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

[LogicsFate]

Giving out a cry that seems almost, Warrior Princess in nature, and with a look of pure malice in her eyes, K begins to run

[sblock] running jumping tackle! (Stats, actions, those mean nothing to me) followed by chocking of the individual. taking care to bang the gentleman's head against the ground, (for the added effect), maybe even a punch or two(for the variety)[/sblock]

 

[Wystan]

Berserker Bill snaps his head up and looks out into the crowd, trying to find the one who threw the squash. "Who threw that? Don't you throw your crap at our elf! What's wrong with you?" He clucks his tongue and bats at the crap on Ranti's leg. Under his breath he mutters, "and they call ME the Barbarian." Standing back at his fully average height, he gives a mean look at the crowd and shoos at them with is hands. "Shoo! Go on. Get back to your homes. This is your last warning to disperse this illegal gathering with intent to lynch. If you persist in your defiance in the face of hitherto passive legal enforcement, you will be battered about the head, neck and kidney with no guarantee of, or thought given to, your survival."

I pull down the blindfold and pull my Longsword

"The foul individual that threw rotten vegetables at me during my recitation of the Book of Bander-Snatch needs be taught a lesson. I dare him, her, or their champion to a fight. One on one, mano e mano or mano e womano. I will slay you and use your hair as a very small carpet."

I turn to where the sheriff should be...

"I need you to police the others, as I start to give the foul miscreant a beating they may feel the need to intercede, and I would hate to have to kill them all. Really, throwing the forbidden item during a recitation of the Book of Tiddley-Winks is a horrid offense. They will surely burn in the firey kiln furnace of Potter, the patron god of poorly written fantasy."

I turn back towards where the crowd was (and most likely no longer is)

"Do none of you dare face me? I hear running away, is that a sign that you aquiesce to my greatness? You are all heathens and may face the firey wrath of Humbitty-Hammbitty the great devourer/prophet of Namby-Pamby, patron god of well-endo...well-meaning Elves everywhere. I fear that if anything like this occurs again we will be forced to torch this burg back to the morass that it sprouted from."

[sblock]Not actually following any diety, Ranti prefers to engineer them as he goes. Sort of like the faen from Arcana Evolved, but with less belief in their existance.[/sblock]

 

[Gray Shade]

Berserker Bill lowers a cautious and friendly hand on Ranti's shoulder and says, "Calm yourself, friend. You have scared them all away. Let the fires of your fury cool, as cowards and bullies are beneath our contempt, at least when they aren't here." He gives a final shoo at Quagmire.

"Well," he says brushing the dust from his hands. "That's that. Let's get going then." To his old friends he adds, "This is Gruaamsh Skullcleaver, the newest addition to our party. He's huge and imposing and quite pious." To Gruaamsh he says, "This is the rest of the party. They are quite skillfull and righteous. Ranti (Wystan), the most feared Elven swordsman to fight blindfolded; K (Logicsfate), the beautiful and deadly, and her powerful companion Richard; and finally Desert (Ranger Rick), the . . . that guy."

 

[Wystan]

Berserker Bill lowers a cautious and friendly hand on Ranti's shoulder and says, "Calm yourself, friend. You have scared them all away. Let the fires of your fury cool, as cowards and bullies are beneath our contempt, at least when they aren't here." He gives a final shoo at Quagmire.

"Well," he says brushing the dust from his hands. "That's that. Let's get going then." To his old friends he adds, "This is Gruaamsh Skullcleaver, the newest addition to our party. He's huge and imposing and quite pious." To Gruaamsh he says, "This is the rest of the party. They are quite skillfull and righteous. Ranti (Wystan), the most feared Elven swordsman to fight blindfolded; K (Logicsfate), the beautiful and deadly, and her powerful companion Richard; and finally Desert (Ranger Rick), the . . . that guy."

I raise my blindfold...

"Cowards and miscreants the lot of them. And Hello our fine lage non-color co-ordinated new friend. Now where will I pull a matching nicely co-ordinated outfit for you from? If only we had that guy that liked to read books still I could take his and modify them for you. Mayhaps the seamstress would be willing to do a rush job to keep the co-ordination and look-a-likeness running. I mean it was easy to tell we were together before, but now we are more like a mismatched set of dinnerware that you would not set out before your guests. It molders in the pantry decrying the day that it was damaged.

I look the new addition up and down....

"I guess we could also try to aquire some paint and color match the very impressive armor that you seem to be wearing. Then the evil folks that we need to smite in the name of Doctir-Seeous will know that we are working together and mean business. Well, I will keep an eye open for other options as well."

 

[Lazlow]

Giving out a cry that seems almost, Warrior Princess in nature, and with a look of pure malice in her eyes, K begins to run...

