RP:Cure For What Ales You
A packed summer ale release in Kelay tavern turns to madness as tempers flare and icicles fly.
Kelay Tavern
Kelay Tavern is -packed-, even for a Saturday. The bellows of laughter and general chatter can be heard from the Bridge to Cenril or even Larket! The Sage surrounding is abuzz with the news: Mesthak is releasing a new summer ale today. It’s been ages since the old bar keep has tried his hand at a new beverage, and local legend insists that he’s got the magic touch. His brews are infamous, even past Lithrydel’s borders. Creatures have travelled for weeks on end just to be here. Outside the tavern, banners fly over the tree lines. The tavern’s doors are propped open, and heavy wooden pub tables have been moved out into the street to accommodate the growing crowd.
Lanara sits at the bar, her elbows propped atop the counter, and her pointer finger circling the brim of her glass. Beads of sweat cling to the once-chilled tankard of ale, and the glass looks about half empty, as the elf had stopped sipping from it several minutes ago. Mesthak’s new summer ale didn’t disappoint, and it even held a hint of a fruity taste. It was delicious, and if it weren’t so freaking hot, it would have been the perfect cocktail hour! It was stifling outside, and she had slipped in to cool off, only to find the establishment packed with thirsty patrons sharing the same hope of buying some shade and a chilled beverage. Just her luck! The amount of patrons was causing the place to heat up, and if one more sweaty dwarf rubbed against her, she was going to snap.
Meri doesn't often frequent this tavern, or any tavern really, regularly. The blonde happens to be passing through Kelay on a return trip home and just happens to notice through the windows that it is particularly packed today. That alone is honestly not enough to peek Meri's curiosity. Look, she does not drink anymore and sitting in a room full of drunks is just not super inspiring to her. She was just about to turn away, when some Joe Shmoe steps to the left, allowing Meri to catch a glimpse at Lanara. That is enough to cause her to delay her trip him at least just a few moments. Meri steps inside and approaches Lanara, greeting her with a smile, "Hey! The puppies are doing good. And no, we still can't agree on names."
Lucky for Lanara, Chiko the scrawny feline is the sweaty thing that next rubs against her. And man, matted fur on skin does not sound like a cool or soothing combination. He orders an ale from the frantic bartender and anxiously licks his left shoulder, the sand paper feel of large tongue could touch Lanara if she isn’t careful. His chocolate fur looks heavier in the low light. He looks into her glass, tongue buried into his chest while he bites at it heatedly. The audible sound of this grooming makes the avian patron on his right leave. When Meri approaches, he considers her skeptically. “N-no cutting in line!” He shakes his bony fingers in her direction, in case the two are in cahoots and Lanara was holding Meri a place.
Uma slips inside the tavern, with the aim of enjoying a discreet glass of wine since that's impossible in Cenril. She's trying to fly under the radar here and has on dark glasses and has piled her dark hair in a ponytail underneath a baseball cap. The mayor, in pursuit of her refreshment, weaves her way through the patrons, recognizing a few along the way. Lanara. Meri, possibly too. Hm. She'll have to make a decision about whether she approaches them, and soon, or it'll be weird. Perhaps not yet, though, the cat man who is grooming himself in front of them is making things awkward. There's something unsettling about him, but not wishing to be racist especially when the cat people comprise a large percentage of Cenril's impoverished population, she says nothing. She approaches the very end of the bar and orders something pink and fizzy.
Lanara is about five seconds away from backhanding some brute that can’t seem to tear his eyes from her legendary derriere. The male was whispering to his two friends, and now the trio of them are in a full-on staring contest with Lana’s arse. Their ‘whispering’ is more like shouting as they are already pretty drunk and the elf is clenching her jaw as her grip tightens around the glass. The fleeting moment of going homicidal passes as a familiar blonde comes into view, and she returns Meri’s smile with one of her own. “Meri!” The mention of the puppies causes her to instantly calm down, and she leans against the bar, giggling, “Still haven’t decided on names? They will come to you when you least expect it, trust me! How are you? How is Cal taking to the two new additions?” They are interrupted by a scrawny male to Lana’s left, and the elf narrows her eyes on the feline. Was he seriously grooming himself in the tavern? And… What the heck just touched her shoulder?! Leave it to Lanara to be wearing a skimpy corset, thus leaving her shoulders bare awaiting the saliva of the feline. She scowls as she dabs at her silken flesh with a cloth, her chocolate hues locking onto the male’s face, his lack of etiquette leaving her uneasy. “You better get out of here. FAST. Or this drink is getting dumped on your head, and my knee will be implanted in your groin.” The threat is heard across the room, as her anger resurfaces. The heat. The packed crowd. Getting licked by a flea-ridden man-cat. It was all adding up. And he had the audacity to call Meri out for ‘cutting’ in line?!
