Avys will look at Sylviar with a curious gaze as he orders another ale. He responds by taking his hammer back out and gesturing, "You see, I'm a tinker of sorts, crafter by trade.. These gems augment my items for particular purposes. Some might call it magic of sorts." His work hammer will glow a slight red color emitting some heat in the process before returning back to normal and back to his waist. "Though, these things tend to only work for me of course, it makes stealing them less appealing. The gems themselves are rather cheap so if someone truly wanted them, I can certainly engage in some sort of moderate negotiation to part with a few"
He turns to Kasha, then back at Sylviar "You can call me Avys, I'm not sure if I'd go so far as to claim friendship, but you two do seem like rather interesting folks" He takes another sip of his tea and doesn't really react to Feliara and her jokes besides a slight smirk and nod to calm her nerves as he could see the slight worry in her eyes.
He then turns to the dwarf, and in Dwarfish says,
"And who are you? You look rather dark and mysterious, yet you joined out table with such few words or introduction"
Naumick offers a slight smile and nod at the use of the King's tongue. He accepts the Beholder's Brew, taking a swig and swirling it about in his mouth before swallowing and offering a nod of approval. He pulls a vial from inside one of his pouches, pouring a bit of the drink into it before placing a cork in it. The vial disappears inside his cloak while the remainder of the drink disappears in one long drink.
In Dwarvish, he responds:
"Well met, traveler. I be neither dark nor mysterious, just well lectured in the ways of economy by my father and his father before him. Too much of anything is a waste and I was always told to waste not want not," he says, before offering a somewhat toothy grin followed by a smirk. "So I choose not to waste me words unnecessarily."
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
Corrin Kettlewhistle: Halfling Life Cleric (Curse of Strahd) Kip Dalton: Human Lore Bard (Waterdeep Dragon Heist) Debauchery Dalliance: Half-Drow Oath of Conquest Paladin (White Plume Mountain)
He turns to Kasha, then back at Sylviar. "You can call me Avys, I'm not sure if I'd go so far as to claim friendship, but you two do seem like rather interesting folks"
"Fair enough, Captain!"Kasha saluted, pretending you were someone of importance, but, in her eyes, you already were.
Sitting nearby at a different portion of the bar sat Bruvir, brooding as he was wont to do most days. Smaller than most patrons at the Yawning Portal, his head barely cleared the countertop while his legs dangled lazily towards a footrest below he could never hope to reach. He was decked in worn chain mail and a rather old looking helm with all his items neatly organized on an adjacent chair: a large sack filled with mismatched and random items, a stack of javelins - nearly as tall as he was - tied together with a band and two very large hammers. Similar in appearance, each one had an ornate silver hammerhead etched with swirling carvings, handles wrapped with a dark blue cloth and a distinctive pommel design: one a crashing wave, the other a thundercloud. Though both were large, one looked particularly unwieldy and seemed suitable for a creature many times his size. With blue-grey skin, a long sliver beard that reached down towards his midsection and a prominent nose, to the outside observer, he seemed every bit a gnome, albeit a rather odd looking one. Of course if Bruvir was to be believed - and he never was much to his anger, chagrin and sadness - he was no gnome. But then again, why would anyone believe that he was actually a Storm Giant, cursed to this diminutive fate until he could pay a sorceress' blackmail or preferably, find a cure then kill her; even a child would be hard-pressed to believe a story like that.
Thus Bruvir "The Giant" - as he was derisively called behind his back but never to his face if one enjoyed having two working knee caps and aspirations of having children at any point - sat staring out towards the raucous crowd, seeing everything and nothing at the same time, lost in thought.
Why did that Witch have to pick me...? He lamented internally to himself again as he - with effort - managed to reach a rather large mug off the counter and bring it to his lips. He noticed the gathering of a rather odd and animated group of people further down the bar but thought nothing of it. Strange folk today... though no stranger than myself I suppose, he mused to himself as he struggled to replace his mug back on the counter. Hearing a couple of folks behind him snicker ever so slightly, he took a deep breath prepared to engage them, only to remember the brawl he inadvertently incited just two days ago and thought better of it; he didn't want to pay for another set of furniture. But if they continued, well, not even a shrinking coin purse would be able to stop the likely rampage that was to come.
