Fight:Things sane people shouldn't do number 57: pickpocket a Drow Patron

From HollowWiki

Background

What started as a little 'harmless' pickpocketing developed into a massive brawl which once again shattered the ever-fragile peace of Kelay Tavern.


It can be said, strictly speaking, that this time Kuzial did -not- start it, although witnesses may beg to differ.


Setting


Built and rebuilt, torn apart and set like stubborn bone, this tavern is the pinnacle of Hollow's entirety, wrought around the premise of peace, equality, and consummate amity. And of course, the old place had seen all of the three, but so much more. Dire markings of claw and steel cut deep into wall panels and floorboards. Set against the land's usual motif of destruction are signs of comfort. Twisting shadows and smoothing out a careful blanket of light with soft, quaint fires, a candelabra dangles down by thick cords, gripping the circular holder. Each twists up, converging upon the center, where they snake about one another and form a thick, secure anchor to Kelay Tavern's high, accommodating ceiling. The candelabra rattle now and again from the inn patrons overhead, pouring down globs of wax to the center of the room, which is wide and unobstructed. Cheaply carpentered tables and chairs grow outward around the bare dancing area, keeping to the rounded theme, and also keeping to a dwarven barkeep's avariciously born taste for 'economical' furniture. Hardly any expense has been wasted on the actual upkeep of the public center though, as can be garnered from the smell of deep pine, rich tobacco, and even richer spirits. Stairs twist away dimly near the high bar. And atop that side rests the inn logs, quill, and ink. This establishment's fine keeper, Mesthak, can be seen smiling out from his post at the bar, straight across to the room's always crackling stone-wrought hearth. Behind him, atop lofty shelves, sits an array of dark, amber, and clear liquids. Food smells waft from somewhere near at hand. A carefully printed and hung sign details the purchasable items here in the place of merriment, loss, laughter, and life. Also, tucked into a corner near one of two windows closest to the tavern doorway is a thickly papered bulletin board. A sign has been added next to the board that reads, 'The management requires patrons be fully inebriated at all times and that no curing spells be performed in this tavern-Thank you'.



To catch a thief

Kuzial stalks into the room, his face twisted into a vicious mask of rage. This is his happy face; he did, after all, recently kill someone.


Nora continues smiling slightly as she cleans her nails

Nora sighs as she looks around the room with a bored expression


Kuzial said to Nora, "I can cut that bored expression off your face, if you'd like."


Nora smiles slightly as she laughs "Don't worry...not looking for a fight...

Nora looks at her nails sighing "Just a good pint of blood...or Ale..."


Tysinni had been quietly dozing at her table in the corner when she 'felt' a tittering going through the tavern crowd. Looking up, she studies the Drow from under the brim of her hat, a frown on her face as she recognized him. It was the one that killed Cornelius, now wasn't it? A quick look over his figure and the thief starts calculating the risks of making him a fool.


Nora looks over at a clumsy barmaid and smiles slightly with a dark look in her eye

Nora says slightly "This is going to be fun..."

Nora watches as the barmaid clumsilly walks over to her, carrying a large, silver platter filled with different drinks, trying not to spill it. She is wearing a brown dress that goes down to about her knees as she wobbles. She has dark brown hair and eyes and a nervous face


Kuzial seems oblivious of Tysinni, though whether or not he is isn't too clear. He glares at those gathered with contemptuous arrogance written over his angular face. At his side rests his two fine swords, and now strapped to his back is the stolen katana, 'Shattered Dream'. His newest acquisition. He makes his way to the board, his stride woven with languid grace that betrays him to be a master swordsman. It is almost as if he's tempting someone to have a go at him... his back, so open...


Nora holds up a hand as the barmaid clumsily walks over to her "Y-Yes, M-M-Miss?" she stutters "W-W-What c-can I g-g-get y-you?"


Nymh yawns and stretches on a beam overhead the normal fanfare of the crowd. Sinnea had finally returned, and lingered at his side, staring off at some inanimate object or another.


Nora looks into the barmaids eyes deeply as her eyes glow with an almost dark aura. "One pint of Ale."

Nora laughs slightly as the Barmaid lets out a slight 'Eep' as she nods, hurrying off. Nora laughs as she does so. She slams her fist on the table as she walks away, frightening the girl, causing her to almost drop her drinks "and STEP on it!"


Nymh decided to play some of his music to pass the time, drawing strings from forearm to bicep, and plucking at them with his finger talon. He played a serene melody, that was mostly drowned out by the noise below, but instilled a sense of calm and peace in those with keen enough senses to hear it. Like water trickling down dark rocks, in some hidden stream...


Nora goes back to picking the red crusty stuff from her nails

Nora continues waiting, but listens as she hears a slight sound of melodious music echoing ever so quietly through the tavern


Tysinni slowly slips from her seat and into the shadowed recesses of tavern walls. Her dark leathers and skill were enough to ensure that she would melt from sight, unseen to all but the most shrewd observers. Slowly making her way around the room, the thief will keep her eyes locked on target, the over proud back of a murderous Drow. Kuzial was just standing there, looking so inviting for a thief or would-be assassin to take their shot. But Ty was smarter than that. Slowly, sticking to the shadows and darkness, she'd creep along, getting closer and closer by the second.


Nora smiles as she leans back in her chair. "mmm...beautiful..."

Nora sighs as the vampire looks through her bags


Athiyk manages her way in not too long after Kuzial. She does not move with the same grace as the cultured drow, though she has her own grace about her, the ease of a hunter's movements, the way one who is accustomed to moving silently through a forest moves. Much like her last foray into the alehouse, she avoids physical contact with those around her, hissing at any who brush against her, her hands never straying to far from the onyx axe and mace at her hips. Always does she mutter to herself in her strange dialect of drowish, few words likely to be understood by any who speak the proper form of the language. So far, she's oblivious to the male who resides in the tavern and ignoring what others she does see, opting instead for meandering as she had her previous visit. What in the hell does she want with the tavern?


Nymh continued the melody, a benign source of serendipity. He was laying on his back playing, staring up at the wooden ceiling above, lost in reminiscence.


Nora looks up to the rafter and spies the source of the sound.

Nora tell to Nymh such a beautiful piece of music...I'm impressed...


Kuzial lets a twitch form under his eye as his keen hearing picks up on Nymh's quiet playing, the soothing music offensive to the ears of a drow who can only find beauty in agony, joy in others' sorrow. When he speaks in his unconsciously euphonious voice there is an undercurrent of primal anger in it, "Stop that music, or die." He turns to face the pixie properly, his hands coming to rest on the hilts of his two swords. Again, it is unclear of whether or not he notices the sly thief making her way closer, for he makes no noticeable gesture to show she's been seen. As Athiyk makes her entrance, the drow snaps his gaze to the woman. There is a hint of ambiguity about his expression, yet all her offers her is a slight nod; neither betraying respect or hatred, he would see who she is before he decided which way to kill her.


