Curse of the Amber Thorn
Adventurers' Guild, afternoon
This one's a bit of a doozy. The guy posting the request for help is a heavyset human by the name of Salidus Arngrim. "My friends call me 'Slab'," he says gruffy, as you step into the small briefing room in the Guild headquarters. The man runs his fingers through his close-cropped salt-and-pepper hair. "And I... really do have a problem."
"A month ago, I bought an old tavern over in the lower trades, near the docks. Used to be called the Amber Thorn, but I figured I'd rechristen it as the Drunken Armadillo." He smiles slightly. "Hey, times change, right? But... that was before I found out the place was -haunted-."
Slab sighs, his shoulders slumping. "I don't know what happened -- magic, dead people, dirty joke by Tarien -- but now every time someone tries to buy a drink, there's a... ghostly bar brawl. I paid for an augury by the priests; they said the fight had to be finished -- and the bouncers I hired aren't cut out for this."
"I can pay you, and drinks on the house if you stop by. But I've got most of my savings sunk into this place and I -have- to get it running soon, before spring."
Harkashan is on the quiet side - in as far as that deep growl in his chest allows him to be quiet - as he stands with the others within the guild. Carefully listening, his arms crossed. When the first talks of this mission came down, it had to do with a Haunting. Being one to deal with undead normally, it meant that Harkashan was particularly interested in this one.
This.
This is not what he expected.
He glances to Rune for a moment, mouthing a 'what?', before turning back to Slab.
"Please define 'the fight has to be finished'." He inquires with the man in front of him. "Are you asking us to go fisticuffs with a bunch of ghosts, or what is going on?" The Death Singer inquires with Slab, motioning his hand a bit as he speaks. Trying to be more emotive.
A hooded form of an athletic woman seems to be taking in the job that is being proposed to them. Rune lifts her eyebrows, looking a bit incredulous about the whole ordeal. Her lips part slightly, as if any number of questions want to form on them, but she holds htem back. It wouldn't do good to question good sense of someone offering up a job, it doesn't bode well for being hired.
Her blue eyes flick over towards Harkashan, meeting his gaze and taking in the mouthed question before lifting one shoulder in a half-shrug.
This does bring a particular sort of challenge for her in particular, enough so that the rogue speaks up on the matter. "So, I'm all for helping where I can, but I'm not really sure that these will do much good against a ghost." Rune rests a hand on one of her short swords, lifting her her eyebrows. "What exactly are we looking to do?"
With his chin resting on the palm of his right hand, Lucius nods occasionally as he listens to Slab's request. "I'm wondering the same thing myself. My first instinct is that a purely magical solution would be the most effective for this type of issue, but given you've already tried that, perhaps this is the only choice." He frowns skeptically. "To be perfectly clear, I don't have any experience fighting ghosts hand-to-hand. I don't know how to approach this type of combat, but there's got to be a way."
He glances toward Harkashan and Rune. "Would either of you have dealt with ghosts in the past?" he asks hopefully. "Oh, by the way, I'm Lucius, or Luke if you prefer." He extends a hand by way of introduction.
Slab raises his hands, his face betraying a little panic. "Wait! Wait, before you say anything..." He swallows. "Look, when it... starts up, it's not like they're -ghosts-. It's more like a hallucination. But the thing is, the fight has to be -done-. It's like... like a play. Except all I know of the script is that there has to be a winner."
He sighs. "Look, I'm out of options. If I go to the temples, they might just opt to level the building. Even if I could afford a magical solution it could take time I just don't have. I -have- to get that haunt cleared out and soon. So yeah, I'm asking you to go in there, set it off, and punch out a bunch of people who aren't really there."
Harkashan nods his head with a grave look on his face. "I have." He answers Lucius, as he inquires on whether or not he or Rune have dealt with Ghosts before. "I have a few spells at hand that can help deal with them. But it usually requires multiple shamans to destroy them, or send them." He explains. "If there's multiple ghosts, this is bound to be trouble." He adds. "Or we invest in a lot of ghost-searing water." Holy Water.
Then, and only then, does he add; "Harkashan, of the Death Singers."
He then looks back to Slab, as he explains that it's a bit different from that. "Hallucinations?" The man squints a bit. "So nobody has gotten themselves possessed in this situation?" A pause, before he adds; "So... there needs to be a winner. Is that /one/ winner, or is that a 'group' of winners?"
Jacob is quiet, standing in the corner of the room with his arms crossed over his chest. "Holy Water." Jacob mentions after Harkashan says the words 'ghost-searing water'. "Could conduct a ceremony, or draw the ghosts out by stoking their ire, though that is a dangerous proposition in itself."
Jacob then clears his throat and falls into a steady silence. Best he doesn't interrupt.
Rune turns her attention to Lucius, the corner of her lips quirking slightly with a hint of her own amusement. At the very least, it seemed that she was not the only one at a loss for how to deal with the problem, given their skillset. In some ways, it comes as a bit of a relief. With the human offering out his introduction, she offers one in turn. "I'm Rune." She accepts the hand, inclining her head in turn.
With Harkashan his usual serious self, she offers some context to Lucius. "He's a healer, one of those life and death sorts. Probably more years of dealing with undead than we've been alive."
