The Bartender Skirmish – The Adventurer God’s Game

Vazio was a small town in the middle of nowhere where pretty much nothing happened. With a population of only a few thousand, everyone lived rather ordinary lives and had ordinary jobs. There were only two things that could be considered out of the ordinary: the first was the founding of the town, and the second being that golem appearance two seasons ago.

Nobody expected a sudden assault.

The adventurers dug themselves out of the initial volley of spells, most of them surprisingly uninjured. Used to immediate danger, they quickly established a chain of command and split up their tasks accordingly. E and F-ranked adventurers were responsible for rescuing and evacuating civilians while D-ranks and higher headed towards the source. The receptionists coordinated between them all as if it were a normal part of their jobs.

Leading the charge was Brennan, the bartender of the guild. While that might seem strange, he was formerly an A-rank adventurer – the only one in the town. Compared to the surrounding D and C-ranks, an A-rank could easily protect a town like Vazio with a bit of effort, well, assuming the intruders were just your run of the mill C-ranks.

What greeted them was something they would never expect.

A hundred beastmen stood outside the gates, poised for battle. Beastmen weren’t any different from normal people. It was simply a derogatory term for those that had mutations from their ancestry: cat ears, a tail, flowers growing out of hair. But, up until five years ago, they were persecuted for those differences. As such, to protect themselves, they needed to have some level of strength. All combatants on the field were either A or B-ranks. There was even one S-rank amongst the pack. What’s more, they were from Mutan, the unofficial country of beastmen, providing a standardized level of strength.

However, that was surprising, at least to the Vazio adventurers. Why, out of all countries, was Mutan the one launching an attack. They spent most of the last few centuries maintaining a diplomatic stance, trying to show that beastmen were people too. Aside from five years ago, no other incident came to mind. And yet, they were warring with some nowhere town? How did that make sense?

Then, Brennan spotted it. Out in the corner of his eye was the familiar gleam of adamantite reflecting the morning rays. With a sword loosely held in hand, the Adventurer God sauntered out in front with a hysterical smile – a stark contrast from the resigned beastmen.

So, they were forced into it, he thought. Any god had the power to easily wipe out a country. Mutan might be stronger than most, but they would still be severely crippled. There was no hope for negotiation; they were simply pawns in her game.

Was the Adventurer God seriously trying to murder Melora? Even if they gave her up, would the town be spared? It was unlikely at best. Only a god could stop another god, but what were the chances of another around? That was even more improbable. There was only one option: to play the game until the citizens escaped.

And so, with an echoing cry, the two sides, save for one god, reluctantly began their clash, fighting for a trivial whim from an egocentric god.