RP: Telecorn gets Arrested

         The common room of the Fernwood Pub dominates the inn, spacious and airy because of the high, vaulted ceiling. Ornately carved beams of dark, polished wood form a lattice overhead, supporting the arched roof two storeys above the floor. To the right of the double-door entry is a spiral staircase, winding upwards to a balcony that rings and overlooks the main area. Large windows at this level grant an excellent view of the river to the west and colorful market stalls to the north and east. An air of coziness is salvaged by keeping the pub dimly lit; parchment-shrouded mana lanterns hang at intervals from the base of the balcony, nestled amongst lush, magically propagated ivy and ferns that grow over this false demi-ceiling and the struts that support it.

         The bar is sleek and simple, comprised of meticulously polished black lacquer. Tables are set under the darker niches formed by the balcony floor as well as on the balcony itself. A few are deliberately sized to accommodate halflings and gnomes, but the majority are meant for human-sized individuals. A large common table is on the main floor, set before a semi-circular stage situated against the western wall. Beside it, with pipes mounted upon the wall and running up past the balcony and almost to the ceiling, is a refurbished pipe organ made to look like the one lost when the Fernwood was destroyed during the Merkabah Siege.

Polk is still flying around this fair city, making a map of it. Which is a great excuse to fly. But flying works up an appetite, so the bird man lands, and enters the nearest pub to see about getting food.

Telecorn made a mistake. She got drunk. Well not drunk drunk. She had a drink. Which, when you're a little half-sil, is enough. She's starting to get a little loud now, laughing and banging on the table. "No no no look, it's totally cool, watch, I can do stuff." She then points to another patron, wriggling her hands, and suddenly the nice man's face looks like it has a pig nose. For a moment.

Myaris makes her way into the pub, her hood is down showing her grey skin and silver hair. She looks around a little and starts towards the bar and then blinks as she notices the goings on.

A little gnome and a black fox walk into a bar... "An' t't pub gets a bit more dutty." Ralickwort's entrance is unusual to say the least. The bartenders stare at him and point back out of the door, but he ignores it. He looks at Pol and Telecorn, and almost turns away again, but wanders over instead.

Polk trills a laugh. He picks an out of the way place to sit, in a corner, where he can get a good look at what's going on. The sorcerer is doing something. This should be fun.

Telecorn gets glared at by piggy man when a few people laugh at hime of course. His hands go to his face, and well, she didn't actually DO anything. "Illusions!" she claps, laughing at her own talent. "What else?" Now she picks on on someone else, right behind Ralickwort. Her face is covered in warts, for a moment, with a wriggle of her fingers. "Eww ugly!" she giggles.

Myaris shakes her head, "You should be careful with that, even if it is illusions, it can still make people upset enough." she shakes her head, "I know they can be because my presence still does that sometimes." she does order herself some warm cider.

Polk sits in the corner, and orders himself some beef, which he starts tearing into and gobbling down, along with some light ale to wash it down. He's watching Telecorn's antics, making 'funny' illusions on people's faces, and nods at Myaris's advice, but doesn't speak up.

Ralickwort is amused. He begins to chuckle, then to laugh, then to quake uncontrollably with thick, horrible belly laughter. It's a disturbing kind of sound. The fox rolls around in the sawdust; then, Ralickwort just stops.

Telecorn looks at Myaris. The short half-sil is pink-cheeked from the one drink she had, but at her size, it was enough. "Oh come on I'm not hurting anybody, see, she's pretty again. And pig nose is normal again." She then points at the ceiling, and mock-gasps. "Oh gods the place is on fire." as a small illusion of a flame appears on a beam.

Myaris shakes her head, "That isn't the point. It is a misuse of the magic you possess." she is a bit on the serious side but then she always has been. She takes her warm cider and moves to sit by the fire.

Stirling comes into the pub just in time to ruin all the fun, trailing a thin line of smoke from the furnace he looks around with a grimace as he fills the doorway. "What in the world is going on here?" he growls.