Her eyes look between the Makari and the taller man with the heterochromatic eyes, folding her own arms across her chest. "I don't have any problem giving the whole bar room brawl a shot. Can't say I've ever seen a fist do much good against a ghost, but there's a first time for everything. Otherwise... we can always try the boring, magical death ceremony route." She may just be a little irreverent about the whole thing. It comes from traveling with a cleric.
Luke nods again. "Holy water sounds promising," he agrees, "although it's a method I would have expected the priests to have already attempted." He taps his cheek with one finger as he processes the new information. "Oh, that's excellent. Glad to be working with someone of your expertise." He grins at Harkashan.
"I also suspect we won't be able to get to the bottom of this unless we see it for ourselves," he turns to Slab, echoing Rune's suggestion. "Would that cause any inconvenience for you?"
Slab seems visibly relieved at the prospect of someone trying to fix things, and shakes his head vigorously at Lucius. "No! Not at all! I... well, I haven't been able to open at ALL since the haunt started. The building's been closed." He sighs again. "I should've figured why I got it at such a good deal, too."
With the adventurers clearly interested in helping him out, Slab continues, "Look, I'll walk with you to the tavern. I've got the key, you can let yourself in, and I'll wait outside. The haunt goes off when someone puts a coin on the bar and asks for a drink -- doesn't matter if anyone's there to actually serve you or not. From there, well... hopefully you can work it out."
The Makari makes a long 'hrrrm' sound of acknowledgement as Rune speaks up. "Yes, one of those life-and-death sorts." He chimes after her in a tone that sounds like he's amused, but his features aren't human enough to easily pick up on the bemusement in him. Rune would. She's traveled around with him for long enough. That little sly lid of his eyes.
He appreciates that kind of humor.
"If other Clerics have indicated this is the best way to approach it, then I will assume they have done their research." Harkashan notes. "It has been a long time since I've been in a... 'scuffle'."
He puts a hand on Rune's shoulder - as he has done so many times - and then nods his head. "Very well, mister Slab. Guide us to your tavern."
A Cleric himself, Jacob nods at Sab. "Jacob, by the way. Sorry, I realize I didn't introduce myself." He turns his eyes towards Luke. "Perhaps they already have. But it would be nice to have some in our back pocket in case other plans fail." Though Jacob doesn't seem to have too much faith in the holy water. Perhaps if they did a ritual...
He looks at Harkashan. "Hopefully it will be a long time after till you face one again." Unless fights are sought out. His eyes briefly shift to Rune with a small smile on his face. "I don't know if fists will do well against a ghost, but there's a first time for everything."
"Good to meet you, Jacob." Rune replies, inclining her head. Her own response is a bemused smile, "Someone hires me to punch a ghost, I'll certainly give it my best shot." The Half-sil doesn't seem particularly sure that it will work, either, it seems. "It's at least a story to tell."
With the group seemingly onboard for a bit of ghost-hunting, Rune rubs a her knuckles and adjusts the set of her fingerless gloves. She gives a nod to Harkashan, and then steps forward, showing a sort of characteristic enthusiasm for something that could be a new, though strange, experience. "Let's go, then."
"Good thinking," Lucius replies to Jacob. "It sounds simple enough, but it's better to be prepared for the worst. This is unfamiliar territory for me, but I have faith in all of us working together." He tries to smile reassuringly at Slab. "Please lead the way, sir."
Having grown up in the less prosperous parts of this city, Sloan had a soft spot for some of the rougher characters in the place. So when the request had gone out to help one of said people, Sloan had not been found wanting.
Arriving at the appointed time, the dark haired Aesir nodded politely to those in attendance. His usual Butler's Livery replaced wth a simple tunic, Black linen gloves, Grey Woolen pants and a pair of soft soled boots.
With an actual adventuring party in tow, Slab leads you out of the Guild. He's reticent about talking -- probably because he's so relieved that maybe, just maybe, all his work thus far won't be wasted. Even with the weather still chilly, it's clear winter is slowly fading from Alexandria.
Arriving in front of the Amber Thorn -- or rather, the Drunken Armadillo -- it's clear the building may not have been in great shape but Slab has poured some money into refurbishing it. The door is new, thick wood and iron bands, and the sign over the door is newly painted, a reclining armadillo clutching a bottle. Slab stops, and fishes in his pocket for a large, heavy key, which he hands to Lucius.
"Well... here it is. I'm going to get a hot drink, and then I'll be back here." He pauses uncomfortably, then adds, "Good luck."
"So... why an Armadillo" Harkashan asks along the way to the group at large, seemingly curious about this - though it's of course largely leveraged towards Slab. It seems to be the only thing he actually wishes to know before they get to the tavern itself.
The sign is cute at least.
Harkashan looks to Lucius, and nods his head. "Get in, pay for a drink, and then we do this?" He asks. "Let me prepare a bit before we begin." Looking to get inside and pick a roomy area. He then begins to sprinkle silver dust onto the ground, taking his time to Consecrate a sizeable area of the tavern where he suspects the brawl will break out. When done, he notes; "Alright. Ready." E
GAME: Harkashan casts Consecrate. Caster Level: 3 DC: 15
Looking at the sign, Sloan clear his throat after a moment of thought and says. "Perhaps the more appropriate question would be ~what~ is an armadillo?" Looking at the door, the butler folds his hands behind his back in the familiar servant's ~I-can-stand-here-all-day~ pose waiting for the others to be prepared.
