Sandskipper Shanghai
Log Info
- Title: Sandskipper Shanghai
- Emitter: Cryosanthia
- Characters: Cryosanthia, Asmli, Durgash, Ezil, Merek, Strike
- Place: A05: Ox-Strength Tavern
- Time: Sunday, February 09, 2020, 2:33 PM
- Summary: An illicit notice at the Adventurer's Guild details a simple 'loading and unloading' low-paying job at the Ox-Strength tavern. Upon arrival, a giant Arvec Nar explains the task fully. The Sandskipper's crew is drunk in the Ox-Strength, and their Captain wants them out, but doesn't want to pay. So, start a bar fight, and throw every goblin wearing certain coloured pants outside so the ship's officers can stick them in a cart. Sounds simple, but the 26 occupants of the rough establishment could make things difficult. With careful tactics, the party divides itself, then divides and conquers, getting into fights with goblins and managing to avoid upsetting the other drinkers. Finally, damages are paid, drinks are shouted all round, and the crew of the Sandskipper is taken away.
Ox-Strength Tavern ------------------
The worst sailors, mercenaries, thugs and dock-workers frequent this place, making it one of the most dangerous bars in the city. Its wooden floors and sturdy furniture are scarred from brawls, and the plaster on the walls is broken away in places from the brick underneath. Tucked against the large, steel diamond-pained windows are a few narrow booths providing a view of the street and all its traffic while letting smoky sunlight stream in and preventing patrons being thrown out through them. Little lamps hang from the cieling beams to provide light when the sun goes down.
At the back is a long bar of pitted, much-polished oak sitting beneath a bay of cuboards. Its here that the owner of the bar can usually be found operating the taps and fiddling with the large copper samovar on one end against the wall when she isn't out serving drinks and basically running the whole bar. There's even a few potted violets behind the bar in the open case where bottles are stored. There's a sign in chalk listing the house specialities, along with whatever will be being served for dinner that night.
The food and drink here is good, despite the clientele's rough and frankly undesirable nature and the smell of pipe tobacco and beer that never seems to come out of the wood; the most popular thing being the curries redolent with spices and the hard ciders, both of which she makes herself in the kitchen. Part of the bar itself, it should be noted, bears the marks of electric damage, with spidery black burn marks radiating out from a charred spot right near the inner edge, where the 'tender stool is located.
Over against one wall is a pot-bellied wood stove, with two much-abused leather chairs facing it. Near to that is a locked door that appears to lead to the owner's apartment above the Ox, while a pair of swinging doors at the end of the bar leads to the kitchen.
-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-= Appearing, in Order -=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=
Cryosanthia 0s 6'7" 245 Lb Sith-Makar Female
A dashingly tall, lithe white lizardgirl with tattoos.
Asmli 1m 4'2" 178 Lb Storm Dwarf Male
Blonde khazad with a dwarven urgrosh.
Durgash 1m 6'9" 305 Lb Orc Male
A young oruch with green skin and long black hair.
Ezil 7s 5'11" 175 Lb Human Male
An armored man with dark skin, and grey-blonde hair.
Merek 2m 5'10" 215 Lb Human Male
A black-haired, dusky male with golden eyes.
Strike 20s 5'11" 155 Lb Half-Elf Female
A dusky grey half elf girl in grey and black clothes.
-=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=-
The Adventurer's Guild had a job posting. A few details suggested it wasn't legitimate: the paper was different; it lacked the usual stamp and signatures; there was a weedy hobgoblin sailor watching it, who never approached and read the notice; the pay was low, very low; and the task description was vague. 'Wanted: Adventurers to help loading and unloading. Meet at the Alleyway beside OX-Strength Tavern.'
The pub in question seemed to be in full swing, full of occupants making merry with loud raucus singing and the occasional sound of glass breaking. On the street, Snow flurries drift silently down from the pale grey sky. The air is damp and cold, and there is little wind. A white-scaled sith-makar woman walks past, carrying a towel, a pic-nic basket, and a bottle of white wine. She looks like she's heading to the beach. In the middle of winter. Everyone else nearby is more sensible, seems to be a typical Alexandrian, human or humanoid, colourfully clothed, and is going about their business.
