After a night of drinking various hard liquors, and somewhere along his 32nd shot of Rum, the Changeling Rith Fiddir addresses several of his close friends at the Bottle and Jug.
"You know, guys, we have a guy called Phoenix. We supposedly have another bloke called "The Eagle." So all of our guys are naming themselves after birds, is it!?"
He turns to all those present, a wry grin on his face.
"If that's the case, I'm taking a code-name too. You all can call me..." He ponders a long moment before snickering.
"I am....The C-CK!"
He is met with a series of mocking laughter from his friends sitting along the bar.
"The C-ck shall administer hard, swift Justice!" screams one of the bar patrons. Of course, the laughter of his comrades rings out.
"You're a Back-stabbing Wanker, Rith!" shouts out one of the drunken barflies. "I guess it makes sense that the C-ck strikes from behind!" the drunkard says with an uproarious laughter.
As the group laughs and kids around a rather large, rowdy looking Troll makes his way up to the wise-cracking Rith and slams his fist down on the bar.
"So...a feckin' wise-guy, eh?" says the Troll, his deep voice echoing throughout the Bottle and Jug. "I bet you 100 stingers 'at I could whip yer arse from one end of this feckin' bar to the...."
SLAM!!!!!
The poor Troll didn't even have time to react before Rith had, in the blink of an eye, shapeshifted into an Iron Golem and slammed the poor man's head through a bar stool. The Troll's regeneration would, of course, save him from any permanent damage. He was, however, quite bloody well unconscious.
"Tell all your friends..." said the Changeling as his form shifted back to normal
"...that the C-ck just gave you a pounding!" ((
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