Bar Room Blitz

The Tavern is probably not the best place for those not in the adventuring or other such professions. It's dank, dirty, smelly and full of men (and women) who would happily slit your throat for a few coppers in your purse. That said, the food is fairly decent and the ale isn't watered down much, so it makes a perfect place for people to meet if they don't want to draw attention to themselves. One such person is pretty hard to miss, he's clad in a dark hooded cloak that conceals heavy armor and a huge greatsword on his back. He is drinking ale and calmly observing the crowd as they all eye him with undisguised fear and loathing. Perhaps he's had to deal with some of them (and handily) before.

Reva is not the tallest here, but she's taller than many, including more than a few men, and she's got a stern look as she enters the Ox. She shifts her coat and takes a look around as she enters. She heard the ale's pretty bad here, and the food's not safe, but those are rumors, or maybe exaggerations. No one's dead of it anyhow. She takes a look around, and heads over to the table with the tall fellow. "Good afternoon," she says. Taking a look at the other patrons, she says, "Do you mind if I join you? You look like you've bathed more recently than any of the others. Possibly by some weeks."

There's a small sound as another person enters the bar. A gray-green cloak envelopes this figure, hiding much of them from view. Enough so that it is hard to tell if it is male or female, much less what race the person is. Considering the lack of height and slight build few would guess at the larger built of those kind. The figure comes in practically on Reva's heels, but rather than heading toward the table that Reva goes to, the figure takes a table in the back pausing only to motion with one hand for a drink. The only other distinguishing characteristics of this person is the long bow strapped to their back, and the leather bracer on the wrist briefly revealed when ordering the drink. An archer then.

Far from the tallest, Aya enters an establishment that she considers similarly distant from upstanding or healthy. She makes her way for the keep and the bar, perusing the present patronage in passing.

Darius raises a scarred eyebrow underneath his hood and his similarly scarred lip can be seen raised in a small smile in response to the comment about being bathed rather more often than the rest of the patrons. In response raises his foot to push out a chair for her, one that looks like it's been cleaned recently (the others have stains of fluids that one would not want to think about) and a calm low bass rumble emanates from the man, "Feel free if you wish... You seem, similarly to have decent bathing habits..." He slowly raises a hand and motions the barmaid over to take Reva's order.

Since everyone else has mentioned height in their introduction, Dax too is a pretty short human. Though she's coming in from the kitchen, being pushed out by a rather angry cook. "I wasn't I swear! I jus' got lost an' really thought it was another kind of pot. I'll clean it out!" Dax complains as she's escorted out of the kitchen and she puts down a few coins to apologize before she is let go once back into the bar proper. Once there she's grabbing at the corners of her pants and situating them properly before she hits the counter, "Drink!" And with a quick pull, she gets a mug of ale as she starts to walk in the direction of Draius and Reva at the bar. "'ey!" She is loud despite being close by to Darius, and she pulls out a seat to flop down in, gulping down some of her drink.

Reva will take that seat after a glance downward to confirm it's not covered in bodily fluids. Blood or puke seem equally likely here. "Thanks," she replies to Darius, and when the server comes over, she'll order, "Whiskey, neat." Though if it's like everything else here, sloppy is as good as she's going to get. At the commotion from Dax, she winces, though it confirms much of what she's heard about this place. To Darius, and Dax since she's here, she introduces herself, "Reva. Reva Jormunreksfel." That's a mouthful of Stormgarder name, but she looks the part.

Aya looks to Dax and the small commotion outside of the kitchen that then migrates to the bar. As if Aya needed any more reason to avoid the food and drink here. A brow arches at familiar woman. "Enjoying yourself?"

Close by the figure in the cloak winces, as if overhearing Dax's conversation with the chef in the back about... Well. In any case the figure receives their drink and finally pushes the hood of their cloak back somewhat to show lovely elvish features with striking eyes. She takes a drink of her ale and winces again as if displeased with the offering but says nothing. Her eyes slowly look over the tavern again and seemingly satisfied settles her gaze on the group where Dax has settled.