It's in the alley-way where it is all made clear. A truly massive Arvek Nar fills the narrow space. He's seven feet tall, bulging with muscles. His shoulders touch either wall, blocking out the sky. His torso tapers in a V to solid legs which barracade the opposite end. Truly someone you don't want to meet in a dark alley, and yet you are. He speaks with a heavily accented drawl, "Awrigh' berks, 'ere's da skinny. I'm 'he firs' ma'e ov 'he Sandskipper, an' Cap'ain's righ' ready 'o shove off. Grief is, da crew's in deer shee's 'o da wind an' ignawin' 'he bells, so we goa shanghai dem back on board. Cap'ain don' wan' 'o pay 'heir bar owins aw damages, so 'ere's 'ah dis is goa go down."
"Go in dere, ge' a drink, den star' a figh'. Do wha'ever ya can 'o knock de guys ou', drag em ou', push 'em ou'. Don' kill dem! they're jus' idio's. Cushy enough 'o 'ell our crew, 'hey're all gobbos in sailaw kit. Now, mos' ov 'hem isn' goin 'o come cushy, dey go' knives an' a couple dragonspitters. So don' kill dem, even 'hough 'hey gonna stab you in de boat race. Also, you see a dragonsptter come ou', don' le' dem shoot it! Watch will come licki'y spit. Don lose dem dragonspitters, deys expensive. So, simple again, go in, smack dem ou' de doaw, we'll be loadin' em up on a wagon. I gotta stay ou'side, on accoun'a da owner recognizes me, an' da' would give de game away. De o'her people in dere, dey probably gonna figh' 'oo, bu' don bodda wif dem, push dem in'o someone else aw ge' ou' ov de way."
There's a rumble of wheels on cobbles and a manure wagon, sans manure, rolls up outside the bar. The driver waves down the alleway. The giant hobgoblin says, "Dats de ride. Ok. No questions? Good, in ya go."
Looking inside, there are approximately 15 goblins in sailor uniforms distributed about the bar, in groups of 2 or 4, and 10 other patrons, mostly orcs, at other tables. Plus one surly bartender.
Asmli has been bored, anyway, and could use the coin. If it isn't real, well, there are other places he can put that urgrosh, and in his mind, it would serve the faker right. So he's here, urgrosh over his back and listening intently. Sailor patois is a tough thing to make out, and he has to listen carefully. "Hold up a moment, friend." He looks around at the others. "This'll go way better and we won't get tossed out, or spill the booze, if we go in with a plan. Who else is in there, aside the keep?"
Durgash will show up for this alleged job, he's desperate for cash since he's trying to buy a smithing wagon, and he's no problem with the Ox. It's a bit like some of the places back home. A bit high class, compared to some places, but not too uppity. He doesn't quite fit with the crowd, but he can fake it, and he listens to the job with a puzzled look. "I think you said we need to go in there and start a barfight with your crew and drag them out, but I'm not sure because I don't speak whatever language you finished off with."
Ezil doesn't know why he is here now, having heard the words of the Hob, and looking to the others that gathered. "Oh this can't be legal." he says to himself, sighing and looking to the cart. "If there is going to be trouble... I guess I should go to keep it orderly." but as Asmil and Durgash speak he can't help but laugh. "Okay, I thought I barely heard that much. I guess I did." the other two seeming to affirm his worries. "No chance at diplomacy?"
Merek had decided to come and assist with this, while he's with the team of those Adventurers. A sith-makar going to the beach was the most unusual thing about this all, to be honest. He just nods, "So, you want the Sunday special?" he asks the hobgoblin. "We can do it." To those that know him, he looks a bit different, with the magenta ombre in the front of his hair, while he keeps a longcoat upon him which has a floral pattern upon the back.
The man looks to Ezil and blinks a bit, "I mean technically a lot of the work we do isn't always legal." The beltcape of that attire is adjusted while he looks about.
Mostly here for the learning experience, Strike listens with folded arms while the wall with the accent unloads the plan, and acceptable parameters. She glances at the Oruch as he speaks, "They have guns and knives. The guns are part of the crew as far as he's concerned, don't let them sound off. She looks to the one who recommended a plan, then, "A plan is prudent. Disable the ones with firearms, first. Own the exits in case their morale breaks sooner than expected."
The giant hobgoblin says, "Dats de skinny, roight. Get de gobbos and guns out. You kin be de dippymanc' iff'n ye want but be dey blotto drunk. Good luck gettin' de words in dey ears. De fire, dats good 'hinkin'. Cap'ain'll laugh she hears it. Dere some odda crew in dere, dey not on da list, doan care wit' dem wha' happens. Oh, crew likes a shanty chant, get dem singin' mebbe dey not cot'on what you up to."