Nymh peers off to the side and below, still on his back, at the woman who had complimented him. He gave her a sly smile, and a wink with his one good eye... the other covered in a dark cloth now. "Thank you, m'lady," He whispers to her, only as audible as the sounds he plays. He leaned back and continued the mostly overlooked serenade.


Nora looks at the drow and sighs as she speaks again to the one on the rafters "why not come down and have a drink?"

Nora the vampire smiles evilly as the clumsy barmaid stumbles back placing a mug of ale on the table in front of the vampire

Nora looks at the barmaid as her blue eyes suddenly gain a Dark aura. "Thank you...I'll pay you later..."


Tysinni remains quiet, focusing completely on her mark. A slight roll of her eyes is the only indication that she had heard his threats to poor little Nymh. Even if the leprechaun thought she was crazy, she quite liked him. And wanted his treasure. But back to the matter at hand....Several more slow, quiet steps and she'd be almost within touching distance. Pausing, she takes a couple of long seconds to gather herself, working hard to remain unnoticed.


Athiyk narrows her eyes ever so slightly as she spies the male's nod. He would dare address her so openly, as though they are equals, or a worse sin, that he is her better?! That has her lip curling back. She mutters to herself about the lack of proper respect given by males of her kind these days, but chances are not a word of it is understandable save two: males and respect. It all just makes her hands twitch towards her weapons, however. As of yet, though, she does not make a commotion...except when a drunk tries to grope her admittedly scantily clad form. Under her loin cloth, no less. That has her whipping out her mace and smashing it over his head. Crack-thunk. Down to the floor the groper goes, his head slightly caved in. Will he get up? Probably not.


Nymh was slightly irked by the drow's harsh tongue, but stopped playing. He was no warrior... the drow could easily kill him here, though if he happened to pursue Nymh, he would meet his end at the whim of one of Nymh's corpse Tearer Trees. Nymh peered down once more at the woman who had complimented him, now asking him to share a drink. He glanced askance at Sinnea, who sat lost in mindless reverie. Shrugging, he hopped down, levitating to the table, and sat cross legged on the far end from Nora. He had a drink in his hand soon after, an underdark berry cordial in a small goblet that he procured and poured with a speed most eyes couldn't follow. The presence of the drow whetted his thirst for the drink. "I do hope the eve finds you well, ma'dam."


Nora looks at the woman and smiles as she raises her mug to the woman's Defense against the crude drunk. she laughs again, smiling

Nora looks up at the man curiously "Is this yours, sir?"


Kuzial snarls at the pixie as he adheres to his command; it seems he is made more angry by Nymh not wanting to challenge him. He would have taken a step closer to the man, before he spies from the corner of his vision the muttering female drow and the fate of the groping man. A pernicious grin forms on his lips, and he decides he will not kill her today. She, at least was not like the regular drow who plague the surface with their stupid morals and sense of duty. And she was quick to mace the groping man. A quick look at him by the dark elf shows he isn't going to be moving for a while, and this causes a parody of laughter to come from the patron; there is no joy in the sound, just a sick and twisted sadistic delight. He still has made no indication he sees Tysinni, even though she is quite close... His focus seems, for the most part, on the scantly clad female...


Nora looks at the two drow and sighs as she takes a few sips from her mug of ale "Ahh...Drow Love..."

Nora leans back in her chair


Nymh turns slightly to peer at the two. "Yes... a more romantic eve for two drow, I could not imagine." A roll of his one good eye has him back to attention on the death knight, who had taken the scent of, breathing as he rarely did to see what he could learn. He knew much of undeath and dark magic, and could see the warrior's poise in her, and knew what she was immediately. It was odd to see a death knight simply wandering around... and she made him think about Cordelia, who was tending to his tree near the xalious mountains. "You seem to be quite enjoying yourself, m'lady." He continued trying to spark a conversation, but was quickly losing interest. She had called to him... and ignored him.


Nora leans her head back on the head of the chair "Well, being a Vampire is hard work, I just thought I might come here for a pint of ale...or blood...and just relax..."


Tysinni was more than a little wary of Kuzial's seemingly instant rage. If the weird grinning and creepy laugh weren't enough, she was pretty sure that any misstep on her part would be the last thing that she did. But, really with the week she had been having, it might be an improvement. So with a seemingly reckless disregard for her own safety, the thief would slowly reach forward, focusing any of her magic that she might still have access to, to keep her hand light and unseen. It was a quick motion, one of long practiced speed and agility with which she'd dart her hand forward and just enough to barely graze his clothing. Her goal was something near his belt, anything to prove that she still had what it took as a thief.


Nymh nodded to her words. "I don't doubt that this will soon be a less than desirous place to relax, however." He had seen Tysinni sneaking up on the drow, pixie senses and all, and was very concerned. It was quite a ways to his nearest tree.


Nora sighs as she continues leaning back on the head of her chair

Nora laughs slightly as she nods "Well, I know when there'll be blood soon..."

Nora the vampire sighs as she takes another gulp from her mug of Ale


Kuzial was keeping his eyes on the female drow when Tysinni's hand barely brushed his clothing, close to his belt. What she'd take from his was a small black feather; a raven's feather, gifted to him by the lady Tenebrae. The moment it is no longer on his person he snaps into motion; a globe of darkness is conjured over himself and the sneaky thief, before he spins to the left, twisting himself rapidly behind her so he can wrap an arm around her throat, the other wrapping around her stomach. His breath would brush against her cheek as he whispers in a voice colder than the grave, "You are mine..." The ominous words would be heard outside the sphere of darkness, though their fate would remain unknown. At least he didn't draw one of his daggers and let the unforgiving language of steel speak for her... He has nefarious plans, and he just go a volunteer.


Tysinni was just about to snatch her hand back and skulk away triumphantly when Kuzial sprung into action. The thief quickly finds herself in a reverse position, no longer the stalker but the caught. She's barely able to utter a squeak of surprise before Kuzial's hands cause her to freeze. Well, jeez, she hadn't actually wanted to die today. Maybe he'd believe she just...tripped? An all-encompassing black blocks out her other senses as she hears his voice, sinister and deep. Belatedly, she'd try to struggle, wondering just what she had gotten herself into.