Jacob turns and looks at Harkashan at the question. "Why *not* an armadillo?" He grins softly, clearing his throat. He does turn his attention to Rune wit ha smile on his face."Nice to meet you too, Rune. As for the ghosts, perhaps one of us can bless your fists." He brings a hand to his chin. "Would they then become holy weapons?" He seems to be humoring her more than anything.
"Better have it and not need it than need it and not have it." He remarks to Lucius before he looks at the place. He cracks his knuckles through armored gloves. "Ready."
Rune can't help but offer a look of curiousity when Sloan joins them, perhaps a bit surprised that the butler would get involved int his sort of affair. Then again, he did have some interesting stories to tell, so perhaps this is the way one finds them. The Half-sil offers a smile of welcome, following along with the others to the tavern.
"Love the design." She admits, clearly taken in by the adorable animal on sign. As for the rest, well, it's obvious this place has its own stories. Delicate fingers trace over the wood, leaving plenty of room for the others to take their preparations. Rune has no sort of magic to call on. Insetad, she just waits near Sloan, waiting on the others.
As for Jacob, well... Rune just offers a wink in his direction as she flexes her fingers into a fist, and then she laughs quietly.
Lucius draws his greatsword. "I'm ready as well," he announces, a little sheepishly. He shifts his stance, evidently uncomfortable with the task they're about to undertake, but there's little that he can do at this point.
As you enter the tavern, and Harkashan starts scattering the powdered silver, there's a funny sense in the air. Like the whole building is holding its breath, waiting for a play to begin. Inside, the chairs are stacked on the tables and the bar is clean, if untended. No bottles in attendance, no mugs... it's a blank canvas waiting for a new hand to write or draw on it.
Luke blinks. "I think, uh, there might be some strange magic affecting this place." He carefully sheathes his greatsword and glances at the others. "Anyone else carrying weapons? I have a feeling that it might not be a good idea to draw them here, but I don't know why."
"Are they known to get drunk a lot?" Harkashan seems to wish to know from Jacob, as he finishes up and sprinkles some holy water to finish consecrating the area.
"And I believe it takes a bit more than sprinkling some holy water on a weapon to truly bless it enough to deal with Ghosts." He adds to that - playing off of his own limited experience with ghosts. He'll gladly be corrected. "If not weapons, see if you can grab a barstool or break off a leg from a table."
He then takes a coin out of a little satchel and approaches the bar, looking at the menu. "One ale please." He bids. And puts down the coin.
Stepping inside with the others, Sloan looks around at the neatly placed furniture, then at Luke as he shakes his head. "I have one or 2 objects on my person, but nothing of the calibre of your armament sir." as he speaks, the butler motions to the knife tucked in his belt, looking very obiously like it had been slipped from the butcher's block in the kitchen on his way out the door.
As Harkashan orders his drink, Sloan rolls his shoulders, standing near to the wall as he waits for what comes next.
The wink from Rune makes Jacob flush and look down at the ground. Though he clears his throat. "Well, you never know-" He starts towards Harkashan. "A good deal of holy water may give the hands enough holy magic to be able to /touch/ a ghost. Perhaps that would be enough." He smiles. "And I have no idea if armadillos drink a lot. Maybe?" Jacob shrugs.
He draws his shield and hooks it strongly on his arm, most likely leaving hte other open for casting, though he /does/ have a lance hooked on his side.
"I have a few magic stones that could be effective." Jacob adds, before he looks at Sloan as they step inside. "Perhaps the ghosts have a drink of choice?"
GAME: Sloan rolls knowledge/local: (5)+2: 7
When Harkashan's coin hits the bar, there's a lurch. Like something grabbed all of you and pulled you in a direction not normally associated with up, down, left, right, and so on. And you realize that your surroundings have changed. Gone is the sad, deserted tavern -- it's now well lit by mage-torches and candle-wheels, and voices are in the air. A harpsichord plays merrily in the corner, and over the bar hangs a vast yellowed horn, taken from some mighty beast indeed -- probably where the tavern got its original name from.
There are people here. Rough looking fellows, scruffy adventurers, salty sailors, even some off-duty watchmen. The barkeep and the tavern maids are busy as bees, putting drinks down, collecting tabs. And so they're not really doing a good job of monitoring who's been drinking and how much.
A burly half-orc stalks -- well, wobbles -- up to Harkashan, and bares his tusks. "What, you're not good 'nuff to buy drinks for the rest of us, scale-boy?" His two buddies behind him snicker loudly.
GAME: Harkashan rolls 1d20+2+wisdom+6: (15)+2+3+6: 26 GAME: Harkashan rolls 1d4+1: (1)+1: 2
GAME: Telamon rolls 1d4: (3): 3 GAME: Telamon rolls 1d20+3: (15)+3: 18 GAME: Telamon rolls 1d20+3: (16)+3: 19 GAME: Telamon rolls 1d3+1: (3)+1: 4
Harkashan's taken slightly aback at the sudden lurch of his surroundings. The way the surroundings suddenly change. This is very different from your usual haunting. This almost feels like one of those Spirit Journeys he's heard about from the other shamans. A change in the world so heavy that it almost feels real.
