The Swearing Priest
Once more the door to the tavern swung open with a bang to reveal a dwarven warrior clad in gleaming arms and armor. Hooking thumbs in his belt the heavy-footed patron smartly let his feet do the walking. "Barkeep, a brandy! An don't water it down with dat beardless pointy-eared elf wine!"
Usually Bock wasn't in such a good mood, but he had arrived for the annual Festival-Of-Brawlers. A long standing tradition in the ranks of Verlune, a god whose calloused hand could be felt everywhere. Even though the clergy never said so, Bock knew in his heart that Verlune fired the spirits of all other deities for true and for sure, and he always chortled with glee at those uncontested words of truth.
"Sayyy, dat's a good looking blade!" he complimented the stranger next to him. "Had a chance ta use it against any stinking sewer-spawned orcs!" But to Bock's great dismay what he thought was a muscular human back turned to reveal a Half-Orcish face!
"Not yet..." the villain started as he cruelly took advantage of the dwarf's astonishment and embedded a dagger under Bock's raised arm deep into his chest. "...but thanks for the chance!" The cleric of Verlune didn't see much next as darkness descended in the wake of heavy hobnailed boot to the face.
He was lucky that day, lucky the assault took place in busy bar that erupted into life-saving pandemonium before the assassin could strike a final blow. It was all the Half-Orc could do to get away from the crushing mob and with him the motive for such a daring daylight attack. In fact Bock was never told the reason his clergy had sent him to Asgra, they had seen something in a holy-water basin during a high ritual and knew the dwarf was ordained to play a role in a crucial battle against festering maleficence. They told him little for fear of perturbing his time line, all Bock knew was that he was to enter the Festival-Of-Brawlers and further precepts would follow.
Whether the assassin succeeded in disrupting Bock's destiny the clergy couldn't say, death wasn't necessary to affect change. Time would tell and Bock as determined to make a difference.