The Fall of Everything [Rewrite]

When Kragan entered the inn in the center of the city with his huge body, he attracted the attention of everyone inside. His footsteps made noise, as if an elephant was walking. His huge silhouette drew the gaze of everyone, from the innkeeper to the drunks in the far corners. He had a rare height even among the Rhazgord, over two meters tall and with broad shoulders, he was not a man but a walking mountain. Zarqa, who had been walking silently beside him, had become invisible in the face of Kragan's majesty. Zarqa's slender build and silent steps were a stark contrast to Kragan's loudness. But it was this contrast that made them the perfect mission duo.
Kragan's muscles were the result of endless training in the army camp during his childhood. Other young men would stop training at noon and go home exhausted. But Kragan wanted more. In the corner of the camp, he would continue to do additional training to further develop his huge muscles. At the same time, Corvus, like Kragan, was an unsatisfied warrior. The two met during this extra training and soon became friends. Then Baldrek joined them and a deep friendship developed between the three.
Zarqa sat quietly at the table while Kragan watched everyone in the inn. As soon as he sat down, Kragan began to shout in a booming voice:
"Bring food! A lot of it!"
His voice was so strong that everyone in the inn fell silent for a moment. The innkeeper rushed to them, speaking only in a broken accent, trying to understand Kragan's order. But Kragan's booming voice was so loud that even people on the street could hear it, and it was impossible for the innkeeper not to hear or understand it. Kragan fidgeted impatiently in his chair, the wood creaking under his weight.
"I said I want food! Bring whatever you have! I haven't eaten anything today!"
Kragan's voice echoed as if he were giving orders on a battlefield. But the innkeeper did not seem to understand what he was saying. Zarqa, recognizing the situation, intervened in a soft but clear voice in Adler:
"Food. Lots of food," he said, pointing to Kragan. Then he pointed to himself and said, "Less food." Zarqa and the other Rhazgordians knew almost no Adler, but the Innkeeper gave Zarqa a nod of understanding and quickly turned back to his stall, while Zarqa took a deep breath and began to look around. Kragan frowned, grumbling about the innkeeper's lack of knowledge of the Rhazgord language. He muttered to himself in a surprisingly low voice:
"This idiot can't speak Rhazgord language."
Zarqa nodded. Kragan's massive body was a perfect distraction, but a quiet, observant man like Zarqa was adept at noticing the oddities around him. That the innkeeper did not speak Rhazgord language was not a problem in itself, but this innkeeper was working alone in a large and crowded inn. Most of the tables were full, some were full of Rhazgordians, but only one person was serving. And this person did not even speak the language of most of his customers.
Zarqa tried to unravel the mystery behind these small details. The accent of the innkeeper, the lack of staff, the unusual situation for an inn in such a busy part of the city. These were signs that did not fit the normal functioning of an inn, and Zarqa's suspicion grew.
A few minutes in the inn was a lifetime for Kragan. He was starving, impatient, and his eyes darted around for food. Because of the morning's chaos, not a single bite had entered his stomach. The inns always had hot food and orders were quickly prepared, but this time things were different. At the height of Kragan's impatience, he fixed his eyes on the innkeeper and shouted in a booming voice, banging his hand on the table:
"Where the fuck is the food?!"
Kragan's voice echoed through the inn. Behind the counter, the innkeeper, who had been moving in a hurry, picked up his pace. Kragan's intimidating size and anger were enough to make the poor man sweat. Soon the innkeeper came to the table with two plates of food. But the food was not what Kragan had expected. It was obvious that the food was of poor quality, hastily and carelessly prepared. There was no pre-prepared food, even though there were so many customers in the inn. This raised Zarqa's suspicions even more.
Kragan looked angrily at his plate. It took him only the first bite to realize that the food was tasteless, but he was so hungry that he continued to eat even though he was disgusted. Each bite he chewed tested his patience a little more. Zarqa was quietly observing. His eyes fell on the men sitting at the tables. They were dressed like merchants, but when he looked carefully, all they had in front of them was a drink. Traders usually ate at this hour, but these men were content with alcohol. It was rare for a merchant to drink alcohol at such an early hour. Moreover, the men's bodies looked more like warriors than merchants. Even though their clothes hid them, their muscular build was unmistakable. Zarqa felt it was time to act.
He tilted his head slightly towards Kragan, a silent signal that told Kragan to "start". Kragan reluctantly pushed his food aside and suddenly threw his plate to the ground. As it hit the floor and shattered, he announced his anger in a booming voice:
"Anyone who eats this shit can't be human! This inn has to be catering to dogs!"