The haprsichord plays out, and the tall Sith-makar stumbles back just a little as the half-orc wobbles up to him and bares his tusk. He answers by hissing back at the half-orc and immediately grabbing a bottle from a nearby patron. He doesn't say anything, instead he's just backing off a bit and...
SMASH!
The bottle breaks on the Half-orc's face. Leaving just a few scratches perhaps, but shattering all the same...
Leaving Harkashan looking at the bottle for a moment, then back at the half-orc, who is presumably still standing. "Rune... some help here." He calls back.
The bulky half-orc gets clipped with the bottle, and stumbles back, slamming into one of his friends. Who staggers and falls onto ANOTHER table, whose occupants leap to their feet in outrage. One of THOSE drinkers jostles a barmaid, who dumps HER tray onto ANOTHER table... you get the idea. It's like one of those deranged gnomish inventions and the brawl spreads like wildfire.
The half-orc's other fellow snarls, lunging at Harkashan, but his grasping hands miss the makari. However, one of the other patrons, completely riled now, manages to slam a punch into Lucius, as the crowd dissolves into a bar fight.
Well, they sure don't feel like ghosts to you.
GAME: Rune rolls 1d20+dexterity+4: (8)+4+4: 16 GAME: Rune rolls 1d3+1d6: (2)+(5): 7 GAME: Telamon rolls 1d20: (3): 3
"I have weapons, but I can keep them sheathed." Rune replies, moving her cloak slightly to show the two scabbards of her short swords. The blades are her usual weapon of choice, but one doesn't usually bring a sword to a fist fight.
She has her lips parted, as if about to say something else when that sudden lurching sensation has her shifting her stance to better stay stable on her feet. A sudden waft of stale alcohol and unwashed bodies hits her nose and the rogue resists the urge to gag. Instead, it comes out as a cough.
Then, she just ends up staring in the direction of Harkashan. "But. You. Just. What the heck, Hark?!" The girl is quick enough on the uptake to realize that her friend is about to get double-teamed. So, when one of them misses a lunge at the Makari, she calls out, "Hey, tall dark and stupid. Over here!"
When the brawler turns, Rune rears back and kicks the guy square in the shins. There is a moment of confusion as the attack takes the man's leg right out from under him, sending him sprawling.
GAME: Sloan rolls melee+4: (8)+6+4: 18 GAME: Sloan rolls weapon0: (13)+6: 19 GAME: Sloan rolls damage0: aliased to 1d6+4: (3)+4: 7 GAME: Sloan rolls damage0: aliased to 1d6+4: (3)+4: 7
GAME: Lucius rolls melee+6: (9)+5+6: 20 GAME: Lucius rolls 1d4+Strength: (2)+3: 5
As the scene changes in the bar, Sloan looks around in confusion. then there was the half orc. As he mentions paying for a round for the bar, the butler took a half step forward, hand going to his belt for his money pouch. Then the bottle breaks and pandemonium erupts.
Clearing his throat, the Dark haired Aesir nods. "Right. to work then!" his voice getting a little bit louder as he pivots on the ball of a foot, kneeing an in-rushing patron in the groin before slamming his forehead into the man's face with a snarl. He knew the man was down even as he turned to face the next taker.
GAME: Jacob rolls Melee+6: (13)+4+6: 23
Lucius instinctively backpedals as he's hit, grabbing a barstool to defend himself. Charging toward his attacker, he smashes the stool against the side of the man's face, before looking around to assess the state of the brawl.
GAME: Jacob rolls 1d3+Strength: (2)+2: 4
GAME: Harkashan rolls 1d20+2+wisdom+6: (14)+2+3+6: 25 GAME: Harkashan rolls 1d4+strength: (3)+1: 4
GAME: Telamon rolls 1d20+2: (1)+2: 3 (EPIC FAIL) GAME: Telamon rolls 1d20+2: (2)+2: 4
"It appears as though we must handle this the old fashioned way."
And everything. Chooses. Chaos. Harkashan is going for somebody, Rune goes to back him up, and Lucius smashes a stool ovr a big guy's head. Jacob's eyes narrow when the blow only stagger the man and he cracks his neck. He runs towards the man, jumps up, and smashes his forehead against his temple, knocking the spectral interpretation straight to the ground in an 'unconscious' heap.
"Aghhh...." He rubs his forehead. "Still hurts. Just in case you had wondered." He grins a bit as he lifts his hands back up with a grin. He remembers brawls like this that occasionally happened in his Tribe.
/Those/ were fun.
"Serriel guide me." He lifts his hands up and he's ready for more!
Harkashan is quick to extend his other hand and grab for the half-orc's fellow and grabs their hair, before pushing them away. The sith-makar knows how to keep moving. His slithering tail shifting, almost tripping another patron. Rune manages to get in immediately after. "I'm trying to follow the script. You said that to make something a proper 'Bar Fight' always has someone hitting another over the head with a bottle."
