step further into his lunge, leaving him off balance. Jarvan grabbed his collar and hauled him forward, clenching the mercenaries arm in his armpit. Jarvan spun his body, the sound of the man's arm breaking echoing through the tavern. Jarvan spun the opposite way, bringing his arm across in a wide, openhanded strike. The blow sent the man tumbling away with a smashed jaw.
Shyvana watched as three men fanned out around her, slowly beginning to close in towards her, their weapons held between themselves and the dragoness. One charged ahead of his fellows and Shyvana grabbed the weapon and hauled him forward over her body, rolling onto her back. She tucked her knees into her chest and kicked out as she rolled, launching him across the room and crashing into the stone wall, depositing him onto his head. Shyvana rolled to her feet and quickly dodged right then left as one of the remaining two legionaries jabbed at her with his sword. She clasped her hands together on either side of the blade and had to nearly fall backwards again to keep the blade from piercing her chest. She settled back onto her feet as the soldier tugged on his blade, unable to free it from Shyvana's grasp. She grinned wickedly as blue claws tightened over the blade, bearing long fangs as the blade began to glow red hot. The steel blade began to droop in his hand as Shyvana poured immense amounts of heat through her palms. The legionnaire tried to hold onto the blade, but he screamed and dropped the superheated blade as steel began to drip through the dragoness's fingers. Shyvana pushed off as the man stumbled backwards, his gloved palms smoking as she launched into the air, striking his nose with her knee. The dragoness landed on her feet and spun, launching a high roundhouse kick that sent the third man flying. His eyes were still glued on Shyvana's demonic eyes.
Shyvana clapped her hands together, wiping the dust from them as she turned back to Jarvan. The mercenary she had initially flipped was struggling to his feet and Shyvana clocked him in the back of the head, sending him falling back to the floor. She rolled her head, cracking her neck, one hand massaging her shoulder at the same time. She yawned, showing off her viciously long fangs and caught Bart staring, offering him a cruel smile as she licked her lips. Bart took a step back, stumbling and ending up on his tail. Jarvan stepped forward, his boot falling heavily between the Noxian's legs. Bart stumbled backward, nearly rolling backwards. He scampered backwards, trying to put more distance between them. Jarvan hauled the man to his feet, hefting Bart by the collar of his jacket.
"Do you know who I am?" Jarvan asked menacingly. Bart's face was turning blue, as the princd held him aloft. Bart shook his head weakly as Jarvan, who barely came up to his nose, lifted the giant Noxian off of his feet.
"N-no…." Bart struggled to say.
"My name is Jarvan Lightshield IV." Jarvan growled, drawing him in close to his face. "And you, my dumb friend, managed to piss me off when you came on to my ward." Jarvan gently gestured to Shyvana over his right shoulder. Jarvan dumped Bart on the ground and brought his knee up into the legionnaire's gut as he stumbled. Bart collapsed onto the floor, retching as he hunched over, gasping for breath and clutching his stomach.
Jarvan sighed and turned away, grinning at Shyvana. "Well that was fun."
Jarvan heard the scuffle of boots and the ring of steel as a blade was drawn from a sheath. He saw the reflection in Shyvana's eye as Bart came up behind him with a knife drawn, aimed directly for the prince's back. Jarvan spun, kicking his lance with the tip of his boot, sending it falling into his waiting hands. The prince took two steps and spun into the arc of Bart's charge, leading with a high left kick that smashed the legionnaire's face in and stunned him. Jarvan planted his foot and followed with a quick tap to the temple with the pommel of his lance as he brought the weapon back and followed by striking Bart in the chest with the pommel in a full on strike. As Bart stumbled backwards, Jarvan shifted his right foot forward and swung his lance wide, catching Bart with the blunt side of his lance. Jarvan brought his feet together as Bart launched into a blind, rage-induced series of rapid thrusts, Jarvan merely spinning his blade and knocking the blows aside. The last of the spins struck Bart's hand, shredding his fingers and sending the bloody knife skittering across the floor away from him. Jarvan took a quick step back, launching himself into the air on the second step, spinning left. He brought the tip of his boot crashing into Bart's temple and then the lance, following Jarvan's spin, brushed along his chest. The razor sharp lance cut deeply along Bart's chest, the gash stretching from the crook of his elbow across his chest to his shoulder. Jarvan landed with a flourish, spinning his blade behind him back into his right hand, planting the lance at his side.
Bart collapsed in a pool of blood on the ground.
Silence filled the room for a few moments as people slipped their heads out from behind cover and people ducked out from behind the bar and the tables that they up ended to hide behind.
"It's over now." Jarvan announced, putting his boot up on of the legs of his overturned chair. "Somebody call the constable." He put weight on the leg and the chair jumped up to meet his hand. He spun as he set the chair right side up, dropping back into the chair with a deep breath. He tapped the table a few times as Shyvana pulled up one of the intact chairs in the dim light of the now silent tavern.
A cheer erupted from tavern around them, completely catching Jarvan and Shyvana by surprise. They were flabbergasted as a torrent of thanks and pats on the back and cheers came from all directions, assaulting them and leaving both of them speechless. Drinks and congratulations were shoved upon them in an endless river.
The next hour was a blur as Jarvan and Shyvana were both fed and poured drink after drink. Jarvan enjoyed the company, as many of the small town Demacian farmers and miners, and even some of the Noxian miners who were fed up with Bart's oppression came forward to offer thanks, food, and drink. The men seemed drawn to Shyvana's almost exotic charm and relative innocence, her face blushed from all the attention and compliments. Jarvan wasn't sure whether they had seen her dragon side surface during the fight, but many of the men and women just assumed she was a young, battle hardened fire mage. As their night came to an end, Jarvan and Shyvana were ushered up to their room, buffered on by assurances from the town constabulary that Bart and his men would be well taken care of and escorted to the town jail. The Barkeep and owner had assured him that as thanks, their drinks and room was on the house, and the damages would be taken from Bart and his men's funds.