Nymh, having been on edge already, is well prepared when the globe of darkness shoots up, the drow's nature well analyzed. A pluck of a string plays a note of dissonance, throwing off everybody in the tavern's equilibrium and balance... and another starts a more focused song, one attuned to Tysinni, whom he had known and could specifically attune his music to, a song of harmony and balance. The song would give her unnature focus and agility, a finely tuned sense of things that could be mistaken for precognition in her newfound abilities to maneuver deftly. He hoped it would be enough as he played, and that the single note of dissonance would be time enough for her to escape. On most, it lasted several seconds... on a trained and agile drow, with innate resistance to harmful magic, it would certainly be lesser.


Nora the vampire wobbles slightly in her chair, but otherwise continues to drink her ale, pretending to be oblivious to the fight


Kuzial feels Nymh's insidious magic weave into his mind, shaking his perception for just a moment. At that time Tysinni begun to struggle and with a snarl he lets her go. She could wait. With barely a conscious through the drow dispells his darkness, and by the time it's gone he has two fine weapons held tight in his hands. One, his Penzance Sabre, stolen from the corpse of Cornelius. The other is a finely crafted dagger, laced with vicious poison; a gift from Joliette Thorne. With a snarl of rage he shoots a glare at Tysinni, warning her in a moment if she got involved she would die a painful death, before the psychotic patron of House Stavret steps towards the sitting pixie. "Time... to... die... bug!" Having got practice against Ginger, the patron shifts his style a touch - he erupts into a frenzy of beautiful swordsmanship, his stolen sabre sent through a dizzying array of slashes, yet instead of using the edge of his blade he uses the flat side, making evasion all the harder for the small pixie. If he managed to get close enough, or to strike the man, he would step forward and impale him with the odious dagger, its poison powerful enough to dissolve his insides leaving behind a twisted sack of skin-held slush.

Kuzial gave 1 black feather to Tysinni.


Valentin tromps into the tavern, a dour expression on the butcher's muttonchopped face. The expression grows more disgruntled at the sight of a drow gone bonkers. Seeing Tysinni released from the drow's grasp the butcher curses "Oh f'feck's sake. Bet she picked the wrong blimmin' pocket." Still, he liked the human. Reminded him of one of his apprentice's girls from many years back - full of bite and fire. And she made Muraski's life difficult, which earned her points. The Butcher of Cenril removes his oversized cleaver from its harness and calls out to the drow "Oi, prettyboy elf, who put a bee in your bonnet, eh?". The butcher's shadow shifts, the outline of its head cracked in half by a malevolent grin.


Nora sighs as she rummages through her bags and pulls out a clear vial filled with a red liquid. she sighs as she begins to drink from it. she gulps it down shuddering slightly

Nora says with a shudder "eugh...Spoiled..."


Nymh rolled his one good eye again as the drow erupted, once again, in violence. He was a fool to think catching a pixie in bladed combat would be easy... if it ever happened at all. With a wiggle of finger's too quick for eyes to follow, Nymh replaced his self with a shadow double, one of many simple bard tricks. The real Nymh was on the rafter's again, invisible, and covered from sight below. He waited up above, working tiny magic's to better conceal his scent and sound, and watch event's unfold from a safety net of stealth magic's. He would just use the nearby hole in the wall to escape if the place started blowing up.


Nora sighs as she caps the vial and places it back in her pouch. "Why can't I get some good human blood?"

Nora the vampire looks around as she looks for a victim to drink from


Tysinni increased her struggles, more than a little surprised, but relieved when Kuzial dropped her like a bad habit. Dancing backwards, stolen feather still in her hand, she marvels at the feeling of being able to offer him resistance. Apparently enough that she was able to escape his fiendish clutches. Alright, so it might have something to do with the magic she had felt gripping her, but with so much of the stuff about it was hard to tell for sure. Glancing around, she spots the Drow attacking poor little Nymh and she frowns, wondering just what he wanted from a leprechaun. "Damn bully." The glare she receives from him is almost enough to make her want to run straight out the front doors...and yet. She could take her prize and run, or! She could be a damn fool and try to exact some revenge for her fallen, dandy friend. Vengeance wasn't really her style, but maybe just this once. But not along! Like a crazy, avenging demon, Valentin came into the fray, wielding cleaver like a madman. "Oh, well, this should be fun." Pulling her miniature crossbow from her belt, the thief quickly fired a shot in the Drow's direction, aiming straight for his evil heart.


Nora the vampire sighs as she listens to the fighting going on, however she tunes it out, looking around for a decent snack, maybe a meal. She spies a large old man at the end of a bar, and smiles, spying he's an Elf and stands up. "hmm...Elf blood..."

Fighting for the right to party?

Kuzial slashes his blade through the shadow double, before snarling in rage. God damn pixies and their tricks. With a primal growl he stabs his dagger into the table top, before picking up a chair and hurling it with all his strength at the roof; by more luck than skill it is right where Nymh was hiding. When it strikes the roof it explodes into wooden shards which rain down upon the patrons, but Kuzial ignores them. His attention already shifted to the vampire who dared call him an elf. The dagger in the table is ignored as he slams his Penzance Sabre into its sheathe on his hip and draws from his back his newest weapon, the katana, 'Shattered Dream'. Holding it in both his hands he he takes one step towards the butcher, before Tysinni fires her crossbow. Being more used to that type of weapon than almost anyone, he reacts with customary precision; his blade snapped upwards to deflect the bolt harmlessly to the side... Well, harmlessly to him. It did end up imbedding itself in an innocent patron's face. But that hardly matters to the dark elf. Not when there are people who need killing. "You were warned." Is all he says to Tysinni, before taking his hand off the hilt of his newest weapon long enough to tear the dagger from the table and hurl it directly at her chest. When done, the elf leaps towards Valentin; he feints a wild slash at the man's head as he crosses his legs, before dropping low and executing a horizontal slash directly at the butcher's knees, trying to cut him down to size...


Nora walks over to the young Elf man, smiling as she takes a seat next to him at the empty bar. "You know," she says "Elves aren't usually by themselves...What brings a young handsome man like you here?"

Nora smiles seductively at the Elf man as he looks at her, almost blushing. "umm...well...I s-suppose, I just needed a little time to myself...a-away from the others..."


Ordox is only watching the fray of combat and heated words for a few moments before noticing Kuzial in action. It takes the Shifter a moment, but indeed he does remember the drow. "Hm..." Is the soft emote from Ordox as he reminisces of the fine-looking Dandy that caught his fancy and this brute, Kuzial, who took his life. He waits in the shadows, his form slowly changing as he hides from possibly prying eyes, waiting to make a move should he deem it beneficial to.


Nora continues smiling seductively at the young Elf as she begins to lean towards him "Really?...I need a little time to myself as well...away from all my cousins and brothers and sisters...a Girl needs her space..."