Feliara laughs as she bumps her fist with Sylivar's before cleaning hers with a napkin. With an agile movement, one that no drunk Eladrin should attempt, she stood up and sat on the backrest of her chair, leaving her feet on the seat. From there she used her mage hand again to grab her tankard while talking to the elf trying to contain her laughter.
"Sylviar, you know I'd never mock your strength! Not when I can barely lift a chair"
Taking another sip to calm her dry throat, she almost reached the point of no return while leaning back. Her arms flailed around and after almost falling for a second time she spoke again to her beloved Sylviar.
"I'm glad to see that you beat his ass, maybe next time I'll bet a few coins for you"
She then noticed the girl talking to them, a Half-Elf who seemed quite young. With a swift movement she did a small reverence while seated towards the Half-Elf, a noticeable warm smile on Feliara's face accompanied her words. The bright attitude of Sylviar's friend already made a good impression and for what it seemed, she could be a great friend.
"Nice to meet you Kasha! I'm Feliara, though people around here know me as 'Please Shut Up'"
After laughing soflty at her own joke, she went back to her original position. Crossing her arms and resting them on her knees, she waited with curiosity Avys' response to the elf. She hoped that he wouldn't take it as a threat or something, last thing she needed was fighting between her friends.
Sylivar's dulled expression masks the quick glances he gave Avys and Feliara. The two were friends. Good to know. He plastered his usual expression on, raising an eyebrow at Feliara's antics. "Strength might not be the best word. I don't like work, and strength takes effort - but knowing precisely where to land your blows is my preferred course of action." He let out a smirk as the chair wobbles, resting his elbow on the table to watch. "For someone who asked me for my strength and tolerance to liquor just a moment ago, you're being quite adventurous. And if you're betting coins, don't bother - it gets converted to booze, anyways. Call me an alchemist, if you will," he joked with a wink, laughing and raising his mug at the self-deprecating joke. Sylivar wasn't unfamiliar with the practice.
"Kasha! It's been some time. You know me, bumbling around taverns and seeing what there is to see. Friends are found and lost with ease, but shouldn't you be the one making that attempt? I can't imagine there are more bars in the woods to mill around. If there were, I wouldn't be here. What about you? How've you been holding up?"
"HA!"she laughed, once, loudly, putting an arm around you and leaning in for an affectionate hug. "I don't get out much in that regard. I've been ok. Kinda hit a rough patch lately. Just wanted to get away."
"More importantly, what are you here for? You clearly didn't expect me here."
"I didn't!"she admitted. "It's good to see you again! I was honestly just looking to get into some trouble! Let's just say.." she thought for a moment. "...i'm on a vacation! How are you? Are these your friends?"
"I consider anyone friendly enough to drink with as a friend. Most would consider an excursion in the woods to be a sufficient vacation as any," Sylivar responds, wistfully releasing his grip on his second mug of Beholder's Brew to wrap an arm around the Half-Elf's shoulder. His second arm grips his quarterstaff, and with two collisions of wood connecting stone, the barman was speechlessly alerted to another of Syl's desires for a drink. "A rough time, you say? Well, I can definitely tell you're stronger than me. The last time the path before me was bumpy, I used alcohol as a way of smoothing the ride. Some may say I still do, but I'm of the opinion my path has changed. But enough about my sorry life - trouble, you say?" he continues, the corners of his mouth curling upwards at the mention of trouble. "That's a strong word for something to distract you from your woes. I prefer fun."
