RP:Brawling and Business at Grargh's Grogshop

Synopsis

Katya has cunning plan. And brawl.

Jerica and Landalathar are invited to both.

Scene Setting

Music from a flautist sitting in the corner greets your ears as you enter. The smell of old and new liquor rushes into your face, making you reel for a few seconds. The bar to your West is an enormous hunk of wood carved out of what looks to be a tree from the swamp North of here, and has been sanded and buffed to a glossy shine. High stools stand in front of it, occupied or waiting for an occupant. The main floor area is taken up by small tables on which card games are being played. This seems like a nice place and you stay for a drink or two. When you leave here your choices are North, to Gualon Way; or South, to Arena Avenue.

Dramatis Personae

Katya ~ Brawl-loving elven mercenary

Jerica ~ Knife-loving human assassin

Landalathar ~ Footsies-loving lycanthropic layabout

Thlag ~ Orcish Caravan guard of Katya's acquaintance

Tavern Brawl in Gualon

Katya <{ It was a busy evening at Grargh's Grogshop. Mostly orcs and humans were present, drinking and bickering in the placid way that had come to signify Grargh's approach to race relations: shut up and drink, and pay for any damages or else. Which didn't mean there weren't fights. It just meant Grargh made a fine profit of overcharging on repairs of stools and tables, since his cousin was the carpenter. Apart from the usual contingent of drinkers, two orcs play a game of mumblypeg in one corner, blood already staining their table as fingers are nicked by their daggers, while a small cadre of five human caravan guards play pokir at a table off to the side. And at the bar sits Katya, still wearing her dusty leathers and armoured headband, drinking whiskey and arguing with an orc next to her.

Katya points her glass at the orc "No! You are being stupid and wrong, Thlag! In desert, you are drinking from Cactus, not eating the spines, to be offsetting the dehydration." Thlag, a large and brutish caravan guard of Katya's aquaintance spits on the bar in front of her "No, Katya, you are stupid and weak elf who cannot eat cactus spines." Katya's eyebrow quirks in irritation. "Call me that again, Thlag, I am daring you." Grargh's whiskey was a known catalyst for violence, on account of both its potency and terrible flavour. Thlag turns his bulky orcish body and pokes Katya in the shoulder "You. Are. Weak. Elf." With an indignant shriek, Katya slams her armoured headband against Thlag's forehead in a crunching headbutt, dislodging him from his seat. The bar goes quiet a moment, to be punctuated by Katya crunching her stool over Thlag's head, rendering her drunken friend stunned for a small while. With a glare Katya turns, brandishing her stool "Anyone else think I am weak elf?" Suddenly the bar erupts in violent activity as Grargh watches carefully, tallying who damaged what, and how badly.

Jerica was following instructions on the note in Kelay and making her way to Gualon. Not yet anywhere she had been but a few quiet questions with the passing of coins, and maybe a few demonstrations she was not as weak and helpless as she looked, got Jerica the answers she sought. That is, the location of the local dive. Easing open the door, Jerica eases just as carefully inside. Orcs were not known for their cleanliness and having so many in one place made that almost painfully obvious to the olfactory senses. Coughing, Jerica pulled up her scarf to try and keep at least some of the stench from choking off her breath while quick and furtive glances traced a relatively fight-free path towards a table situated somewhere in the back and abandoned by its previous occupants in favor of a brawl. Jerica slipped one of her knives into the palm of a hidden hand, just in case.

Katya <{ If there was one truth to Gualon, it was that racial tensions were always simmering below the surface. It didn't matter how much the city guards enforced the peace, orcs were orcs, humans were humans, and orcs generally loved an excuse to leave a human in a bleeding and battered state in a good old-fashioned bar brawl. That Katya was an elf, no matter that she was something of a regular fixture at Grargh's in recent times, meant that the orcs were more than happy to prove that she was indeed a 'weak elf'. A pair of grinning orcs barrel towards Katya, only to have one tripped up by a human patron's carefully extended leg. Another nearby orc notices the human tripping the orc, and hurls a bottle at him. Within moments, almost everyone seemed to have an excuse to get in on the action. It was only the orcs playing mumblypeg and the human caravan guards who remained seated - their local reputations keeping the mumblypeg and pokir-playing groups left well alone by the brawling patrons.