Darius glances over at Dax as she causes the commotion and simply shakes his head and gives a barest of nods to the woman, as he replies to Reva again in that low bass rumble, "Greetings Ms. Jormunrekafel, I am Darius Isaaik..." He then looks up at Aya and gives her the barest of nods as well as she addresses Dax. He returns his gaze to Reva, stopping to look at the elvish archer at the corner table for a moment before doing so. He then says to Reva, "What brings you here?" As he waves his ungauntleted hand to encompass the tavern with an ironic lift of his lip.

Dax is seated at the table with Darius and Reva, but looks up to Aya when she talks and mentions, "Aye. Always." Dax comments before offering with a little scrunched up look, "Well not always, jus' most of ta time." And then to Reva she raises her mug and gulps down a bit more ale, and has to wipe her mouth with her leather sleep before she offers, "Dax. Jus' Dax. Ain't no fancy hard ta say name. Easy." Still grinning before she offers to Darius, "Ya able ta say tha' Jor-muhn-rektafella?" She shakes her head, butchering Reva's surname.

It's the dankest, nastiest bar in the city. Filled with scum, villains and low level bureaucrats. So it's no wonder the massive Ork finds it like a second home. The door shudders open as a great green fist finds it's center and the black armored Korite steps inside.

"AH, Wot dis den? It's already afternoon and no blood on da floor? Youse gett'n sloppy in here!" Baz says as he flexes his fists. The variety of pyramid like spikes all over his armor making the black plate look even more ready for combat. At his hips a pair of crimson stained skulls gawk, their jaws wired in place to make them look as if screaming. His long stride carries him across the floor towards the bar.

"Oy, me usual keg and bucket of stew. Da big greasy meats on top." He says as he tosses a few coins dismissively across the bars surface.

"I'm a bit concerned to ask what you do the remainder of the time," Aya notes to Dax, a corner of her mouth lifting. Her eyes are then promptly drawn to the subtle arrival of the oruch and his discreet order.

Reva says to Darius and Dax, "You can call me Reva. I'm not so formal as all that." She sips her whiskey, which is a bit ... she's not sure what. But no ice or water, at least. They're likely not safe here, is her guess, which is why she ordered it neat. "It's a good name," she says to Dax, though in a bit of a wistful tone. "But nevermind." To Darius, she says, "Well, morbid curiosity is what finally drove me here. I couldn't quite believe all the rumors."

For a moment the elvish archer's eyes meet Darius's, but he looks away and she takes another drink of her ale. Observing the entrance of the man with his spiked, skull-ladened armor draws Rhyn's attention from the group for a moment and there's a twinkle of amusement in her eyes that pulls her lips into a smile before her hand lifts to pull her cloak's hood forward. It seems as though she is trying not to draw attention to herself for whatever reason. Continuing to drink her ale without further wincing at it's flavor.

His eyebrow raising again, he states calmly, "What? That the food and drink are barely passable, the patrons generally will slit your throat if you look at them funny, or that..." He motions to Dax, "Friends end up forgetting where the water closets are?" He turns his head to Dax, "No offense, friend..." His lip barely quirk upwards before returning to Reva, "Reva then..." He looks somewhat amused, and glances at her whiskey, "I take it you are more comfortable at more upscale establishments?" Perhaps he is teasing her slightly. He glances again at the elf and simply gives her a raised eyebrow, but since she is attempting to keep a low profile, he says and does nothing else.

To Aya, Dax smiles and mentions, "Ya ain't got no concerns. I drink, an' fight. There be a few other things I do, but it take ta right kind of fella." And she watches as Baz heads to the bar, and she shouts out, "Baz, come meet Reva. She got some kind of long name." She offers and waves the orc over to the table that probably won't easily accommodate his width. Though she gets up and moves her chair to the side a bit to make room for the large orc, and looks around. There's got to be some kind of... yep, and she moves to the fireplace and starts dragging the bench noisily over to the table. A moment later dropping it with a loud noise, and then taking up a seat on the edge of it. "There, he's a big fella. Needs ta room. An' the food is great, an' ta drink strong. Don't listen ta 'im." Dax mentions in the direction of Darius, "Tho' he right in at least one thing he says." More gulping down of ale.

