Hoskar downs a drink, adding sourly Last thing they fucked had five fingers. And a thumb. But their dads are too busy to oblige most nights.

And then the trouble started. As Amara fights, he finds himself Mano a Mano with a wiry, moustachioed man looking expert at the sucker punch. Quicker, lither, but less strong. Hosk takes several blows to his body, one nasty cut opening up his cheek, till at last a blow of his own hits home, a kick in a sensitive area knocking his opponent to the floor in a ball of misery. Taking advantage of this, he ducks past Amara's combat to kneel on Claw Skin-Sky's back to keep him down. Stay down unless you want more he hisses as his own blood drips onto his opponent's thinning hair.
This message was last edited by the player at 18:50, Sun 24 June 2018.

Ohanzee had been expecting his action to get the fight started so he was ready for a fight, but was expecting a fist to swing, not a suddenly raised knee. He makes a valiant attempt to twist and turn the knee aside with his own thigh, but is only partially successful and takes a glancing blow to the right side of his groin.

Still, this strike is enough to double him over and cause a rush of vomit into his mouth. It's not a great deal, just a mouthful which he duly releases into the copper pot that fate would have it is just below his hunched form.

Taking a moment to steady himself and catch his breath he clasps the pot and rises turning to face the warrior who has stepped past him expecting the knee to have put Ohanzee down more permanently.

"Oi! Hagran's pillow biter!" he says hoping this is enough to get the man's attention. It is "Should have stayed down shor..." he starts as he turns, but his words are cut short as the flow of vomit and spit from the pot hits him square in the face.

Blinded by the stinging acidic mix he bends forward to cough out the portion that landed in his mouth just as Ohanzee's foot reaches his happy sack! The strike causes the man's downward action to accelerate albeit briefly as this is halted by the now upward motion of the copper pot that Ohanzee had swung in a circle.

There is a nausiating thud and muffled crack as face meets pot and both come off the worse for it. Jobal Lanza's nose suddenly becomes somewhat squishy and as he falls now backwards a tooth flies from his mouth.

The Raven brave grins at his handywork dropping the pot next to the prone warrior and kneels to lift his purse. Taking a coin from it he stands and avoiding a chair leans over the bar looking down the other side "Sorry about your pot, his face though,he's paying" and slides the coin over the edge.

He then picks up Amara's bottle and takes a mouthful that he swills and spits to clear the taste before taking a proper drink and looking about at the fight.

Melock shakes his head and mutters to himself, "All I wanted was a quiet drink." Grinning, he puts his right hand into his pocket and slips on his knuckle dusters. Unfortunately the nearest guy to him is almost twice his size and charges at Melock before he is half way across the room, he knocks Melock off his feet and they both land on a table, but Melock manages to use the big oaf's size and momentum against him and tips them both on to the floor, where Melock ends up on top, he sits up and punches him in the face, breaking his jaw and cracking his head on the floor, knocking him out. Melock stands up and dust himself down and looks around, "Who's next?" When he see's the bottle in Ohanzee's hand, "Don't hog the drink, chuck it over here."

Temush makes some lightning feints and darts at an unimpressed Tobin who poleaxes the pygmy at the first opportunity with an overhand chair surreptitiously grabbed from behind his back

Inspired by the swaggering bravado of his companions, Grundar saunters towards a couple of the guards who'd been playing poker before rising to their feet as the Rangers blew through the saloon doors. Grabbing a fist of poker chips from the table before them, he throws them the nearest's face. Just like kicking sand in the eyes in a brawl on the Plains! Dubgal caught by surprise, instinctively raises his hands to his face, leaving Grundar free to follow with a left hook. The guard's head cracks back as he collapses against the bar with the sound of smashing bottles. Grabbing him by the collar, Grudar lifts the face of the dog to his to deliver the warning, only to discover there's no one home. Still, the others will pass on the message when he comes to.

Rubbing his knuckles, he turns and acknowledges the whoops of the Deadheads left guarding the door with a grin. It doesn't look as if the posse will be needed today after all. A warning shout from one of them just in time stops this complacency, Grundar sidesteping just in time as Dubgal's gaming companion rounds the table...

Turning to face him, he yells out to Melock, And when you're done, don't forget to sling it this way. Mine's gone and knocked his over!

Both Henal and Kobal are having a hard time of it, their opponents not giving an inch. Blows are traded, furniture broken and crockery smashed until at long last they stand victorious, back to back and with bloody knuckles.

Temush is picked up and dusted down, and there is a chink of fresh glasses being placed on the bar

"Thanks for that, they had that coming" says the barkeep, barely audible above the groans coming from the fallen thugs.

