Ozzy groans, hefting the sack from the counter and tossing it over his shoulder. " Fine, ...morning then." he says, turning away from the shop to seek out a hot bath and a cold beer. He could do his shopping tomorrow, it would give him time to daydream about the riches he would recover from Rappan Athuk. Then he could come back, buy out the shop and have it open 24/7! Such a 'convenient' store might set new trends in the consumers market!

"How many unmuzzled toad-suckin' guards do ye think this city has ?"  Aarnr asks Colwyn speculatively, with the air of a man considering sacking the place.

Ozzy and Eilieen exit the apothecary's shop, and head for the Pig and Whistle to rejoin their travelling companions.

Said companions, along with their new friend, are currently eating, drinking, and generally making merry.  Colwyn laughs at Aarnr's question, "It's bein' a fair sized town, smack dab on a main road where it can be taxin' merchants at the gate, meanin' as 'ow it's bein' a fair sized rich town.  So I'd be guessin' as 'ow it's 'avin' as many bloody guards as it's needin'.  An' then some more, jus' fer the sake of it.  So 'un'reds, most likely."

And at that moment comes a deep, throaty snarl from under one of the nearby tables, like the growl of some savage beast...

Out on the market square a drunk staggers in front of Ozzy and Eilieen, and stops remarkably quickly for a man in his cups.  His swaying gait also disappears, even as a dagger appears in his hand.  Three more men appear from the shadows of the nearby empty stalls, and the first one says, in a voice filled with false camaraderie, "Hello, Sunshine.  What's in the bag?  It looks heavy... perhaps you'd like me and my mates to lighten your burden?"

Arkan couldn't help but laugh at Arnar's question and nodded at Colwyn's reply. "Indeed, Bard's Gate is the largest city in these part. It is why I made my way here in the first place, I thought if anyone knew more about the dungeon or intended to make their way down there, they would be found here. Lo and behold, I met all of you."

As he raised his cup to his lips to take another sip, Arkan heard a sudden snarl, like that of a beast! It seemed to come from under one of the nearby tables..."What in the hells was that? Don't tell me it's that dragon's mate come to take revenge on good Feargus here?" he exclaimed, his eyes darting about trying to locate the source of said disturbance.

Ozzy stands for a moment, stupefied. His imaginings included poisonous Wyverns, giant spiders, even bladder bursting orcs, but he had never once considered being mugged as a possible threat to his reality. Three against one half, the odds were not in his favor. He needed to rely on his talent if he were to walk away from this with purse and body intact. He starts with a little toe tap to set the beat, building into a backward shuffle stomp as he begins belting out the bluesy backbeats...

I'm gonna tell you a story
 I'm gonna tell you about my town
 I'm gonna tell you a big fat story, baby
 Aw, it's all about my town

 Yeah, down by the river
 Down by the banks of the river Chionthar
 (Aw, that's what's happenin' baby)
 That's where you'll find me
 Along with lovers, muggers, and thieves
 (Aw, but they're cool people)

 Well I love that dirty water
 Oh, Baldurs, you're my home
 (Oh, you're the number one place)

 Frustrated women (I mean they're frustrated)
 Have to be in by twelve o'clock (Oh, that's a shame)
 But I'm wishin' and a-hopin', oh
 That just once those doors weren't locked
 (I like to save time for my baby to walk around)

 Well I love that dirty water
 Oh, Baldur, you're my home (Oh, yeah)

 Because I love that dirty water
 Oh, oh, Baldur, you're my home (Oh, yeah)

 Well, I love that dirty water (I love it, baby)
 I love that dirty water (I love Bawl-durs)
 I love that dirty water (Have you heard about the Strangler?)
 I love that dirty water (I'm the man, I'm the man)
 I love that dirty water (Ow!)
 I love that dirty water (Come on, come on)

He hopes to sing, dance and back himself far enough away to reach a main road where he can call for the city watch.

Going to FASCINATE them with a little song. Will Save DC:17. 90' range.
02:58, Mon 08 Dec 2014: Oswald Osbourne rolled 17 using 1d20+8 ((9)). Perform check to set DC will save.
This message was last edited by the player at 11:06, Mon 08 Dec 2014.

Stunned by the massive amount of coin in the bag, Eilieen silently trails after Oswald.  Two thousand...by the goddess.  One could set oneself up for a long, long time with that kind of gold.  Dresses, a home, mirrors...shaking her head, she shifts her thoughts more toward the idea of opening some kind of small temple where one could bring the poor in for healing.

It wouldn't be easy - the initial outlay of coin would cover expenses, but she'd be dependant on people's donations.  Perhaps speaking with a lord of the city...