Chaos continues to erupt across the bar. A barfight spanning the entire place. He makes an impressed growling sound at the Butler taking someone down with rapid strikes. Seeing the Half-orc standing near his fallen friend, Harkashan grabs hold of the counter with his two hands, back turned towards it, and secures his posture with his tail.
"It's time for you to Face the Music buddy." Harkashan decides that a pun is appropiate here, before rearing back with both of his legs and using his hold on the counter to twin-leg strike the Half-orc in the chest stumbling over his fallen comrade, straight towards the Harpsichord behind him!
It seems like the whole tavern has gone crazy... well, at least there's no blades or killing spells being used. Flashes of the action spin by: the off duty guardsmen wrestling with a group of adventurers, a wizard gallantly casting a spell that turns a barmaid invisible so she can flee, a pair of old, crusty sailors casually moving their mugs as another patron crashes through their table.
"Just like the old days!" they chorus, and knock their drinks back.
Meanwhile, the harpsichord player is continuing to play, perhaps with some notion that music will calm things down. No dice -- the half-orc staggers backwards, and slams into the harpsichord -- just in time for the player to grab the lid and close it on the guy's head.
Meanwhile, two more inebriated patrons slam down their drinks and advance on the heroes. One stumbles towards Rune, his expression changing from rage to something like a drunken leer, but it falls flat just like he does when he trips on the half-orc Rune tripped. The other swings a wild haymaker at Lucius but fails to connect with anything, and in fact spins him around in a full circle. Burp.
GAME: Rune rolls 1d20+dexterity+6-4-2: (13)+4+6+-4+-2: 17 GAME: Rune rolls 1d20+dexterity+6-4-2: (10)+4+6+-4+-2: 14 GAME: Rune rolls 1d3+1d6: (2)+(2): 4 GAME: Rune rolls 1d3+1d6: (2)+(4): 6
GAME: Sloan rolls weapon0+4: (13)+6+4: 23 GAME: Sloan rolls weapon0+4: (20)+6+4: 30 (THREAT) GAME: Sloan rolls weapon0+4: (1)+6+4: 11 (EPIC FAIL) GAME: Sloan rolls weapon0+4: (1)+6+4: 11 (EPIC FAIL) GAME: Sloan rolls Damage0: aliased to 1d6+4: (5)+4: 9 GAME: Sloan rolls Damage0: aliased to 1d6+4: (3)+4: 7
It doesn't take long for things to turn into a true brawl, and there is a sort of fierce joy written in Rune's expression. This is exactly the sort of adventure that makes for great stories. She has to duck back as the half-orc goes stumbling over the brawler she'd knocked down earlier.
The cloaked woman turns at the sound of footsteps approaching, turning just in time to meet the drunken leer from another of the patrons. Her mouth twists in disgust. Thankfully, he doesn't even manage to reach her as he goes tumbling to the ground.
The next instant, Rune is on the poor guy, slamming one fist after another into his drunken face. The first seems to ring his bell, "Hasn't anyone taught you not to leer like that at a lady?!" She demands, reinforcing the lesson by slamming the second fist into his jaw. In the aftermath, it appears that he won't be leering at anyone for the time being, as the poor fellow's eyes roll back into his head.
GAME: Lucius rolls melee+5: (6)+5+5: 16 GAME: Lucius rolls 1d4+Strength+1: (3)+3+1: 7 GAME: Telamon rolls 1d20: (15): 15
Wincing as he hears the Harpsicord smashing closed, Sloan Calls out to Hark as he mentions it still hurting. "Less Forehead Master Harkashan, use more of the crown of your head for a proper strike!"
As if to demonstrate, Sloan's linen gloved hand shoots out, smashing another incoming parton in the jaw with a wet popping sound, he snakes his hand around the back of the man's neck and pulls him forward as he drops his own head, the *THUD* being heard over the din Before Sloan is moving to his next target. Catching Rune from the corner of his eye, he calls out. "Good show Mistress Rune! A donnybrook is never proper excuse for Ill manners towards a lady."
Luke wasn't expecting another attack, but he leans back slightly and dodges the blow. While his target is unbalanced, he rushes forward, sensing a window of opportunity. Using the momentum, Luke slams his attacker onto a nearby table with a resounding thump. "Stay still," he snarls, raising a fist in warning.
GAME: Jacob rolls Melee+4: (4)+4+4: 12
GAME: Harkashan rolls Sense Motive+2: (18)+9+2: 29
"I doubt it!"
Jacob remarks to Rune as she calls her displeasure at her opponent. Though he hears the words 'just like the old days' and honestly? That's slightly disturbing, but these gents seem to enjoy brawling. "Crown is good!" Jacob remarks to Sloan.
Just in time for a big mean guy to step up.
Jacob throws a right hand towards his jaw, but he's weaved! He stumbles forward a little bit, as if he overextended himself and he retakes his balance. "Okay..." He shakes his head. "Back to it."
"You seem to be having fun." Harkashan remarks to Rune with a subtle indication of a smile on his face. "It's nice to see a smile on your face again."
He then ducks as a chair goes flying through the tavern, and he gets back up, only to hear sloan shout something about using his crown.