Katya grins as another large orc heads her way. Although large for an elven woman, she would appear petite next to the drunken orc preparing to body slam her against the bar. As the orc hurtles in, Katya throws her half-broken stool at him and half-jumps backwards, planting her hands on the bar and curling her legs up and out as her thrown chair bounces off the tough orc. A second later, and Katya brings her feet beneath her on the bar, and bounces to the side along the counter as the orc hits the solid timber in his attempt to grab her. With a peel of laughter, Katya hooks a boot into the orc's head - a moment's deterrance for the thickskulled brute, but the second it took for him to shake out the impact lets her see a smaller, more petite figure than herself slip into a far corner. Pointing at her, Katya calls out in delight: "Knifelady! Is brawltime! Is fun!" Katya runs along the counter to avoid a thrown chair, then spins into a low crouch at one end of the bar, looking for the next target. In the meanwhile, given Katya's exuberant greeting, an orc takes a pause from stomping on the stomach of a drunken human to examine the new entrant to the tavern.

Jerica would have much rather remained an anonymous and unnoticed figure among the chaos of the growing fight. That, however, was not to be. Or as Madam S would say, "Not in the cards". If only Madam S were here to tell her if she'd walk out alive. The sudden and unwelcome examination of her person is carefully ignored whilst half her attention is kept on the orc and the rest on the elf performing seemingly effortless acrobatics through the Grogshop, "Yes, elf, I can see that! While you may enjoy this sort of barbary, I on the other hand, do not." Jerica might appear at ease as she leans against the abandoned table, but appearances could be deceiving in her case. As is often the case as it were. Much to the dismay of stomach-stomping orc, Jerica won't make an aggressive move in any direction nor show a weapon even if it was unlikely that would save the petite assassin from being assaulted.

Katya <{ The grogshop rages with orcish and human shouts of outrage and provocation. Bottles fly, chairs are swung, and Grargh carefully places a large and thick wooden board in front of the liquor shelves. Though some would argue they were doing Gualon a service by destroying the stock. At Jerica's end of the bar, the orc's eyes bulge and nostrils flare in bullish fashion "Barbarian?! Ulgag is Accountant! Eat Chair!" And yes, a chair is flung directly at Jerica with all the promise-of-pain force typical of an orc-thrown ballistic missile. Katya, in the meanwhile, has found herself playing 'dodge the bottle' as standing on the bar has made her a prime target. With dancing steps along the bar, Katya ducks one, leans out of the way of another, and pulls one bottle from the air as another clips her hip painfully. With an indignant cry of "Skotina Orc'suka!" Katya hurls the bottle into the face of the orc who had managed to get a bottle to impact on her. Rethinking her strategy, Katya runs lightly halfway along the bar, jumps onto the shoulders of an orc who'd just been facewhipped by a human bravo's chair, coils her legs beneath her, then launches into a descending roundhouse kick to another orc's temple in the middle of the tavern. As the orc's head snaps to the side painfully, Katya lands with a gleeful laugh, and begins the wind dance as she weaves out of the way of another orc's stompkick.

Jerica blinks in confusion at the bellow and looked towards the bellower in time to see that chair come flying at her. It did not matter, then, what misunderstanding had been had. She had mere seconds to react since Providence seemed inclined to be sure any and all obstacles between herself and that chair conveniently moved out of the way. Now, Jerica is not the confrontational sort, which is why doing her work from the shadows and in secret suited the woman just fine. But, that does not mean the assassin would not defend herself. First she had to deal with that chair in the least painful way possible. That was either to duck and hope it went over her head, which really shouldn't be all that hard, or turn her shoulder into the projectile. Since her inclination in the latter is to put her right shoulder to it, that wouldn't do. Jerica is right handed. So, duck it is. At the same time that knife that had been palmed would be aimed and throw so that it flew in a horizontal manner rather than the usual vertical. It took a flick of her wrist, like throwing a flat disk, and quite frankly, Jerica wouldn't care if it hit the chair-thrower in the thigh it was meant to or lodged somewhere else. She had plenty of those knives and t hat single one would be retrieved; if she made it out of here.

