Everything was gone. Everything Mollymauk had come to love, that he had made into his identity, had been burned to the ground or killed by the Devil Toad’s venom. That included Gustav…who Mollymauk had killed with his own hands. To be honest, he wasn’t sure how it happened. He blacked out, and then Gustav was dead at his feet. It hurt, even he couldn’t deny that. Yet, as he sat here in a jail cell, these other people would not shut up, and he could feel the anger rising in him.

The monk, Beauregard, had just grabbed the goblin woman, Nott, telling her to calm down. To which Nott replied by biting Beau’s hand.

“You little!-” Beau began, a fist already ready to punch.

“It was an accident,” Caleb, who seemed to be Nott’s friend, quickly stepped in.

“Oh, an accident?” Beau asked mockingly. “Like you two swiping my horse, and my pearl? Yeah, you dumb thieves, you belong in here.”

After saying her piece, she went and started shouting something that Mollymauk could care less about right now to the guards, and Nott started making more shit for Caleb to clear up. Jester, a fellow tielfing, was drawing something on the wall with chalk, and was talking to some imaginary friend called the “Traveler”.

“Traveler, this place is unbelievable. Rusty bars, the persistent smell of urine, ruffians…it’s the coolest!” she gushed, as if this wasn’t a fucking jail cell there were in for the accused murders of his entire circus family.

“Who is she talking to?” Caleb asked.

Fjord, Jester’s travel companion sighed. “Her god,” he said reluctantly.

Jester then went into another spiral, which led to more insults from Nott and Beau, and more chaos and-

Mollymauk finally had enough and kicked the piss bucket side. “Would you all politely go FUCK YOURSELVES?” he shouted, the Irish edge in his voice coming out thicker as his frustration rose. “This may be a joke to you people, but I lost everything tonight!”

He pointed at Beau. “You swore wouldn’t make trouble, and now my carnival, my friends, and the only ones who ever gave a fuck about me are gone. And that’s your fault!”

He looked at Nott and Caleb. “And yers and yers!”

Then to Jester and Fjord. “And yers!”

“So sure,” he continued. “Laugh over your imaginary friend, and your liquor, and your insults. Just keep it the fuck down, please,” he sighed the last part as he went and leaned his arm against the jail cell bars.