Kragan's voice echoed through the inn like thunder. The men at the tables, disguised as foreign merchants, watched Kragan's outburst without responding, not understanding what he was saying. But the drunken Rhazgordians in the inn did not take it lying down. One of them pushed his chair aside in a huff and stood up. His back was broad and his voice strong enough to rival Kragan's.
"Fuck off if you don't like it!" he said, glaring at Kragan. ""You think you're shit because of your fat fucking head?"
Kragan's eyes suddenly flashed dangerously. The muscles in his neck tensed, his fists clenched, and he prepared to lunge at the man, as if he had just sparked a bar fight. But just then Zarqa's cold, determined voice echoed in Kragan's ear:
"Don't rush and don't kill anyone."
As Zarqa's warning fed Kragan's dark side, a devilish smile appeared on his face. Hunger, anger, and the desire for violence blended together, making him ready to explode. Zarqa's words sounded almost like an invitation to Kragan. His whole body was ready to savor this violence as he started the fight.
"Don't kill anyone," he muttered, as if starting a ritual.
Kragan's huge body began to move like a giant sledgehammer in the narrow space of the inn. The moment he raised his hand, he deflected a punch from the Rhazgord warrior in front of him and picked up the table in his other hand and threw it into the air. As the table spun in the air and hit the ground, it seemed like a ball of fire to the innkeeper's eyes, and the sounds of clashing wood and iron filled the inn as Kragan moved forward in chaos. With every movement, tables, chairs and even people were thrown around, turning the inn into an apocalypse. He deliberately bumped into men dressed as merchants who got in his way, bringing them into the fight. Seeing the confusion and fear on each of their faces only added to Kragan's joy.
Meanwhile, Zarqa moved silently in the midst of the chaos. As the storm of destruction created by Kragan drew all eyes, Zarqa moved like an invisible shadow to a corner of the inn. There, a thick wooden door caught his attention. A sturdy lock hung on the door, an implausible detail, since the innkeeper must have been coming and going through it all the time. The size and strength of the lock caught Zarqa's attention. He was almost certain that what he was looking for was behind this door. But breaking the lock would leave a mark, and Zarqa was not one to make such mistakes. He chose the hard way.
He took a small lock pick from his pocket and carefully began to pick the lock. His fingers probed the lock with quick and precise movements, and clicks and small cracks could be heard. Zarqa had learned this skill on one of his mercenary expeditions. After a few seconds of meticulous work, the lock slowly opened. Zarqa quietly opened the door and stepped inside. The air inside was cool and dark, filled with the smell of old wood and steel.
When he entered the warehouse, he found dozens of crates lined up in neat rows. There was no food or drink inside. He began to open them and what he found inside confirmed the secrets he was looking for: Weapons, long-lasting supplies, medicines... This warehouse was not a merchant's stash of supplies; it was an arsenal. Zarqa continued to quickly examine the crates, each one holding clues to the preparations for a war. This many weapons and supplies could not be a coincidence, they had to be related to the man Corvus had chased and the men who had been watching the camp.
Zarqa had learned everything he needed to know. Now it was time to turn back. Silently he closed the door, put the lock back on, and disappeared like a shadow into the crowd of the inn. In the middle of the fight, Kragan was throwing punches, knocking over tables, knocking down his enemies. Zarqa found Kragan's eyes and gave a silent signal. Immediately Kragan sprang into action and played the final act of the fight. With one last punch, he knocked down the man who opposed him, and then, one by one, he knocked down the last few men around him. Their eyes locked on each other as the two men wreaked havoc in the inn. The plan had succeeded.
Zarqa quickly headed for the back door of the inn. He had to disappear like a shadow, because there were men slowly gathering outside the front door. These were Tanar's men and they had heard the sound of the fight in the inn. They had come to restore order and punish the guilty. When they saw Kragan, they gasped in surprise. While they were wondering how to control a giant like Kragan, Kragan walked towards them in his usual relaxed manner.
"I will never eat here again, even if the gods command it," he shouted, as if all this chaos was caused by the terrible food. Then he threw his sword and other weapons at the men's feet.
As the men looked at each other with puzzled expressions, Kragan continued sarcastically: "What are you looking at? Aren't you going to arrest me and take me to Tanar?"
The mockery and threat in his words made Tanar's men's eyes glaze over. But before they knew it, Kragan was already acting as if he had surrendered. By then, Zarqa had already disappeared into the alleyways. Thanks to Kragan's diversionary maneuver, Zarqa was able to return to the camp easily and unnoticed.