Graveyard Smash

It is well known in Alexandria, that the adventurer's guild takes every scrap of information seriously. A ghost haunting the halls of a particular back alley? Send someone out! It didn't hurt to error on the safe side, and eventually they always got paid. So even as far-fetched as 'stolen evil artifact' sounds (which it really doesn't given the fact that SO many people in the guild have dealt with such things in the past...), a request was put out for information on Zalgiman Joaki.

Tonight, though it is in fact quickly growing close to morning, the man has finally been spotted after a long absence from Alexandria. He's not actually even _in_ Alexandria technically. Not in the main city at least. He's been spotted in a small inn on the outskirts of the Felwood.

"He's been there all night, but it took some time to verify that it's him. There's someone with him. Tall man, green eyes. Nice clothes. We haven't disturbed them, so it's up to you how you guys want to play this."

There's a list -- thankfully, a -short- list -- of people Telamon really, deeply dislikes. As in, thinks they'd be better off in a coffin. And Zalgiman is very much on that list. But... Tel's also aware that Zalgiman's a conniving, tricky little bastard, and charging in guns and spells blazing might not be the -best- option.

"Are we -sure- it's him?" is Tel's first response. "I hate to be a pain in the arse about this, but last time we faced him, he almost fooled us into murdering an innocent woman who'd been changed into a huge wolf. I really don't want to put the arm on some poor innocent who's been stuck wearing his face." The half-elf runs his hand through his hair. "And I wonder who this green-eyed fellow is, too..."

Dirk has a dark, stormy scowl on his face. The kind that makes his bushy white brows scrunch together like a pair of angry attack-caterpillars, and his beard bristle like a cat ready to unleash hell. Even Lulu is tall and skinny, giving her owlish death-stare to anyone unfortunate enough to have her eyes pointed at them at any given moment. "-Zalgiman-," he growls, drumming his fingers menacingly along the stock of his thunderbelcher. "Oh, I've got some -things- I'd like tae say to -that- arsehole." Lulu twitches her wings. "Hoo." Seems she has some things she'd like to say to Zalgiman as well. He glances over at Telamon and boggles a bit. "He -did-? Och, I dinnae think 'im the clever sort..."

Night time is Culix's time, and so she's bright eyed and alert despite- or rather because- of the hour. She's got her woolen cloak on and a pair of brand new boots, extremely soft leather stained a deep grey. Soft soled and very quiet.

The goblin scratches her cheek beneath the hood of her cloak as they get the lowdown on their target- unlike the others, she doesn't seem to have any personal vendetta against the guy. But she's signed up all the same. "I could see if I could sneak up, get a closer look. Maybe even rifle through a pocket or two if the conditions are right." she suggests, as for her own modus operandi.

Cor'lana Lupecyll-Atlon has her arm wrapped around her rather-recent husband's, and she squeezes it a little to quietly reassure him that everything will be fine. "I suppose I could try a variation on the same trick from last time," she says. "I could cast magic on myself to make myself appear different, so that Zalgiman won't catch on--I'm sure he won't be fooled twice. Perhaps we could lure him out of the inn and capture him if we get him away from his friend."

Her eyes narrow a little. "I just wish we knew /anything/ about the 'friend'."

Pothy is on her shoulder, too, and he makes a sound that is very much an imitation of a sigh. He whistles to Cor'lana, and the sorceress just facepalms. "I'm not translating that."

Aelwyn neither had any personal experience with this Zalgiman, but it was not hard to pick up on the hostility exhibited by the others in the party. Wearing a raggy looking cloak over his ruddy scales, he glances across the others.

"This one could go serve a hot meal," The draconian suggests, then gestures with his fingers. "All over them. It is usually effective getting people out of the inn." Not that he would have before resorted to using such tricks working as a waiter.

"We don't know anything about his companion, but the two seem to be having a good time - somewhat at the expense of the waitstaff. Our informant didn't want to get too close before the professionals stepped in. But we're sure from the description we have both in personality and in looks that this is the man requested. Furthermore we don't think he knows that anyone wants information on him. He seems like he's blowing off steam." The man behind the counter shrugs. "But you ought to hurry. It's a bit of a trek if you want to make it there before they vanish."