Avys will look at Sylviar with a curious gaze as he orders another ale. He responds by taking his hammer back out and gesturing, "You see, I'm a tinker of sorts, crafter by trade.. These gems augment my items for particular purposes. Some might call it magic of sorts." His work hammer will glow a slight red color emitting some heat in the process before returning back to normal and back to his waist. "Though, these things tend to only work for me of course, it makes stealing them less appealing. The gems themselves are rather cheap so if someone truly wanted them, I can certainly engage in some sort of moderate negotiation to part with a few"
"You can call me Avys, I'm not sure if I'd go so far as to claim friendship, but you two do seem like rather interesting folks"
Sylivar gives an exaggerated sigh at the mention of the gem's functionality being limited to Avys. "What a shame." As Avys continued, Syl let out a chuckle and claps him on the shoulder, amber eyes full of amusement. "I have little use for such items, my friend. Don't be worried - I'm surprised you reacted that way to comical jests, given you seem to know Feliara quite well." Speaking of, his head swivels in Feliara's direction, expression twisted in obviously mock amusement. "Or, do you mean to tell me your heckling is purely directed at me? I don't know whether to feel flattered or offended."
Sylivar idly taps the counter, recalling his limited vocabulary learned over time muddling in Dwarven taverns. They had the best ale, sure, but learning a language while drunk was exceedingly difficult. He shrugs, shifting his gaze towards the silent Dwarf in the corner."Beholder's Brew, huh? Most would label me as strange for enjoying it. Maybe it'll make you more talkative, huh?"he suggests. "I must admit, I haven't seen a silent Dwarf in a tavern before."
As you all mingle and do your own thing in the Yawning Tavern, the sounds of gamblers yelling and drunken adventurers singing bawdy songs nearly drown out the off-key strumming of a young bard three tables over.
Then all the noise is eclipsed by a shout: “Ya pig! Like killin’ me mates, does ya?”Then a seven-foot-tall half-orc is hit by a wild, swinging punch from a male human whose shaved head is covered with eye-shaped tattoos. Four other humans stand behind him, ready to jump into the fray. The half-orc cracks her knuckles, roars, and leaps at the tattooed figure — but before you can see if blood is drawn, a crowd of spectators clusters around the brawl.
Kasha spins and watches the commotion. She eyes the tall half orc woman. "That's Yagra."she explains. Kasha waves to her animatedly. "Hi, Yagra!" Yagra takes the smallest moment to turn and look at Kasha, smile, wave, only to take a solid punch, and the fight continues.
"Ooop!!"Kasha winces, realizing that, perhaps, she distracted her.
Avys will nod pleasantly on the dwarf and turn to Sylviar and shrug nonchalantly in response to his comments as the the ruckus begins to increase with the brawl. "Um Kasha was it? Perhaps you shouldn't start conversation with your friend while she's in a fight. Do you think she needs assistance?" He sips his tea one last time preparing for the chaos to consume the remainder of the tavern. He waits to see what will happen before making a move.
Kasha turned back around. "Yes. Hi!"she smiled, her green eyes twinkling.
"Perhaps you shouldn't start conversation with your friend while she's in a fight. Do you think she needs assistance?"
Kasha's face wrinkles into an "oh, you!" face and says, "I was just sayin' hi! I don't think i've seen her take on THAT many people, but she's surprised me before!"
Yagra the half-orc is formidable, but it's unlikely she'll be able to fend off four men. The crowd that's gathered also makes it difficult to see anything anymore.
Naumick eyes the chaos unfolding, shrugs as he hops down from his chair and then sprints with a burst of speed as he bull rushes one of the 4 attackers, using his tankard as a club to slam its kneecap.
Attack: 20 Damage: 2
Sneak attack with surprise? 3
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
Corrin Kettlewhistle: Halfling Life Cleric (Curse of Strahd) Kip Dalton: Human Lore Bard (Waterdeep Dragon Heist) Debauchery Dalliance: Half-Drow Oath of Conquest Paladin (White Plume Mountain)
WHAM!A solid hit! The man doesn't even see it coming. But, who are theses guys attacking Yagra? Kasha, getting in the mood seeing some excitement, grabs a mug of ale and begins chugging. Gulp gulp gulp gulp gulp, and it's empty. "AHHHhhh..."she says, wiping her mouth and staring at the fight expectantly.