Ranok enters the bar room brawl. His duster swirls in the entry way as the large man fills the doorway momentarily. It might have been made for giants, but he somehow managed to fill a good part. In spirit if not physical form. An eyebrow lifts as...well, a typical night in Kelay erupts before his eyes. He had arrived just in time to see dagger grabbed from the table and thrown at Ty. He steps forward, too late to do anything. He'd have to wait and see how it landed. He strides further into the tavern, going towards Ty first, to assist her if she was hurt or to help make sure she'd stay that way if she wasn't.


Tysinni couldn't be bothered worrying about the poor man's face right now. He looked like he was alive...well, maybe. The thief was already in motion, having not rested once she fired her crossbow, that was a good way to become a target. Which was probably one of the only things that saved her as the dagger, thrown with accuracy from Kuzial come perilously close from lodging into her flesh. Instead, still 'hopped' up on the magical enhance from Nymh, the dagger would hit her, but only slice through flesh before clattering to the floor. The knife had bitten deep into her arm and immediately, Ty is forced to drop her crossbow. Not like she had time to reload it anyways. Cursing, she bends down to grab the dagger, covered with her blood and send it flying back towards Kuz, probably nowhere near as accurate as his throw had been.


Nora continues leaning up against the young, blonde-haired elf as he blushes deeply.


Nymh clears the chair with a jump, wingless as he is, letting himself levitate to the hole... and scuttling outside to make his way home. Tonight was fast becoming a headache... he needed his books.


Nora looks up at the elf as he blushes "umm...M-Miss?...is there something I c-can get y-you?"

Nora pretends to think "Hmm...I don't know...maybe we could go somewhere a little more..." she looks at the man with her stunning blue eyes as she says the last word "...Private..."


Mesdoram takes the nearest available seat; the usually mischievous drow seemingly uninterested with the current situation happening now. The man takes hold of his mug from his bag and fills it with his preferred drink, creating an illusion of a snobby observer.


Nora the Young Male Elf looks down at her blushing nercously but smiling ever so slightly as he nods "umm...y-yes...l-l-lets..."

Nora stands up and slowly walks up the stairs, exagerating ever so slightly the way she walks, as she lures the man to a nearby room in the top of the tavern. The Male Elf follows, almost in a trance...almost...


Valentin wasn't much of an avenging demon, all things considered, as he grunts to Nora while he approaches the drow with unhurried steps "Go t'the Hanging Corpse in Vailrkin, luv, they got blood for all tastes, innit." In the time it took the butcher to say those words, a chair had been flung, weapons sheathed, and a katana drawn. As the drow prepared to hurl a dagger at Tysinni, Valentin halted his movement to stabilise himself - a mountain to meet the drow's expected rushing river. The butcher, a Scleratus of the Necromancer's guild and apprentice to the Magister Letum Leifong, gripped his cleaver in preparation to defend and produced a sequence of grating sibilant syllables, the necromantic incantation oozing out from his lips, starting the process of binding shadow to the cryumbral tides. As the drow comes in the vampiric butcher grimaces at the speed, and steps into the drow's path. The feint, due to the sudden closure of range, would not find itself the space to recover as it clashes against the butcher's mithril cleaver. The butcher's skill with a blade is in the cutting, not the fighting, and the katana would find itself a home in Valentin's shoulder. As the blade bites deeply into his left shoulder, scattering black blood, Valentin finishes the cantatus of shadowice, and an array of shadowy spines erupt from the shadows around them. From the floor, ceiling, fallen chairs and cowering patrons come towards Kuzial promising icy death, and Valentin himself is not spared as two of the spines in that dense cluster pierce his right thigh and left arm to push towards Kuzial, despite his attempt to properly target his sorcerous assault. As the spines pierce him, and hopefully his foe, Valentin finds himself rapidly losing control of the cantatus. For now, though, it holds.


Nora smiles as she enters the room, the elf following as he closes the door behind her. It's only about five minutes before she walks out of the room with a strange red liquid dripping down the side of her mouth. "mmm...Elf blood...a little sweet...with a slight tang...still pretty good though..."

Nora the Vampire walks back down to her table and smiles leaning back in her chair as she leaves the elf upstairs, unconcious, "Glamoured," and a mark with two holes near his neck that looks almost like a bruise.

Nora The vampire sighs as she sweeps her stunning blonde hair back and continues resting at the table with her eyes, almost closed, but ears as sharp as a...well...Bat's...


Kuzial was too focused on Valentin to see the dagger that was thrown at him, though his sense for danger, honed after years of vicious combat, is enough that he at least has some indication of its coming path. But with his blade carving into Valentin, he is left with little choice to block. Instead he shifts himself to the right, taking the throw on the thick of his mailed back. It doesn't break through the chainmail, though it does leave a vicious bruise in its wake. But such things can be ignored for now, there was a-killin' to do. His first strike against the butcher produces a vicious rush of sadistic joy as his blade carves into the arm of the butcher, but it is short lived. For coming at him from many angles are the icy spears of shadow death, summoned by the butcher, Valentin. Kuzial snaps a step back and spins through a beautiful defensive manouevor with his stolen blade, the harsh clash of steel on ice ringing throughout the room. Some are severed, but more than a few tear into his enchanted armor, bruising his flesh while two impale into his body, carving vicious holes that leak precious sanguine vitae from his shoulder and just above his hip. But more than that would be needed to stop the psychotic drow. Nothing but death would keep him from enacting revenge upon the man. With a scream laced with insanity and rage, the patron of House Stavret ignores the threat of further spears as he retracts his blade over his left shoulder before slashing it down at a horizontal swipe at the butcher's collarbone area. The blade's enchantment comes into play, then; the sword woven with insidious illusionary magic makes it seem the blow is coming much earler than it is, perhaps enough to disrupt any attempt at blocking the pernicious strike....


Athiyk has, of course, been here the whole time. Really, she has. And so it is that she's been watching the fight, watching odds stack against the drow - he's a male after all, so naturally she thinks he's an incompetent. A snarl rips from her at the indignity of it all. How uncultured!...says the barbarian woman in a loin cloth. Or thinks, rather. Axe and mace come quickly to hand and she throws herself forward, up a chair and onto a table, literally leaping into the fray. Tysinni, that crazy half elf who spoke like a mentally handicapped person on her last foray into the tavern, is the one who finds herself the immediate target of the uncouth drow, mace coming down much like she has to her previous victims, only to be followed by a sweep from her axe as she spins about. Mace, axe, mace, axe, her spinning pattern repeats as she assaults the half elf.