"My forehead?" He could very well do that, he has the horns for it. But at the same time, he rather not risk what is hanging between those horns right now! "No, that wasn't me." He then adds, "These men walk like newborn deer. They have yet to land a hit..." He stumbles away from the counter and gets out of the way just in time for a 'ghost' to punch at him - with the Sith-Makar carefully planning his movement, adjusting his position to move aside and get the patron to instead punch one of the others coming for him.
GAME: Telamon rolls 1d20+3: (14)+3: 17 GAME: Telamon rolls 1d3+3: (2)+3: 5 GAME: Telamon rolls 1d20+3: (2)+3: 5 GAME: Telamon rolls 1d20+3: (14)+3: 17
The brawl continues in high fever. The wizard you saw turning barmaids invisible casts something else, and simply climbs up the tavern wall nearly to the ceiling where he perches, his wild dark hair haloing his face as he mouths the words, "Great Scott!" Clearly he's NOT interested in a fight.
Two other half-orcs appear to be in a headbutting competition, and it's hard to tell who's winning as they're BOTH swaying on their feet. There's definitely some blood on their foreheads as well.
Then Sloan finds himself sidestepping as a huge fist hisses past his head, coming face to face with a jotunn built like the proverbial brick outhouse. A veritable wall of beef, as the giantborn grins. "Fight me, little man. I know you can fight." The massive fellow even winks at Rune!
Which might be charming except the half-orc Rune tripped has finally gotten himself disentangled, swinging a wild blow at Rune that doesn't come near him. Meanwhile, one of the adventurers starts for Harkashan, telegraphs his blow a little too much, and when Hark sidesteps, accidentally punches his teammate. "OW! You idiot!"
GAME: Rune rolls 1d20+dexterity+6: (14)+4+6: 24 GAME: Rune rolls 1d4+1d6: (1)+(1): 2
GAME: Sloan rolls weapon0+4: (6)+6+4: 16 GAME: Telamon rolls 1d20+6: (3)+6: 9 GAME: Sloan rolls weapon0+4: (19)+6+4: 29 GAME: Sloan rolls damage0: aliased to 1d6+4: (6)+4: 10 GAME: Sloan rolls damage0: aliased to 1d6+4: (2)+4: 6
Rising up from her last target, Rune rubs a hand across her knuckles. There is a bit of redness across the digits, where it's obvious that she doesn't engage in fisticuffs all that often. "We'll just have to call that lesson number one." She replies to Jacob. Sloan's call of praise has her expression shifting into another of those fierce grins. "Not so bad, yourself! You'll have to show me some of your tricks sometime." She's clearly impressed.
Of course, when Harkashan points out her enjoyment, Rune is momentarily distracted, her expression faltering just briefly. That, of course, is when the massive Jotunn catches her attention and that wink causes a brief flash of color across her cheeks. This is not the time to flirt with dead guys!
A hand comes flailing her way by means of distraction. It's not too hard to step out of the way, thankfully. She furrows her brows at the remaining brawler who she had previously kicked in the shin. "You don't really learn your lesson, do you?" Reaching for one of the nearby abandoned tankards, she offers, "I think you need to lay off this fight and get yourself another drink. Here!" And proceeds to swing the tankard at his face. It doesn't quite hit as hard as one might expect, but does proceed to spill quite a lot of the beverage down the half-orc's front.
GAME: Sloan rolls knowledge/local: (11)+2: 13
GAME: Lucius rolls melee+5: (16)+5+5: 26 GAME: Lucius rolls 1d3+Strength+1: (2)+3+1: 6
As the Jotunn approaches Sloan, the Butler looks waaaay up at the big man and clears his throat. Rolling his shoulders, Sloan lets the ghost of a smile cross his lips before composure returns and he stands toe to toe with the half giant. "Right. I shall endeavor to be a gentleman about this Sir. It is nothing personal."
One wouldn't really call Sloan a Martial Artist. He had no formal martial training. In fact most of his training had come from doing just what he was doing now. Faking a left, the much...much smaller Aesir pivots and launches himself upwards driving a linen gloved right hand directly into the Giant born's ear. Grabbing on with his left hand for a moment of gravity defiance, he drives a knee into the big guy's solar plexus and uses it to push himself clear of the giant born, landing on his feet once more, squared up on his opponent.
"I seem to remember that the Owner of this tavern may have had a pet armadillo at one point that he considered to be a good luck charm!"
GAME: Jacob rolls Melee+6: (11)+4+6: 21 GAME: Jacob rolls 1d3+Strength: (3)+2: 5
The man on the table seems to be behaving, so Lucius turns his attention elsewhere. Shoving another drunk patron out of the way, he makes a beeline for the giantborn fighting Sloan. Notwithstanding the size difference, the Butler is more than holding his own, but Lucius anyway arrives in time to drive another fist into the giantborn's midsection. "The bigger they are ..." he mutters, as the target collapses sideways onto the tavern floor.
GAME: Harkashan rolls 1d20+wishit+6: aliased to 1d20+bab+wisdom+6: (15)+2+3+6: 26
So the first blow missed!
Hilariously.
The drunken brawler in front of Jacob laughs in his face and starts to mock him. That is, until the anger of the Phurai Dae flows through his being. "Fuck you." and he swings his leg forward to smash him in the groin. He wasn't expecting the blow even coming, so he just holds his family jewels and doesn't quite fall over, but he is hunched over in pain.