Telamon mulls over the ideas presented. "Not sure... although the prospect of rifling their pockets does have some appeal." He offers Culix a grin. "We can even help you with that." His arm linked with Cor'lana's, Tel smiles at her, and looks thoughtful. "Maybe a combination? Have Aelwyn drop the tray on his friend, while you distract him and lure him off? If we can separate them..."

Telamon inclines his head to the guild representative. "Let's get going. We can talk more on the way, see if we can polish this plan. Lana and I will need to cast preparatory spells anyways as we go."

Dirk harrumphs. "-I- just want tae kick 'is dozy arse betwixt 'is scummy shoulders," he grumbles. "I dinnae care fer the way he tricked me. Nor do I care fer how he disrespected Missus Cor'lana. Messin' wi' a dwarf's friends is -almost- as bad as messin' wi' his beard!" He blinks. Blink blinks again. Then a slow, huge grin starts spreading across his face. He looks up and around at his friends. "What... what if I were tae march in there an' challenge 'im to a drinkin' contest? Eh? Think he'd go fer that?"

Culix nods her head a bit, "I can eavesdrop a bit before we make a scene, too." she adds a moment later. "I've got everything I need. I can fetch my horse from the stables on the way out." she tells the others, ready and raring to go.

"Yes, spellwork will have to be done on the way," Cor'lana says. Her eyes light up as she looks at Dirk. "No, wait, that's actually brilliant," she says. "What if I go in disguised with my spell and 'incentivize' Zalgiman to leave with me if he wins the drinking contest? He does have a massive ego, so..."

She looks apologetically at Telamon. "And if I really want to sell it, I have to take the ring off. Sorry in advance, love."

Pothy hops onto Telamon's shoulder and whispers, "When does the show start?" in Cor'lana's voice. He did miss Cor'lana flirting with Zalgiman the first time around, so he's clearly eager to see this hot mess unfold.

Aelwyn picks up his glaive, leaning it against his shoulder. "Hmm, and what would Dwarf offer as a prize?" The ruddy scaled sith-makar asks, with a tilt of his head. "The threat of a good time?" Sharp toothed grin.

Taking in a deep breath, he rolls his shoulders, toes clawing at the ground. "This one is ready for the walk. Perhaps if the tray is not good enough, this one could simply set the drinks on fire."

GAME: Ravenstongue casts Mage Armor. Caster Level: 12 DC: 17 GAME: Telamon casts Mage Armor. Caster Level: 12 DC: 17 GAME: Ravenstongue casts Alter Self. Caster Level: 12 DC: 18 GAME: Telamon casts Overland Flight. Caster Level: 12 DC: 21 GAME: Dirk refreshes spells. GAME: Dirk casts Perceive Cues. Caster Level: 7 DC: 14 . The establishment you are given careful instructions to is... small. Dilapidated, and looks more like a run-down cottage than a watering hole. You gather near the barn to flesh out your plan. The better to not be overheard, particularly given that the horses will likely warn if anyone unusual approaches their sleeping place. They do after all make a small amount of rukus when you arrive. The inn itself is called simply "Smashed" with the sign of a broken tankard on the signage.

Telamon glides in, the planes of force that serve as wings for his flight spell folding in against his back as he lands next to the barn. "Hmm," he muses. "The guild representative said they'd been giving the waitstaff a hard time. If this goes sideways we don't want them caught up in the fight. Maybe we could gently encourage them to slip out while Lana's distracting Zalgiman and Dirk's trying to drink him under the table?"

He pauses, then grins at Dirk. "Well, 'try' might not be the best verb, friend. I'd wager you could drink any man or wolf under the table."

Dirk lumbers into the barn, reaching up a hand to gently pat horse noses and flanks. "Shhh, there now, easy, there's a good lad," he rumbles soothingly. Last thing anyone needs is the horses getting agitated. Fortunately, the burly old woodsman knows a thing or two about being an animal whisperer. Telamon gets a -look- and an indignant harrumph. "Well, I should certainly -hope- so! There's nae tallfolk alive what could outdrink -me-!" he grumbles. He sneaks a glance over towards the ramshackle tavern, then looks back to his friends. "Right... so how're we playin' this? Me an' Cor'lana sashay in, she does the voodoo that she do so well, an' make the challenge?" He gives his beard a tug as he considers. "Aelwyn an' Culix should probably be seein' what they can figure 'bout his companion. Now that we know Zalgiman's a Caracorothite, I'd be leery of any chuff who'd call -him- a friend."

