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  1. #1

    Bar Brawl (Open to All)

    It was a dark and stormy drink.

    The ginger beer had long since succumbed to old age, the rum had drowned itself in equal parts water, and the twist of lime had more fermentation kick than anything else - but it was palatable enough for anyone on a proper bender. The perfect drink for the establishment. A seedy longhouse with plenty of trestle tables and many a person seeking solace from the bottle or fortune from a round of gambling. Elbow room was a hot commodity, packed so tightly among friends and strangers that were all too friendly. The smell was atrocious - the sawdust on the floor did little to soak up the sick, and the air was hot with too many bodies crammed into one place.

    Risk had gathered at one of the quieter tables to try her hand at a game of chance, and hope lady luck was on her side that night. She’d set off on her own that night, away from her compatriots in the Greenspike mercenary company, although she had no doubt those fellows of ill-repute would show up sooner or later. Instead, she whiled away the hours of the night intent on winning back some of her gold from a group of six knaves and robbers, cloaked in filthy capes and dim-tavern light.

    One by one, her fellow gambler’s had all folded until it was left to just Risk and a broad, greasy man who’d won fair too many hands so far. He had the cold glint of steel in his eye, and a shining gold tooth that made an appearance each time the fucker showed his cards. Her own eyes darted between her hand and him, and her locks of red hair clung tightly to her olive skin drenched in tense sweat. When the fifth street revealed itself in the common cards, he’d smirked again.

    “Six-high straight,” he cackled, laying his hand down - the two of hearts and three of clubs. He reached for the pot with one beefy arm and slung back a shot with the other.

    Two of hearts

    Like a flash, Risk planted her kukri into the table; the curved iron blade pointing its hilt at its master. She was standing, or more accurately leaning over the table, with keen eyes hidden behind the thick black make-up she applied around them daily. The tavern grew quiet, or the mercenary had blocked out all the sound, so hotly focused on the man across the table from her. With nary a move, and little effort, she flipped her own hand to reveal a pair of twos - of clubs, and of hearts. More people around the longhouse began to take notice.

    “Are you callin’ me a liar,” said the gambler with a slight lisp as his fat tongue coated his lips.

    “I haven’t said a word, my friend,” Risk replied, unmoved - but bemused by the obvious lie. ”These Scara Brae folk are strange, and this Stonevale stranger still.”

    The cheater chased his shot with a swill of ale.

    “Then what are ya’ callin’ me? Better yet,” he reached behind his chair, and laid a massive pick-ax on the table - one that made short work of stone and even shorter of a skull, “What’re’ya gonna’ do?” His voice dripped with an unearned bravado. Again, Risk was confused at these strange customs. Her knife was in the table, her cards were clearly laid out; in Fallien, this matter wouldn’t be resolved until there were a few loose teeth on the ground. But perhaps the man had not been introduced to the finer points of etiquette.

    ”I’ll have to teach him.”

    Without taking her eyes off her opponent, she finished her dark and stormy in one swift gulp and let out an exaggerated, refreshed sigh - before launching the glass square into his forehead. It shattered like the cheap crystal it was, sending him back in his chair and almost to the ground. Before he’d had time to move, Risk leapt upon the table. Gold coins scattered as she swept a sandaled foot across it, reaching for her kukri and preparing to pounce on the man like a dune leopard. The others at her table fled, or stayed to grab at the loose money. A few more tables joined in, hoping to snatch a few more coins for a few more rounds.

    It seemed as if chaos would erupt at any moment.

    Quote Originally Posted by Risk
    Bar Brawl.

    Rules are simple. Anyone can join whenever, anyone can leave whenever.

    Introduce any fight you want.

    Challenge other PCs, NPCs, or continue to drink.

    Try to include an OOC note at the bottom of your post to easily illustrate what occurred. There isn’t a posting order, post when it makes sense.

  2. #2

    Elliya's Avatar


    Elliya Otthon
    This ties in directly to the events in Dovetails, where Elliya is trying to track down an associate of a bandit who robbed her.
    Hi, my name is Elliya- Nope, bad idea, try again.

