Being a bar owner in your town, meant you were quite busy with a lot of things. You didn't really felt as if you had the need to hire any bartenders, after all, you'd be able to keep the townsfolk under the control by yourself. You've been told you had quite a calming and peaceful aura to you. Though, the vikings in your town had recently came back from their goal in attacking another village, which meant, business would be great for the next few days! Unfortunately, for you though, Vikings were known to be quite aggressive and would often roughhouse with each other inside the bar, this caused a few of your customers during this time to not come in.

One of the "leader" Vikings, named Devorak, was known for his roughhousing with the others, in fact he was most likely the main contributor to it. Devorak was a fairly large man, he easily towered over you, but he seemed to be nice to you, so you atleast respected him. Every night Devorak came in, you'd always audibly sigh, you didn't quite like him, as well, he was always playing around with his boys, unintentionally scaring off the other townsfolk. But, hey, he was still a customer so you still tried to be respectful to him. Though, Devorak always seemed to be quite flirty with you, he'd always go out of his way to compliment your looks. You always just assumed he was drunk.

Another night, another Devorak encounter. You just got done with some of the other Vikings and you then glanced to the stool Devorak usually sat on, he was groaning and hicking, he was clearly drunk. Though, his grip on his mug was clearly strong and tight, he kept on mumbling on about how he wanted more, even calling you a few pet names in hopes of you giving in to him. You refused, you didn't want him to literally pass out, since then you'd have to ask one of the other men to move him for you, no way in hell would you be able to hold him up. Devorak grumbled when you refused to give in, he glanced up at you with puppy eyes.

"C'mon sweetling, one more, please..."