Yelrona enters fairly discreetly, but any attempt she might have been making to not draw attention to herself fails utterly as a broad-shouldered yellow-bearded khazad with a greatsword strapped to his back that is literally taller than he is stands up almost immediately and roars "YELRONA! There y'are! Been lookin' fer ye high an' low," he adds as he approaches her. "I got a bone to pick with ye!"

"He ain't got nothin' else to do with his bone, that's for damn sure," observes a much taller pale-skinned human woman who gets up around the same time and joins him.

"Ach, enough of yer jokes, woman," the dwarf snarls. "That horse ye sold me last week died in the stable! I want me money back!"

"Lazan," Rona replies with an air of reasonableness, "as I recall you didn't _pay_ any money for that horse. I gave it to you in exchange for you forgiving Yellow Pete his gambling debts. If you want to renege on that deal now, take it up with Pete."

"I'll do just that, then!" the khazad replies before storming out, and his human companion pauses a moment to ask "Yellow Pete is dead, isn't he?"

"Not as far as I know," Rona replies. "He was providing security for an archeological expedition to Genrivian Gorge last I checked, though, so it's possible. No idea where Lazan just stormed off to," she adds, amused, then joins some familiar faces as the woman runs off after her companion.

"Some days," she announces to nobody in particular, "it simply doesn't pay to chew through the straps in the morning. Someone, PLEASE, tell me some good news."

As the keg and bucket arrive, Baz reaches over and selects a dirty serving spoon and then catches up his order in one sweep of an arm. Looking around at the sound of his name he stomps over towards Dax and retinue. Pausing at the selection of table with a quirked brow. Then simply he turns and uses his free hand to drag over a bench for his use. Heedless of the fact that there are two other patrons still sitting on it as he hauls it over. They wisely depart with dark mutterings before they become dark buttering under his quickly seated armored ass.

"Oy, Dax I missed ya. I think I almost got those holes closed ya made in me hide. Strait to me heart girl. Or at least something just as squishy and prone ta bleeding." The big Ork says with a chortle, setting his bucket and keg down. The latter of which he promptly punches the top out of and then licks the foam off his fist.

"Wots a Reva?" He eyes the woman. "Looks soft." Baz chortles dismissively. Then laughs as Yelrona comes in with her usual collection of problems. Before he makes a motion to his food and ale and then to Dax. "Help yerself. After all one day I'm gonna eat ya and add yer skull to me belt. Might as well flavor you up a treat?"

"You're alive and your sense of humor is intact," Aya offers to Yelrona as one option to consider. "I would offer you a drink, but that could threaten both of those."

Reva says to Darius, "An midden in the sewers would be more upscale than here. I prefer the Fernwood, to be honest, and I'm less likely to be a victim of foul play there besides." She shrugs. "But I figure I ought to know the city where I live, ugly underside and all." She shrugs. If she takes any offense, she doesn't say anything. She does look at the big orc, and she'll nod a greeting. "Good afternoon," she says to him. As far as being soft, she bristles at that, but from a seven-foot oruch's perspective, she probably is, and so she just shrugs it off.

Daruis's raised eyebrow gets a disgusted noise from the woman in the corner, and after a second to finish her drink and wave for a new one Rhyn stands up. Uncaring of the fact that his table is /quite/ full of heavily armed and armored individuals Rhyn speaks up, practically yelling as she glares at him. "Stop staring at me!" There's a little moment of silence at the outburst but she seems untroubled by it. It seems that despite her delicate features she fits quite well in a place where one odd look can get you into trouble.

