Booth realized early this was going to be an evening.  Normally he would drink himself into a stupor as quickly as he could.  This evening, he wanted to remember.  The first tankard of whiskey was to get to the proper level of inebriation, the rest were just to maintain that level.  The mutton provided fuel for the evenings events.

The sailor could feel the excitement in the air as they moved to the Decapitated Ox.  The women were to his liking and he clapped along with the bards tune.  He was enjoying himself and reacted with surprise to learn women twiddle without a man.  His head whipped around to each buxom lass with this newfound knowledge and the gears in his head spun.  Evidently there was a lot to learn about women.

A new venue and Booth met Wisp.  Ah Wisp.  Soft curves, deep looks, a woman who actually enjoyed talking to him.  She was perfect.  Or at least perfect in that moment.  He learned he could touch and hold a woman and enjoy her company.  She was as intoxicating as the alcohol and shattered a lifetime of stories that women were good for only one thing.  The old adage, "Get up, get in, get off, get away" made no sense.  He wanted to enjoy his time with her, not have a quick romp and run.  He was beginning to suspect those "Gogigoga" comments were at his expense and they enjoyed a good laugh behind his back.  Fuck sailors.

Wisp's shift ended and with some very kind words from her and a sense of loss, they moved on.  The next locale met with several like-minded individuals.  Lovely ladies, men recanting tales of adventure, more drink.  This was a crew he could hang with.  Booth recanted a tale or two himself, with the required exaggeration, of high sea adventure.  Alas, his new friends were called away due to early ship out in the morning.  One fine lass said she had to get home to her child.

So it lead the pair to the Wispy Cow in search of more adventure to keep the night alive.  The Cow should prove up to the task with a large group of people.  The energy in the room was like caffeine.  Booth nudged Branagan when they entered, "Someone brought a fookin' owl!"

They settled into a crowded spot and Booth knew the evening was going to take it's toll on him.  He might feel it tomorrow, but he doubted he would regret it one bit.  An exaggerated Nooo formed on his lips as Brody formed the magical hand and picked the perfect target.  Booth lit up with a smile and his mouth hung open in anticipation of what was next.

*WHAP*

He was giddy and the adrenaline rush cleared his mind.  She reacted, the barbarian reacted, the tavern reacted.  "You da..."  He was about to congratulate Branagan when a female warrior sitting next to him took offense to his obvious joy at a woman getting spanked.  She cold cocked him on the side of his head.

"What the fuck?  You bitch!"  His ear began ringing.  Booth, not one to hold off punching a woman, reacted with a back-fist to her jaw.  He spun and then shoved her out of her chair into the aisle.

Booth stood ready to kick her while she was down.  Her table then flipped over as her dwarf companion cleared space for a charge and tackled Booth.  Down they went in a heap.  Booth laughed.

The waitress nearby stepped on his hand as she tried to clear away from the brawl.  His hands were free but the dwarf was getting some gut punches in.  Booth grabbed a fallen tankard and clubbed the dwarf on the head once, twice a third time.  The smaller man cursed something and finally kneed Booth in the family jewels.  They rolled apart.

Booth shakily pulled himself back to a standing position and glanced to see how Branagan was doing.

Fully enjoying the moment and the night thus far Brody used none of his fey abilities and relied on the physical properties of his favored shape, a small gnome sized being - pudgy and ill built for direct physical confrontation. He was a nimble little bugger though and he moved quickly under the table grabbing a plate as he did so.

Rising on he other side he stood a few inches shorter than the dwarf facing off with Booth.

"Have some a 'dis ya daft bastard!" He then smashes the plate over the dwarf's head and the demi-human falls to the ground with pieces of pork stuck to his hair.

Brody then jumps on the bar and yells after Booth, "Strike another woman and I'll kick yer ars lad! There's plenty a' pickin's here fer yer fun. Save the ladies for other forms of contact!"

He then winds back and kicks a bald merchant in the back of the head sending the man's toupee flying into the crowd.

"She started it!"  Booth countered.  But there wasn't time to discuss semantics.  Said female was engaged with soundly beating a man who had come up behind her and attempted the other form of contact in a two handed reach around.  She didn't take kindly to it.  Before Booth could be jealous of the man's hands and their proximity to the voluptuous orbs.  She had crushed his fingers and spun around to educate him in the consequences of such an action.  Her attention was off the sailor.

A glancing blow from some flying object and splash of ale across his back caused him to turn in the other direction.  A goblin and older merc with greying temples, both in leathers, were attempting to flee from a trio of tough looking thugs in metal armor.  They were headed his way.

Booth kicked the legs out from under the goblin on principle sending the cowardly thing to the ground.  No one should run from a good brawl!  He could forgive the older man based on age then moved in and shouldered one of the thugs into another to disrupt their pursuit and followed with a punch to a jaw and a kidney blow beneath the armor that caused the man's bladder to take notice.

"You're gonna pay for that."  The man's companion threatened as Booth's target made a mess on the floor.

"Oh yea?  You and what army?"  Booth retorted.

