Bar Brawl (OTA)

[quenched]

The Blushing Mermaid, down by the strand, is well known to be a little bit rougher than the Elfsong. One could say, bluntly, that it's a dive, except the proprietor, Captain Grisly, would then throw empty bottles at you until you run for cover because NO PUNS, get the fuck out of here!

Anyway, the liquor is good, never watered down, and the wine is usually too sweet and too strong, and if you thought you were going to eat with your intoxicants, you're out of luck. In short, it's a perfect place for after-work drinks for the middle and lower classes of the Gate, and adventurers looking for luck and/or trouble.

Tonight, there is trouble. Whether you started the fight or just walked in on it at the wrong moment, there are bottles and punches flying, and if you're not a brawler type, you might need to hide under a table. So. Duck and cover. Try conflict resolution. Sneak for the door. Or punch the crap out of someone. The world is thine oyster.

Comments

Dammon, ota

[quenched]

[He does not start fights, but he will damn well finish them, especially if his friends are involved.]

Loki, ota

[coldsong]

[May or may not have started this, but if he did, no one's blamed him yet. Please find him in a corner with a shit-eating grin on his face.]

[loosed]

Felassan cannot electrocute the entire tavern and walk out whistling over their bodies, because — in increasing order of importance — he's reformed, and afterwards he'd have to have an awkwardly-encoded conversation about The Incident With The Locals with Beleth and Solas over the innocent heads of their children, and, fine, they're real people whose lives have worth or whatever. Probably even the one who unexpectedly elbowed him in the jaw rearing back to hit someone else with their tankard.

He does think about it, though. For a second. Two seconds, maybe, before he settles for the marginally more polite option of flipping a heavy wooden table on its side, with a two-handed gesture, and with another pushing it screeching across the floor, sweeping the fallen clatter of its previous contents and a tangled mass of brawlers on ahead of it until it's all a little bit further away from him.

A little worse, too, for the added chaos. But that's fine. So long as it's worse over there instead of on top of him.

Between him and Loki's corner, a burly woman has someone in a headlock. Felassan doesn't immediately attempt to navigate around them. But his eyes cut that way, and he mouths, Proud of yourself? with full faith any God of Mischief worth the title can read lips.

(He would be in a better mood if he'd started it.)

Zevlor | ota

[hellrider]

[Trying to shield the dwarvish barmaid with his body. He would defend the bartender, too, except she is one of the main vectors of violence at this point. Encounter him yelling over everyone to CALM DOWN which probably is not having the desired effect.]

Fredrick Gorn | ota

[hellstoymaker]

[One drink..one that's what Zev said and this was not one drink. This was using his cane like a baseball bat and then some.]

Re: Fredrick Gorn | ota

[hellrider]

Zevlor has not drawn his sword. It's peace-tied still, because smiting people with divine energy in a bar fight is a bit of overkill. Lest anyone think he's a pushover, though, he does have a buckler strapped to his left arm and any punches that come in his direction land right on it with a dull clang of metal and a yell of pain from the idiot who's just broken his knuckles.

In the meantime, he's roughly back to back with Freddie, keeping track of his movements with a brush of tail to tail as they battle their way across the room. "Just like old times," he suggests, calling out over the noise of breaking glass.

This is not at all what he intended but if he's honest with himself, he's kind of having a great time.

Oyrm of the Air Ashari | ota

[halfling_dad]

[Oyrm is glad in this case that he is small because it makes ducking bottles much easier but he's really hoping the fight ends soon because one of his boyfriends has a hammer and really likes using it.]

[makingmyway]

Fortunately Orym's other boyfriend usually preferred to keep out of these kinds of fights if he could. Except it seems he wasn't able to this time, and Orym would find Dorian in the thick of it, squared up against a roughed up half-orc.

how is he alive and in Fearun? Who cares--

[littlemoonbigmoon]

Will only remembered passing, and then he remembered seeing Orym and telling him he couldn't join Will just yet. It hadn't been his time. Not yet.

Then he was there in Baldur's Gate...no where near Exandria.

He hadn't even originally been part of the bar fight, he had just been enjoying a drink while he tried to figure out what to do next. Thinking about finding a Grove to live with or something like that. And then someone bumped into him, someone spilled their drink down his back...and finally someone pulled him in to use him as a shield.