Nora the Vampire looks over at the Drow and spies that she's almost the only other woman in the tavern besides the bar patrons, and laughs slightly "guess it's guy's night out, I suppose."


Ordox could have sat back all night watching this skirmish take place. With Kuzial preoccupied, though, this presented quite the opportunity for revenge. The stolen legs of the Dandy are quick to action as Cornelius' form sprints out from his shadowy sanctuary, arms of doughy flesh had already been morphed into identical blades. Beginning at the forearm they had slendered and elongated out to the fingertips which have fused together to a sharpened point. Ordox would much rather allow Kuzial the opportunity to see the faux face of his oncoming demise, but instead he opts to use the much more suitable opportunity of surprise. Charging in as quickly and quietly as possible at Kuzial's rear, the right arm is issued first in a lance-like fashion, the hope is that the makeshift blade will prove sharp enough to pierce through the mail. At the same time he allows his left arm-blade to come in at a low sweeping slash to the drow's feet, knowing that it may not cause much damage, though if the blow lands, it will surely be enough to put the drow to the floor.


Nora the Vampire sighs as she crosses her legs looking at a barmaid that walks past her "Barmaid! one cup of Tea! Now!" the Barmaid jumps, but nods clumsily as she hurries to get the tea. Nora smiles as she waits

Nora smiles as she takes the cup of tea from the stumbling bar-maid and slowly sips it, waving her hand, dismissing the barmaid.

Nora sits in her chair as she pulls out a small vial with a red liquid. This vial has what appears to be frost on the outside of it. "ahh...Fresh Blood...nothing like a few drops of blood in your tea..."


Kasyr , despite his empathy warning him that there was some form of tumultous 'event' occuring, is most certainly not expecting the chaos thats' erupted inside Kelay tavern- The kensai momentarily at a loss for the havoc which is currently running rampant. With enough care taken to step into the edifice itself, the vampiric Revenant then simply proceeds to shuffle to one side of the door and casually lean back against the wall. With a twitch of his Calico ears, Kasyr can't help but quietly mumble, "Lead me right into trouble, tu did. But, it's here, es it not?"


Nora sighs as she pours a few drops of blood from her vial into her tea and smiles as she takes a few sips from it."ahh...Blood Tea...I could have used another kind of blood, if I had time..."


Tysinni is slightly pleased that her throw managed to land on the Drow, even if it hadn't done the same sort of damage to Kuzial as it had to her. The blood from the wound on her arm was dropping down the inside of her duster's sleeve, keeping her distracted just enough that she didn't notice Ranok approaching. She did however, notice that strange, dumb female Drow from the day before leaping up on a table in a most magnificent display of dramatic entrance. Throwing herself flat on the ground, the thief barely manages to avoid the mace/axe combo headed for her, hearing the whistle as one weapon passed right by her ear. "What in the seven hells? Crazy, contemptible shrew! This is none of your concern." Still yelling, Ty would start to crawl under a table, trying to get out of sight. Her pace is significantly slowed by the use of only one arm.


Ranok is there in front of Athiyk. He had been right to move towards her, it seems. As the drow makes a beeline for the thief, his sword is slid out of its sheath. The blessed longsword glints faintly in the room as Valentin calls forth necromantic magic in the room. It wouldn't do much more then that, unless he hacked the novice necromancer with it. With a heavy bootstep, he was in the gap and presenting the weapon to parry the axe, and using his thickened armor on his opposite arm to take the mace. The sword would throw off sparks from contact with the axe, and the mace would produce the satisfying thunk of metal meeting metal. His right arm doesn't bleed, but it will make one hell of a bruise later. However, Ranok does not just stand there with his weapon and arm outstretched, holding the weapons back. Instead, he goes into a swirl of motion, his duster spreading out as the air displacement from his movements catches it. And, perhaps, enticed by a little magic. It made an impressively heroic display. And more importantly, it hide his true frame: the swirl and fit of the duster made him seem larger then he was. Near misses would be more likely to catch only material, not flesh. Ranok pushes off the axe with his sword, to free the blade, and then step in, trying to lock a hand around the mace and restrict it while he went in for a thrust, not a cutting blow. It was the only viable attack, being unable to swing the sword when the axe could come in faster.


Markos shouted, "Yes, chicken, I do want a piece of you!"


Nora the vampire sighs as she hears the group fighting in the tavern. "...I do wish these people would stop fighting...I'm just trying to enjoy a cup of Blood Tea...maybe find a few pints of blood or Ale...and then rest for the night...yet, there seems to be absolutely nothing civillized this evening..."

Nora sighs as she continues drinking her tea, not caring if she offended anyone by her comment


Kasyr said to Nora, "Civility es a relative term, non? There es, after all, a certain etiquette for killing, after all."


Jolie is just lurking, over there, in a shadowy bit . Nobody'd notice, likely.


Valentin grits his teeth as Kuzial danced away to defend, and as the drow dances, so does the cadence of sibilants from Valentin's mouth. The ice piercing the butcher melts as Valentin shifts the cantatus, the verses rustling through the air like snakes writhing against each other. By the time the drow has positioned himself for the assault, the cryumbral tides have been drawn up into a tall inky pavise of sorcerous shadowice, which Valentin causes to shift into the drow's path to himself as he notices a dandy assault the drow, and Athiyk assault Ty. However, sorcerous though Valentin's defense is, that katana's illusory power meant Valentin was slow to move, and when the ice pavise buffets towards Kuzial and forces them apart momentarily, Valentin is left with another cut to his injured left shoulder. Valentin turns his attention partially to Tysinni but sees her defended by Ranok, and with a hoarse dissonant crescendo, causes the cryumbral pavise to encircle him completely as it projects an array of spines from it. For now, the butcher chooses defense as he recovers from his injuries and conserves energy. A pair of large shadowy eyes appear in his reversed ironmaiden of shadowice to allow Valentin to watch on.


Kasyr has been lurking near the door, just waiting and watching for a proper moment to literally cut in, if need be. So, he might have noticed Jolie, maybe.


Jolie would not be surprised if he did, somehow.