GAME: Merek rolls perception: (19)+25: 44 GAME: Durgash rolls perception: (8)+9: 17 GAME: Strike rolls perception: (16)+12: 28 GAME: Asmli rolls perception: (17)+3: 20 GAME: Ezil rolls perception: (14)+2: 16
Durgash nods slowly, checking the orders. "Go in, get a drink, start a fight, drag your crew out, is that the goal?" he checks. "How will we know which ones are yours?" he asks curiously. "I know you said goblins, but there could be goblins not in your crew, yes?"
"If there's anything I've learned in the coupla moons I been working for the Guild, it's never just go in pointy things first. That's a good way to get dead." Asmli flashes a grin up at the Arvek. "I say we set a fire and smoke 'em out. Block the chimney and warn the keep and the other patrons. I ain't no singer but maybe someone might try?"
"Dey got de pants like mine. We sor' ou' de gobbos dat not ours, or mebbe get new crew." The giant hobgoblin smiles, clearly unconcerned about hapless bystanders that get swept up. "Dat fire might work, but dey bin in fire before, dey still gonna need de helpin' out de door. So, get boulda rollin'." Or large scale property damage it seems.
Durgash looks at the Arvek's pants, nods slowly. "Simple enough. I don't know about smoking out the whole bar just to get a few guys, but I'm up for mugging some sailors and spoiling their drinking." So he'll head into the bar with a wide smirk, just that simple.
Ezil looks to Merek, nodding to those words. "Yeah, I understand that a bit, but this is just flagrant." he chimes with a small smile. "Though we're rounding them up, not really harming them." he notes. "Could.... consider it like a relocation effort? They need to go home, but need help on finding it?" he muses, and sighs pretty audibly at this situation as he prepares himself, actually stretching in his armor. "It does sound like a Tsuran's work, but... this Tsuran is pretty bad at Tsuran-ing." Is that a thing? He seems to think so, or it was a joke. Hard to tell. "I will defer to... well." looking again to Asmli and noticing Durgash as he goes in. "I'm not a singer." moving after the orc who went inside. "Mind the spitters."
Strike shrugs a bit and spends a few moments rebinding her ponytail in a twisted bun at the top of her head while the discussion continues. Best to minimize that risk, first, "Dereliction of duty, we're setting them straight." she replies with a shrug, "I'll take one of the gunners." then steps on in to see what sort of target selection she has.
The goblins all seem well and truly drunk. The Ox-Strength tavern is busy enough it will be difficult to do anything at one table without affecting the others. There are 2 goblins and 2 orcs playing a poker game, with a dragonspitter on the pot. The other tables have 5, another 2, a group of 4, and the single goblin at the bar. Three other tables have non-goblins, in groups of 3, 4, and 1. There are open spaces at the bar, and at the occupied table. It seems possible one could just sit right down anywhere, although some spots would get more looks than others. So far, none of the patrons seem to care that anyone new has entered and their drinking continues.
Seeing everyone else opting to charge in, Asmli looks at the door, then at the others. "Ah, whatever. It's just a bar fight." Shrugging, Asmli turns to follow the others in with a, "Hey, wait for me!"
Merek walks into the tavern with his longcoat shifting about, while he takes his goggles to look at the goblins, then he shifts that back while he considers. He then takes a moment to unatch his parasol, while he keeps that lifted up along the shoulder, "Barkeep! I wish your finest ale!"
Durgash will head over to the bar and place his order, beer. It doesn't get complicatex at the Ox, or rather, it does, but not in good places. Beer is what they serve, but you can take your pick of diseases with long and complicated names if you're unwary. So, he'll drink his beer and observe the crewgoblin next to him, calling "Hello," and grinning a bit ferally. It's not a bad grin, but nor is it particularly confidence-inspiring.
The goblin at the bar hiccups, gives Durgash a thumbs up, and wide grin feral grin in return. He seems happy.
Ezil positions himself between one table with the Oruch's, and the bar where Drurgash positioned himself. He waits, ready for the action to start, but not seeming to be the one who wishes to start it physically. He has another plan. "Hello!" he calls to the table near him, raising a hand, and then flagging at one of the waitstaff. "I'll take a small-beer? Anything light?" he asks, making a show of the weak drink he orders, turning back to the table. "You guys seem to be having fun. Whatcha doing?" being intentionally nosey and obnoxious. "You drinking? Yeah, me too."
"Small-beer? A small-beer?" The bartender laughs, and a few others around the Ox-Strength laugh also. The bartender walks over, slaps a mug down. "Sure. Looks like we got an elf slumming. Here's your Small Beer, small guy." The table he's positionned himself near are laughing the hardest at Ezil, then go back to their own conversation.