"So what's the deal with this guy? You all seem to hate him." Culix wonders of her companions- riding the horse sidesaddle because it is definitely not a pony, it is a horse, and it's too big for her by a decent margin. When they draw near, she ties off her horse a little ways away and finishes the journey on foot.

"So, shall I start off by sneaking up and listening in while you lot get ready to distract and potentially assault?" she wonders of the others once they finally arrive. "Might get an inkling as to who this other fella is. You lot come in a few minutes later to make a scene, or if I start swearin' cause things have gotten cocked up."

Protective magic is woven... And so is an alteration spell. Cor'lana is no longer herself, but rather a generously-figured woman with waves of dark hair. Her blue eyes hold a wit to them, and her ruby-red lips hold a coquette's easy-going smile. The curuchuil markings on her chest and hand are hidden with the magic. She quietly shifts the ring on her left hand to her right, offering another apologetic look at Telamon in the process. "You know, there's something to be said about following in your parents' footsteps, but I didn't think I'd be following Mother's steps quite like this," she says.

Poor Pothy just stares at Cor'lana for a long moment (having taken up a roost on Telamon's shoulder). "Mother's daughter," he remarks quietly, before he looks at Telamon. "Good luck."

"Zalgiman is an agent of Caracoroth," Cor'lana explains to Culix and Aelwyn. "He's strong, he's powerful, and he's dangerous. Fortunately, we're also all aware that he's susceptible to a pretty face that offers him charming words. So, I think your idea is wise, Culix--he won't recognize you. I'll be busy... distracting Zalgiman, as will Dirk with his drinking contest. Aelwyn can come in and drop soup if needed for another distraction."

Aelwyn reaches behind him into his satchel and slides off a coin, that he balances between his fingers. "This one believes the staff can be sufficiently convinced to leave the inn alone for a time." He gives a glance towards the less than welcoming looking establishment. "... especially in a place of this noticeable quality."

The Dragoon gives Culix a nod. "This one can serve the customers and keep an eye out for her." He tilts his head to the side. "A particularly spicy dish for this mysterious friend could draw them out to the back."

The interior of the little pub was not much better than the exterior. It needed a good cleaning first of all. Though it wasn't exactly dirty, it wasn't really clean either. The proprietor notices immediately the egress of more guests, but the place is proverbially packed with people. Close examination of the crowd proves that Zalgiman is currently seated near the back of the room with his green eyed companion. Too far away from the entrance to evesdrop.

GAME: Culix rolls stealth: (10)+15: 25

Culix takes advantage of the egress of several guests to slip inside- she'd thought the place would be quieter, but this works just fine for sneaking, too. She shuffles her way around and between the legs of taller folks as she creeps nearer the table containing their target, hoping to get near enough her sharp (In shape, as well as the more figurative sensitivity) ears might catch some snippets of whatever Zalgiman and his companion might be talking about.

Dirk waits for Culix to set into motion before looking up at Cor'lana. "Right," he says softly. "Ye ready, lassie?" He leans over to a nearby shrub and swipes a bit of night-time dew from its leaves. He rubs the moisture between his fingertips muttering softly. "Open eyes an' open ears." He quickly taps his moistened fingertip to the corners of his eyes and again to his ears, letting Gilead's magic sharpen his senses. That done, he puffs up his burly chest, drawing himself up to his full height and making ready for his grand entrance.

It doesn't please Tel to take backseat, but if he walks in he -knows- the whole scheme will be blown. And so he casually moves around to the side of the ramshackle cottage, inspecting the wall and listening carefully. Once he's found a good spot, he leans against it lightly, looking for all intents like a man waiting for his friends to finish paying the table before heading out.

"Ready," Cor'lana affirms in response to Dirk. Pothy remains put on Telamon's shoulder--the white raven is too distinctive for his own good to accompany her. The shapeshifted sorceress adopts a much different persona than her own, striding in confidently and looking around the place like she's hungry.

Hungry like the wolf, you might say.