Kuzial is pushed by the shadow-ice Valentin reshapes, driving him directly back towards the Cornelius-formed-shape-shifter. His movement is awkward as he briefly loses his balance, causing him to spin enough that the strike doesn't impale directly into his back, instead it tears through his chainmail and scores the freshly burned flesh beneath. With a snarl of pain-filled rage, the dark elf bunches his knees beneath him and leaps into a tight backwards summersault; clearing the shape shifter as he makes the strike at where Kuzial's knees were. The moment he lands on the ground the drow drives his shoulder forward, trying to push Ordox directly into the spike-protected Valentin and render him little more than a pin cushion. His newest blade is retracted for another strike, before an insidious voice whispers into his mind... A warning, a threat... A force beyond him. Scarlet eyes shift to the door where Kasyr so casually stands, and when they have alighted on the kensai the voice cries its warning. Gospel... Grieve, his stolen tome, was adamanent this was not a battle he would want. So Kuzial, with scant regard for his new ally, or anyone else, drops a globe of darkness over the entire room; fuelled as it is by the stolen soul that is incarcerated within his Stavret Insignia. The darkness is absolute, and in that time Kuzial sheathes Shattered Dream on his back, draws two small daggers; one which is hurled at where Ordox was, and the other at the bottom of the table Ty had scampered under. Before he turns and runs to a window. Without regard for his own health the drow leaps through the wood and glass, smashing his way onto Kelay Way. There, with his sight returned, he draws both his swords and waits, ignoring the many gashes to his ebon skin... ready to slay any who exit the tavern...


Nora the vampire sighs as she finishes her tea. she sets the cup on the table as she stands up and stretches "Well...I suppose I should be going..."

Nora begins to walk out of the tavern, her bag at her side, strapped over her shoulder, her waist-length blonde hair swaying slowly behind her

Nora leave's the tavern door, smiling slightly as she looks out at the town. "well...I better be getting back home..."


Ordox emits a hard guttural grunt as he is knocked from behind into the porcupinesque butcher. Still cursing his lack of reaction and misplayed strikes, the shifter has no time to express them as the spikes force their entry into his body. The gasp is more of shock than pain as he now stands skewered by Valentin's armor of thorns. They easily sink through the play doughy skin and pierce to the other side. Joining them in their bodily invasion is the dagger thrown by the drow which find a home in Ordox's back as well. Though it seems to merely disappear into his form, allowing a possible future projectile for use. "Apologies..." He speaks as he uses his blade-arms retract from their shape and return to the hands of Cornelius. Placing those newly created hands on the butcher's shoulders, he forces himself off, allowing the spikes to retract and exit the body, to which malleable flesh is quick to reshape itself to become whole. With no other words he slowly makes his way to the tavern exit, form changing quickly even as he does so.


Athiyk lets out a yell as Ranok interferes with her intended attack, allowing Tysinni to all too easily slip away from the drow. With the man's hand on her mace, she's forced to use her axe to intercept the thrusting blade, snatching under it the blade to hook it between the onyx blade and its shaft. Yanking outward, she interposes a leg between the occupied weapons, foot pressing forward to do nothing more than shove at Ranok, seeking a moments distance between the two of them. But all her plans for further attack are deemed null and void as darkness descends over the tavern, blotting everything out from sight. A dagger whistles by her as it streaks towards its intended target, a loud crash of glass sounding soon afterwards. She curses in that strange dialect of hers, guessing easily enough what happened. To her, though, it just seems as though the male is being a coward. Of course. Leave it to a male to run. She curses again, curses about her decision to help the male, curses the thought that it would be worth getting involved. The male's cowardice is not worth her life. She finds it easy enough to follow suit of the male, trekking through the darkness on an already memorised route, bashing her way out of the darkness and onto the street outside.


Ordox adds that one last glance is given to Athiyk before departing...as is Kasyr.


Valentin continues the cantatus of shadowbinding, feeling his reserves draining as Ordox impacted on his defense. However, his apprenticeship to Leifong had not been without new lessons learned. As his shadowy eyes pick out a bleeding patron stumble past his spiked cryumbral sanctuary, the butcher shifts the cadence of his incantation, and a hole opens up long enough for Valentin to grab the drunkard and pull him inside. Valentin brutally headbutts the man, and as the unconscious human slumps, the cantatus shifts again to cause Valentin's sanctuary to expand to approximately a metre's radius. In that moment, Valentin misses Kuzial's exit. Within his obscured prison of shadowice, Valentin inscribes a small circle in the drunkard's blood. The basic pattern coming from Valentin's modification of 'Vandon LeRouge's Crimson Chains' binding, linking that life-draining spell into an outer circle which Valenting inscribed in his own dripping vitae. That outer circle bound the butcher's incantation into a static ritual which rapidly started to deplete Valentin's energies. However, as the sigils are set, and the binding runic structures put in place, the spiked oubliette would glow crimson as the drunkard's life-energies were drawn straight into Valentin's necromantic construction, freeing Valentin to stand and focus on regaining his depleted mana from a safe position.


Nora the vampire woman sighs as she begins to leave and head into town


Jolie uses that same darkness to make her exit.


Kasyr just casually observes the display up until it -ceases- to be observable- the vampire simply reacting to the sudden manifestation of darkness with a casual plucking of his goggles over his eyes. Whilst normally the purpose they serve is that of snazzy headwear, those particular 'accessories' are in fact enchanted so as to counter the darkness present within the underdark- a particularily costly item the Kensai had commisioned from the Duergar Hepti, so long ago. Though the potency of Kuzials darkness affords Kasyr only the most threadbare view of the tavern, it's enough to avoid stumbling into any overturned chairs. It's only when he finishes this that he becomes aware of Gospels ired complaints ringing out in his head, "...That was him? Going out... Really? Et tu couldn't have mentioned that prior. Thank you. Just. Thank tu. Mon dieu." The briefest of moments is taken to coax the abrupt formation of a sheathed obsidian katana into the vampires hands, before he goes to nudge open the door he was standing beside, and head out into the 'fray', as it were.


Meanwhile, Outside

Ordox had thrown the tavern door open and rushed out, not particularly looking in pursuit of Kuzial and also not in the same form. It was a quick study of the female drow's form necessary to allow the Shifter to mimic her identity. Though the problem was...he had not heard her speak, so it would be impossible to copy her voice to complete the task of impostor. Still, he rushed his way out silently, attempting to make it to a stand nearby Kuzial.


Jolie slips quietly out, and leant against the tavern wall, her arms folded, gaze cool as ice upon all persons present.


Kuzial drops into motion the moment Ordox-as-the-drow exits the tavern. He didn't care who it was, he was going to cut their damn head off before he returned to the partial sanctuary of his hidden glade. So when the shape-shifter exits the door Kuzial releases his levitation spell and drops silently down. His right handed weapon, the Penzance Sabre, slashes in a murderous arc at the back of his neck. His more potent weapon, the E`et-Nilah Blade is send in a driving thrust directly down, aimed to impale the top of the 'drow's' spine and cleave down. The twisted dark-elf sword emits tendrils of the deepest darkness; they dance around the potent weapon, seeking to render the man's flesh and soul alike with their insatiable hunger for agony...