Artia had entered, first time she had left the undead city. She wanted some fresh air and needed a long stroll which only brought her here at the sound of the tavern being full. Was that unusual? Opening the door as she walked in, seeing the many different faces inside. A smirk formed upon ruby pink lips, moving to an luckily empty table. Sitting down she waited till a waitress would ask for her drink, “Whisky.” she looked around searching the bond she shared to see if he was here. Not seeing him since they returned from the training and vacation the Male took her on.
Rorin entered the afternoon tavern scene with a pleasant and quiet stride that said little of his bearing. He wore travelers clothes, looking as a pilgrim as his clothes were embroidered and patched with religious symbols. He would take a seat by the bar, ordering some ale and a small meal besides, taking stock of the other patrons today.
Solas flitters here and there, wings pumping furiously, and it adorable little tuckus bobbing as they do so. He settles upon the ledge of a larger table, and immediately seems bored. He looks about sheepishly before finding himself a mug of water. He smiles, and with some difficulty retrieves it and pours it upon the table. He the produces a frosty dragon scale from seemingly nowhere, and drops it into the center of the now fully covered surface of the table. It might seem odd that so little water seems to cover the entire table, perhaps some magic was at work. Soon the table is covered in ice so cold it produces a gas much like dry ice.
Meri :: The crowd is growing and things are already starting to get mildly out of hand with this creepy feline. He accuses Meri of cutting, Meri flat out ignores him with no care and resumes her conversation with Lanara. "Oh, drop by soon and judge for yourself how Cal is taking to the two new additions." A round about way of dodging the question because Meri didn't know. Those blue eyes flit toward the door shortly after Lanara's threat, catching sight of Uma and Artia filtering in. Meri had a mind to try and wave to Uma to say hello, but there is barely any recognition on the woman's face so it causes Meri to think twice and second guess this. Maybe this response is just because Uma simply does not care for Meri, after all this time. Those blue eyes jerk black to Lanara, a smile to the woman, "Well look, I can't really stay. I just caught a glimpse and thought I would pop in and say hello. Come by soon though, for reals. You remember the directions hm?" Rhetorical. With another smile, Meri head back out the door as quick as she came in.
The feline next to Lanara narrows his eyes at her, not menacing. More like, ‘why am I being threatened if you guys are breaking the moral code of lines?’. The men hollering in the back of the bar at Lanara (or more accurately, at Lanara’s lovely assets) draws Chiko’s attention. The barmaid brings his drink (Mesthak’s NEW SUMMER ALE, limited quantity, seasonal item) so he turns his matted back to her to lop up his drink quickly, less this firey woman follow through on her rash promises. More people try to push their way to the bar from the tables and chairs set up outside to escape the heat, which only makes the tavern that much hotter. In the doorway, two dwarves are attempting to stand on each other’s shoulders to occupy less room but they can’t come to an agreement on who will be the legs. “I ain’t gett’n yur filthy boots near my beard!” Artia’s drink arrives quickly, one of several barmaids bows and offers it to her on the house. Especially since it was such a straight order. Uma in disguise gets an eye roll. This was no time for cocktails woman, look at this CROWD! But her bar maid goes about setting up all the bibbles and bobbles required for her fruity candy drink.
Solas says, "Oooh!" at the sight of the the icy discharge, and smiles in a dragon kind of way, and whispers a few words into the air. Soon tiny little multicolored magical lights are moving about the fog, making a very pretty display. Still inspired, the tiny dragon begins gesturing, and soon small men and women are sliding and dancing among the lights, pairing off and performing intricate routines to the delight of Solas who claps and makes little noises such as, "Heee!" and "Yayyy!' and "Pwweeeeeh!"
Artia offered a fanged smile to the waitress as she finds out her whisky is on the house, taking a large drink from her order before she spots Rorin move inside the crowd. Offering him a nod of her head, did he know about Ava being gone? No, he had been gone probably on missions from the warriors guild. Her eyes left his person, spotting Lanara and if she looked would wave at the female, fellow witch. Her finger running along the brim of the glass, watching as some began doing what ever the little dragon caused them to do.