By khazad standards, most of what is served here is swill, but Asmli trails the others inside anyway. He ambles up to the bar, away from Merek and closer to the gobber end of the place. He seems intent on not being in -quite- the same place as the others. He's about to open his mouth when the others seem to have already managed to start something, so he'll wait for the moment, and see if something starts for real."
Strike meanders around some, scoping the place out and ventures toward the card game with one of the potential trouble firearms on the table. And, with a giggle, she reaches out to try and snag it, "Oooh, lemmesee!" she says with wide eyes. Here comes that brawl.
The poker playing goblins and orcs barely notice Strike as she approaches. Grabbing something out of their poker pot does get their attention and they all turn. One of the goblins reaches for it, "Dat's mine!" One of the orcs slams down his cards, "No I win. That's mine," also reaching for it. Slowly. They're so drunk.
Yoink! With the firearm in hand, Strike affects another giggle and, "Very awesome! So chill!" Slang... is not her thing, and well her acting is... well, acting, but she's already primed in case someone decides to make an admittedly appropriate response to her intrusions.
GAME: Durgash RAGES!, gaining +2 to melee attack/damage/Will saves and 6 temporary HP GAME: Durgash rolls 1d20+9: (2)+9: 11 GAME: Durgash rolls 1d3+6: (3)+6: 9
Durgash looks around as everyone laughs at the elf, and he'll slap the goblin next to him on the shoulder, shared joke comeraderie and all that. Then, in a split second, a red haze descends over his vision, and he'll take a swing at the guy, totally taking him unawares with the sucker punch. He's also got a swing like a club. That's orcs for you. The blow catches the goblin on the chin and rocks his whole body back. Durgash picks up the unconscious gobber, and slings him over his shoulder, eying the exit.
Seeing the fighting begin to break out around him, Asmli barely looks at those already present, instead raising his voice to make sure he's heard by barkeep and as many tables of gobbers as possible. "What you do that for, man? If all you want is gobber piss, all you got to do is ask, ain't like they serve much else. BARKEEP! You got anything that ain't gobber piss for me and this one?" He jerks a thumb at Durgash.
GAME: Asmli rolls intimidate: (5)+4: 9 GAME: Merek rolls cmb: (10)+8: 18
"Try this!" The bartender slaps a glass down in front of Asmli. It looks like a glass of water. The nearest goblin table overhear, look over and laugh. The bartender crosses his arms, "Go ahead. Drink it."
Merek looks to one of the goblins that is laughing, then he maneuvers to try and pick up one of the goblins. He does lift him up, "You, insulted my friend," he says, while he points to him, "Apologize." Then he begins to try to carry the dragonspitter goblin to the exit to yeet him, though he will probably be followed by his fellow goblins!
GAME: Strike rolls weapon0: (4)+8: 12 GAME: Strike rolls 1d8+3: (3)+3: 6 GAME: Strike rolls weapon0: (10)+8: 18 GAME: Strike rolls 1d8+3: (2)+3: 5 GAME: Orc rolls 1d20-1: (10)+-1: 9 GAME: Gobbo rolls 1d20-2: (2)+-2: 0 GAME: Gobbo rolls 1d20-2: (5)+-2: 3 GAME: Gobbo rolls 1d20: (1): 1 (EPIC FAIL)
The 'spitter-taker, expecting the intentive graspings of those around the table actually reward the two braver souls for their trouble. Strike brings her knee up under the goblin's chin as she twists the prize away and torques slightly on the ball of her other foor to extend that bent leg out in a snap kick across the Oruch's mush. In the aftermath? A sleep gobber and a likely very annoyed Oruch.
The goblin Merek grabbed doesn't seem to notice he's been picked up. In fact, as he's swung towards the door he gleefully shouts, "WHEEEEE! Hold my beer! T'hic! Throw me!" He tucks his feet up as if he's done this before. His drinking buddy chases after Merek, mostly by stumbling into him.
The 'Goblin Piss' insult can't go unchallenged. A valiant goblin rises to take it up, grabbing his beer mug and flinging it at Asmli. In his drunken state, he first sloshes himself with all the beer as he winds up, then throws it across the table into a drinking buddy's face as the beer blinds him.