Avys sighs deeply as he stands up and follows Naumick towards the crowd. "I suppose we should see how your friend is doing, this senseless chaos is quite unappealing if you ask me." He gestures towards the group to follow him as he walks over at a normal pace. His tea in his hand as he wriggles his way through the spectators to get a good glimpse of what is going on. With his other hand he unravels his boomerang that also has a clear gem imbedded in the center as it glows a somewhat bright light that radiates for 5ft. He then finds the nearest man to him and pours his cup of tea over the man ready to batter him if he chooses to turn and face him. "Enough is enough yes?"
"aye it's tea and it was delicious, now who are you and why are you causing such a mess in here?" He stays alert and his nerves are showing as he asks his questions checking his shoulder to see if anyone else joins from his table.
Sylivar slowly brings his hands together in a round of sarcastic applause. “There’s nothing like a good tavern brawl. Well, Kasha - it looks like you’ll have some entertainment yet.” With that, he suddenly leaps from the bench, quarterstaff trailing on the wood behind. He leaps through the air, propelling himself with his staff mid-flight, and staggers, ducking and swaying through the flurry of punches and non-alcoholic beverages being tossed around. The drunkard seems to evade blows through sheer luck, but there comes a time where it’s apparent it is more strategy than chance.
Sylivar non-fatally cracks someone across the knee with a staff, bringing a fist to uppercut the unfortunate victim on the way down. At the same time, he’s getting a good look about the man, turning his head to quip a slurred question to Yagra - “Any idea why these fools are attacking you?”
Action - Quarterstaff Attack. Bonus Action - fist to the jaw. Attack: 15 Damage: 10 Attack: 16 Damage: 6
When the commotion between the tattooed men and the orc began, he at first thought nothing of it. When it seemed to grow into a larger affair, Bruvir was struck with an idea: if he could keep this fight from breaking out into an all out brawl, perhaps Duran would lessen his debts or forget them entirely. Hopping off his chair and grabbing the smaller of his two weapons, the still massive warhammer with the crashing wave pommel, he made his way towards the fray; along the way giving a particularly sharp looking at one(s) who had laughed at him a few minutes before.
(OCC: If any of the people he glared at snickered or said something derisive to him as he walked by, ignore everything below as he'll immediately begin a fight with them instead, furniture repayment be damned XD)
Arriving at the back of he crowd, he forcefully pushed his way through to the center, using his hammer roughly to shove folks out of the way as he grumbled to himself. Arriving at the center, he saw the scene unfold and announced in booming, yet squeaky voice "What is the meaning of this?!? Whatever your quarrel is, take it elsewhere."Hopefully Duran heard that... he thought to himself as he hefted his warhammer onto his shoulder in an intimidating manner and waited to see how everyone responded.
On her tippy toes on top of a table, Kasha danced and cast prestidigitation, sprinkling nature glitter everywhere each time one of her new friends made a successful attack against the bald men attacking Yarga - who was definitely losing.
"YOU get a sock in the face! YOU get a sock in the face! YOU get a sock in the face!"
When the fight started Feliara didn't even move, she simply grabbed her lyre and started playing some tunes. The mix of music and chaos was the perfect description for magic, it didn't make sense but everyone was fine with it. A few notes more and she was almost ready, her fingers only had to pluck two or three cords before her melody was complete. A few orange leaves appeared around her before a gust of wind threw them in the direction of Sylviar. Each one disintegrated in contact with the person who was following, enchanting his strikes with Eladrin magic.
She wasn't done, she had an ace up her sleeve. With a smug smile, she looked towards that odd fella as she concentrated her magic. Tickling started to rise up her throat as she viciously mocked the human. Her words, sharp as knives, flew accompanied of some illusory arrows towards the human.