Reality crashes back in.

With the arrival of four men bent on perfidy, Eilieen's eyes go flat.  "Disgusting," she murmurs, readying her spear and preparing a prayer.  But Oswald steps in, and Eilieen pauses.  Obviously the bard has a plan of his own; she'll back his play and see how it goes.

OOC - Eilieen will hold her action for the moment.  If it looks like Oswald's idea is working, she'll follow along with him.  If the other people try anything, she'll start with the Summoning Of Doggie.
This message was last edited by the player at 13:19, Mon 08 Dec 2014.

"Un'dreds, eh ?" the priest considers Colwyn's response in a seriously disconcerting manner.  "Is that a fobbin' lot ?"

But thoughts of sacking the city are banished by the wonderful howl from beneath the tables.  "A wolf ?" Aarnr suggests in some puzzlement.  Would such a beast roaming the city have lost its soul ?  Should he pat it or have at it with his blade ?  And what were Eilieen's froggin' rules of war again ?!!  Give someone else a go ?  No, that didn't sound right ...

The awful growling sound continues, something dangerous and unspeakably foul is doubtless lurking beneath the table.  Fergus moves into position, and nods two Colwyn, who takes up a place opposite him.

"Ready?" Fergus asks, darting a glance at Aarnr, as the two men each grasp an edge of the table...

The bandit tilts his head to one side, "What do you... think... you're... oh.  That's amazing!"  His eyes take on a certain intense look, as he stares at Ozzy.  From behind the bard, one of the others says, "Never mind him, what are you doing, Jack?"  Another mutters, "Magic!", and there is a certain amount of shuffling of feet, which sounds to be moving in a sort of "slightly further away" direction...

Aarnr follows Fergus' lead and gets a good firm grip on the table's edge, grinning broadly in the face of what sounds to be quite awful peril.  "We goin' for height or distance ?" the priest asks, getting a feel for the weight of the table.

Could it be ... the nest of the terrible pheasant ?

Arkan stood to the side, both hands inside his cloak as he watched the others attempt to move the table out of the way. What could be underneath? A monster, an animal, a horrifying amalgamation of the two?

Colwyn decides that, with Aarnr and Fergus lending their mighty thews to the task, then his own effort would simply go unnoticed.  Instead he steps back and draws his blade, ready to pierce the heart of whatever beast is under the table (assuming it has a heart).

With a heave, the table is cast aside, bringing cries of dismay from other clients in the common room.  Underneath it lurks... Bilfro.  Fast asleep and snoring thunderously.

A voice comes from somewhere behind Aarnr, loud and angry sounding, "Oi!  Yer shower of bloody wazzocks! Yer've spilled me bleedin' pint, an' I'll not stand fer it, thou knows!"

"Uh oh!  That's not soundin' good." Colwyn mutters, and steps back a little further to avoid getting blood on him...

A figure pushes through the crowd of onlookers.  A huge man, tall and broad, with an enraged expression on his red face (at least the part that shows past his extensive facial hair).  Possibly human, but with at least a suggestion of troll or giant blood somewhere in his ancestry.

He carries a table leg in his massive right hand

A broad smile, approximating something of divine rapture, stretches across Aarnr's visage , replacing the look of disappointment that greeted the discovery of Bilfro¹.  While the priest could never be considered handsome by any accepted standard, that smile certainly does not improve matters, and indeed might turn a strong stomach.

"At froggin' last !  A proper welcome !  My thanks, thou pukin' knotty-pated skains-mate !  Thou have lost thy froggin ale ?  Here thou are, thou rank onion-eyed lout - with Bowbe's compliments !!"

Still grinning horribly, Aarnr grabs a cup from the hand of the nearest drinker and hurls the contents into the trollkin's face².


¹ One assumes the mad wizard is used that that, and most likely considers the worlds to be populated by the sour-faced
² Pretty sure that's exactly what Eilieen would have wanted him to do

From the counter comes a despairing wail, "No crossbows!  No crossbows!" before the owner of the tavern ducks out of sight.

The thrown ale hurtles through the air, to splash full in the face of the giant of a man approaching the group.  Unaccountably, it seems only to worsen his demeanor.  Meanwhile, the supplier of the impromptu missile swings a fist at Aarnr's ear, only to have its trajectory blocked by a large hand, which wraps it in a bone crushing grip as Fergus frowns at him...

Around them, the staff of the establishment scream, and run for cover...

OOC: Initiative rolls for those who want to take part in the brawl, please, and attack/possible damage rolls if you want to make them.  Don't worry about targets, given the way these things tend to propagate, there should be plenty to go around by the time you're looking for one.

