Untitled Trudge & Killdor Project

Chapter 1: Big Beastli Brawl

Not every day a story starts. Not every day in the town of Beastli is there not a bar fight at Aanuld's Pub. A tall, 7'3" Beastman enters the pub soaking in the glory as he is accompanied by an excited crowd of 10 or so. Some Beastman, others Scalekin, no human in sight. The glory soaked Beastman is a Husky, whose fur prominently puffs off as an afro off his head. His black and white fur is in a patterned almost skull like. He wears slick black pants and gloves, and a pair of shaded bifocals over his eyes. He has a belt, but the belt is draped over his shoulder, gold plating on the front saying "BPW World Champ: Trudge." He's shirtless, bulging with muscle. His followers chanting "Trudge" over and over as he approaches. He walks over to the bar. There a hooded customer hunched over the right of the barkeep and the barkeep himself doesn't look so excited to see all the people enter in the pub either.

"Aanuld, right?" The red Scalekin barkeep rolled his eyes and nodded. "Hey Aanuld, a round of drinks for everyone here. Tell them it's on The Trudge!" He raised his fist and the audience following him bursted into cheers. He had accidently bumped the hooded customer causing them to spill their drink. "Oh, sorry there, pal, got caught up in the moment. Here, let me make it up for ya. An extra drink for you and..." He pulls out a writing utensil and a piece of parchment from his pants. "An autograph from yours truly." He handed the hooded figure the parchment which had a poorly drawn figure of him and a poorly written signature saying "The Trudge" on it.

The customer pulled out a handkerchief from their pocket and began cleaning the spill and then wiping it off on something before lunging at Trudge with it. A dagger, caught by the hand of Trudge, blood slowly trickling down. The hood came off revealing the head of a Scalekin. His head was of a dark green with traces of an even darker red strewn about their face. Had there been no light, he'd be hard to see if not invisible. Two small horns at the back corner of his head angled away at 50 degrees. "Killdor needed that. Killdor needed that poison for the one that slew Killdor's clan." The Scalekin spoke.

"Poison, eh?" Trudge took off his bifocals and pulled out a small vial from his pants, uncorked it in his one free hand, and started chugging it. "Ya see Killdor," he said, crowd roaring in excitement. "I've met my fair share of Scalekin who have bitten me with their poisonous fangs, fought against those with poisonous skin, and have been blindsided by weapons. I'm still here. If you want a fight, pal, I'll let you know that I'm prepared." He clinched his hand on the blade harder and harder until the blade shattered. "So, do you want to continue?"

The Scalekin known as Killdor stood up, dwarfed by Trudge by a good foot and a half. His body slender compared to the muscular figure of Trudge. Underneath his cloak are an assortment of weapons shown to Trudge. "Killdor considers continuing." He said before quickly slashing past Trudge with another blade from his other hand. Blood spattered over the tavern.

"Hey! Careful there! I'm trying to run a successful business here!"

"Don't worry Aanuld." Trudge scoffed. "Any damages done to your fine establishment; I'll happily cover." Without moving from his spot, Trudge reached over and grabbed the head of Killdor with one hand and lifting him up. "Even if it bleeds me dry."

With a loud crash, Killdor is tossed to the other side of the pub, going head first through one of the tables. The audience backed away but still cheered as though it was a fight for their entertainment. Killdor stand up slowly, blood trickling down his head. Trudge cracks his knuckles and snarls, showing of all the sharp teeth he had. Killdor reacted by tossing the blade. Trudge was ready to catch, but what he wasn't ready for was Killdor moving as fast as the knife, approaching him and elbowing Trudge in the gut the moment he would have caught the knife. Trudge whimpered as his hand was slightly impaled. Killdor took the opportunity to remove the blade from the hand and slash upward, aiming for the neck. Trudge, however, saw it coming, and leaned back as though he took the blow. With Killdor up in the air, Trudge wrapped his arms around him with a tight squeeze causing him to drop the blade and tossed him again, hitting even more tables and an occupied one as well.