"You're like the plague, except a plague can kill. Go back with your leader and suck one of it's tentacles"
Sadly, she was so concentrated on playing her lyre that she didn't notice that those men freezed when the small thing spoke. Maybe she prolongued the fight, but if those fell unconcious they would surely learn their lesson.
Action: Vicious Mockery (Wisdom save DC : 13) // Damage: 1 psychic
"Well...? Did I stutter? Take your fight elsewhere or prepare to regret that decision for the rest of your days. " Bruvir's tone made it clear he was not going to tell them again.
Avys will look at Sylviar with a curious gaze as he orders another ale. He responds by taking his hammer back out and gesturing, "You see, I'm a tinker of sorts, crafter by trade.. These gems augment my items for particular purposes. Some might call it magic of sorts." His work hammer will glow a slight red color emitting some heat in the process before returning back to normal and back to his waist. "Though, these things tend to only work for me of course, it makes stealing them less appealing. The gems themselves are rather cheap so if someone truly wanted them, I can certainly engage in some sort of moderate negotiation to part with a few"
He turns to Kasha, then back at Sylviar "You can call me Avys, I'm not sure if I'd go so far as to claim friendship, but you two do seem like rather interesting folks" He takes another sip of his tea and doesn't really react to Feliara and her jokes besides a slight smirk and nod to calm her nerves as he could see the slight worry in her eyes.
He then turns to the dwarf, and in Dwarfish says,
"And who are you? You look rather dark and mysterious, yet you joined out table with such few words or introduction"
Naumick offers a slight smile and nod at the use of the King's tongue. He accepts the Beholder's Brew, taking a swig and swirling it about in his mouth before swallowing and offering a nod of approval. He pulls a vial from inside one of his pouches, pouring a bit of the drink into it before placing a cork in it. The vial disappears inside his cloak while the remainder of the drink disappears in one long drink.
In Dwarvish, he responds:
"Well met, traveler. I be neither dark nor mysterious, just well lectured in the ways of economy by my father and his father before him. Too much of anything is a waste and I was always told to waste not want not," he says, before offering a somewhat toothy grin followed by a smirk. "So I choose not to waste me words unnecessarily."
Corrin Kettlewhistle: Halfling Life Cleric (Curse of Strahd)
Kip Dalton: Human Lore Bard (Waterdeep Dragon Heist)
Debauchery Dalliance: Half-Drow Oath of Conquest Paladin (White Plume Mountain)
He turns to Kasha, then back at Sylviar. "You can call me Avys, I'm not sure if I'd go so far as to claim friendship, but you two do seem like rather interesting folks"
"Fair enough, Captain!" Kasha saluted, pretending you were someone of importance, but, in her eyes, you already were.
Sitting nearby at a different portion of the bar sat Bruvir, brooding as he was wont to do most days. Smaller than most patrons at the Yawning Portal, his head barely cleared the countertop while his legs dangled lazily towards a footrest below he could never hope to reach. He was decked in worn chain mail and a rather old looking helm with all his items neatly organized on an adjacent chair: a large sack filled with mismatched and random items, a stack of javelins - nearly as tall as he was - tied together with a band and two very large hammers. Similar in appearance, each one had an ornate silver hammerhead etched with swirling carvings, handles wrapped with a dark blue cloth and a distinctive pommel design: one a crashing wave, the other a thundercloud. Though both were large, one looked particularly unwieldy and seemed suitable for a creature many times his size. With blue-grey skin, a long sliver beard that reached down towards his midsection and a prominent nose, to the outside observer, he seemed every bit a gnome, albeit a rather odd looking one. Of course if Bruvir was to be believed - and he never was much to his anger, chagrin and sadness - he was no gnome. But then again, why would anyone believe that he was actually a Storm Giant, cursed to this diminutive fate until he could pay a sorceress' blackmail or preferably, find a cure then kill her; even a child would be hard-pressed to believe a story like that.
Thus Bruvir "The Giant" - as he was derisively called behind his back but never to his face if one enjoyed having two working knee caps and aspirations of having children at any point - sat staring out towards the raucous crowd, seeing everything and nothing at the same time, lost in thought.