Meanwhile, Jacob leans back against the bar. "At this point, I'm thinking I need a drink." He turns his head towards Rune. "Is hitting low rule number two?" He questions with a grin on his face. A laugh stating to echo from the fellow.
"Ah, I missed this."
Harkashan spots that flicker of her expression, followed by that brief flash of color. A slight raise of his brow at that last part, before he has to shift about again to get out of the way of another attack.
He stumbles back a bit, only to grab the guy by the back of his pants and the neck of his scruff. It looks to be a Dwarf of sorts. "I believe 'Dwarftossing' is permitted during barfights, correct?" He inquires with Rune as he chucks the bearded menace out of the nearby window, and then watches as the biggest guy in the room finally goes down.
"Well done." He's having to rely on more 'alternative tactics' since in truth, his punches don't carry that much weight. But he's got a lot of leverage to help him out during this particular kind of bar brawl.
"You've missed this? Is this kind of thing common where you come from, Jacob?" Harkashan inquires.
GAME: Telamon rolls 1d5: (1): 1 GAME: Telamon rolls 1d5: (4): 4 GAME: Telamon rolls 1d20+2: (4)+2: 6 GAME: Telamon rolls 1d20+2: (6)+2: 8
More and more patrons are unconscious now, most with contusions gained fighting one another or the party. Indeed, one could believe this was really happening, and not some manifestation from the past. The sound of the dwarf crashing through the window is tangible enough, but looking outside only shows murky shadows. But audible, even with the fighting, is the tromp of feet and disciplined shouts from outside.
The two headbutting half-orcs have collapsed side by side, snoring loudly. The one who was doused by Rune flails at her uselessly, gagging as the ale not only soaks his tunic but half-drowns him. A pair of younger bravos try their hand at swinging at Jacob and Harkashan with bar stools, only to miss so badly one drops his stool outright.
The wizard clinging to the wall is trying to work his way around to the entrance, but he -clearly- does not want to draw a flying fist. So he just offers a small embarrassed smile, and waves, hanging out of arm's reach.
GAME: Rune rolls intimidate+6: (17)+2+6: 25
"Fuck the rules." Rune replies playfully, offering another grin in Jacob's direction. "It's more fun without them." She replies with a laugh, one that is this time extended to Harkashan as she offers him a nod in the affirmative. "Go for it, big guy." Though, there is a slight wince as the poor fellow gets chucked out the window, but it's a wince of appreciation more than anything else.
Seeing that her 'friend' the half-orc is still trying to flail in her direction, Rune just gives an almost indulgent sigh. She walks towards him and bends down, pouring out the last of the ale right over the poor brawler's crotch. "Ooops." She coyly murmurs. "You know, you wouldn't want everyone here thinking you piss yourself when it comes to a fight. I'd sneak out the back, if I were you." She hands him the empty mug. "Good luck." And she neatly pats the man on the forehead before moving to join Jacob near the bar to appreciate the revelries.
GAME: Sloan rolls Intimidate+6: (16)+6+6: 28
Seeing that things are starting to wind down, and realizing that they had actually come here to do a job, Sloan clears his throat and looks towards Rune. "I apologize in advance for this Mistress Rune, I fear my language may become somewhat...Bawdy for a moment."
Turning to the Tavern in general Sloan raises his voice to a booming shout, all pretense of propriety and refinement gone, replaced with a very street level of alexandrian parlance. "Alright you sons of whores! That is enough! Youse all got homes to go to! and if you don't, I don't give a rat's testicle! Any man left conscious and in this Bar by the time I takes me gloves off is due a right shit kicking, Am I understood!?" With that, the Dak haired butler raises a hand above his head and begins peeling a linen glove off
GAME: Lucius rolls Strength: (20)+3: 23
GAME: Jacob rolls Melee+4: (11)+4+4: 19 GAME: Jacob rolls 1d3+Strength: (3)+2: 5
GAME: Harkashan rolls Intimidate+6: (5)+3+6: 14 GAME: Harkashan rolls Intimidate+6: (16)+3+6: 25
Luke scans the tavern and notes with some relief that few, if any, of the remaining brawlers appear to be coming after the adventurers. As Sloan's voice thunders through the room, he leaps onto the bar countertop, grabbing the hanging yellow horn with both hands. Using all his strength, he slams the thick end of the horn onto the bar. There is a terrible CRACK and the bar beneath his feet instantly shatters on impact. A very surprised Luke jumps away, and upon landing safely, inspects the horn, finding it entirely unscathed. "Gods, what's this thing made of?" he wonders aloud, shaking his head in disbelief.
"In the Great Plains, my people are quick to laugh and quick to anger. The teachings of Serriel-"
Jacob suddenly steps forward and swings a metal-covered foot high in the air, cracking his opponent on the ear and knocking him out cold. "Have helped me temper that rate, but sometimes? It feels really good to let it out." He smirks at Harkashan before his gaze drifts to Rune as he draws near, giving her a winning smile. "So, how was your brawl?" He leans against the bar just in time for it to /crack/ as a result of Luke smashing the horn into it.
"Uhhh..." Jacob points at the horn. "I'm thinking that horn has something else about it. Made of a different metal?"