And her eyes catch hold of Zalgiman. But for the moment, she doesn't approach him yet. Not immediately. Instead, she takes a seat near him and waits for any waitstaff to approach her.

Aelwyn in the meanwhile, sneaks around the back of the inn, holding up his cloak over himself. The cloak is then quickly folded over and turned into a sort of a waiter's apron; snagging any old rag to cover his more brighter spots.

With a quick survey over the helping staff, he moves to pick up the nearest plate and walks over the inn proprietor. "A pair of helping hands for a good night's rest," He quietly tells the man - before sliding a good gold coin against the back of the man's hand. "A _very_ beneficial pair of helping hands if left to their own devices."

A pair of toothy teeth flash up, as the Dragoon gives a fiery orange gaze.

GAME: Aelwyn rolls intimidate: (8)+8: 16

"So, is it true?" The man identified as Zalgiman leans forward in his chair expectantly while the other green-eyed man blinks blankly at him. "Oh come on. Can you command people to do what you want?" This is uttered in a low hush, barely audible to the ear of even an experienced evesdropper.

"Yes." The man is smiling, has been for as long as you entered visual range of him. It's a peaceful sort of smile, as if he's amused at the world.

"How about a spy? Evesdropping on our conversation?" So casual, even as he nods his head toward Culix!

The green eyed man turns his gaze toward her slowly.

Meanwhile the proprietor nods furiously and makes the gold offered by Aelwyn vanish. "Good enough for me. Just watch that scowl doesn't drive off my customers!"

GAME: Culix rolls will: (20)+1: 21 (CRITICAL SUCCESS)

Dirk's eyes get wide as Zalgiman makes Culix. Well -that- won't do! He shoves open the door and lumbers in after Not-Cor'lana, striding in like he owns the place. "Well, well, well! Look who it is!" he booms. "Zalgiman, me ol' cock! How -are- ye? It's been ages! Ye never call, ye never write! I was startin' tae think maybe ye were avoidin' me!" He puffs up his burly chest. Eyes over here, Evil Death Lackeys. Look at the birdie. Pay no attention to the gobber under your table (or wherever it was Culix managed to secret herself.)

Okay, Culix getting noticed doesn't help matters. Cor'lana, however, knows how to make an entrance. She quietly breathes in, murmurs, "Ok, mom, help me please..."

And she rises from her table and struts on over, taking a drink off someone's table (preferably from someone passed out or simply not paying attention) along the way. The coquette's easy smile returns to her face as she looks at Zalgiman through hooded eyes. "Well, well," Cor'lana says, adopting her mother's slightly deeper and flirtatious tone. "I came in here looking for a drink and I found three good looking glasses at /one/ table. Goodness me."

"Oh no," Pothy groans quietly from outside.

GAME: Ravenstongue rolls Diplomacy+3: (16)+21+3: 40
GAME: Telamon casts Comprehend Languages. Caster Level: 12 DC: 17

Culix clicks her tongue when she's made and the guy stares right at her, makes that grand pronouncement. A beat. And she has an idea. She stands up, giving up on the attempt at stealth, and allows her face to relax and her eyes to glaze over, staring off into the middle distance. Doing her best impression of someone who is under their spell.

Zalgiman turns his eyes toward Ravenstongue's disguised self and his lips part in surprise at the vision of loveliness before him. So utterly is he bespelled by her appearance is he that he is actually delayed in answering Dirk. He puffs himself up a bit and stands, looking down at Dirk in many ways. "Go away. I just want to have a drink with my new friend and this lovely lady here." He sweeps a hand toward Cor'lana. He offers her a broad, lecherous smile and invites her silently to join his table.

The dark-haired and gree-eyed man at the table smiles, a sense of satisfaction about him as he stands up himself and begins to make his way toward Culix. His eyes are... unnaturally green. Like a cat's eyes. And he seems to have found something worthy to focus on.

Once he reaches her, he bends down. A LOT down. The guy is easily six foot and nearly a half foot beyond that. His fingers trace under her chin and he whispers something to her that can only be heard by her.

Culix isn't quite sure if her ploy is working or not, but she swallows down her surprise at a foreign voice in her mind, and goes along with it, heading on over to the table to join them. Her hand absent mindedly fingers one of the pouches on her belt, feeling the familiar shape of her smoke pellets, even as she resists the urge to pop one and make a run for it.