Why did that Witch have to pick me...? He lamented internally to himself again as he - with effort - managed to reach a rather large mug off the counter and bring it to his lips. He noticed the gathering of a rather odd and animated group of people further down the bar but thought nothing of it. Strange folk today... though no stranger than myself I suppose, he mused to himself as he struggled to replace his mug back on the counter. Hearing a couple of folks behind him snicker ever so slightly, he took a deep breath prepared to engage them, only to remember the brawl he inadvertently incited just two days ago and thought better of it; he didn't want to pay for another set of furniture. But if they continued, well, not even a shrinking coin purse would be able to stop the likely rampage that was to come.
Zoldier’s Curse of the Crimson Throne: DM/ Redii || Zoldier's Strange Aeon's: DM
Sylivar's dulled expression masks the quick glances he gave Avys and Feliara. The two were friends. Good to know. He plastered his usual expression on, raising an eyebrow at Feliara's antics. "Strength might not be the best word. I don't like work, and strength takes effort - but knowing precisely where to land your blows is my preferred course of action." He let out a smirk as the chair wobbles, resting his elbow on the table to watch. "For someone who asked me for my strength and tolerance to liquor just a moment ago, you're being quite adventurous. And if you're betting coins, don't bother - it gets converted to booze, anyways. Call me an alchemist, if you will," he joked with a wink, laughing and raising his mug at the self-deprecating joke. Sylivar wasn't unfamiliar with the practice.
"I consider anyone friendly enough to drink with as a friend. Most would consider an excursion in the woods to be a sufficient vacation as any," Sylivar responds, wistfully releasing his grip on his second mug of Beholder's Brew to wrap an arm around the Half-Elf's shoulder. His second arm grips his quarterstaff, and with two collisions of wood connecting stone, the barman was speechlessly alerted to another of Syl's desires for a drink. "A rough time, you say? Well, I can definitely tell you're stronger than me. The last time the path before me was bumpy, I used alcohol as a way of smoothing the ride. Some may say I still do, but I'm of the opinion my path has changed. But enough about my sorry life - trouble, you say?" he continues, the corners of his mouth curling upwards at the mention of trouble. "That's a strong word for something to distract you from your woes. I prefer fun."
Sylivar gives an exaggerated sigh at the mention of the gem's functionality being limited to Avys. "What a shame." As Avys continued, Syl let out a chuckle and claps him on the shoulder, amber eyes full of amusement. "I have little use for such items, my friend. Don't be worried - I'm surprised you reacted that way to comical jests, given you seem to know Feliara quite well." Speaking of, his head swivels in Feliara's direction, expression twisted in obviously mock amusement. "Or, do you mean to tell me your heckling is purely directed at me? I don't know whether to feel flattered or offended."
Sylivar idly taps the counter, recalling his limited vocabulary learned over time muddling in Dwarven taverns. They had the best ale, sure, but learning a language while drunk was exceedingly difficult. He shrugs, shifting his gaze towards the silent Dwarf in the corner. "Beholder's Brew, huh? Most would label me as strange for enjoying it. Maybe it'll make you more talkative, huh?" he suggests. "I must admit, I haven't seen a silent Dwarf in a tavern before."
As you all mingle and do your own thing in the Yawning Tavern, the sounds of gamblers yelling and drunken adventurers singing bawdy songs nearly drown out the off-key strumming of a young bard three tables over.
Then all the noise is eclipsed by a shout: “Ya pig! Like killin’ me mates, does ya?” Then a seven-foot-tall half-orc is hit by a wild, swinging punch from a male human whose shaved head is covered with eye-shaped tattoos. Four other humans stand behind him, ready to jump into the fray. The half-orc cracks her knuckles, roars, and leaps at the tattooed figure — but before you can see if blood is drawn, a crowd of spectators clusters around the brawl.