    Hi, my name is Ell…ske. Elske. And I believe you stole something of mine. Although you don’t have it anymore, since you pawned it. Really you don’t have anything of mine, and I didn’t even have to pay to get it back, but you made me talk to that pawn shop owner and he was kind of an jerk so. . . you owe me. Also I guess technically you didn’t steal it, your friend did, but whatever.

    Okay, that probably needs a little bit more workshopping.

    Elliya kept an eye on the horizon as the ramshackle longhouse she was headed for loomed in her vision. In reality, it was relatively cramped and unassuming, but given the nature of the task ahead of her, it seemed in her eyes to almost blot out the sun.

    Focus, focus. We’ve fought worse. We? I have fought worse, and also I am a weirdo who refers to herself using “we” when she’s nervous apparently.

    Elliya knew that one bandit in a bar was unlikely to be a big issue. But interrogation and intimidation? That was another step away from her old comfortable life of crafting and farming back home.

    Ahem. Hi, my name is Elske. Your friend stole something of mine and sold it in this very town. You’re going to tell me where he is or you’re going to pay. Figuratively, I mean. Again to be fair it didn’t cost me anything to get it ba-

    You know what, he doesn’t need the long version. My thing, stolen, play nice or I’ll hit you. Easy.

    Elliya took a deep breath as she opened the door.

    Her first reaction was hot, putrid regret.

    Holy shit this place smells horrible. Is this on purpose? Nothing could smell this bad on accident, surely.

    Suppressing a gag, Elliya did her best saunter up to the bar.

    “I’ll, uh, I’ll have what she’s having.”

    Elliya gestured over at a vaguely nautical looking woman a few tables away who was talking animatedly at a few enthralled patrons.

    Nice, perfect. She looks cool. And like she belongs.

    The bartender glanced up at Elliya, unimpressed. “You mean an ale.”

    “Yeah. That sounds right. Thanks.”

    Nailed it.

    The bartender briefly turned their back before serving Elliya an uncomfortably warm glass of what she had to imagine was the cheapest ale in the house.

    Taking some tentative sips, Elliya looked around the bar as surreptitiously as possible, surveying the backroom deals, probably hilariously unfair card games, and even what looked to be a drunken proposal. At just a glance, there were already more than a few patrons who matched the generally disheveled description she had been given, and she wanted to take some care to not accost some random stranger on accident.

    Him maybe? No, too skinny. Not that guy, surely? They would have mentioned that facial hair if he looked like that. Definitely.

    Finally, her eyes settled on a ragged looking individual seated alone at the far corner who appeared to be gazing intently at a pile of coins accumulating from a tense-looking game of chance next to him.

    That looks like him! Maybe he’s trying to will himself some telekinetic powers or something. Wouldn’t that be a fun twist? Probably would make him a better thief than having to just use his hands all the time.

    Elliya set her drink down gently and slowly started meandering towards the person in question, feigning interest in the card game along the way.
    Once she reached his table, she sidled along the edge, placing herself between him and the gleaming objects of his affection.

    “Hell of a pot, isn’t it? You, uh, like to gamble?”

    The man stared wordlessly back at her.

    Okay, let’s try this again.

    “Hi, nice to meet you! I’m Elske. Your friend stole-”

    The man immediately stood up and made a cut to the right, quickly angling to bolt for the door.

    You know, I’m almost glad he didn’t snitch right away. It just wouldn’t have felt like I was getting the full experience.

    Elliya pivoted to block his escape when someone careened into her from behind, knocking her off balance. The energy of the bar suddenly shifted as the world seemed to erupt into fighting around her.

    Nevermind. Universe, are you listening? Next time I would be totally happy with a blabbermouth, really.

    The sounds of unrepentant property damage filled the air as Elliya recovered her footing and pushed her way through the throng after her target.

    At least there’s going to be a lot of demand for someone who knows how to fix chairs tomorrow.

    Elliya arrives at the bar and finds her target, but hasn't yet begin to fight.
    Last edited by Elliya; 01-22-2021 at 03:34 PM.

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