Lanara continues to stare down Chiko, a look of disgust on her fair face as she watches the ale dribble down his chin and into the matter fur of his chest. Thankfully, he downs the drink rather quickly and leaves her side, wearing more of the summer ale than he had drank, which isn’t really all that surprising considering his lack of manners. Some grubby drow slinks over and literally pulls the half-full glass of ale from Lana’s hand, confusing the witch for a mere barmaid! What was it with these patrons?! Perhaps she would have ordered another ale, or snatched her drink back from the drow, but once more her attention is diverted to the arrival of the death druid, the mayor of Cenril, a paladin, and a fluttering male making quite a mess on a nearby table. They all seem to arrive at the same time and good thing too, as a herd of dwarves arrive behind them. Mesthak better get to brewing, or he’d run out of ale! Artia and Rorin are giving a curt nod, and Uma, should she glance her way, would be given a warm smile. She would recognize the familiar energy flowing through the woman’s veins, though she would never reveal the cover of one that went to lengths to disguise her identity. Solas is given the most blank stare Lana can muster, and as he begins to play with his dragon toys, she arches a brow. It was her cue to leave. The people in this place were bonkers from the heat, dehydrated from the slow flow of summer ale, or perhaps it was a full moon. Either way, Lana had dealt with enough crazy for one afternoon. A few gold coins are left atop the counter, as she makes her way to the exit and gives the three leering men an angry sidelong glance on her way out.
Hudson | Meri excuses herself, and Uma watches the other woman depart before turning back to the bar to finally receive her drink. She only knows one person here now. A shame, she might have liked to catch up, but on the other hand perhaps there is still hope for a quiet drink and some people watching. Solas is doing some interesting things at his table and has attracted a bit of attention for it. But then, Uma catches, out of the corner of her eye, when Chiko the cat man licks Lanara without warning. That decides it for her. Uma takes off her dark glasses, crossing the bar to meet Lanara, who had it handled after all and in any event appears to be on her way out. Uma smiles warmly and squeezes her forearm as the women pass each other.
The dwarves by the door get into a tussle that bumps into Sola’s tabletop performance. On the way out, Chiko the messy feline is tripped. Hissing, he falls and swipes with outstretched claws at the back of an Orc’s haunches. The orc bellows angrily before picking up Artia’s table (glass and all if it’s sitting on top) and smashing it against the ceiling. Splinters and large chunks of wood rain down into patron glasses. Within seconds, shouting and shoving breaks out all across the tavern. The summer heat is only the beginning.
Artia grabs her whisky and watches at the orc hulks out.
The bard maid who just left Artia circles back around under falling debris to make sure she’s all right. “Miss Artia? Are you injured? I’m so sorry.”
Uma, upon watching the development between he feline and the orc, finds herself now unable to continue a path of nonintervention. It's a bad scene for Cenril's mayor to have stood by. She sheds her baseball cap into her bag, which is cavernous and holds all things she could ever need. All manner of medicines, wipes, disinfectants, lipsticks, literal changes of clothes, whatever. She pulls out her wand, rushing into the fray, and flings an invisible barrier around the orc. He bangs his fist on the invisible wall, howling in protest. But it's too late to just contain him. It's a contagion that's spread. Someone shoves her, and she falls into a table.
Solas seems distracted, which wouldn't be out of the ordinary for the focus-challenged creature, but in this case is inattention in accompanied by the magics he had been using be effected dramatically. The ice atop the table begins to drop to the floor beneath it, and then begins to spread exponentially. The lights begin to duplicate and perhaps in some cases Triplicate! So too do the little soldiers. This too would normally not be a problem, however the magics that have gone awry also seems to be causing them to grow. The toy soldiers revert back to their original sense of self, and begin soldiering all over the place! Soon they are in a pitched battle with everyone and everything they can find, even each other! The ice continues spreading along the floor, and when it hits a wall it does not stop! The ice begins to climb! Who knows what will happen when it hits the ceiling.
Artia dust off anything that could had gotten upon her silk blue dress, offering the waitress a smile. Picking a piece of wood from her glass, failing to notice the piece of wood sticking out of her left calf. “yes I believe I am fine.” fine moving to cross her long legs, only just now discovering a pain shooting through her. Her leg had bumped the spike. A snarl showing her bare teeth comes forth, the gold freckles form as an iris that expands over her cyan blue. Such eyes glare at the orc, who is now locked in an..shield? A barrier. Reaching down she rips the wooden spike from her calf, standing up with a wobble. “You. You will feed me to heal the damage you done.” her voice booms, “Release him so I may repay what he has done.”
Thalra having to have become accustomed to certain lands having their grievances with drow, had taken the added precaution of wearing a red robe with a hood and sleeves, about her more casual clothing, as to hide what she was. Partially for her safety, and also to prevent a mob from forming which could endanger others. Her hood covered her face completely in shadow as to hide any element that would make her stand out as drow, as well as wearing red gloves. As she entered the tavern, she made brief note of those present and tried to make her way to the bar, where she would order and iced Bourbon if they had it.
Solas realizes everyone's mistake, and immediately begins explaining how none of this would have happened if only everyone else hadn't let him perform magic in the first place. On his second theory of why everyone else is wrong, one of the soldiers swats him hard enough to send him flying end over end until he strikes a nearby wall where he is immediately coated in ice on it's journey to the ceiling above.