Darius simply says calmly, "True, the Fernwood is better, but..." He pauses when Rhyn yells at him and he turns to her and says simply, "If you don't want to be stared at, then I suggest not drawing attention to yourself..." He sits back, looking at her with an ironic twist to his mouth, "Unless you DO want to, in which case, congratulations all eyes are now on you..." He states calmly before he returns to Reva, "As I was saying, the Ferwood is better, but it's easier to do business and harder to be followed in here, most times if I need to lay low for a few days I come here rather than the usual haunts."

Coming back to the table where Baz dragged his own bench, Dax gruffily lets out a grunt and just slides the bench backwards with a hard push, hitting into a nearby table with limited concern. She moves to the bench that Baz has brought over, and sits down next to him instead. With a look around the table now, she just reaches out and grabs a bit of meat, and starts chewing on it. "Thanks. An' ya ain't gonna eat me till I'm dead." She offers and shakes her head, "By tha' time I'd fill ya wit' so many holes ya bleed out. If ya could even manage ta walk after tha'." More ale goes down as she sits there, looking to Baz before looking to Reva. "Aye. Ta Fernwood so full of witches 'ow can ya ever feel safe? Jus' next moment, be squawkin' cause yer now a chicken fer ta rest of yer miserable life. 'ere all ya got ta look out fer is a knife or two pointed at ya." She's just holding a piece of greasy meat in her hand, and chews down more of it, tearing pieces off with her teeth as she talks. Looking to Baz, and then to the bar to see who Darius is shouting at, "Ya tryin' ta get in tha'? If so, shoutin' ain't ta way. Jus' club'er an' drag 'er upstairs. Or, get 'er drunk." She offers sage advice to Darius on dating.

Reva eyes Darius, says, "Yeah, no one'll follow you here. No one's low key here unless they're dead and robbed, I think. And," she adds to Dax, "The food at the Fernwood won't have you puking your guts up all night, either. Mind you, I don't know which is more likely to make you sick here, the food or the drink. It's like there's a contest." She eyes the orc again. "Though I suppose some are so tough it doesn't matter."

Rhyn bristles at Darius's comment, clearly enraged. Her blue eyes turn stormy and she glares at him as though he is everything she loathes. "OH?" She states the word loudly and then turns practically red as Dax interjects her comment. White teeth flash; pulled back into a snarl. "Is that how it is then. I would like to see you /try/ you twice-cursed, bloody son of a she-dog." She utters a few more curses which even the sailors in the room would have considered twice before uttering and pulls the hammer from her belt, laying it on the table with a loud /thunk/.

There's a wide tusk filled grin from Baz towards Reva when she bristles. "Oy, yeah the Fernwood is good for softies. It's the knifings that make this place fun. Dinner an a show, aye?" The chortling laugh only grows louder as Dax speaks up. He takes a big serving spoonful of stew and slurps it down then grins at Dax.

"I bet you would. But Kor has kept me going through worse. 'sides he wants me to deal with that Necromancer. He told me I needed ta find that Thulish ass and ream him good. All I found was his acolyte, but I made a puppet of him on me big sword." The Ork jerks his thumb at the massive cleaver-like blade over his shoulder. "Den I took his head and left the rest. Wont him ta know I'll be back, and a headless corpse I split up the down hole is the least he's gonna get. Me God is bigger den his God and all that."

He grins at Reva. "Food here will make you harder. Let you survive on the march. When I was in Skald we ate kobolds and Demons. Dis is like fine venison!" He pops a greasy bit of flesh into his mouth and chews, talking with his mouthful. "Wmaafh, like cake, hah!" Then slowly the big Ork turns his attention towards Rhyn.

"Hah! Da little Elf has a mouth on it! Oy, look at the little squirrel snap it's jaws!"

"Well, the quality of patronage and activities here certainly haven't changed," Aya observes to no one in particular. She does offer, more directly to the oruch, "I wouldn't judge too heavily on one's size."

