quenched: (hand on face)
Dammon ([personal profile] quenched) wrote in [community profile] ironhands2026-03-25 10:03 am

Bar Brawl (OTA)

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.
hellrider: (profile red)

Re: Fredrick Gorn | ota

[personal profile] hellrider 2026-03-27 02:26 pm (UTC)(link)
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.
hellstoymaker: (Default)

Re: Fredrick Gorn | ota

[personal profile] hellstoymaker 2026-03-28 03:26 pm (UTC)(link)

Freddie growls as he tries to use his electric glove on the dragonborn in front of him. "Back in town less than a day and clearing Zhent's out of my shop and then dragging me into a bar fight," he laughs, "it's like you knew I was starting to get bored and needed a slight shake up." Zevlor was good at that, seeming to know when his friend needed to get out of his own head. And since Sols death 10 years ago, Freddie had been deeply stuck in his own head. Grief did that to you really.

"Don't know if we can ever come back to this bar again though."

hellrider: (serious)

[personal profile] hellrider 2026-04-06 02:03 pm (UTC)(link)
"We're too young to be retired, old friend," Zevlor laughs. "And I think we're the better choice for breaking this up than the bloody Flaming Fists. Ulder does his best, but their caliber has gone downhill of late."

Which is Gortash's fault to a large degree, but not entirely. Patriars have had too much control of this city for decades, and while there's strength in preoccupation with commerce, there's a point where it turns into corruption and dissipation, as well.

"That's all right, you're the only drinking companion I'll ever need," he adds, and then nabs a half-orc in a headlock with a growl of "I said stay down mragreshem!" It appears to be his ambition to bodily wrestle this mountain of green muscle to the floor, which...honestly, he can probably do that.
Edited 2026-04-06 14:03 (UTC)