That was the last straw.

"Would you get the fuck-" He wheels around, swipes a leg under the stranger's legs...and sees a familiar small form dancing around ducking bottles and fists. His eyes light up but he tries to hide around a rather large green figure who...gives him a weird look. For a moment Will thinks it's vague recognition but then tosses that thought aside. He would remember seeing someone like that man. Instead his eyes move back to Orym, watching that familiar grace and at the moment wishing more than anything to fight along side his husband but not wanting to put the halfling into shock upon seeing a man who was supposed to be dead.

Bel | OTA

[lettersfrombel]

[The trouble with being a member of a distrusted race is that Bel is likely to be blamed for things even when he de-escalates. So he's inclined to slip under a table and wait things out, but he will pop out to give bystanders a chance to shelter, or rescue anyone who looks like they are the worse for wear.]

Some fight, huh?

[makingmyway]

[ Dorian is definitely one Bel has to rescue, despite holding his own. He winces as he wipes the blood from his nose, though he manages a laugh. ]

Yeah. You all right?

[lost_and_foundry]

Barcus is not sure how this evening went from calm to chaos so quickly with the mere introduction of some additional dear ones from Caldera. In the long term that could be problematic, but for now he's still thrilled to bits they're here.

Of course, they're a little too occupied with the fight for hugs and conversation just now, and he just happens to be hiding under a table to catch his breath when he spots Bel.

It's a testament to how much he's changed in the last year that he immediately lights up and reaches to drag him under the table with him. "Hello love!" Perky and pleased, in spite of a shower of breaking bottles. "Ashton and Dorian are here, did you see? I'll have to put on something extra for dinner..."

If they ever get out of here, that is. There's a pause and the sound of familiar yelling as a chair snaps into pieces.

"...I'm pretty sure I can guess who started this."

Ashton | OTA

[fundamentalchaos]

[ Did Ashton start the fight? Maybe, who's askin'? Even if he didn't he's bound to finish it. He's got his fuck off big hammer as well as his chain knuckle dusters decorating each finger. He's probably got a split lip and is absolutely loving every minute of it. ]

Re: Ashton | OTA

[halfling_dad]

Oyrm runs by ducking a bottle and at least three people trying to grab him. He sees Ashton and calls out. "Hey Ash, duck," knowing the barbarian will know what the smaller fighter is planning.

[lost_and_foundry]

Barcus is just passing by. He favors the Elfsong for after-work drinks, except when Laridda and the girls drag him to Sharess' Caress to be their designated sober friend (why him? he's still not sure). This is a rougher part of town, though not by much, and he's alert. He'd have to be sleepwalking not to notice the fighting sounds coming from within the bar, though, and for a second he's inclined to take and shake his head. Honestly, as if there's not enough trouble to go around without petty fist fights.

Except then it occurs to him exactly who would love a good petty fist fight and his heart leaps. What are the chances...?

A minute later he's dodging a chair thrown by a very drunk and excited dragonborn, and scrambling toward Ashton by darting under tables. What he wants to do is hug them tight and not let go, but the circumstances are not conducive to snuggles.

Instead, a sudden torrent of pebbles pelts one of the dwarves that were coming toward them. There's no doubt in Barcus' mind that Ashton could handle them, but he's not about to just sit back and wring his hands.

"Idri," he says warmly but with deep exasperation. "What the fuck?"

Re: Ashton | OTA

[lettersfrombel]

[Bel is fighting bare-handed for once; sure, he has his knives, one of which he's even wearing openly, but he's not going to draw steel until he thinks someone is trying to kill him. But he is circling around to get behind Ashton's opponents for a few key finger-jabs in the kidneys while his opponent is occupied by the guy with the large hammer.

[Look, someone turns their back on a drow, they are lucky if all they get are bruises and a concussion.]

Fancy seeing you here.

Dorian Storm | OTA

[makingmyway]

[ There is a moment, brief as it is, that Dorian wonders if breaking out his mandolin would help calm things. Music soothes the savage beast and whatnot.

Then a bottle gets a bit too close to his face, and while manages to dodge it he decides it's not worth the effort, and mostly just tries to stay out of the way of other people fighting. ]

8D

[fundamentalchaos]

Ashton had only meant to be as far as he was to grab them both drinks.

