Zyxcsal: A New Era

Dwarf

Zyxcsal, the continent of humans.
Although the name sounds a bit exotic, the kingdom within these lands are not as peaceful as one would expect. Though the tales of this land, is ever so interesting as it's disenchanted. A tale of a man and his dwarven companion, taking odd jobs yet not so modest. A bar brawl approaches...

Bars, inns, ancient motels if you're too modern, are always a point of interest for travellers and peddlers alike. Not many inns have women in display for their customers to enjoy, but the brawls and conversations encountered within them always leaves a mark on a stayers mind.

The moon slowly rises in the distance, indistinct chatter and incoherent noises fill the inn. A dwarf, sitting in the south-east corner of the place, sips in a keg of booze quietly as he listens to the group of bandits in front of his table. The bandits voices, though not very loud, can still be heard. A bandit wearing a maroon leather jerkin uttered in a deep drunken voice,

"Damned cunts, think of themselves too strong for their own good? Wait till I get my hands on em' and put my fist up their tight arses.",

A bandit with a red armband responded,

" Can't wait to fucking kill em', ya know why? Cause they're abominations, they ain't from these lands yet the king let them inside, took them in with a warm smile in his wrinkled face.",

Another one with an armband spoke with a thick Boquievann accent, he said,

" Cursed dwarves, comin' in these peaceful lands with their curly beards, thinkin' highly of themselves just because they're a fraction stronger than regular mercenaries?"

The dwarf smirked, drank another sip from his keg and smashed it in his table. All eyes were on him, he stands up, though he was only a feet taller than the table he sat on, approached the table in front of him and spits on the drink of the bandit wearing the maroon leather jerkin and says,

"Watch yer fuckin' mouth you fuckin' negro.",

He then throws a bag of coin in the innkeepers direction. The dwarf walks away, the eyes of the people inside still pinned on him as he approaches the exit. The bandit with the jerkin, as he stands up, shouts,

"YA'LL HEAR THAT? HUH? THIS FUCKIN' PIECE OF SHIT DWARVEN CUNT, IS A FUCKING RACIST COCKSUCKER! What the fuck was the king even thinking when he let these assholes inside the kingdom wall?"

One of the bandits got up and grabbed the lousy bandits arm and whispers to him,

"What the fuck is wrong with yer' head huh? Keep it down bout' the king or we're goin' to hang, ya fucking loonie."

The Bandit with the jerkin repels the other bandits hands off his arms and said,

"What, are you a fucking turd? Everyone inside this shitty place knows how stupid that decision is."

The Dwarf paused his movements, cracked his knuckles, and slowly approached the bandits table. As he approaches, he asks the bandits,

"So, what does yer' group have against my people eh? Ya think I dont have pride for my own race?"

He reaches the bandit with the jerkin and stares him in the eye. The bandit uttered three words,

"You're not human"

Hearing those words, the place went silent, tension rises in the air making it heavy. The dwarf, clenched his right fist, grabs the keg of one of the bandits hands, drinks it straight and throws it back to the jerkin-bandits face and knocks him down. Teeth flew straight away from the mans face, the four other bandits got up, the one with a thick Boquievann accent unsheathed his dagger and shouts,