Kasha spins and watches the commotion. She eyes the tall half orc woman. "That's Yagra." she explains. Kasha waves to her animatedly. "Hi, Yagra!" Yagra takes the smallest moment to turn and look at Kasha, smile, wave, only to take a solid punch, and the fight continues.
"Ooop!!" Kasha winces, realizing that, perhaps, she distracted her.
What do you do?
Avys will nod pleasantly on the dwarf and turn to Sylviar and shrug nonchalantly in response to his comments as the the ruckus begins to increase with the brawl. "Um Kasha was it? Perhaps you shouldn't start conversation with your friend while she's in a fight. Do you think she needs assistance?" He sips his tea one last time preparing for the chaos to consume the remainder of the tavern. He waits to see what will happen before making a move.
"Um Kasha was it?"
Kasha turned back around. "Yes. Hi!" she smiled, her green eyes twinkling.
"Perhaps you shouldn't start conversation with your friend while she's in a fight. Do you think she needs assistance?"
Kasha's face wrinkles into an "oh, you!" face and says, "I was just sayin' hi! I don't think i've seen her take on THAT many people, but she's surprised me before!"
Yagra the half-orc is formidable, but it's unlikely she'll be able to fend off four men. The crowd that's gathered also makes it difficult to see anything anymore.
Naumick eyes the chaos unfolding, shrugs as he hops down from his chair and then sprints with a burst of speed as he bull rushes one of the 4 attackers, using his tankard as a club to slam its kneecap.
Attack: 20 Damage: 2
Sneak attack with surprise? 3
Corrin Kettlewhistle: Halfling Life Cleric (Curse of Strahd)
Kip Dalton: Human Lore Bard (Waterdeep Dragon Heist)
Debauchery Dalliance: Half-Drow Oath of Conquest Paladin (White Plume Mountain)
WHAM! A solid hit! The man doesn't even see it coming. But, who are theses guys attacking Yagra? Kasha, getting in the mood seeing some excitement, grabs a mug of ale and begins chugging. Gulp gulp gulp gulp gulp, and it's empty. "AHHHhhh..." she says, wiping her mouth and staring at the fight expectantly.
Avys sighs deeply as he stands up and follows Naumick towards the crowd. "I suppose we should see how your friend is doing, this senseless chaos is quite unappealing if you ask me." He gestures towards the group to follow him as he walks over at a normal pace. His tea in his hand as he wriggles his way through the spectators to get a good glimpse of what is going on. With his other hand he unravels his boomerang that also has a clear gem imbedded in the center as it glows a somewhat bright light that radiates for 5ft. He then finds the nearest man to him and pours his cup of tea over the man ready to batter him if he chooses to turn and face him. "Enough is enough yes?"
"BlrPbtph!!" The man says, getting tea all over his face. He wipes it. "Is that..tea??" he exclaims, aghast.
"HA!" Kasha cries out from the tables, pointing to the tea covered thug. "Got eem!"
The fight continues.
"aye it's tea and it was delicious, now who are you and why are you causing such a mess in here?" He stays alert and his nerves are showing as he asks his questions checking his shoulder to see if anyone else joins from his table.
Naumic spins, going for the knee of T-bag. “Less talk, more action,” he grumbles.
Attack: 8 Damage: 4
Sneaky sneak as foe is engaged in tea talk: 5
Corrin Kettlewhistle: Halfling Life Cleric (Curse of Strahd)
Kip Dalton: Human Lore Bard (Waterdeep Dragon Heist)
Debauchery Dalliance: Half-Drow Oath of Conquest Paladin (White Plume Mountain)
Sylivar slowly brings his hands together in a round of sarcastic applause. “There’s nothing like a good tavern brawl. Well, Kasha - it looks like you’ll have some entertainment yet.” With that, he suddenly leaps from the bench, quarterstaff trailing on the wood behind. He leaps through the air, propelling himself with his staff mid-flight, and staggers, ducking and swaying through the flurry of punches and non-alcoholic beverages being tossed around. The drunkard seems to evade blows through sheer luck, but there comes a time where it’s apparent it is more strategy than chance.