Katya <{ Katya's merry laughter could be heard slipping in and around the frequent enraged outcries of the other tavern patrons. The elven mercenary starts to lose herself in the wind dance, crouching and weaving to the side as a human swings a barstool to collide with the orc who had been trying to grab her neck, bouncing up and against an orc's back as a drunken human sellsword tries to shovel a hook into her ribs, rebounding to headbutt the sod before grabbing the stunned man and spinning him into the path of another orc with a giggle. Then an elbow jams painfully into the elf's ribs from an opportunistic orc, and Katya lets herself spin with the bruising impact as she arcs up a short, snappy kick to the orc's large groin. The orc gurgles and falls to his knees, only to have another orc kick him in the head as Katya bounces away to avoid another swung chair. And then, in Jerica's corner, things got complicated, and an Orc's bellowed warning causes a momentary pause in proceedings as the various unarmed brawlers stopped to take quick assessment around them. It was an unspoken rule in Grargh's grogshop: no weapons when brawling, but if someone is stupid enough to escalate matters to a melee, the patrons who did the killing had to do the cleaning up or suffer the consequences. It was a shame that an outsider couldn't be expected to know the rules, but that wasn't Grargh's problem. The cause of the silent stillness in the tavern was the knifed orc, whose chair had just crashed against the wall behind Jerica. He had looked down at the painful implement jammed into his thigh and bellows "WEAPON! Human has weapon!". In the centre of the tavern Katya, her knee primed to inflict pain to another groin, stops with the rest and turns to see where the orc and Jerica are. With a muttered "Ayaya, is going to get dangerous now" Katya slips through the crowd towards the petite human assassin as a whole tavern's worth of eyes turn to face Jerica.

Jerica was not aware, certainly, that there were supposed rules to this brawling thing. It had been pure instinct that had the blade thrown. Straightening with a 'What'd I do?' expression she glances towards the elf striding towards her. Clearing her throat and wiping her hands off on the cloak, which is a ruse to be sure she had all the weapons she could carry, Jerica ducks her head and looks at anything and everything except the human, orc and elven eyes which all seem trained upon her self. "I think I'll just be going now. My apologies for interrupting your brawl."

Katya grabs Ulgag by the arm, and raises a gold coin before his eye "Oi! Ugly darling! Is blood-debt paid, da? We are being square, yes? Knifelady is here with me, but is being silly addict to stabbing things. Is sad addiction, and darling is needing help with this terrible burden." It wasn't the first time Ulgag and Katya had faced each other in the midst of a tavern brawl, so the orcish accountant took the coin and grunted "Ulgag is satisfied" before turning to punch a nearby human in the face. And with that the grogshop once again erupts in violence as Katya grabs hold of Jerica's arm and drags her to the corner by the caravan guards where things were a bit quieter "Darling, are you crazy? You could have got us killed! But is good to see you! I have fun business plan!" Katya ducks a thrown chair which threatens both herself and Jerica.

Landalathar entered the tavern, curious about all the commotion only for an orc to turn and attempt to punch him out. Nimble for a man who looks like he hasn't slept in several days, Lan bounced back, dodging the large fist and pulling the orc down as he punched forward. Out went the beast, due to the aide of Lan's lycan enhanced strength but the elf grunted, looking down at his pants and dusting them off like he was mad the new set of leather was dirty, "Why am I hear again?" His head shook, that red hair tossing either which way as he looked around the bar, surprised to see Katya and Jerica here. With a bit of swagger, and some nice footwork, he made his way over towards the two, avoiding the scuffle with a smirk, "I bet you two pretty ladies caused this, didn't you?"

