You leap over the bar before either of the men have time to register what's happened. The knife in your hand seems to move of its own accord; it's as though it is moving itself and your hand happens to be holding it, rather than you actively wielding the knife. You lunge at The Barkeep and drive the knife into his eye.

He screams and falls to his knees, dragging you and the knife down with him. Despite the pain he's in, he manages to grab onto you with one of his massive hands and slams your head against the ground. Your vision goes red with rage and blood. You scream and tear yourself away from the man, kicking and clawing. The second you manage to struggle free, you find yourself jumping back onto him, scrambling for the dagger that's still lodged in his eye. You take the knife and hack away at his face and throat. He throws up his hands to stop you, and you jam the blade hilt-deep into his palms. With a scream, he wraps his free hand around your throat and squeezes.

Once again, you find your vision going red, your throat burning, your lungs screaming for air. The difference is that this time, the knife is still in your hand. You yank it back, and it comes free of the Barkeep's palm. With great effort, you stab the dagger upwards, into the forearm of the hand that's holding you. The blade goes straight through the muscle between the bones.

The Barkeep screams and lets you go. You gulp down air and your vision clears. With the dagger back in your hand, you crawl farther back against the bar counter and watch the Barkeep writhing on the ground. He kicks and spasms in a puddle of his blood, his hands alternating between reaching blindly out and holding onto his neck to staunch the bleeding.

It takes him minutes to die.

You get to your feet and look for the Pale Man, only to find him gone. You curse and wipe the bloodied blade on one of the bar rags. Irritation fills you for a hot second, and you're not sure if it's your irritation, or the dagger's. .

Don't worry, comes a thought that you're only half-sure is your own. We'll find him later.

The thought is comforting, and you can't help but smile. If it turns out you never find your name, never leave this weird world, at the very least, you'll have something to keep you occupied.

You climb over the counter and leave the bar empty except for the corpses. The Barkeep had said the Snake Queen was to the south, so that's where you'll head next.

-->[You wander the desert.]