[ic] nameless II: the seventh from seven

[Thomas Hobbes]

"Son, a word of advice, never fight mad. But if you think that you can put those on me, your welcome to try."

"I'm not inclined to take advice from someone who bullies peasants," Cromwell growls softly. He then raises his voice. "Ubersaxe Rothweil, please have you and your men turn over any weapons you may have to my men. Failure to do so will be considered resisting arrest." He gives them three seconds before drawing a sap* from his belt. "Now, Ubersaxe." It's a small leather sack filled with sand, and used to subdue recalcitrant criminals.

Failing compliance, Cromwell moves forward to place the manacles on the man in front of him, full expecting to have to beat him into unconciousness. If he was calm, he might wonder whether his squad is ready to back him up, but his vision, like his mind, has narrowed to the man in front of him. You stand in defiance of the law, justice, and Kettenek, mercenary. Your days of pillage end here.

Could I have this be the larger, more appropriate truncheon that has appeared in some sourcebooks? It's a stick you beat people with. As per a sap, but one-handed rather than light and 1d8 damage.

 

[Argent Silvermage]

Oscar looks from his commander to the mercenary and back again. This could be more trouble than it's worth. he thinks. As Cromwell attempts to capture Ubersaxe Oscar will move to get inbetwen The barbarian and his men. "Don't even think about moving. You will not harm innocents when the Seventh is around."

 

[Nac Mac Feegle]

If any of the other mercenaries starts moving towards the leader, Craddoc will move to interpose himself, saying:

"Ah'm thinkin that this is bein' a matter ye should nay interfere with, lads."

 

[Velmont]

Hewik walk back to the Inn, happy to know a fresh bed is waiting him there...

OOC: Just let me know when he will arrive at the Inn

 

[doghead]

ooc: First my connection was denied, then I got error messages saying I could only post once every 30 seconds. Once every 30 seconds? Once full stop would have been nice. Luckily I saved the text.

Velmont. Feel free to bring Hewik back at any time now.

There is a shout from the other table. "Punch his lights out Seargent!". Its followed by a brief shoving match which ends leaving the two groups facing off over a space of about 4 or 5 feet.

There is a general shuffling of feet and alot of glancing around as the Seventh make their stand.

Meanwhile, on the table at which the Bremen where originally sitting, the halfling has climbed to his feet. Unlike the others, he is armed (with a shortsword) and wears armour (studded leather).

Cromwell steps up level with the end of the table. The Ubersaxe frowns slightly, then says, "Where are you from son?"

ooc: For this encounter, leave it as is.

A sap does 1d6, as much as a club does, but its non-lethal damage as its filled with sand or some such. A hard truncheon would be pretty much just a club, which would deal lethal damage. I'm not sure how you could have a larger, hard weapon dealing only non-lethal damage. Are their any rules for using blunt weapons to deal only non-lethal damage? Would be a good feat for Watchmen: "Geddown and Staydown" - the character may use any blunt (Bludgeoning) weapons to deal non-leathal damage. Actually, it make more sence to me to say any non-weighted blunt weapons (clubs and staffs) all deal non-lethal damage.

 

[Thomas Hobbes]

"I was raised at the Kettenek monastary of Saint Richard. Your weapons, Ubersaxe." Without turning his head (his eyes are on the Ubersaxe and his attention on the Ubersaxe's knife) he speaks to the Hafling. "Please remain seated, sir." He temper cooling some, allowing him to evaluate the situation more rationally.

 

[doghead]

The Ubersaxe looks around the room, then back to Cromwell.

"What do you think Goranson?"

The remaining man slouching at the Bremen's table replies. "I don't reccon its worth giving up a night in a bed with clean sheets for."

ooc: whoops forgot about Goranson. A recap - there are four over at the craftsmen's table (along with the three craftsmen), Goranson and the hafling are still at the Bremen's table.

The Ubersaxe considers Gpranson words for a moment then nods to himself. He pulls out his belt knife and flips it onto the table. "What do you think Corperal. Would an apology be be enough to end this?"

 

[Velmont]

The door of the Inn is open and a kid enter.

"Hey Cromwell" say Hewik, who close the door behind him. "sorry about..." he looks around him. "Maybe I should come back later?" he say on a doubting tone, not sure of what is happening.

 

[Thomas Hobbes]

Cromwell stands still for a moment. Control your emotions. Do not let them get in the way of Justice. His eyes flick to the craftsman. "Apologize to them, not to me," he says finally, relaxing his stance a bit. "If they are willing to let this pass... then so am I." He says the last reluctantly. "An apology," he adds, probably needlessly, "Will not be sufficient next time."

 

[doghead]

The Ubersaxe shrugs, then turns to the locals crowded against the far wall.

"I, on behalf of my saxe, apologise for being here. You have my word that we will do everything in our power to," he glaces around the room, "get back to somewhere worth being as soon as is humanly possible. In the meantime, perhaps, you will share a drink with us."

One of the craftsmen makes to say something in response but is lost in a grunt of surprise. Instead it is another who speaks up. A pinched man with a thin bitter face. The oldest of the three. "There are a number of places I would rather be as well Ubersaxe.

"So, I'll join you in that drink." Ignoring the mutters from his companions he steps back to the table and calles over the tavern keep. "Some of the good stuff ... one the gentlemen over there. And some for any of the Seventh who want it, on me."

Slowly, everyone drifts back to their tables, the tavern keep takes orders and in the fullness of time ale is produced.