Jerica ducked if only because Katya did and Jerica was used to taking her cue from others. "That was my gold, wasn't it? That you paid the orc with." She did not answer the question of her sanity. Sometimes Jerica questioned it herself. "Yes, maybe. But we aren't. I read your note and that is why I am here. Not for a brawl, Katya. What's this--" she is cut off by a renewed roar as an orc goes down. Looking over to see the cause only to blink dumbly at a familiar smirk. Sniffing and pulling her cloak firmly against her shoulders, Jerica answers the lycan, "I doubt it would have needed much of an incentive to start in the first place." Just about then, a pair of buff brawlers came by trading swings and jostling Jeri into the nearest body. Whichever that happens to be. "Gods be damned to Hades," she mutters, the closest thing to cursing she's gotten so far.

Katya grins at Landalathar saying "Da, is good fight!" as a pair of bottles come sailing through the air at the swaggering newcomer. Katya shifts to the side and a kick brushes her ribs in passing as she says to Jerica "No, no, brawl is perfect way of meeting! Nobody is listening to what we say! I am genius, da? So I am thinking this: Highway robbery. Trade route from Gualon to Cenril. Even split of profits between stakeholders. Sounds good, da?" In the meanwhile, by the bar, Thlag hauls himself to his feet with a curse and a slightly more sober outlook "Urgh. Frakkin' Katya." The burly orcish caravan guard looks around and spots his 'friend' from numerous caravanserei assignments. Pushing his way through the melee, Thlag shouts "Oi, Katya, you fight like little pixie girl!". A challenge like that was not to be ignored, especially not between 'friends' in Gualon, and Katya raises a hand to Jerica and Landalathar "I am being right back, darlings!" The elf rolls behind the table where the caravan guards still played pokir unmolested, then weaves back into the fray, ducking an elbow, sidestepping a punch, headbutting some drunken human, and shouting to Thlag "Thlag darling! You are having fighting skill of goblin! I put you on floor like doormat!"

Landalathar stepped along, his head ducking to dodge the first bottle, though a second comes from behind, not shattering (His skull wasn't -that- thick) but a gash would be there in the morning as the lycan swore. His body was pushed forward as Jerica's was pushed back, his hand moving outwards to catch the assassin, "Whoa!" A grunt given as he was pushed to the side. Up to the wall they want, Jerica face first and Lan behind her, though his arms were lifted to catch the wall in an attempt to not make it too uncomfortable as an orc pressed against them, trying to brawl his way back into the fray. Lan gave a sigh of relief as he pushed the orc off him, grunting, "Well, hello." The lycan glancing over to Katya, "You two in business now, huh?" His tongue trailed over his teeth, like he had an idea in his head, though it was hard to look like he was thinking with those dark circles around his eyes.

Jerica finds herself with a wall against her front and, briefly, Landalathar against her back. She is glad that the tavern, like most, was dimly lit for the flush that came to her cheeks. Looking towards the sound of Katya returning to the fight, she is just in time to see Thlag -she assumes it to be Thlag anyway- bellow a rumbling orcish laugh and elbow, punch and kick his way towards the insane elf. Jerica is sure that the elf must be mad at this point. Jerica will be glad enough when the lycan pushes away from her and she can ease to the corner table to safely watch rather than participate. Thlag finally gains the elegantly fighting elf to take a swing at her with a ham like fist. The petite assassin winces when it seems that swing might connect and if it didn't there'd be a sigh of almost relief. Almost simply because Katya had her attention. Highway robbery? That would be something new and perhaps profitable. It might pay to wait for the brawl to die down and Katya to remember she was there to talk about this business arrangement.

Katya laughs merrily as Thlag hooks his orcish fist at her, sidestepping and turning her body as she grabs his wrist and fist with both hands. A careful twist against the joint's natural tendencies and the orc's momentum give Thlag two choices: broken wrist or to let his body go with the movement of his arm. Needing functioning arms for his wage, the orc finds himself flipped over the rotating axle of his abused right arm, only to discover his landing softened by another orc. Katya has not time to maintain the joint lock though, as another orcish patron tries to club her down with both fists. Spinning away from that blow with a kick towards Thlag's head, Katya grins "Thlag, look, you are lying down on job! Who will hire you now?" For the moment, Katya has forgotten about her 'business partners', leaving them free to converse with each other while she 'plays' with her orcish 'friend'.