Ordox loses his head...Quite literally. The second swipe of Kuzial's enchanted blade proves unnecessary as the Shifter-now-drow's form tumbles to the earth, allowing it easily pass by and bury itself into the earth. Athiyk's head tumbles a few feet from the collapsed body and settles itself a few feet away after it was decapitated by Kuzial's initial gambit. It may go unnoticed or unregarded by the drow that there is no blood emitting from the severance. A slight kick-up of miasmic dust from where the body fell is left in wake, clearly signaling the drow's victory. Or so it may seem. Hoping that he will be overconfident with his success, Ordox lies in wait, playing possum, hoping for another attempt to return in kind the tragedy he caused Cornelius, his crush, to befall.


Kasyr steps out of the tavern and abruptly pauses upon bearing witness to the particular display occuring. Rather than question his good fortune that has come in the form of a tardy exit, the Kensai merely slips out from the doorframe, using the momentary distraction to step off to the side- if only so he can casually lean back against the wall, an ominous obsidan katana resting sheathed upon his shoulder. "Stavret, es it?"


Athiyk comes out of the tavern to see...herself die? That has her reeling on her bare feet, slamming right back against the door - and possibly Kasyr - as she seeks to avoid whatever fate befell her doppelganger. She'd likely scale the tavern like a spider if she could, but that is not among her skillset. Instead, she just lowers herself into a defensive crouch, waiting to see what happens.


Kuzial is, by this stage, leaking prodigious amounts of blood onto the road. Valentin's successful strikes, added with the vicious attack Ordox rendered across his back, and the bruising from Tysinni, and hurling himself through a window... All this a day after he fought the swamp pixie to the death. It is too much for the drow. When it seems he has killed the female elf, no notice of her lack of blood, the dark elf replaces his weapons and spends just a moment staring at the lady Tenebrae, before he flashes her a bloodied grin. He is about to summon forth another of his potent darkness spheres to aid his escape, before the words of the kensai reach his keen ears. To him the drow merely smirks, before he casts the darkness spell, summoned again through his soulstone insignia. Moments before he does he begins to turn and run to the west, yet within the field of darkness he levitates up to the tavern's roof, before silently running across it. When at the other side he drops himself down, landing in an awkward forward roll that causes his wounds to further gush blood, before the patron of House Stavret flees into the forests behind, leaking all the while a trail of sanguine liquid. Grieve's warnings, it seems, are adhered to... for now.


Ordox had waited for the drow to make his exit before both head and body of the female drow, Athiyk, seem to somehow slither out of sight. Dipping first behind the tavern to rejoin themselves and then off into the woods. His plans having been dismantled, he escapes, living to scheme for another day.

At the same time, in Kelay Tavern

Tysinni heard the sounds of clashing weapons from above her, a familiar presence alerting the thief to Ranok's arrival. Was he always around when she got into these situations? Well, she was grateful for the help now, even if the whole thing was her fault. Grinning gleefully, she sticks her pilfered prize into the top of her vest, making sure its secure before continuing on with her strange, three-legged crawl. Even though her injury hadn't hurt before, it was hurting now, making her grit her teeth through the pain. Vaguely she was aware of the various interactions between combatants, seeing Valentin and Ordox's double-teaming of Kuzial from the corner of her eye, even as Ranok engaged Athiyk above and behind her. Immediate darkness obscures her vision and the thief lets out a loud curse, "Cantankerous bovine!" Drowish magic, oh how she hated it. She freezes in place, taking (what she thinks is) a blow to the thigh before hearing the sounds of running feet, raised voices and exploding glass that accompanied unseen actions in the dark. A hiss of pain as she tried to continue on her path, before she simply decides to wait for light to return before making a move.


Ranok feels his arm wrenched as his sword jerks in his grasp from the kick. Athyik managed to escape a punch from his free arm by virtue of it being locked with the mace. That annoyed Ranok, since it was a fairly sloppy move on his part. However, it all became moot, as Kuzial makes his exit. The globe of darkness, of course. Ranok mutters to himself about drow and loving to do things in the dark. He had just the trick, though. The sounds of Athyik retreating were all he had as assurance that she wasn't going to attack him, but he doesn't take any chances. A step backwards, using his internalized map of the tavern and table placements to make sure he doesn't hit anything, and his bruised arm fishes something out of the duster. A small crystal. A Mirabelle shell, of course. Unfortunately for Valentin, Ranok doesn't know that Kuzial is gone as well, the man unable to hear the sounds of retreat from where he was. So out the crystal sails to where the drow and butcher had stood. Ranok shouts out, "Und Hy say: Let dere be light!" The activation for the crystal follows shortly after. A brilliant flash of light erupts forth, as well as a small measure of concussive force. No where near the normal detonation of a shell fired from Mirabelle as the crystal hadn't been compromised. So instead of physical force, the magic was dumped into the light instead. This meant that it glowed, instead of simply blinking out of existence. It would banish the orb of darkness for as long as it lasted, and perhaps more, though Kuzial would be long gone by then. The light would be fleeting, too, the magic only having a minute of life at the most. When Ranok sees that the female drow had departed, too, his sword dips down into a guard position, waiting for something else to happen before he relaxed.

Ranok dropped 1 crystal.


Valentin had ceased observing the fight as he focused on restoring his depleted mystical reserves. So he is caught by surprise when the light from Mirabelle's projectile flares out against the dark crimson of his deadly oubliette. The ritual bindings drew powerfully on the drunkard's lifeforce in the fleeting period of strong illumination, draining a significant proportion of his energy to maintain the oubliette's presence. Within the sorcerous opacity of his sanctuary, Valentin lifts the drunkard up unwatched, examining how the crimson light formed manacles linking the man to the ritual circle. The butcher was pleased with the outcome, but had little time for self-congratulation. He plants fangs to neck, and carefully adds to the drain of the man's lifeforces as he takes that energy-granting blood into his own system. When the man grows close to death, Valentin ceases, and with a quick counter-cantation and scuffing of bloody runes, deactivates both ritual circles. Before the oubliette disappears, Valentin wraps shadow around himself and the drunkard - as the oubliette vanishes to be replaced by his own abyssal wreathe of shadows, Valentin drains the last of the drunkard's life, and binds his essence into the shadows, causing the man's corpse to dissolve into shadow then reappear in the room from which the Vampire woman Nora had earlier returned from with bloodied lips. No need, after all, to have people accusing him of murder. Let the vampire wench have that joy. Valentin then stands up and releases his shadows, appearing injured but straightbacked and unperturbed.