Sylivar non-fatally cracks someone across the knee with a staff, bringing a fist to uppercut the unfortunate victim on the way down. At the same time, he’s getting a good look about the man, turning his head to quip a slurred question to Yagra - “Any idea why these fools are attacking you?”
Action - Quarterstaff Attack.
Bonus Action - fist to the jaw.
Attack: 15 Damage: 10
Attack: 16 Damage: 6
When the commotion between the tattooed men and the orc began, he at first thought nothing of it. When it seemed to grow into a larger affair, Bruvir was struck with an idea: if he could keep this fight from breaking out into an all out brawl, perhaps Duran would lessen his debts or forget them entirely. Hopping off his chair and grabbing the smaller of his two weapons, the still massive warhammer with the crashing wave pommel, he made his way towards the fray; along the way giving a particularly sharp looking at one(s) who had laughed at him a few minutes before.
(OCC: If any of the people he glared at snickered or said something derisive to him as he walked by, ignore everything below as he'll immediately begin a fight with them instead, furniture repayment be damned XD)
Arriving at the back of he crowd, he forcefully pushed his way through to the center, using his hammer roughly to shove folks out of the way as he grumbled to himself. Arriving at the center, he saw the scene unfold and announced in booming, yet squeaky voice "What is the meaning of this?!? Whatever your quarrel is, take it elsewhere." Hopefully Duran heard that... he thought to himself as he hefted his warhammer onto his shoulder in an intimidating manner and waited to see how everyone responded.
Zoldier’s Curse of the Crimson Throne: DM/ Redii || Zoldier's Strange Aeon's: DM
PSSH! PWACK!
On her tippy toes on top of a table, Kasha danced and cast prestidigitation, sprinkling nature glitter everywhere each time one of her new friends made a successful attack against the bald men attacking Yarga - who was definitely losing.
"YOU get a sock in the face! YOU get a sock in the face! YOU get a sock in the face!"
Resist Intimidation: 6
The bandits freeze, looking at Bruvir.
When the fight started Feliara didn't even move, she simply grabbed her lyre and started playing some tunes. The mix of music and chaos was the perfect description for magic, it didn't make sense but everyone was fine with it. A few notes more and she was almost ready, her fingers only had to pluck two or three cords before her melody was complete. A few orange leaves appeared around her before a gust of wind threw them in the direction of Sylviar. Each one disintegrated in contact with the person who was following, enchanting his strikes with Eladrin magic.
She wasn't done, she had an ace up her sleeve. With a smug smile, she looked towards that odd fella as she concentrated her magic. Tickling started to rise up her throat as she viciously mocked the human. Her words, sharp as knives, flew accompanied of some illusory arrows towards the human.
"You're like the plague, except a plague can kill. Go back with your leader and suck one of it's tentacles"
Sadly, she was so concentrated on playing her lyre that she didn't notice that those men freezed when the small thing spoke. Maybe she prolongued the fight, but if those fell unconcious they would surely learn their lesson.
Discord: Vápni Jhonson - Half Orc Fey Wanderer -- Hiritos // Sun-Scales - Dragonborn Armorer -- The Breath of the Machine // Acidia Lavenus - Cabal -- Mass Effect: Last Hope
Umbría: Lena - Oni Abyssal Blodrager -- Journey to the West (Pathfinder 1e) // Karzar "Sawtooth" - Soldier -- When Stars Fall (Starfinder)
Face to Face: DM -- Deepspace & Dragons // Kar'Val - Dragonborn Draconic Sorcerer // Aust Liadon - Summoner --Muntsa's Draconic Adventure
"Well...? Did I stutter? Take your fight elsewhere or prepare to regret that decision for the rest of your days. " Bruvir's tone made it clear he was not going to tell them again.
Zoldier’s Curse of the Crimson Throne: DM/ Redii || Zoldier's Strange Aeon's: DM