Polk points to the ceiling, where Telecorn's illusion is. "I'm not sure there's a fire there, but some people think there is. Someone'd better put it out, but I haven't prepared Create Water." Yes, he plays along.

When Telecorn points out the fire, there's immediately a shriek of panic, and people start to get up and get agitated. A couple of drinks are thrown at it, which just causes the booze to land on someone else, which raises tempers further.

And in the center of it is Telecorn, giggling. But what she doen't see is the pub owner coming up behind her, and about to call for the guards. "You've had enough," he says, grabbing her shoulders and making her eep.

Myaris shakes her head, "Warned you." she says and chuckles a little. She looks over at the one that comes in and shakes her head, expecting to fully get blamed for it, just because of who she is.

Stirling eyes the illusion as people throw drinks at it, his red glowing artifical eye extending just a little as it focuses in on the fire. "Illusionists... what a waste of magic. Could turn that pent up enebrgy into mana to power my furnace." he says as he orders his own drink, with ale in hand he moves to sit at the same table as Myaris. "You look like you appreciate quiet." is all he offers in the way of greeting.

Polk stands. "Careful now," he calls out to Telecorn. "You might regret this. Fun is fun but aspire to englightenment."

Telecorn struggles against the grip of the tavern owner, and well, she's limber enough to break free. The drunk half-sil runs into the middle of the room, and looks at Stirling. "I have real fire too!" She then raises her hands, and sends a blast of flame in a cone out from them, right out the door. Fortunately nobody was walking in right at that moment.
That tears it, now the pub owner calls for the guards, a pair of whom come in, and are pointed to Telecorn. The chase is on!
She's drunk enough that they'll have no trouble catching her though.

Myaris turns and looks at Stirling and then nods her head a bit, "At times yes, oh I know a few spells that can entertain, but not to that degree and having fireworks of little dragons in here probably wouldn't be the best." she blinks as she watches Telecorn and shakes her head a bit, "At least I am not being blamed for that." she looks back to Stirling, "Myaris Blackclaw." she offers her name.

Ralickwort sighs, mutters something under his breath... Stirling doesn't seem to react to the fire, being fire resistant offers that kind of confidence. "Stirling Ironheel." he offers to Myaris. "I am glad to hear your not as careless with your magic. At the very least its nothing that will do much harm, now when shes casting things that might level the building I will start worrying. Might scuff my armor." Ralickwort finally waves his hands in Telecorn's direction. "Sleepytime!" he shouts. Disturbing. The rest is up to Telecorn, then.

Telecornis going to start hopping from table to table casting cantrips in a dramatic attempt to evade arrest. But... suddenly she's very sleepy. And given that she was already buzzed, it's no problem knocking her out. Then the half-sil is hfted up by the guards and carried out to the drunk tank.

Ralickwort accepts a third-pint from the bartender as payment, then gives it to the fox. He sits down next to Myaris. "Hullo."

Polk tosses a coin to the pub owner to pay for his food. He feels a little bad for the sorcerer. She was putting on an entertaining show, but he didnt' try to help her out. He egged her on. So he chases after her, a hunk of beef in one hand, nibbling on it as he runs out to try to lobby for leniency.

Myaris nods her head, "Yeah, it culd be worse." she smiles a little and looks at Ralickwort and dips her head, "hello." she offers to him as well. She sips some of her cider, "I follow Eluna, not if I followed Tarien I might have been up there with her." she shakes her head a bit.

Stirling grumbles "Terrienites.. would be about right. I pray to the shield maiden..." he says indicating the questionable tattoo on his arm. "...but I don't think what that was, was a matter of faith. Its something I expect from a goblin... or a gnome." he says eyeing Ralickwort

Myaris cocks her head to the side and then smiles, "I do not know myself, have really only been around the elven peoples until recently."

Stirling grins "Welcome to Alexandria. We have all sorts here and you should find yourself at home enough, I know you folks get a hard time more often than not but you should be ok here." he notes idly.

Myaris nods, "I got a little bit of a hard time when I arrived but it has gotten a bit easier."