The barmaid's hands tremble at Artia’s injury, stepping to her side to help support her balance while ice coats the floor at an alarming rate. If they aren’t careful… Already patrons packed shoulder to shoulder begin to likewise slip and stumble. The heat is no match for magic ice. One of the barmaids hops on the bar top and calls out over the chaos - “Everyone move towards the exit in an orderly fashion -” But her cries are drowned out by the palpable panic. The scene devolved quickly, to some it’s not worth enduring just for a drink of Mesthak’s new ale! The orc tries to break through Uma’s barrier, snarling at Artia. Solas is, for the moment, overlooked as toy soldiers continue to clash with the wave like mass of bodies that’s attempting to escape.
Uma braces herself on a table, keeping herself afoot in time to hear Artia's demand that she release the orc. Uma does. She cannot contain this. The room has become suddenly very boisterous, filled with people, and the flash of magic. Uma's handlers, Cenrili guards, surround her, and she is shuffled out.
Thalra not easily frazzled by the chaos within, ducks between those fighting and finds her way to the bar. Scraping some ice from the walls with a knife and reaching over the bar, to grab a glass and then a the bottle of bourbon she pours a glass and places the ice in it, then hopping up and sitting on the bar she crosses her legs beneath her robe and observes the chaos. "Typical tavern, typical day." She said with a hidden smile
Solas struggles free of the ice, which has now reached the ceiling and is inching across it and has begun creating some decidedly deadly looking icicles, and shimmies in mid air sending bits of ice flying. He titters in an amused fashion, perhaps it was a chortle or even a somewhat reserved Guffaw, as everyone seems to be having a wonderful time. One by one the soldiers begin to lose steam, obviously in need of winding. Not wanting anyone to stop having fun, he flits over to the nearest and tries to wind it up some more, but the task seems better suited to a larger creature. He watches sadly as the toy once again becomes a toy, shrinking down to what it once was.
A grappling set of feline’s bumps into the frozen wall that housed Solas hard enough to crack some of the ice. The wall behind is also brittle, so the felines tumble through the hole and outside. The orc flares it’s nostrils and charges towards Artia brutishly. A chair is thrown behind the bar, shattering close to where Thalra has her drink. It had been aimed at a toy soldier, but the trinket strunk and was no longer there to catch the blow.
Artia :: As soon as the orc was free, Artia was upon him. Leaping up and upon it's back, locking her legs tightly around the creature. While one hand held the wood spike created from ruining the table held at its throat, her other dug nails inside. A flash of green light being attempted to force inside the orc, if succeeded a gold glimmering light would show as the orcs chi. Which was being pulled into her hand she had used to dig nail into the flesh. Even with her injury, pain shooting through her she was still a warrior. If he tried to put up a fight instead succumbing to the ecstacy she feed into him while feeding on his chi, the spike would be pressed tougher against his neck. Working to slice his neck open, eyes observing the orc for any retaliation against her. After she feed and would start healing, she would plan on sending the same spike into his. A leg for a leg.
Solas flitters over to the newly made hole in the tavern, 'Hmm, this seems superfluous, what with that door over there doing a perfectly fine job!" He looks about as the first of the icicles falls and embeds itself in a table, wincing at the crash. He seems deep in thought for a moment, and then snaps his.. dragon fingers? Claws? Whatever they are, he snaps them and between them appears a bright red scale, similar to the icy scale from before. "If I drop this... " he begins to ponder, before scrunching his face up, for pondering is such a ponderous endeavor.
Thalra rather unfazed by the chair which shattered close behind her, Thalra doesn't show any immediate hostility. "Maybe I should sell that person a Potion of Accuracy." She poured herself another glass and drank from it, then reaching into her pocket she removed green glowing vial, "Mass Paralysis or shrink them all?" She said also pulling out a vial of purple liquid.
Artia laughter echoes throughout the tavern, feeding as she tightened her legs around the creatures ribs. Possibly cracking and or breaking some from the intensity she help on using her vampire strength. She pulled enough of his chi, his life energy to begin healing. Pushing off into a backflip landing in a crouch behind the orc, spinning herself around to thrust the same wood spike into the orcs calf, straight through the other side. Or so she tries. If successful the chi vampire would push herself off to a different table, wishing she brought her drink with.
The bar staff has escaped out the back. Mesthak himself brings a haunting glare to the madness that discourages further trouble from starting. The younger patrons, afraid of being caught sniffing around for alcohol underage, bolt as the orc screams in pain under Artia’s barrage. Ice spikes fall from the ceiling and the scene is ever evolving chaos.
Artia smirked as the orc had became prey, looking around at the now empty tavern shrugs. Deciding time for her to leave, she helped feed into the chaos. Yet, felt wonderful, feeding her inner rage. Moving carefully and dodging any ice spikes falling from the ceiling till she went outside.