GAME: Ezil rolls weapon0: (9)+5+2: 16 GAME: Ezil rolls damage0: aliased to 1D3+3: (2)+3: 5
Ezil just nods his heads to the Oruch's that ignore him, turning and catching the sight of Merek being assaulted by more than one of the Gobbo's. He sighs, leaving his original task, and taking a few steps and kicking the one with a missed his friend with a resounding thud. As the poor thing falls to the ground in an unconscious heap, he looks to the swill in his hand, and dumps it on top of the smaller creature. Can't have injury without insult in a bar fight. "Not fair to gang up on someone." though this might be hypocrisy. He did just cold-clock someone with his foot without warning.
The other orc at the gambling table moves around his buddy Strike to flank her, doesn't attack this round. Bartender stares at Asmli. No other non-goblin tables are reacting, although they watch with amused grins.
GAME: Strike rolls weapon0: (4)+8: 12 GAME: Strike rolls 1d8+3: (1)+3: 4 GAME: Strike rolls weapon0: (2)+8: 10 GAME: Strike rolls weapon0: (1)+8: 9 (EPIC FAIL) GAME: Strike rolls reflex: (13)+7: 20 GAME: Strike rolls weapon0: (13)+8: 21 GAME: Strike rolls 1d8+3: (6)+3: 9
Overconfidant, perhaps, Strike has clearly taken a large bite from her chosen plate. As the standing orc's buddy works around behind her, she thrusts a mule kick into his gut to only marginal effect, due to some shock-absorbing properties of his paunch, no doubt. She makes another shot his way, but he barely evades in his drunken weave. She hastily sends another knee at the second goblin, but her boot squeaks against the beersoaked floor and she only manages to keep her feet. With the first oruch still after her current 'hostage' she brings the elbow of the arm holding the weapon back into his nose and dropping him like he had a switch.
Durgash, having cold-cocked the goblin by the bar and scooped him up, now hustles his unfortunate victim out of the Ox, passing by the tables closer to the entrace, where he scoops up another unconscious goblin by the collar, to where the Arvek awaits his crew. He'll dump off the unconcious goblin with a rough smirk and head back inside. Hopefully there's still some left for him.
GAME: Merek rolls sense motive: (12)+4: 16 GAME: Ezil rolls sense motive: (9)+2: 11 GAME: Durgash rolls sense motive: (14)+3: 17 GAME: Asmli rolls sense motive: (8)+1: 9 GAME: Asmli rolls ranged: (20)+5: 25 (THREAT) GAME: Asmli rolls ranged: (1)+5: 6 (EPIC FAIL) GAME: Asmli rolls ranged: (7)+5: 12 GAME: Gobbo Will Save, rolls 1d20-3: (14)+-3: 11
Asmli peers into the mug he's handed, sniffs, laughs shortly. "Perfect, man. Remind me to try this for real later, an' may the Father fergive me fer wasting good booze, but looks like that lot needs a bath." Turning, he tosses the contents at the two gobbers who are watching and laughing.
<OOC> Cryosanthia says, "Roll diplomacy" GAME: Merek rolls diplomacy: (1)+24: 25 (EPIC FAIL)
Merek throws one of the goblins from the tavern, then he nods a bit, while he points to one of the next goblins, "You, you probably wouldn't like to keep fighting with people that could easily take you on if we weren't fighting you hand to hand."
GAME: Gobbo Perceptoin rolls 1d20-3: (19)+-3: 16 GAME: Gobbo rolls 1d20: (8): 8 GAME: Gobbo rolls 1d20: (19): 19 GAME: Gobbo rolls 1d20: (18): 18 GAME: Gobbo rolls 1d2: (1): 1 GAME: Gobbo rolls 1d2: (1): 1 GAME: Strike rolls weapon0: (10)+8: 18 GAME: Strike rolls 1d8+3: (8)+3: 11 GAME: Gobbo rolls 1d20+2: (14)+2: 16 <OOC> Gobbo says, "Ranged touch." GAME: Gobbo rolls 1d20+2: (16)+2: 18 GAME: Gobbo rolls 1d20+2: (15)+2: 17 GAME: Gobbo rolls 1d20+2: (1)+2: 3 (EPIC FAIL) GAME: Gobbo rolls 1d20+2: (17)+2: 19
The drunken goblins lurch into action. The one trying to avenge his friend and take back the dragonspitter walks into Strike's fist and goes straight down. She is surrounded by unconscious people.
Meanwhile, the troublemaker at the largest table of goblins heeds Merek's words, he does indeed, not want to fight everyone in the bar. Merek however, will do, and he whips his beer mug, slinging the contents in an arc towards the man, barely missing him. The table with four goblins think this is a great idea, expertly launching tightly grouped arcs of beer as well. Merek is splashed, and one of the goblins soaks a buddy at his table.