Anybody who doesn't want to be exchanging blows with a number of pugnacious drunks had best be looking for a hiding place, or an exit.

Arkan peered suspiciously at the sleeping and snoring...man? It looked like a human underneath the beard, the robes and the pointy hat but Arkan was not sure. Arnar appeared to know him however (though he did not seem happy to see him), as did the others so Arkan began to relax...

Until the brawl erupted! Shaking his head with a wry smile, Arkan looked for the nearest drunk buffoon about to assault his new companions, and lashed out with a low kick aimed at the lout's knee.

"Cease thy aggression knave, or I shall be forced to inform the authorities!" Arkan shouted in a most authoritative yet cultured tone.

---

Initiative: 08; Unarmed Attack: 06; Damage (if applicable): 04
This message was last edited by the player at 19:09, Sun 14 Dec 2014.

Erista sighs and sinks a little deeper into the corner.

"Thou do an' I'll gut thee, thou pribblin', plume-plucked pig-nut !"  the priest warns the authoritative Arkan as he ducks under a punch.

Hoping their new friend comes to his senses about involving the guards in the evening's entertainment, Aarnr lashes out with his fists, pummeling whatever lout drifts his way in the ebb and flow of the brawl.

"Which of ye reeky whoresons and varlots is froggin' brave enough to fight me ?!!" he demands happily.

" Never mind him, what are you doing, Jack?"  Another mutters, "Magic!"

Ozzy takes it as another request, so he changes tone and tempo into another song waving for Eileen to follow,

Summer turns me upside down, summer
 Summer, summer, it's like a merry-go-round
 I see you under the midnight, all shackles and bows
 High shoes with the cleats a-clickin', a temperamental glow

 How far will you take it? Well, no one knows
 Don't let me go, I got a hold on you tonight

 Oh, oh, it's magic when I'm with you
 Oh, oh, it's magic, you know it's true
 Got a hold on you...

GUARD!!

Once he reaches the main road he will turn away and run 'off stage' toward the Inn they had dropped Aarnr off at.
He wouldn't be able to run very fast, but at least now he had a head start.
This message was last edited by the player at 09:52, Tue 16 Dec 2014.

With some amusement at the situation - and less concern, after all she has helped face down a wyvvarish - Eilieen continues to follow Oswald's lead, pacing after him, spear at the read.  Despite the weapon, she tries hard to remain unthreatening.  It's really not difficult.

Such interesting music.  "I would give that song something in the eighties.  Out of a hundred," she murmurs, fluffing up her hair with her free hand.

Then, unexpectedly, the song turns into a retreat.  Eilieen freezes for an instant, then offers the men a sickly smile.  "Pardon me," she squeaks before turning and sprinting in pursuit of the bard.

OOC - All of this assumes it's possible to retreat.  :)

As Ozzy and Eilieen start to retreat, the brigand, Jack, lets them pass without hindrance, then moves to block his compatriots.  There is a brief scuffle, and a cry of pain.  One of the remaining thugs is down, unconscious on the cobblestones, but Jack is also out of the fight, sitting on the ground, clutching his knee.  Leaving two more of the would-be thieves to pursue Eilieen and Ozzy...

At the Pig and Whistle, Bilfro continues to snore as Fergus yanks at the attacker's arm and swings him face first into a pillar, where he collapses in a heap.

Colwyn decides that this might be more enjoyable than he had first thought, and aims a kick at one of the strangers who seems to be circling around behind Aarnr.  The kick misses, and is followed by a gurgling scream of pain as the man's fist slams into the rogue's nose.

Erista decides that discretion is the only part of valour, and finds herself a good place to hide (albeit one with a decent view of the proceedings).

Meanwhile Aarnr ducks aside as his giant assailant swings the makeshift cudgel at him, then drives his own fist into the attacker's gut, knocking the breath out of him.  The man doubles over, momentarily, before straightening up, tossing the weapon aside, and reaches for the barbarian priest with both hands.

The drunken buffoon seems more sprightly than he had first appeared.  He rolls jumps over Arkan's kick, then swings both fists in a double-handed blow which strikes Arkan in the side of the head, and sets his ears ringing.

An interested observer (such as Erista) might notice at about this time that the thug who had started the fight by choosing to threaten Aarnr appears to have a surprising number of friends, considering his obvious hygiene problems.

The same observer might also notice that this isn't the only fight breaking out, as several distinct groups choose to take advantage of the situation to settle their own disputes...