In truth, Darius wasn't even intending romance, other than have some pleasant conversation with Reva at his table but Dax's comment makes him wince and mutter, "Oh for the Gods' sake..." He is about to reply sharply to Dax, maybe something about staying out his love life (or lack thereof) and then starts to look annoyed as Rhyn takes the comment for gospel truth. He sighs and says to Reva, "Excuse me for a moment..." He stands and faces Rhyn, "Why would I try? What in the God's name would make you think I am attempting to make a pass at you, are you that hard up for a man that you take a glance as a sexual overture? Believe me, I have far more important things to do then try and woo you, not that I think you'd take being wooed very well." He moves to go sit down again, definitely not very good in the conflict resolution department.

Reva arches a brow as Rhyn starts to pull out her hammer, and her hand goes into her coat, but when she puts the hammer on the table, Reva pulls her hand out again and takes a sip of her drink, bad as it is. She nods reluctant agreement with Baz about the Fernwood. "Knifings are rare, there, it's true. Some folk prefer that," she offers, her tone carefully neutral. As far as food making her harder, she says dryly, "I'm just not that hard, I'm afraid." She watches Darius deal with Rhyn, wincing. But she says to him, when he sits back down, "That's a no-win situation, there. Nothing you can say is going to do any good. She's either going to spend her fury and sputter off, or she's going to attack. As to which, I've seen both." She shrugs.

"She-dog?" Dax repeats, "She-dog?!" And she starts laughing, "Ta pretty one can't even say bitch. Ya should find yerself someone else." She mentions to Darius. Though when Darius starts to get all stand uppity she looks over to Baz, "They already cute. Like warthogs rollin' around in ta mud. Or otters. One bashin' ta other till they can't say no. It's really kind of sweet." She shakes her head a little bit, before adding, "Plus, if'n they get real upset, maybe they'll put on a show fer ta rest of us." Watching the two, she looks back and forth between Rhyn and Darius, and then speaks up a bit louder. "'ey, if ya gonna be wrestlin' naked try an' do it over there." Pointing in the direction of the fireplace, "Tha' way I don't gotta turn my neck so far ta see. An' this large fella is blockin' my view if ya do." Then she gulps down more of her ale. Then to Reva, "No no, ya want 'er ta spend 'er fury. Angry women are ta bes' fer fuckin'. Trust me, I get pretty mad." Nodding a few times, as she grabs more meat to consume.

Before every storm there is an unearthly calm. A moment where you can take a breath, and feel the utter stillness in the air. Rhyn stands there red with fury. Nothing that anyone says makes it any better. In fact it only seems to fuel her ire. Yet when she speaks it is with that air of utter calm that bespeaks the moment where there is no turning back and the storm finally lets loose itself. "You have one chance to take back your words you self-righteous -" There's more cursing, some of it in sildanyar. Then she wraps her hand around the hammer so tightly that her fingers turn molted and white.

The big Ork leers over at Aya. "Ahh, a girl o' Taraa, eh? Ye, size not always a big issue. Yer kind knows o eat'n flesh too heh?" The massive barrel chest chortles as Baz laughs. Then he looks to Reva and snorts. "Love advice? Oy, dis should be good." He grins and turns towards Dax when she speaks and absently refills her mug from his own keg before he takes a long pull on it. Almost passing into choking at what she says.

"Fwaagh. She's right about dat. She's very angry, and it's good for it too." The big Ork chortles. Then the big Ork pulls out a silver coin and hammers it into the wood of the table so hard it stands up on one end. "I got me bet on the elf girl if dey wrestle. If he ain't even gonna cuss at her. I bet he goes one over and does da I don't hit women bit. Like dem Paladins that end up missing a nut and go'in back ta the choir a few notes higher in the song, right? Hahaha!" When he sees Rhyn rise his laughter subsides some and his thick fingers produce a single iron nail from a pouch at his waist.

You can practically see Darius mentally banging his head against the table, or mentally strangling Dax as she makes things that much worse for him. The comment by Reva only gets a tired sounding, "Yes, I'm sure you're right..." The comment by Rhyn only makes his him sigh more and he gets up and offers his greatsword to Reva, "Here, hold on to this for me, I'd rather not have to pay another fine if I end up killing her and having to get it out of impound." He shrugs his hood and cloak aside and says to Rhyn, "Fine, let's go then, you clearly are spoiling for a fight no matter what I say."