Tysinni absently is about to rub her stinging thigh with her good hand when she's distracted by Ranok's voice and a brilliant light filling the tavern. "Frakking devil devices. Damn showy weapon..." Blinking at the sights out from below the table, the thief frowns at seeing her mark/attacker disappear. Reaching up with her good hand, she grabs hold of a vacated chair and pulls herself into it, letting out a low cry as her leg bumps into the side of it. "Jeez, it was just a kic..." Ty trails off as she stares rather perplexedly down at the hilt of a dagger sticking out of her leg. "Gods damn it! Fiendish worm!" Looking around for Ranok, the thief glares at him for no particular reason. "You should've taught me more stuff." Typical Ty, blaming others for her problems.


Tysinni 's attention is caught by Valentin, seeming to just reappear at the edge of her vision. Ah, her hero. Giving the vampire a small wave, she tries to hide the fact that she's bleeding all over the place. She didn't really need to be made into dinner again this week.


Ranok finally sheathes his sword and looks under the table Ty was hiding under, "Vell, look vat ve hef here. A person vo's hend found de vrong pocket." This was dryly said. He was guessing, as well. But it was a good guess. He would extend a hand to help Ty up before glancing at the *other* darkness in the room, that being Valentin. He hadn't seen the man be sucked in to his death in the darkness, so he just guessed it was necromantic magic of some sort, as the light, which by then had burned out, leaving a slightly smoking crystal, hadn't banished it. Grim faced, Ranok spots the dagger, then, too. "Oh, goot. Chust ven tinks veren' lookink komplicated. Kome here, Ty."


Valentin grimaces "Bloody 'ells bells and feckin' bankers. What did I blimmin' walk into?" He casts a dour look at Ty "Luv, what in the black arse of hell did y'nick from the drab plow anyway? It had better ha' been worth the hassle, innit." He nods to the storeroom where Nora came out of earlier. "I think that tavern door of a fanged wench did someone in. Bint came out wi' bloodied lips." The butcher wipes his bloodied hands on his apron and tips his hat to Ranok "Cheers guv. Good work keepin' the lass in one piece."


Tysinni turns her glare from Ranok, ignoring his command to Valentin. Almost immediately she adopts a completely innocent expression, not wishing to give away her prize. "I don't know what you're talking about, Fang-boy. I was just minding my own business over there." She points in the general direction of the public board with her good arm before continuing, "I may have accidentally brushed him with my hand and he lost it." Total lie. Not like it was good business to admitting to crimes now was it? Turning her innocent expression back to Ranok, she points at the knife sticking out of her thigh. "Little help?" She was starting to feel more than a little sticky from all the blood pooling inside her leathers, dripping out of various limb holes.


Ranok ignores Vale for now. His expression was intense. He pulls out a vial and forces it into Ty's hand, "Drink." If she hesitated in any way, he would urge, more insistently, "Drink it!" It was a general anti venin, normally to be taken before you expect to encounter poison. And drow were renown for their various poisons. Of various levels of deadliness. Perhaps Ty might be unsettled by his expression. Too much waiting, and he would force it down her throat. There really wasn't time to explain. As for Nora, Ranok saw one body enter, and there were two in the room: the drunkard, and the half elf. A suspicious thing on its own. Not that anyone really cared in Kelay, there being no sense of justice system.


Aftermath

Valentin grunts and looks at his brutalised left shoulder with a grimace "Feckin' 'ell. Bloody drow bastard was a right handful, innit. Anyone know who th'bastard was?"


Tysinni blinks up at Ranok, trying to push his hand with the vial in it, away from her face. "I don't want to drink right now, Dezro, thanks." Back to the pet name that she had once abandoned, she is quite a bit surprised when he continues to shove the small bottle at her. "I'm not getting drunk again, you persistent pole cat..." Her voice was already losing some of its heat. Her arm and thigh were both throbbing and she was feeling rather under the weather. As Ranok pretty much forces the liquid into her mouth, she rolls her eyes and swallows, too in pain to make that big a deal of it. After Ranok stops manhandling her, Ty leans around him to look at the vampire butcher. "His name is Kuzial. He's a right murderous bastard. Killed my friend."


Ranok drops the vial on the ground. It clinks, no longer unimportant. The anti venin would only buy Ty time, if there really was toxins in her system. But he wasn't going to worry the woman by telling her how there's a fairly even chance that she was approaching death. "Yah, Kuzial. Now, lemmee see dis dagger." He was using it as a pretense to get close so he could lift her without much struggle. He needed to get her a healer before anything worsened. He would lift the woman in a fireman's carry before she had much time to do more then squawk.


Valentin nods "Kuzial, eh? Blimmin' banker of a drab plow is what he is. Well guv, guvness, I imagine y'need to sod off to a healers. Stay out o' further trouble, Tysinni. Next time y'may not be so lucky, innit"


Tysinni looks at the dropped vial, frowning at Ranok's penchant for making a mess. "Really, Dezro...you're not supposed to litter. Mesthak is going to be sooo upset with you." The thief completely ignored the fact that the tavern was once again in shambles. Busted windows and furniture, blood, dead bodies, glass....It was a mess. Ty is pulled from her reverie by Ranok's next command. "The one in my leg?" She leans over to examine it herself, feeling slightly queasy and more than a little dizzy. Probably blood loss. That is further compounded when she's suddenly aloft, hanging off her friend's shoulder. "Put me down, Dezro! I can walk...maybe...." The thief trails off and looks over at Valentin, giving the vampire a strange little salute as she's carried off. "Bye Fang-Boy! Thanks for the assistance!"


Ranok would carry Ty to the door, manhandling her like an utter barbarian. In her eyes, at least. He was handling her with about as much care as he could give at the moment. One hand kept free to defend himself and her. A momentary pause. A brief nod to Valetin. He didn't like the butcher much, by the signs of his use of magic. The scent of blood was heavy about him, as well. He couldn't pin why. It uneased him. However, an acknowledgement was required, and thus Ranok gave it, "Tenks for de help." Holding off two drow at once would have been a fairly tall task for Ranok to do, as he wasn't a superior fighter and had eyes in the back of his head. But the thanks was all Valentin was getting, for now. The butcher had his 'name', from Ty, that being the moniker Dezro. And he would carry Ty out to the healer, eventually shifting her into both arms when the distance from the tavern was great enough.


Valentin nods "Later, guv. Behave, Ty." The butcher then does what he first intended before things got out of hand - he trundles up to read the message board


Tysinni was still being carried over her friend's shoulder, the blood loss and the her awkward position were combining to make her very dizzy. The thief would close her eyes, trying to focus herself even as the pain from her wounds made her feel sick to her stomach. Well, that could be the dizziness too. "Dezro, I'mma gonna toss my cookies any minute now..." Really, if he didn't put her down soon, she would likely mess up his new duster.