GAME: Ezil rolls weapon0: (17)+5: 22 GAME: Ezil rolls Damage0: aliased to 1D3+3: (3)+3: 6
The Orcs and Bartender are not bothered and are watching the show. They do nothing immediately hostile.
The Orc attacking strike thinks again; He will collect the winnings, and drink whats left on the table. he holds his hands up, backs away and sits back down."
Ezil sighs as the Goblins begin to fight with one another, and even with the orcs. He chooses his fights so he has an advantage, coming up behind one of a pair, and socking the goblin from the side with a hook. The goblin spins, and falls to the floor in a heap. Ezil can only look to the other goblin, offering a shrug. It seems someone has a knack for goblin-knocking.
Strike holds the last Oruch's gaze as she seems to have laid out everyone else at the table who wanted some of what she had to offer. As it seems he's going to check himself, she smiles a mite with a slight dip of the chin before she grabs a goblin and hooks him under her dragonspitter arm like she was carrying a pumpkin to market, then grabs the other goblin by the collar of his shirt before begining to drag him away, "Apologies for the mess."
GAME: Durgash rolls 1d20+11: (4)+11: 15 GAME: Durgash rolls 1d3+6: (3)+6: 9
Durgash has come back in and will hustle to the table where two goblins are fighting. He's got the right pants, so Durgash will come up behind one, tap him on the shoulder, and when he looks back, POW, right in the kisser. The goblin keels over like a puppet with the strings cut, and Durgash looks pleased with himself.
GAME: Asmli rolls weapon0: (15)+6: 21 GAME: Asmli rolls 1d3+3: (1)+3: 4
While Durgash is moving, Asmli, having achieved the desired result, hops down from his barstool with a khazadi smirk and hauls off on the other one, the one Durgash didn't lay out. His khazadi fist crashes into the gobber's skull, a glancing blow at best but enough to drop him. "Thanks, man," he shouts at Durgash, turning his next attention to the other gobbers at the table. If it's not wearing a sailor's uniform, the khazad is ignoring it.
GAME: Merek casts Dimension Door. Caster Level: 8 DC: 19 GAME: Merek rolls melee: (14)+8: 22 GAME: Merek rolls 1d3+1: (1)+1: 2
Merek looks at the goblins a moment when they splatter him with alcohol, then he sees the ones next to Ezil. "Ezil, I've got you!" he calls, then he maneuvers to protect his friend, taking a maneuver into a spin while he speaks a command word, "El al tresa!" Then he disappears, then he's appearing in the air while he spins right into the goblins. As well as the table, then right onto the floor while he maneuvers into a roll, while he shifts onto his back. This was not a well thought plan and he's now a prime target.
GAME: Gobbo rolls 1d20: (3): 3 GAME: Gobbo rolls 1d20: (16): 16 GAME: Gobbo rolls 1d20: (1): 1 (EPIC FAIL) GAME: Gobbo rolls 1d20: (17): 17 GAME: Gobbo rolls 1d4-2: (2)+-2: 0 GAME: Gobbo rolls 1d4-2: (3)+-2: 1 GAME: Gobbo rolls 1d20: (11): 11 GAME: Gobbo rolls 1d20: (12): 12
The goblins drunkenly stumble into action. Two turn on Asmli, swinging their empty mugs. One goes completely wide, but the second connects, shattering her mug and achieving at least a bruise. The table collapses under Merek, then he is hammered on the head by the goblin he struck in the face. The other two are still going at each other like old rivals.
GAME: Ezil rolls weapon0: (15)+5: 20 GAME: Ezil rolls damage0: aliased to 1D3+3: (1)+3: 4
"Hey!" Bang! The bartender slams a spiked bat on the bar top, then points the end at Merek. "That was a quality table that was! Me Mum nicked it. You're paying for that."
Ezil was left blinking as Merek fall from the sky, and socked the goblin before him. He looks to Merek, the goblin, and back to Merek, smiling with a laugh. It seems whatever just happened didn't fell the goblin, but it sure amused Ezil as he finishes knocking the goblin out with a quick straight punch. "How did you do that?!" he calls to Merek in mirth. "You..." looking back to where the mage was. "I like that trick!"