Reva arches a brow at Dax's comment. "I /see/. I suppose it's going well, then, she looks like she wants to disembowel him." If her tone were any more ironic, it'd open its own forge. Her hand goes to her own sword hilt under her coat, though, and she says to Rhyn, "Calm yourself; he hasn't done /anything/ to you, and if you start a fight in here, it's even odds whether you die from a knife in the back or an infected wound. They probably have otyughs in the kitchen for a midden, You don't want to get tossed in that." She'll hold Darius's sword for him, though, and says sourly, "If you two both /want/ to fight, do it without weapons."

Rhyn spares a glance at Reva. "Don't tell me to /calm/ myself. You lot are just as bad as he is suggesting..." She shudders and doesn't finish her sentence but she looks like she's bitten into something nasty. Meanwhile she unhooks her cloak and takes off her bow; her quiver. She's wearing leather armor underneath the cloak, something that like the cloak itself would easily lend itself to disappearing in the forest. Rhyn leaves her hammer on the table though, still seeming on that edge of calm. Waiting to explode any second. "As for /you/. Just take your words back and I will resist the urge to unman you." She grins ferally.

"Awwww. No weapons?" Dax shakes her head, watching as the silver coin gets pounded into the table by Baz and then she's looking over at Rhyn with some squinted eyes. Just trying to focus through the alcohol, that's all, as she wobbles some. "Ya two, if yer gonna wrestle. It's Ox tavern rules." She nods her head a few times, looking around, "Ya got ta strip down ta yer bare'ta nothins. An' that ta make sure neither o' ya are cheatin'. An' then, ya fight. Fists, kicks, hair pullin', shots below ta waist, all of it legal." As she talks she's flinging her arm about loosely to indicate the Ox, the two combatants, and also some drunken pointing. She gulps down some more of her new ale, and pounds it on the table a few times, "Let ta fightin' start. Loser buys me a drink." She states, and nods her head to Baz, "Ta fellas I seen a few of 'em, not willin' ta fight a woman. I'd cut more'n a nut off 'em. Teach a fella lessons. Ya better not 'old back when fightin' a woman, else ya one dead fella."

Aya now offers Baz a roll of. "Not of my enemies, if that's what you imply." She seems to agree with Reva and Darius as she adds, to the would-be fighters (or bare wrestlers if they take Dax's suggestions), "Somewhere with a bit more room might be wise, too." She gestures a hand to the door.

He glares at Dax, "Stop HELPING!" He then snarls at Rhyn, "I said what I said because I meant it, you stupid woman, If you're in heat any one of these men would gladly take you upstairs for a tumble!" At her mention of unmanning him, he says simply, "Let's see you try, I'm sick and tired of you threats, your temper and YOU! If I have to knock some sense into you, and toss you into the river to cool off, so be it!" He starts removing pieces of armor, it'll allow him to fight bare-handed better.

Reva says to Dax, as if trying to be helpful, "The fight will last longer without weapons. With this thing," she hefts Darius's sword, "it'd be over in one stab. You wouldn't want that. Bare knuckles was how things got solved back home," she admits. "If one or the other wasn't going to hear reason." She sighs as Darius starts stripping off armor, though she says to him, "Just as well to leave it on. Or you'll be here all night."

The big Ork grins towards Aya. "Oh, yer friends then? Or just slaves?" He chortles and shifts on his bench looking towards Reva. "Ya really don't like it here do ya? Hrmm." Those black eyes squint at the woman before he turns his attention to the loud Dax. His laughter snapping back as he listens to her list of rules and conditions. Then he starts eating his stew, wolfing down ladel-fulls as if he's expecting to have to vacate the building quickly. His nail holding hand soon adds a pinch of what looks like cow hair to it's fingers. Between his slobbering mouthfuls he comments to Dax.