Landalathar was decked by an orc as he started to head over to Jerica. His hands catching his body against the wall as he turned around, "You sonofa..." A flurry of movement and the orc found himself face first into a wall while Lan's eyes were black for another reason besides lack of sleep. His body fell down into a chair beside Jerica, shoulders lifting as he heaved a sigh, "I just wanted a drink." He shook his head as he looked over to the assassin who seemed preoccupied with staring at Katya as she fought.

Jerica :: Thlag reaches out to catch Katya's ankle and give a heaving shove to put her off balance so he could roll off the grunting orc beneath him and lumber to his feet. The nearest thing is grabbed which happened to be one of the few remaining intact chairs to swing it two-handed at the elf while Jerica watches this display and Landalathar is watching her. It isn't that she doesn't realize the lycan is watching her she is just trying not to let the male think that the fact he does might fluster her a bit. Jerica's nostrils pinch on a sniff as she finally deigns to grace the red haired elf with a cool look. "So get one," she suggests with the hint of a smile in the corners of her mouth. At least that infernal blush was gone.

Katya <{ As Thlag's left hand whipped out to unbalance Katya with the orcish wisecrack "I earn more than you lying down, elf!", Katya hisses in indignation "Vyrodok Orc'suka! Hands off!" As Katya rolls back to her feet, she catches the incoming chair's movement with the corner of her eye, and as swiftly as a change in mood her buckler is in her hand. Bracing the buckler with both arms and widened stance she punches the buckler into the path of the chair's movement, and the shield and chair's back collide in a splintering mess of wood as parts of the chair still push past to smack Katya away with Thlag's great strength. Katya stumbles, almost propelled by the chair's force, back into another orc, who she elbows in the kidneys on instinct. The elven mercenary spits blood, and glares at Thlag "Fine. We are even. I will stop calling you useless goblin, if you stop calling me weak pixie, and I even promise not to set your face on fire in sleep. Is fair, da?" Thlag stops to backhand some human bravo who'd just kicked him and says "Yar, is fair, Katya." Wiping blood from her lip, Katya spins down and away from another orc's punch before rising back up to uppercut the bastard. She then points at the corner table "Come, darling, have business proposition." Between Thlag and Katya, a path is soon carved to the corner table where, like the caravan guards and the two orcs playing mumblypeg, the small group is left in relative peace while the rest of the grogshop continues in merry mayhem. Katya smiles brightly at Landalathar and Jerica. "Knifelady, Landalathar, this is being Thlag. Thlag, this is Knifelady and Landalathar. Thlag, as you are not speaking like elf, is fine to call him Wolfy." A toothy smile appears on the orcish caravan guard's face "Yar, I am Thlag. I work with Katya sometimes." Katya continues "So what did I miss?"

Landalathar shot Jerica a look, eyeing that smile, "So you can stare and gush at me while I'm not keeping an eye on you?" His brow raised as he leaned back, crossing his hands over his chest. As Katya gave her spiel he gave her a look that quite clearly indicated he did not like the idea of being called Wolfy, from an orc or no, though he quipped, "You missed Jerica doing her best not to blush." A shrug of his shoulders, he let the lycan comment go for now as his lips pulled up into a smirk, "I take it I am missing something fun?"

Jerica just shook her head as Katya and Thlag made their way over. It was probably in reply to Landalathar's question. Eying the orc on introduction, Jerica nods, "I steal Katya's bounties, on occasion." Jerica's foot, beneath the table, lashes out towards Landalathar's shin in payment for the blush comment, and for giving her name when she'd have prefered being known simply as 'Knifelady' by the elf, and anyone else near enough to hear. "You said something about a robbery?" she gets to the point, settling her attention on Katya and managing not to blush, too much.