GAME: Strike rolls weapon0+2: (18)+8+2: 28 GAME: Strike rolls 1d8+3: (7)+3: 10 GAME: Durgash rolls 1d20+9: (6)+9: 15 GAME: Durgash rolls 1d3+6: (2)+6: 8
Still lugging her burdens to the door, Strike asides, "Hello, gentlemen." and with a slight cock of her head unleashes a quick side kick to the back of one goblin's pants that drives him straight into his crewmate's fist. That done, she looks fully ready to just keep making her way out like nothing was wrong.
Durgash laughs as he fights, "Ahahahaha," rage coursing through his veins as he slams a fist into another goblin's face, sending him back several feet to sprawl on the ground. He looks around and glares at the next goblin. Oh, he's gonna get it!
GAME: Asmli rolls weapon0: (13)+6: 19 GAME: Asmli rolls 1d3+3: (3)+3: 6
OW! Asmli swears colorfully as a mug is shattered over his head, leaving remnants of gobber piss in his stiffened blonde hair. Without thinking, he steps aside from the impending pincer and lashes out with a meaty fist, and this time connects full on, dropping the hapless gobber and her broken mug where they stand. "You want one of those, too?" he asks the other ome as the first crumples to the floor.
GAME: Merek casts Blessing of Fervor. Caster Level: 9 DC: 18 GAME: Gobbo rolls 1d20: (16): 16 GAME: Gobbo rolls 1d20: (5): 5
Merek looks up with a lift of a hand, while he begins to stand up, looking to all the party of adventurers, then he takes a moment to chant a few words of faith, then he makes a gesture, while the people are empowered. A look then to Ezil while he dodges a swing from the goblin, "Dimension stepping, it's a spell," he calls to his friend.
Team Gobbo is not doing well, with only two standing. Seeing Merek cast a spell, and considering the way he appeared out of no-where, the goblin close to him decides he is a serious threat! Pulling his dagger, he stabs, narrowling missing. Meanwhile, the one fighting Asmli smacks his lips, making a kissy face at him, "Yeah, gimme some!" He swings his empty mug at the storm dwarf, completely missing.
GAME: Ezil rolls weapon0+2: (13)+5+2: 20 GAME: Ezil rolls damage0: aliased to 1D3+3: (3)+3: 6
Ezil watches Merek dodge that blow, nodding as he steps forward and slugs the goblin that attacked at the man with a hard right. It didn't take much, the fourth goblin being put down to a slumber with a soft grunt. "I'm jealous, Merek. Your magic is pretty nice." he muses, looking to the goblins, grabbing two of them by their scruffs. "Let's get these guys outside."
GAME: Merek rolls intimidate-2: (20)+8+-2: 26 GAME: Durgash rolls intimidate-2: (5)+2+-2: 5 GAME: Bartender Will save, rolls 1d20+6: (19)+6: 25
A sense of wonderment and self-preservation descends upon the bartender, after Merek casts his blessing. He still looks angry, but senses it's really not worth it to get involved. He slides his bat off the bar, but keeps holding and tapping it out of sight.
GAME: Strike rolls sense motive: (8)+9: 17
Now that that's settled, Strike smiles to Ezil and Merek with a, "Gentlemen." There's a glance barwward, appraising Amsli's situation, then figuring he'll keep at least until she finishes with these overeager party machines, she goes on out to drop them off and fork the dragonspitter over to whomever is collecting the sailors. On her heel, she turns and makes her way back inside to start approaching the remaining festivities, though something in the vibe coming off the Oruch table prompts her to keep an obvious eye on the group as she passes them, still in no real hurry.
Durgash looks around, but it seems all but over, so he'll grab the two goblins he just punched out, and stride off with them, their legs dangling as he carries them in either hand, taking them outside and dumping them off with the ship's mate.
The orcs follow her progress as she moves by. Perhaps they saw STrike lay out the other orc, perhaps they enjoyed the fight. They all smile grimly at her, equal parts amused and threatening.
Durgash, going the other way, gets fewer glances but is also left alone.
GAME: Asmli rolls weapon0: (17)+6: 23 GAME: Asmli rolls 1d3+3: (3)+3: 6 GAME: Merek rolls diplomacy: (14)+24: 38
Ask and it shall be given unto you, seek and ye shall find. The gobber making kissyfaces at Asmli is his next target, and he laughs openly. "You asked for it, you little puke." Another meaty fist slams hard, right into those kissing lips, and it's lights-out time for the last of the drunken sailors.
So what -do- you do with a drunken sailor, earl-y in the morning? Haul them outside to the ship's good mate, that's what. With a grunt that says that he is thoroughly pleased with himself, Asmli picks up two gobbers by the scruffs of their jackets, and hauls them unceremoniously outside like so much firewood.