"Oh you have dat right, if she'll fight den you gotta take her serious. Too many girls just be victims, but the ones that fight. They fight. Heh-hah. It's always a good bloody mess dey leave." Then he grins at the pair of possible combatants. "Hey ya, fight in the nude. Den if ya decide ya'd rather hump each other we don't 'ave ta wait for the clothes ta come off. I'll even ask Kor ta make some better light so everyone can get a good wink at ya."

Rhyn doesn't wait for Darius to strip off his armor. Doesn't really seem to care if he does. She lets out a noise of pure rage and picks up her bow. Not to use it as a bow it seems that she has forgotten for this particular moment what a bow is usually used for. Instead she launches herself at Darius with the bow in hand, clearly seeking to beat him over the head with the weapon. "AND I'M SICK AND TIRED OF YOU!"

Darius just calmly removes his breastplate and uses it to block the bow and says, "Temper temper..." He taunts as he shoves her away dropping his improvised shield and letting the rest of his armor fall. He stands there in just leggings and then rushes at her, "Let's see how good you really are, you bitch in heat!" He tries to punch her in the face.

Reva says to Baz, "Oh, no, it's fine. I just need to find my proper place here. No bloody nobles, at least, not in a dump like this," she says, her tone easy. "I've seen a few fights in my time. Sometimes the booze does the talking, and I can't imagine this rotgut has anything good to say at the best of times." She sighs as Rhyn attacks, and has a weary sort of look. But it's not a fight with weapons, so she won't try and stop it. Sometimes people just need to get it out of their system. And then Darius fights back, and she'll just watch and sip her whiskey.

Dax chuckles at Reva and she shrugs a little, though says kind of quietly, "I wasn't really thinkin' about it too much." She offers to the other woman at the table, with a big grin as she gulps down more ale. To Baz she nudges a little bit, "Ya right 'bout tha'." She stays seated at the table where things are starting to heat up. Looking over at Rhyn she shouts, "Don't let 'im push ya around. He was tha' son of a she-dog starin' at ya!" She hollers and then to Darius, "Not in ta face, ya idiot! Below ta neck, ya wanna pretty face ta wake up ta!" She's standing back up and using Baz's shoulder to kind of balance herself as she watches. Now she's watching, from over Baz's head, "Who's the god of love? Cause I may jus' be 'er priest..."

"Oy deres nobles in here." The big Ork says to Reva. "Dey like ta try an slum ya see? Get and see the color and get a good scare on. Dey good for business, drop a lot of coin and don't make a big mess. Unless o' course dey piss off the wrong drinker, then they get spread like butter across the floor." Baz chortles as he reaches back and pats Dax on her hip as she leans on his shoulder. Likely using the goblin seat sized spaces between his spikes he had made for his daughter's to ride.

"God o love? Dats a hard one, I think it's Althea? Though I fink Tarrien is the God of right now. Hah! Mebe you should get in dere Dax, show'm how it's done? Two of dem and one of you might be a fair fight if dey keep some armor."

Rhyn easily dodges the first blow, light on her feet and fuled by her rage. She follows the dodge with another set of attacks, each one more brutal than the last. Fist, bow. Bow, fist. It's clear this isn't her first fight by any measure as she uses her makeshift weapon to keep him back to where his fists can be of less use to him. But it's also clear that she's more rage than fighter at the moment. Attacking more blindly than she should.

Darius isn't as fast so he gets tagged by a couple of fists and bow shots and growls, tasting blood from a split lip. He's also familiar with fighting and so takes the hits to get inside her range and try and tag her with a few body shots and follow up with an uppercut. It's fighter versus barbarian at WrestleTavern 37!

Reva smirks to Dax, and says to Baz, "The point is, they can't go throwing some title in your face. If they do, and you make them eat it, no one'll care much, and the watch'll tell him it's his own fault for coming here." She watches the fight without comment. What can she say at this point? It's not like they're listening to anything.