Dirk doesn't skip a beat. He sweeps a burly arm around Cor'lana's waist. "Oh, ye mean -this- lovely lady?" he says. "Ye mean -my- lovely lady? Hah! As if she'd want anything tae do wi' a wee little beardless boyo like -you-." He hawks and spits with a derisive snort. "But here's the deal, laddie. I'm in a generous sort o' mood. I -might- be willin' tae let 'er have a drink wi' you. But first... ye have tae have a drink wi' -me-." He puffs up his burly chest, hamming up the act as best he can. Of course, dwarves are naturally a hammy sort of people, so he doesn't have to try hard. "What say you, boyo? If ye can drink me under this table, then she's all yours." He slaps the palm of his free hand down on the table in a (hopefully successful) attempt to keep the attention on him. "Unless yer -scared-. Yer nae -scared-, are ye, Zalgie?"

Aelwyn rumbles at the innkeeper, "Why would they be scared?" The draconian asks, completely bemused, before he shuts down his shark-like grin. Briefly withdrawing to the back of the inn to smudge some dirt and oil on his scales, he returns; his glaive is snuck on a more convenient hiding spot.

Taking up a rag and seeing most of the party already in the swing of things, the Dragoon looks up with quite a bit of concern over the target table. "Tch." He rumbles in annoyed concern, before he reaches down and pulls up the keg of beer and bangs the side of it loudly. "Shift change! This swill half off!" A wide toothy grin. "Can't leave this sorry lot thirsty, can one?"

GAME: Dirk rolls Bluff: (11)+1: 12

"Aww, Dirk, you're so cute, but don't be so /possessive/," Cor'lana replies, offering another inviting smile at Zalgiman. "I'm not your lady /yet/. Personally, I think we all could have a /very/ fun time together."

Her blue eyes fix directly onto Zalgiman's, her expression coy as she curls a finger underneath those ruby-red lips. "I bet you could outdrink him," she teases. "I'd /love/ to see that." And she delivers it with the barb of a wink that promises so much more.

Pothy is able to relay information to Telamon in his true voice thanks to the aid of the sorcerer's spell. "Telamon, it looks like things are going well," he says. "Culix, Dirk, and Lana are at the table. Uhh... don't kill anyone, please, but it looks like Lana's pulling Zalgiman into her lure."

A beat. "Metaphorically. I should have clarified." Pothy coughs.

Telamon takes a deep breath of the evening air. Cool and refreshing. He opens his eyes, and smiles at Pothy a bit. "That's my wife, ladies and gentlemen," he quips to his audience of one. "Not exactly super keen on this, but... needs must when the hells drive." He cracks his knuckles, looking around from his shadowed spot. "I wonder who Zalgiman's friend is, though. I mean, the location makes sense, Zalgiman's been slinking in the Felwood. But anyone consorting with a cultist of the Nightmare is probably not going to be up to any good either..."

The green-eyed man leads Culix to the table and makes room for her there, watching the rest of the conversation between Cor'lana and Dirk to his companion. For a long moment it seems that the larger man wouldn't take the bait, but then suddenly he nods and grins. "My friend can officiate, and it seems we're just in time to buy that cask!" He waves Aelwyn over and parses out a few coins for the booze before sitting back down and offering a seat between himself and the mysterious green-eyed man. The man for his part never stops smiling his eerie smile, though his eyes weigh Dirk like a pig going to slaughter.

Dirk pays no mind to the spooky green-eyed man. He keeps his attention focused on Zalgiman. As his challenge is accepted, he barks a laugh. "HAH! Oh, this is goin' tae be -fun-!" He looks over to Aelwyn who arrives right on cue, and whistles sharply through his teeth. "Oy! Bring that swill over here, laddie!" he calls. Cor'lana gets a grin. "Ahh, not tae fret, lassie. Once I've humiliated -this- scrawny beanpole, ye won't be able tae resist me mansome charms!" He turns loose of her and steps up to the table. He plumps himself down in the seat, sweeping up a nearby unattended mug and filling it from the cask. "Prepare tae have yer arse handed to ye, boyo!"