...And run she does! Straight at the poor individual whose mob-mates left him stranded to feel this slighted woman's vengeance and fuuuuurious anger. He quivers, but gives a last ditch effort to charm the girl.

"Aw, come on now baby, I didn't meOOOFFFF"

With no regard for her own person [or stats, tee hee], K makes a flying leap at the lecherous lad, clearing at the very least the last eight feet between them, and tackles him to the ground with a thud, literally knocking him out of his boots. In an instant, she is a blur of whacking fists and kicking feet (and those boots ain't chopped liver, either). Grabbing both of his ears, she smashes his head on the ground like a ripe melon. A quick punch to the jaw and a splash of red spurts onto the ground. A knee in the groin sends him shooting up to try and recover from the low blow, but that only allows another jab, this time from the left, which you could swear sent his head spinning all the way around on his neck.

Clearly, she did not appreciate the epithet.

Another knee, this time to the stomach, and K stands up to dust herself off, turning and starting to walk away as the pummeled fellow writhes in agony on the ground. Oh, but what's this? Oh nooo, a flying elbow to the throat! Ooooo, that's gotta hurt. She - she's flipping him over, and - OH NO, not he sleeper hold! He'll be hard-pressed to get outta that one folks. Wait, what is- she's leaning back, grabs his foot and brings it up - you'll never believe this, folks, she's pulling his foot up behind him, right next to his ear? This is some kind of weird pretzel hold, and boy, does it look painful! Boy o boy, folks, this is one little lady you do NOT want to mess with. What we've seen here today is one of the most ama- OH MY GOODNESS GRACIOUS SHE'S BITTEN ONE OF HIS TOES OFF!! SHE'S BITTEN IT CLEAN OFF!!! Ladies and gentlemen in all my days of fantasy fight commentating have I never seen such a display of ferocity! And now she's - she's - I can't believe it, she's feeding him his own toe!! She has taken the removed toe and has shoved it in his mouth, folks, and appears to be trying to force him to swallow it! Oh, the humanity!

 

[Lazlow]

I raise my blindfold...

"Cowards and miscreants the lot of them. And Hello our fine lage non-color co-ordinated new friend. Now where will I pull a matching nicely co-ordinated outfit for you from? If only we had that guy that liked to read books still I could take his and modify them for you. Mayhaps the seamstress would be willing to do a rush job to keep the co-ordination and look-a-likeness running. I mean it was easy to tell we were together before, but now we are more like a mismatched set of dinnerware that you would not set out before your guests. It molders in the pantry decrying the day that it was damaged.

I look the new addition up and down....

"I guess we could also try to aquire some paint and color match the very impressive armor that you seem to be wearing. Then the evil folks that we need to smite in the name of Doctir-Seeous will know that we are working together and mean business. Well, I will keep an eye open for other options as well."

As you conclude, you stand for a moment, examining your new companion. Suddenly, your keen eye for clothes-fitting tells you that, by an amazing stroke of luck, The Speaker's measurements are almost exactly the same as Gruammsh's, save for a paltry hem here and there that you could easily adjust in a moment's time.

What an incredible co-incidence...

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

OOC: Dr Z, did I mention that this team has color-coordinated outfits? No? I didn't mention the, uh... The clothes... Situation...? No?

 

[Gray Shade]

Berserker Bill is apauled. Shocked. SHOCKED, I say! at the ferocity of K's attack.

. . . seriously. He cannot move as she mangles the man, except the occasional twitch as a bone cracks or a gritting of the teeth as the moans of despair reach his ears. Finally, he has to lower his head and cover his eyes.

(OOC: That's some good fight commentatin', Lou!)

 

[LogicsFate]

K sits for a moment, breathing heavily. Even while delevering an occasional right to the left jaw, she becomes lost in thought...

[sblock] How much blood can one man drink before he becomes sick? Does it matter if it's his own?[/sblock]

 

[Lazlow]

K sits for a moment, breathing heavily. Even while delevering an occasional right to the left jaw, she becomes lost in thought...

[sblock] How much blood can one man drink before he becomes sick? Does it matter if it's his own?[/sblock]

A valid question, and one that no doubt deserves further investigation. But, alas, you remember that you do, indeed, have a job at hand, and upon further reflection you feel that such scientific inquiry is best left to pursue at a later date.

You notice that the man is indubitably and most thoroughly thrashed, well past the point of unconciousness (though he is still breathing - barely).

 

[LogicsFate]

Standing and dusting her self off again, K looks to speak, but first she delivers one last kick to the ribs for good measure.

"Alright, what's next?" Grinning ear to ear, seemingly oblivious of any looks of shock or awe "O, yes that's right" K steps over her...friend? enemy? random guy and continues on to Richard who has been graciously finishing up the grave. Going to step two of hasty grave management Richard and she begins rolling the bodies in the grave