Speaking of Tarien, His Inquisitor has been watching this particular bar brawl building up steam with an amused air for quite some time. Rona briefly considers intervening, but when it becomes clear that the participants aren't likely to significantly injure each other, she hangs back and begins keeping score and perhaps making a little off the top instead. "Two points to Rhyn!" she calls out, then "two to Darius! One - two - the score is four-three in Rhyn's favor! Anyone interested in laying down bets, house is offering even odds and a two percent rake." A couple of patrons approach her to lay bets.

"Get in there? Wha' be ta fun of tha'." Dax mentions shaking her head a little, "I wanna see some blood. I'd jus' go in there an' it end. Far too quick." She offers with a shrug as she downs some more of her ale. There's a few spikes lightly jabbing into her armor's metal bits, but she doesn't much seem to care about those, otherwise she is using those spike-less shoulder areas for leaning on and keeping her legs back a bit so as to not get jabbed themselves. "Maybe if ta loser don't buy me a drink, then I go after'em." She states easily and finishes more of her mug as she watches with a grin, "Jus' like lil' kittens." Turning her attention only slightly in Reva's direction, "I ain't never let no one throw some title in me face. Jus' take the title, an' tear it up, I say."

"Dis is true, com'in in here means you gotta take what you get." Baz replies to Reva. He lifts his half full mini keg up high enough for Dax to refill her mug from it. Then takes a pull on the drink himself before he goes back to eating while he watches. Setting the nail and bovine hairs down within easy reach on the table as he uses his hands to alternate drink and food. Finally he chortles and comments to Dax. "Buy you a drink eh? Isn't it supposed ta be the other way around? Hah!" He grins and glances over at Rona, then motions to the silver coin he hammered half way into the table. "Me bets on the girl. Elves is sneaky."

Rhyn takes a couple of punches and backpedals quickly to avoid the uppercut. She's not done though, clearly a woman who can take a hit or two without crumbling under the pressure. The elvish ranger swings her bow a couple more times to get him back before rushing forwards to attack with fists more than her unusually used bow. She dodges back again, trying to evade any more retaliation from Darius.

At this point something happens. A stern-looking woman appears between the two fighters like magic and grabs them both by the ear. She shakes them both vehemently and scowls down at them. It's not hard to recognize her, she's the owner of this very establishment. "Now listen 'ere. You two are BOTH going to apologize right now, or so help me you'll both be out on your ears!" She shakes said body parts firmly.

Reva says to Dax, "That's a bit of situational, unfortunately. In some places, titles mean rich, connected, and basically above the law. Other places, not so much. From what I can tell of this place, the nobles are quite low-key. I approve of that. I even heard that some princess from the Vast works for the Guild." She's watching the fight, up until the owner intervenes, and she smirks. "Well, that's a woman with more chutzpah than me. I wasn't going to get between those two.

"That can get you kicked out if you try it in a title bar," Rona observes straight-faced to Dax, then pries the silver piece loose with a nod to Baz... just in time for the fight to be decisively won by Ma Oxley. This gets a long laugh out of her. "The betting pool has a WINNAH!" she shouts, when she finally recovers, turning to a startlingly well-dressed gnome standing on top of a nearby table. "Chaching Moneylender of Happy Valley was the only person to bet on Ma Oxley winning the fight, which in retrospect was probably a safe bet," she observes.

She picks a couple of coppers out of the pile of coins, pockets the rake, and hands the pile over to the gnome, who calls out "A round for the house on me!" and hands his winnings to Ma Oxley.

Darius grunts as he blocks and dodges a couple, still getting tagged, he's about to fight back when the owner gets in between them and grabs their ears. He winces and leans back and finally, "Gah, I'm sorry, I'm sorry!" He glares at Rhyn, "I'll stop if she does."

Rhyn winces and with a painful jerk pulls her ear free of the woman's grasp. One hand comes up to rub the ear. "I'm sorry." She doesn't sound it and she stalks toward the table where her things are and starts to gather up her equipment with jerky motions. Gray eyes keep sliding toward Darius with clear rage in her eyes. "I was just going anyways." With that she stalks out of the place.

-End-