OOC:

Combatant                Init
Fergus Andarson           17
Colwyn Akbar              15
Thugs                     10   AC=10
Erista                     9
Aarnr Foultongue           9
Arkan                      8
Bilfro Gabbins             -
Eilieen                    -
Oswald Osbourne            -

Characters' Apparent Health
Aarnr Foultongue: Good
Arkan:            Good
Bilfro Gabbins:   Good
Colwyn Akbar:     Good
Eilieen:          Good
Erista:           Good
Fergus Andarson:  Hurt
Oswald Osbourne:  Good

Arkan staggered as stars exploded behind his eyes. He blinked hard and shook his head, hoping his body could recall the unarmed combat lessons drilled into him years ago by master Rakeesh. Trying to focus on his opponent through the haze brought about by the double handed blow to his head, he lashed out with a a flurry of hard and straight punches at where he thought his foe was. "Curse ye lout, stand still and face me like a man!"

---

Attack:07, Damage (if applicable):06

woohoo :)
This message was last edited by the player at 08:13, Sat 20 Dec 2014.

Ozzy tries to remember to breathe properly as his little legs move as fast as he can manage. " RUN!" he yelps when he catches sight of the other two muggers giving chase. He wasn't sure how far he could get with his burden of wealth, he could only pray he would make it into earshot of Aarnr. How far could the Inn be? Where were the city guards? Never a cop around when you need one. Left foot, right foot, left foot, right foot, keep running. Great way to stay in shape. Run, run, run.

"Thou want to dance, thou cockered, malmsey-nosed dewberry ?!!"  Aarnr bellows as the fellow comes at him, beckoning him hither as he swings a roundhouse punch in the lout's direction, delighting in the sudden chaos.

Indeed, it's very decent of the locals to put on a welcome like this and the priest doesn't intend to disappoint them.  His only regret is that Ozzie and Eilieen are missing out on the traditional greetings and will be sorry they missed it.

With fresh blood pouring down his face, and filling his mouth with the taste of copper, Colwyn spits before throwing himself at his assailant and returning the favour by punching the ruffian soundly...

"Oh!  Yer wasn't likin' that, was yer?  Come on then!  Come 'n' 'as a go, if'n yer thinkin' yer's 'ard enough!"

Fergus grins happily, really getting into the spirit of things now.  He spots another possible target, and charges at him, slamming his considerable muscle mass into the hapless foe and continuing to push as hard as he can.  He ignores the blows which rain down on him from his opponent's allies...

Fergus rams into his target, lifting the smaller man off his feet, and carrying him backwards.  Both men crash through a window, and fall into the market square beyond in a shower of cheap glass and splintered wood.  They continue their brawl, rolling in the dirt under the disapproving gaze of the oxen.

Ozzy and Eilieen, running desperately between the market stalls, suddenly see glass and wood explode from a building about forty feet away, and immediately have a rough idea where Aarnr probably is...

Behind them, the two brigands are almost upon them.

Filled with rage, Colwyn pushes his fist into the face of his opponent, as hard as he can.  The man staggers back, one eye closed, then tries to kick the rogue in the jewels, only to miss as Colwyn, no stranger to fighting dirty, anticipates the manoeuver and steps back, taunting him.

Aarnr's foe swings wildly, but the barbarian priest barely even feels the impact as the fist strikes him in the chest .  Instead he responds with a roundhouse blow which lifts his burly assailant off his feet and sends him smashing through a table.  The man lays groaning on the floor, in a puddle of spilled ale, blood and vomit (though, in all fairness, the latter was probably there before the fight started).

Meanwhile Arkan and his foe trade ineffective attacks, neither man able to land a telling blow.  Then the tide of battle turns, as Arkan twists aside to avoid a punch, and his opponent punches a stout wooden pillar instead.  He screeches in pain as he leaves a smear of blood on the grafitti-carved oak, then clutches at his bloodied fist...

And through it all, Bilfro continues to snore, oblivious to the chaos around him, while Erista watches it all, wide-eyed.  Unaccountably, an idea suddenly comes into her head for a recipe involving frying corn kernels in oil...

OOC: Are we having fun yet?

Combatant                Init
Fergus Andarson           17
Colwyn Akbar              15
Thugs                     10   AC=10
Erista                     9
Aarnr Foultongue           9
Arkan                      8
Bilfro Gabbins             -
Eilieen                    -
Oswald Osbourne            -

Characters' Apparent Health
Aarnr Foultongue: Good
Arkan:            Good
Bilfro Gabbins:   Good
Colwyn Akbar:     Good
Eilieen:          Good
Erista:           Good
Fergus Andarson:  Hurt
Oswald Osbourne:  Good