Honestly!

Of course that was thwarted when some drunk dwarf thought he had been standing over him for too long and seemed to have a problem with the idea that Ashton was 'hovering'. He wasn't...it was a bar. He was waiting for his drinks at the bar. But nope, instead the dwarf decided to pick a fight with a literal rock.

So that's why Ashton manages to stumble far enough over to set at the very least Dorian's drink down with a quick. "Just a sec, this fuck's got an issue." Before swinging back around just as in time to take a meaty fist to the stomach.

"Fucker-"

[bardbox]

You're not the only bard in the room, saer! And this other one seems to have the opposite of Dorian's idea. They're perched on a windowsill, half-crouched, but beating time with their heels on the nearest table, and it's the strangest thing, the way they find the rhythm of the battle and echo it in their playing. Smash, punch, thump, groan, they pick up the pace to match the beat of it, hitting harder notes when someone goes down.

It's hard to say whether this is having any impact on the fight or whether it's just them mirroring. They seem to be very much into this performance, though. Even if it's solely for their own entertainment.

Ilphyl, OTA

[spacetogrow]

[Look, you come in from Waterdeep, and jsut want a drink, and now you're in a barfight. Ilphyl's solution is to wildshape into a cat... and then take to the heights and swat at anyone who is getting too close.]

[Ilphyl tends to stick to the same wildshapes, and didn't bother to 'bring in' the magical tattoo on their arm, so you might be able to guess the black-and-white tomcat with the grey markings on one paw is the drow druid you know. Or just assume that the cat is too smart to not be a familiar or something.]

[coldsong]

As a druid, Ilphyl is probably well aware that gray foxes can climb, and are in some circles in fact known as tree foxes. For those who aren't aware, it's lesser-known animal facts day in the Blushing Mermaid, and a lean, furry form trots across one of the ceiling beams towards the cat casually. He offers a yip, bark! entirely appropriate to the form he's wearing, then sits and speaks in his usual humanoid vocal tones: "All right there, friend? There are advantages and disadvantages to being small and furry in a place like this."

Mirkian Fleet | ota

[rangerbirdboi]

[Mir stands out in a fight like this. A six foot arakocra with midnight black feathers and that's a bad thing since he is kind of wanted. But his contract had new information. So he here slashing out with his talons trying to clear his path to a door]

[quenched]

One of the larger tieflings in the room (surprisingly, there are a lot of them around the Gate, which might bode well for an aarakocra in a strange land--he's not going to be the only weird one around) moves suddenly to grab and pinch the shoulder of a large half-elf that seemed to be making a move with a dagger. Dammon's hands are powerful, and he knows enough about pressure points to drop the man without a sound.

Then he immediately looks apologetic. It's not as if the featherfolk can't protect themselves. But this one's alone. It wouldn't be right to let someone stab him in the back just because he's by himself. Dammon's been there.

"...hey. Um. The Gate's not always like this, I swear."

[bardbox]

Perhaps he might be in a position to help a bunny out? At some point, Havoc had tumbled off the table they were on, which resulted in them tripping up a half-orc, who then fell over onto another table, spilling plates and liquor everywhere. Much like a Rube Goldberg machine, this in turn really pissed off the dwarf and the genasi who were trying to have a conversation there--and now the harengon has three people several times their size looming over them while they kick at their ankles.

It's worth noting Havoc doesn't look scared, but they do seem to be bite-sized compared to most of the people around.

Havoc | ota

[bardbox]

Havoc would be standing on a table by this point in the evening whether there was a fight or not, so they have no real problem with this development. There's a bottle of Amnian dessert wine in one paw, and they're half-holding onto the wall of the booth they've been perched in, for balance, surveying the scene with candid enthusiasm while occasionally yelling at the people they're watching as if they're rooting for the winner of a sports match. "ooooOOOOHH UPPERCUT! That's gonna hurt in the morning. Get 'em!"

They're more than a little drunk, and they sway a little when they start giggling at someone's antics. Observers may note the poofy little tail behind them, twitching like a caterpillar that's being electrocuted. This is a good night for them! Unless someone hits them. Then it might be less good.