Tales From The Old Bald One-Eyed Salty Red Dog Tavern! (chapter 1, now closed)

There's do-in's a-transpirin' on the docks!

Ranti pulls out and polishes his badge, making not-so-subtle gestures towards his sharp, shiny longsword. To this, the ruffians cast nervous looks at each other, but the leader, while obviously impressed with the badge, manages to remain calm and composed. He takes the tiniest of steps back but crosses his arms defiantly as Ranti begins to speak.

"My my my, you-"

WHAMMO!!!!

Like a lightning bolt, Desert's fist comes flying out of nowhere, smashing in the face of the ruffian's leader, sending him flying back a ways and would have knocked him down if it hadn't have been for a nearby crate. The look of STUNned (see what I did there) surprise on the leader's face is further augmented by the conspicuous absence of his two front teeth.

"Awww, you've gone and done it now, boyo," one of the larger and stinkier ruffians says. "Nobody messes with Dockside Dan!"

As if on cue, the ruffians all pull out well-worn belaying pins and start advancing on you, snapping their fingers in unison for some strange reason. They leave their leader where he stands, unable to move.

Acting quickly, K steps back and motions Richard forward to attack. She chants a string of arcane words, and the unseen power is palpable as the leader suddenly screams out, "AIIGGHH!! I CAN'T SEE!!!"

Richard steps forward with surprising speed and, drawing a finely crafted hand-and-a-half sword from beneath his cloak, calmly and quickly buries the business end of it in the closest villian (2), who doesn't seem to like that at all. He screams in pain, but still takes a swing at Richard which lands squarely with a thud, but Richard only barely reacts.

Ranti quickly draws that very nice, very sharp longsword of his and, amazingly enough, pulls his rather fashionable bandana down over his eyes. Brandishing it with a flair (of course), he executes a rather deft lunge to his left, surprising (yet relieving) the brigand directly in front of him (4), as well as surprising (yet stabbing) the brigand that already had a sword in him (2). He seems to like this sword only half as much as the other, and screams even louder, but a little more gurgly this time.

Dockside Dan continues to stand, leaning wearily up against the crate, looking around yet unable to see anything.

The shortest and fattest of the dockside ruffians (5) steps forward a bit and takes a swipe at Richard, but his feeble attempt glances off the warrior's armored frame.

Desert, intently watching the others engage in battle, figures he ought to, too, and follows suit. He unleashes a blinding flurry of hands, feet, elbows, and knees, all but one of which connect with the tough in front of him (3). The would-be assailant drops his makeshift club and falls to his knees, but seems to have caught himself at the last minute.

Another thug (4) takes a swipe at Ranti, but the agile elf ducks and weaves out of the way with ease, despite the blindfold.

The thug on his knees gropes feebly on the ground for his belaying pin. He picks it up, but his grip is tenuous at best.

=====================

OOC: Here's the scene at the beginning of the next round. Please excuse the crudeness of this map, but Dunjinni's on my home pc.
(Click for bigness)


Richard takes 2 points of damage.

Actions for the next round?

Just another quick reminder, I'll be offline from this Saturday to the next Sunday. I might be able to post, but don't count on it. I'll pick things back up when I return.
 

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Sherriff Bill: Gentleman and Scholar

Gray Shade said:
Berserker Bill turns to the woman, and gently (or strongly, if necessary) helps her back to her feet and back out the door. "Always a pleasure, Madam Pisspot, but we have the Duke's business to discuss. Important matters. You understand." Once that's done . . .

(OOC: do I have any problems or do I get her out of the room?)

The woman is, simply, appalled that you, a scruffy commoner, has DARED to lay your hands on her. She's too suprised and appalled to do anything about it, though, and cries out with a "Well, I NEVER!" and looks to the Captain for help. The Captain seems equally appalled - so much so, he's simply frozen in place. He can't believe what's happening.

You manage to scoot her out the door, however, and, shutting it firmly behind you, you turn back to the Captain. He's turned white as a ghost, which only accents the red wine that's been splashed all over him. "Tha... Tha... Tha... Mayor's wife... That's... The... Ooooooohhh!" He faints dead away yet again, and falls with a thump to the floor.
 



Seeing the Captain faint dead away . . . again . . . Berserker Bill drops into a deep reflection.

Why's he bothering? This is an awful lot of work just to get that Orb. Heck, it's a lot of work just to get out of this little town. He wonders what his compatriots are doing at that moment. Are they taking their newly appointed positions of responsibility seriously? Are they using the power and authority which they have been vested to uphold the laws of the Dukedom and maintain proper order among the citizenry? He wonders . . . and decides: no. Nope, they're probably considering a rampage, attacking the locals in a back alley brawl somewhere with strange pirate/West Side Story half-breeds, spattering their new fineries in the blood of the untried. Polishing their badges and assuming that they are not only law enforcement agents, but judiciaries and executionaries (?) as well.

. . .

