As he slipped back into conciousness he felt the slick, wet of his head. Tasting metal in his mouth he began to stir, turning over onto his side to prepare for the coming hardship of finding solid footing on the cold, bloody ground. ‘Bastards’, ‘Nothing but lousy good for nothing cunts’ he cursed quietly, staggering up onto his feet. Bleary eyed and dazed he took a moment to adjust to his surroundings: The walls were dark – much like everything else in the alley – and the only source of light seemed to be protuding from a worn out, candle-lit lantern hanging idly from someone’s balcony. Sighing, Malaky begin to dazily walk down the narrow path, using the tight walling for support he emerged out into the glaze of the firepits lighting the main causeway.
‘Oi, Schottlander!’ A deep voice drenched in all the tells of a rough rhinelandic accent, called from outside a small inn to his left. ‘ Where the fuck did you go too? And what the hell happened to your fucking face, looks a lot worse than usual, and that’s fuckin’ hard am I right?’
‘Oh nothing, just a couple of fuckin’ Gearmáinis like yerself decided to have a do at me and leave me for dead, no big deal ken?’
The air grew silent as the man digested what had just be said.
Angrily, Malaky looked intently at the man, sizing him up. The Deuscthlander returned the gaze and the air grew much more noticably tense. Onlookers began to stop and stare as the two approached each other, the wet ground crunching loudly beneath their feet.
‘Haha ya cunt! Wit do you think ye were dain tellin’ me to call the Karl a fuckin’ kiddy fiddler in yer ain tongue? Ye ken I dinnae speak that shite well!’
The Deustchlander, Josef laughed at what seemed to the rather puzzeled onlookers, to be nothing short of further insult to the Bavarian kingdom and it’s people – at least more so than the foreigner seemed to have already inflicted – Yet, their utter amazement was furthered as both drunken men embraced happily, before making their way back into the inn, with the Deustchlander laughing hysterically at the wounds on Malaky’s face and the tears to his clothing he had acquired.
As they disappeared through the arched doorway, a slight figure emerged from the alley of which Malaky had awoken, in one hand, a small candle-lit lantern and in the other a musket bearing the arms of Hapsburg on it’s sides. The figure watched the continued exchange blank faced & stony eyed before into the inn with a glint of evil in his dark eyes.