Katya blithely ignores the not-so-subtle cues of displeasure at Landalathar's new nickname, and crouches by the table, resting her elbows on its surface in the absence of any more serviceable chairs. Thlag looms cheerfully, but does not offer much in the way of conversation, shifting once to strongarm a stumbling orc away from the table and back out into the general brawl. Katya smiles sweetly at Jerica "Is okay, darling. Ever since I got paid five thousand gold to kill some vampires in Vailkrin, I have discarded grudge over lost opportunity for mere hundred gold. I am generous spirit, da?" A brief pause, to let that paycheque sink in, and then Katya continued "But yes, highway robbery. I am thinking evil nasty plan: form up party of highwaymen, masked and disguised, and terrorise the trade routes. And then, after multiple successes and the merchants are getting jumpy..." Katya grins maliciously "We hire on, undisguised, as regular guards and have easy and profitable trip guarding merchant caravans from ourselves. Is genius, da?"

Landalathar made a face as Jerica kicked him, his head turning towards the woman with a bit of a smirk, "Didn't know we were playing footsie." He was being overly obvious on purpose to rile the assassin up, but he glanced back towards Katya, a hand running at his pocket, the former royal guard lower in cash than he was use to being, "Seems like a pretty easy scam." The lycan shrugging, he assumed at this point that since Katya was talking around him, he was included whether or not he wanted in.

Jerica ignored Landalathar. On purpose. Jerica would only raise her chin as any indication he'd been heard at all. "Yes, it does seem rather easy. Too easy." Chewing the inside of her cheek thoughtfully, she slants a glance towards Thlag, "You don't think even with disguises we'd be obviously noticeable with an orc in our group of 'guards' after having him help rob those same caravans?" Not to mention her own deminutive stature not being exactly of a normality among humans. As for the five thousand gold a touche` raise of her brows is given to acknowledge that, this time, Katya had done better than she in any current jobs.

Katya grins at Landalathar "Da. Is brilliant scam. Lots of danger, of course. Merchants always have guards. Thlag and I will be checking on the hiring situations, see who is transporting what and being protected by who, and then we shall pick a target to intercept." Katya tuts at Jerica's 'voice of reason' objections "Is easy: one, Thlag will be coming on the raids, but not hiring out as guard. Thlag will be base of operations, and handling sale of stolen goods on black market. The problem of you being little girly midget, Jerica, is being more difficult." Yes, Katya had noticed Landalathar's earlier slip-up, and used the correct name like a little social jab "I am suggesting you use different weapon on raids than when hiring on. Bandits are often best known for their preferred weapons and fighting style. You are liking knives, da, but when wearing mask, maybe use bow or crossbow. So long as recoil is not knocking you off horse. I, for instance, will be using spear instead of scimitar." Katya smiles sweetly "I am suggesting we meet in a week or so. By then, Thlag and I will have basic preparations made." Katya points at Jerica and Landalathar "If interested, show up at the appointed time with mask, horse, weapons, and preferred armour. Expect guards to have bows and crossbows, aside from spears and swords, and prepare accordingly. Any more questions before Thlag and I go off to the Arena to see who can win most gold on wagers?"

Landalathar pulled back, his hands crossing over his chest as his mouth opened, the lycan not even trying to stifle a yawn, his head shaking, "I'll see about getting there..." It was all he could do, shifting around in his seat, even going so far as to kicking Jerica back underneath the table, more subtle plays to get under her skin as his eyes seemed to close, the lycan was really tired by this point.

Jerica listened to the plan and seemed satisfied with the answer. "One week, then, Katya." She was proud to note that she didn't grimace when her name came from the elf's mouth. The kick under the table brings a slight wince to her plain features and the glare she sent Lan's way would be wasted since he had already closed his eyes. Getting up from her seat, Jerica gives a stiff sort of bow, bending at the waist but not looking away from either elf or orc. "I haven't any questions, at this time. We'll see if that changes between now and then." With that delceration, Jerica is the first to begin heading for the door. If an orc happened to bash in the lycan's head while he slept, she figured that would be his own poor luck and fault.

Katya grins and jumps back to her feet "Until then, darlings. Thlag! Come! Let us cause more trouble! I will buy you cooked hogleg if you beat someone with it before eating." Thlag follows, offering a slight shrug. Free food was worth the occasional hassle. The unlikely pair force their way through the ongoing bar room brawl, although it did seem to be dying down as more people ended up knocked unconscious. Katya and Thlag eventually push their way through to and out of the southern exit towards the arena.