"Suppose you'll be taking their Zebras too?"

Temush checks over the Zebra riders to make sure they are not about to pop their clogs, and Muses 'Bad part of town to be left out for the count. How can we be sure the next creep who comes in the door won't slit their throats? No slight on your roof more than the rest' he shrugs an apology to the barman

"Yeah, make them walk, that fits" replies Henal still cleaning the blood off himself. "Just wish that I'd been able to fight one more my size to make it easier".

"No one will kill them" replies the Barkeep. "Lunars would be down on us like a bad rash. Best if youse lot left as quick as possible. What name do you go by? Folks will want to know who to thank?"

Banging his opponent's head on the floor hard enough to make sure he doesn't hear what with being too unconscious to be paying attention, Hoskar grates Rangers to friends. Fang Brothers to anyone else who comes calling.

Good booze, my friend. Appreciated.
This message was last edited by the player at 17:01, Mon 25 June 2018.

"No, no killing, just that gentle message."

"And damn right we're taking their mounts, I'm taking his" and he kicks the unconcious form between the legs for good measure and grins "cos he'll not be able to ride for a while!"

He looks at the barkeep "Which is his?"

"The angry looking one with the Blue handprint on it's flank."

"Aye, recently stolen off a caravan. Only the best stuff that falls off the back of mule in the Butchered Bison."

In reply to GM (msg # 152):

Pass me a bottle and tell me the price he grins to the barkeep. And as long as it's not stupidly excessive he pays without a murmur or a haggle.

That lot fell out of the back end of a mule. Next time they hassle honest traders they are stuffed back in again so hard they see intestines the rest of their days.

Amara patted down the leader, pulling out a small hidden pouch. She looked inside and then raised an eyebrow to Hoskar asking him to come over and take a look at the contents. "Perhaps it is time for me to purchase some replacement armour." she looked around quickly before heading to the barkeeper "Sorry about the mess, but I think it's time for us to be leaving. You know anyone that might take these zebras for a decent enough price?"

Whilst the others yabber on inside Ohanzee steps out and approaches the indicated breast.

"Well now aren't you the fine one" he says in his best herd beast calming voice as he runs his right hand over it. Instinctively he places his blue left hand into the marking of the blue hand.
This message was last edited by the player at 12:31, Tue 26 June 2018.

Melock laughs, "Did you see the size of mine?" He walks over to the bar and helps himself to the bottle Hoskar has just bought, "If those zebra are marked as theirs, we can't keep them, so we either leave them or as Amara suggested sell them."

"I can fix you a buyer no problem, come to think about it there's a bunch came through the other day from over west. Adventurers looking for mounts that won't get them killed. If you leave it to me I can sort it out this evening. Where are you staying so that I can bring you your money? I'll take a 5% cut if that sounds okay?"

The Barkeep gives a helpful smile.

The Zebra seems quiet enough and lets Ohanzee climb up on to it's back.

Cautiously Ohanzee swings up and onto the zebra, is reins in his hand. He gently urges it on with a clicking noise and using using his legs as he would a on one of their own mounts tries to control and guide it.

A small crowd has collected to watch Ohanzee ride around on one of the Pavis Royal Guard Zebras, whilst inside several of the injured thugs are beginning to recover, casting healing magic and generally making a lot of fuss over their wounds.

Celebrating with the Deadheads, Grundar sees Ohanzee in action and breaks out laughing. You gotta see this guys, he yells, beckoning the others over from the bar, flipping between gesturing wildly through the door and bending double in howls of laughter, Our rhino rider's gone all stripy!

For a moment he thinks better of it, but the temptation soon takes over. Running to the cautious rider he slaps the mount on the rump, yelling, Giddy-up ol'stripy, before your last master awakes!

Ohanzee releases the reins just as Grundar slaps the beast on the rump and with the slap, a click and a little leg it lunges forward as he rides arms spread showing the locals the true riding abilities of a nomad on a herd beast.

Gripping with his knees and leaning into the turns he legs the zebra about in an arc and back to the railing. "Wow now" he calms it and leaning down takes up the reins again then pulls the reins of his mount loose.

"Come on, let's go before more trouble arrives."

"I've just found my ride to the wedding!" he adds grinning, but says no more on that.

Amara nods to the barkeep. "Sure, just keep the money for us. 15% for yourself. We'll be back sometime." she looked around at the stirring guardsmen "Time for us to be off." and she walked out the door.

Melock follows Amara outside, "That was fun, can we come back tomorrow and do it again?" He mounts up and looks up and down the street, "I reckon they'll get some of mates to come look for us."