Said army was right behind him.  Booth had lost track of the third thug who had kicked the down goblin as well but then gave up chasing the old man and came up behind Booth.  He grabbed the sailor and when Booth turned to see who it was.  The threat came true and he paid for it alright.  Booth took a mighty roundhouse from the speaker to the face that left him seeing white for a moment.

Laughing will delight Brody watched Booth get walloped upside the head. He saw Booth fall beside the bar and shifted his position to see what was happening. As Booth got up to his hands and knees a wizard turned and fixed his gaze upon the downed sailor. He pointed in Booth's direction and began to mutter some words.

His spell casting was cut short with Brody being the faster caster this night as the wizard's robe flew up around his head throwing the man off balance causing him to lose concentration. Unfortunately for Booth, on his hand and knees in front of the man and at waist height, the mage would forever be know to him as the commando wizard and Booth would never forget the mans natural hair color was red.

Brody didn't have much time to laugh hysterically before a metal mug slammed into his face throwing the gnomish fey down behind the bar. He landed hard but sustained no injury as the ample bosom of one of the barmaids broke his fall.

---

Last round you get to post. There's no sign of the city watch so don't include that in the post. We'll deal with that situation following Brody's post.

Some days it doesn't pay to raise your head.  This was one of those days.  Booth got an eyeful of something he had wished never to see.  His sore jaw involuntarily hung open and THAT just compounded the moment and seared it into his brain.

Still there was an unwritten rule in a bar room brawl not to target a man's privates.  That damn dwarf hadn't followed that rule.  Then again beating a dwarf with a tankard probably was against that race's cardinal laws.

Rather than take a cheap shot at the wizard, Booth turned and sought out his aggressor.  The big bald thug and wall of muscle that was his friend were easily spotted.  Booth growled.  He closed his sore jaw, regained his feet, hurdled a halfling as he closed the distance and kicked the knee out from behind of Mr. Pay-for-that.  Once the man had dropped to a knee, Booth laid a hard elbow into the man's thick skull.

There was a satisfying thud as baldy lost his senses and went down in a slump.  "Ha!"  Booth managed through a bloody smile.  The last of the trio, a man who had just picked up an overweight merchant and easily body slammed him onto a table, which collapsed as the legs gave way, turned back and recognized Booth standing triumphantly over his colleague.

He came at Booth.  The sailor dodged one, then a second swing.  He replied with a rapid jab that cut the man's lip.  Then a body slammed into him from behind and he fell into Mr. Muscle.  This didn't go well for Booth as he was immediately grabbed yet again.  The man stepped and spun as he used Booth like the hammer in a hammer toss.

There was a slight pause in the melee.  Many a patron that night would remember a glimpse out of the corner of their eyes as a sailor went flying over others heads, his arms and legs spread eagled as he cartwheeled through the air and crashed onto the bar top.  Booth slide across a pool of ale and was deposited on the bartenders side as he disappeared from view.

The buxom barmaid pushed Brody off of her bosom and he lands just in front of her. As they stood up Brody gave the lass a wink. She gave him a swift kick between the legs sending the small demi-human formed fey sprawling on the floor.

It was shortly after that Booth came flying over the bar and landed next to him. The pair look at each other and laugh.

"'tis been a great night ya skallywag has it not." Brody exclaims to Booth. "You mortals know how to entertain!"

It was then every door to the place burst open and the city watch began to stream in. Like rats fleeing a sinking hip patrons of the Wispy Cow flood for the doors trying to evade arrest.

Brody looks at Booth and smiles. "One last challenge then, I wish you luck." He winks and then vanishes from sight leaving Booth there to fend for himself.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=qGyPuey-1Jw

---

Let's make this a DEX check to evade the guard and make it out the door. DC12.

If you fail then I'll need a second check DC 15 and if you fail that one as well...

...give me one more DC18 as you run around the tavern dodging guardsmen.

Three fails and your in the drunk tank young sailor.

Booth wiped something red off his cheek.  It could be blood, it could be ale.  It was probably a mix of both.  "Anytime you want to go slumming, look me up."

The gnome disappeared and Booth laughed again.  He knew they wouldn't catch Branagan.  His mind and body were still buzzing from the adrenaline, ale, whiskey, wine, beer and action.  Things became real simple.  What had been a grand free-for-all suddenly became an us vs them moment.

Booth stood, gave a apologetic toss of his hands for invading the bartenders space and vaulted back over the bar.

Big ugly was helping up baldy when some guards came at them.  Booth shouldered one guard into another as he had done earlier as an assist to the men and a way to say 'no hard feelings'.  He then broke for the door.  One guard in front of him grabbed the red wizard commando.  Booth wasn't about to help there and dodged around them.  One guard to go, lunged at him.  The sailor stepped back to avoid it and his back hit a supporting timber.  The guard came again, but Booth was quicker and pushed off and towards the door.  He had the angle and could see open air beyond.  The guard stumbled into the pillar, his fingers having just brushed the sailor's shirt.  Booth was out the door and ran off into the night.

(Huh, normally this is something I would barely sneak by on the skin of my teeth or against all odds fail all 3 in a row.  The gods of debauchery must be pleased.  Dex check 23.)