With a shrug, he comes out of the deep reflection and considers feeding the Captain to goblins just to stop his constant fainting.

He gives the Captain a bit of a kick and says, his patience wearing quite thin, "My patience is wearing quite thin. Wake up, moron. Where's Dudley?" He removes the paper that the Captain gave him to deliver to Rumpchunk and, if he can get Phyfe to wake up, holds the paper in front of him. Once Phyfe has come to his senses, somewhat, anyway, Berserker Bill touches the side of his nose and says, "What would the butcher do to you if he found out that his papers disapeared while in your care?" He quickly gives him a little smack to try to keep him conscious. "Stay with me." He gives the papers a little tear and finishes, "It's all right, Phyfe. I'm not going to hurt you. I'm just looking for Dudley, and I'm not going to hurt him either. It's to help the Duke. Don't you want to help the Duke? And yourself? Just tell me where he is, and you'll get your papers back and I'll walk out and you can have a little wine and forget all about me and Rumpchunk'll get his papers and everyone will be happy." He then wonders how long it takes for the DT's to kick in. He looks at the morning sun and decides he doesn't want to waste the day waiting for the Captain to go into withdrawls. If this doesn't work, he wonders if the goblins would maybe trade free passage to the Orb's underground lair in exchange for the Captian. Of course, the orb's no good without the Paladin. He grows more impatient and shakes Phyfe, THE RAGE growing within him.
 

The Plot Thickens

Once again the door opens. A figure encased in armor stands in the doorway. His helmet is shaped in the form of a demon-dog, and foul-smelling smoke emenates from the snout. A deep red glow can be seen from the inside.

The aparition stares at you. It looks from the near-unconcious captain to the deputy. At the sight of the wine-drenched captain being held hostage he tenses, and the air trembles as he shows signs of rising anger.

The figure raises his arm, and points at the sheriff.
"You. What do you have to say for yourself. There is no excuse for this henious crime."

He bends over and grabs the bottle of wine. he lifts irt and studies the bottle.

" Like I thought. Fifteen year old Pinot Noir. The gods only know how this insignificant little person got his hands on it."

He lifts his visor and removes the object responsible for the foul stench from his lips. He then takes a good mouthfull straight from the bottle. He swirls it around in hisd mouth, then swallows. By the looks of him, he's a half-orc, and quite a good looking one as well.

"Mmmmmmh. Like the angels of the good lord of retribution himself pissing on your tongue. Now if you could point me towards Sheriff Bill I'll leave you with whatever business you have with this gentlemen. I myself prefer women, and I pride myself in the fact that I do not have to tie them up first, but every men to his own pleasures, I say."
 

Visibly shaken by the proximity of the ruffian(5), K very carefully backs up "NO Richard, Get the short fat one" pointing at ruffian(5)

OOC:[sblock] withdraw,to avoid AoO, 5ft to behind Ranti[/sblock]
 

The captain slowly regains conciousness, and ever so gently opens his eyes only to see the cause of all his current troubles, that accursed "Sherriff", standing over him. He starts to cringe, but something about this man's demeanor stops him... The deep state of repose and reflection on his face is calming, almost soothing. The Captain thinks for a moment, then decides he's not so bad after all. He starts to sit up -

<KICK> "My patience is wearing quite thin. Wake up, moron. Where's Dudley?"

"Ack! I told you! Dudley's not here! No one's seen him for weeks!"

"What would the butcher do to you if he found out that his papers disapeared while in your care?" <SMACK> "Stay with me." <Tears paper> "It's all right, Phyfe. I'm not going to hurt you. I'm just looking for Dudley, and I'm not going to hurt him either. It's to help the Duke. Don't you want to help the Duke? And yourself? Just tell me where he is, and you'll get your papers back and I'll walk out and you can have a little wine and forget all about me and Rumpchunk'll get his papers and everyone will be happy."

The captain has clearly had all he can take and handles it in the only way a man of his character can. No, not that way, thankfully. This way: He begins to cry. And cry he does. Cry, cry, cry, cry. Like a wee little babe, he does.

In between sobs he manages to say, "<huh-UNH huh huh-UNH> Tha-that's your re-re-re-waaaaaaAAARRD AAAAAWWWWW HOOOOooooo hoo hoo hoo hoo hoooooo...." He points at the paper the Sherriff has been currently subjecting to torture, upon which is written, This certificate entitles the bearer to his or her choice of five pounds of cured meats.

The captain crawls over into the corner and continues to sob uncontrollably. Evidently this was a long time coming.
 

The Plot Sickens

DrZombie said:
Once again the door opens. A figure encased in armor stands in the doorway. His helmet is shaped in the form of a demon-dog, and foul-smelling smoke emenates from the snout. A deep red glow can be seen from the inside.

In the hallway behind this terror-inducing figure comes a quick "Aaaaiiiiieeeee..." and the dainty body of a well-dressed woman falls to the ground with a delicate THUD...
 


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