Merek looks to the goblins that were dealt with, while he looks to the bartender. "For everyone still up, a round of drinks! The best you have!" He places a few platinum upon the bar, while he motions, "Remember, visit your local clerics, come to praise the gods." A thumb offered up with a little nod between all of the patrons.
"Uh... wow. Yeah. That covers it." The bartender puts his stick away and claps loudly twice, "You heard the man. Order up."
He also puts down another glass of clear liquid, nods at Asmli, suggesting, "Take your time."
Ezil drags the two goblins out of the bar, returning for the others if he must for the others. He will at least try to be gentle now that he's slugged them unconscious. This means he will try not to run them into anything, or catch them in the door on the way out. "Never been in a barfight before. This was a new adventure for me." he says mostly yo himself.
Durgash will dump his two outside and go back in to see if there are any left. He'll give the orcs there a nod. Whether through professional courtesy or just good luck they didn't try to fight us, or things might have gone differently, but he's pleased wither way.
Merek takes time to move a couple of them, while he nods to the bartender, coming back with the party while he finds a drink to order himself. He then swigs that alcohol while he speaks, "Alright."
Strike nods to the Orcs, recognizing that they may still want a piece, but continues on task, gathering another pair of drooling goblins in her grasp, she turns and makes her way back out with the same mindfulness of the table.
Asmli does similarly, a bruise already forming on his temple where the mug broke, but it doesn't appear to especially bother him - or maybe he's too hard-headed to admit it. Drag out. Dump in an increasing pile, and he nods to any of the ship's officers present before turning and heading back inside. Once back inside, he nods in response to the barkeep. "Get this lot outside and sure and I'll be right there after that." He nods to the tankard, acknowledging its presence as he gathers up two more if so many are left.
Outside, the weedy Arvek Nar and the two sober goblins are loading up the manure wagon, moving the pile of goblins from the ground to the back of it. They're being somewhat gentle. The drunk goblin that Merek grabbed first is sitting on the tailgate and laughing happily. The giant Arvek is still keeping out of sight.
The orcs inside raise a fist to Durgash, respect! They got a laugh and a free drink out of everything, all told they consider it a win also. Strike gets a few nods as well.
Durgash raises his fist back to the orcs, and it looks like our work here is done, so he will head out. That was a pretty good fight," he considers. Even if no one got chopped in half.
GAME: Merek casts Angelic Aspect. Caster Level: 9 DC: 19
"So it appears." Strike replies as she piles up her latest cargo of goblins outside, "No one was seriously hurt, I trust?" She looks to her acquaintances, appraising their condition and nods, "Good fight. No needless casualties."
Merek lifts up a hand while mantras shift from both hands of his, then he places them together while two wings shift from the man's back, elegant in black-white with a little golden shimmer on it. Then he spins his longspear he keeps with him, while his longcoat shifts about, "Alright, I need to attend business. You all be well." Then his wings begin to lift him up while he waves, nodding to Ezil, and Strike, and all of the party, while he takes off.
Ezil sighs as he's done carrying the unconscious, moving to be done with this awkward job. He doesn't enter the bar again, opting to wait outside for the others as he wipes his brow, and takes a moment to look at Strike. "I can mend the cuts and scrapes if needed. I was lucky and came out clean." he mentions, taking his break and nodding to Merek. "Be well, Friend. I will catch up with you soon I suspect."
His job done, Asmli nods to the ship's officers, making a mental note to get to the Guild later for his pay. For now, he seems cheerfully inclined to amble back into the Ox-Strength and partake of that wonderful-smelling stuff the barkeep offered him.
Strike waves to Merek as he makes to exit, stage up, "Be well." Ezil's offer prompts a small, almost smug smile, "Thank you, but they never touched me. I was briefly concerned when I lost footing, but, overall, room for improvement, but nothing dire." With the Khazad going in for his spoils, she says, "You can have mine as well."
"Corr, well it ain't every day you see an Angel. We've been blessed gents. You better go a-praying when you're done drinking." The Bartender suggests, and the smile he gives Asmli when the dwarf returns is a genuine friendly one.
Outside, the sober sailors finish loading up the rest, one takes the reins. With a snap the cart rolls off. As it passes the alley-way the giant Arvek Nar appears, loping after it, catching up with the sideboard and hanging on. The stinking drunk goblins in the stinking cart rumble off towards the docks, their captain, and their waiting ship.