He also straight up whistles at Sloan's threat. "Better run, lads."
"Aye, fuck the rules, as you say." Harkashan answers as he steps up to the bar and moves with Sloan as he starts to address the crew in the bar. He's honestly making one hell of a show out of it too. Mentally, the Sith-makar is taking notes. He never understood that taking /off clothing/ could be used as a show of threat by softskins.
He always considered they needed /more/ armor to be more intimidating.
He winces at the sound of the horn coming down on the bar. He really doesn't want to pay for that. But it's too large for him to go and try and fix with magic. So instead...
Instead, Harkashan decides to aid Sloan, the Sith'makar punches one fist into his open clawed hand, staring at the crowd that has formed, and takes a moment to take in a deep breath. His tail shifts closer to him - and he almost does one of those wiggles with his ass that cats do when they're about to pounce on someone...
Before he lets out this heavy loud bellowing /ROAR/. There are no words. Just this fierce demanding cry of anger that supports Sloan's suggestion that the beatings are about to continue unless morale improves.
Spittle goes flying.
The barkeep who's been hiding behind the bar winces at Lucius. "Ah... laddie, that's a dragon's horn. You're not gonna break it that way." He looks at his splintered bar. "Oh well, I can replace it..."
The few conscious tavern drunks look at Sloan, then at Harkashan as he roars at them, and wisely sit down. Well, that's better than swinging bar stools and fists. Indeed, the tavern looks like a war zone.
It's at this juncture that the doors to the tavern burst open and the town watch come in. "Hold it! HOLD IT! Nobody move!" Mancatchers and clubs are at the ready, as the lieutenant in charge of the watch shakes his head. "Oh brother. You are ALL coming down to the watch post until we can get this sorted out."
And as the guard step forward, there's another lurch and a 'popping' sensation. It feels like a cramp that's suddenly loosened, or a tensed muscle finally relaxing, an awareness that everything is... well, not perfect, but at least it's all running in its usual courses again. Looking around, there's no one in the tavern. The horn is gone, the bar is intact, the chairs and tables are still in their positions, even the window Harkashan threw the dwarf out of is in one piece.
Lying on the bar is a small slip of paper -- a bar tab. The bill is illegible, but at the bottom it states in bold letters, 'PAID IN FULL.'
"Good. Though, I admit it's been a long time." Rune returns the smile in Jacob's direction, but she does seem to still be rubbing a bit of redness across her knuckles. Nothing that looks like remotely permanent damage.
The sudden crack of the table, though, has her jumping up, turning around to look at the damage and muttering a curse in Sildanyari. "Something harder than the heads of most of the brawlers here, that's for sure." She comments in regards to the horn, her eyes a bit wide at the sight. "Strength of an ox, there, my friend." She offers Luke the complement.
At the suggestion that Sloan is about to get bawdy, though, there is a lift of the eyebrows and a look of interest rather than one of disgust. She gives a motion of the hand and then listens with rapt amusement. There are times that a person is very glad that an ally is on their side. When Harkashan joins the fray, she murmurs, "Glad I'm not in the splatter zone of that one." She does however, show a wince at the sound. Her ears are a fair bit more sensitive than some.
The arrival of the watch have her raising her hands in some manner of attempt at making the peace, but before she can say a word, that lurching sensation pulls at her gut and the next moment she lets out a breath. "Well, that was unpleasant."
Harkashan jolts his head back a bit as the city watch comes in. He doesn't know the history of this place well enough to recognize faces, let alone checking things like how old their clothing is. So when they step in at first, he lifts his hands and then points at the half-orc in the harpsichord. "He started it."
And then.... LURCH.
There's that sudden pull, and he could have sworn he heard the sound of a coin spinning; and the moment it's gone, there's paper instead. He leers at the bill, indicating it's paid in full, and then looks to Rune.
"You can't say that was unpleasant with that smile on your face." He points out with a wink... which means his nictating membrane closes and opens for a moment.
He then turns around to see if that dragon horn is still there, and if the bar is still broken.
"Shall we go and report back?"
Taking a moment to steady himself, Sloan looks around the tavern once more. Lowering his hand and tugging his glove back into place, the Aesir man straightens his clothing and offers the others a polite nod. Moving to find a reflective surface, the butler checks to ensure his hair is in proper place and that his appearance is acceptable before looking to the others in the tavern. "Master Harkashan, Mistress Rune, a please to have made your acquaintance again." Noting the redness on Rune;s hands, he adds. "If you were to come by the Shining Chalice tomorrow, I have an ointment that will assist with the swelling." Looking to Luke and Jacob, he adds. "It has been my pleasure to have made your aquaintance as well gentlemen. But if you would all kindly excuse me, I needs be off. I have need to procure a delivery of Rocky Mountain oysters before morning fast is broken. Good evening to you all."
With that, Sloan once more the gentleman's gentleman turns and heads for the door.
Luke stares at his hands where the horn vanished. "Thank you, Rune, but I somehow don't think it was all me," he laughs. "Did someone say it was a dragon's horn? I didn't know it would have that property. How interesting." He dusts off his hands and approaches the bar to look over the tab. "I think that means we won, right? Let's go outside and tell Slab the good news." He waves good evening to Sloan as the butler departs.