GAME: Culix rolls sleight of hand: (3)+11: 14

The rag is slapped over Aelwyn's shoulder as he accepts the coin - maybe he can even turn a profit here tonight - and grabs the keg off the bartop onto his shoulder. A set of drinking mugs is scooped into his fingers. There was tension in the draconian's body - and not all because of the exertion. "Half off, half off! The lot needed thirstier mouths, quicker coin to get into this deal!" He calls out, before stopping by the table.

"And here's to the table," The topless sith-makar says, ember scales covered in grime. Pints are laid down and fast fingers give a brief tap to the table with one of the jugs, before he flips it up and uses it pull off the cork. "First come," A steady stream of ale - or equivalent - flows off the tap, Aelwyn neatly and with ease making a bit of show off filling the pints from the keg on his shoulders, finishing with the one he is holding that he then twirls with a flourish to the center of the table. "Last go. The special tonight is a salty stew and a brilliant headache for the morning." He gives a wide grin before he slams the up onto the table and punches the cork back in.

Cor'lana pulls up a chair to be close to Zalgiman, as there's not one currently available. Her focus is primarily on him, after all. "What can I call you anyway, big boy?" she purrs again. "I'm Dina. Just came to Alexandria a little while ago. You come around here often?"

She's totally lighting a fuse underneath Zalgiman to win... in other words, get as drunk as possible.

"Well, yeah, at the end of the day, she's /your/ wife," Pothy responds to Telamon. "She chose you, and you both have my handiwork on your hands to prove it. Looks like the drinking contest is about to start. Don't get antsy."

Telamon sighs at Pothy. "Can't help it." He flexes his hands. "It's not in my nature to just -let- her go in there with that..." He tamps down his words. "If you've got any advice, I'd love to hear it. I'm trying not to pace or draw too much attention out here." He chews on his lower lip, hunkering down, pulling the hood of his cloak up over his head. "Does this place have a back door? Servants' access, that sort of thing?"

Culix remains silent and staring vacantly at the table, keeping up the ruse. While their target is distracted by the admittedly very distracting Cor'lana, she shuffles subtly closer to him. Her deft fingers reach towards his belt, seeking an unsecured pocket or purse to delve into unnoticed.

Unfortunately, Culix's actions do not go unnoticed. By Zalgiman or by his companion. The two share a look and the green-eyed man reaches out to grasp her by the wrist and pull her up. There's a dangerous look in his eyes, but he's still smiling. "Come little thief, I will show you outside."

Meanwhile Zalgiman affects as if he didn't notice anything unusual, so he lifts his pint and waves the waiter Aelwyn to move along. "I'm Zalgiman little lady. But you'll get a chance to know me soon enough." Waggling eyebrows ensue and he lifts his pint - and downs it.

Aelwyn makes a flourishing bow at Zalgiman, before stepping away without a word. Like any good innkeeper, he moves to intercept the green eyed man. "Let there not be a scene," He hurried whispers to the extremely tall man. "It is bad for business. Let us keep the atmosphere lively." A rumbling laughter and a slap on the man's shoulder.

"Behind the inn there is plenty of room."

Culix gasps as her hand is yoinked abruptly away from its prize and lets out a small grunt of pain when she's lifted by the arm, dangling in the air. She flails, but that just hurts her shoulder more, so her other hand reaches up to grab ahold of the one suspending her, she pulls herself up, mouth opening wide, and clamps her pointy chompers down on the fleshy part of his forearm.

GAME: Culix rolls 1d4+strength: (4)+0: 4

Dirk glances over at Culix as Zalgiman's friend makes ready to depart with them. "Aww... an' there goes our judge. But not tae fret! Once yer passed out in a pool o' yer own piss, we'll know who the worthier man is, won't we?" He hefts his mug and tosses it back, with all the grace -and- aplomb that only a dwarf can manage. He doesn't spill a single drop into his snowy white beard as he drains the contents.

"Zalgiman, hmm?" Cor'lana purrs again, her ruby-red lips parting into another grin as she puts a finger in another flirtatious maneuver to her mouth. "How about I call you Zal? It's a shame about your friend, but at least that makes things more..."

She bats her eyelashes. "Intimate."

If Pothy could roll his eyes at this awful wordplay, he would. Instead, he's outside giving a recently-married man a talk to keep him from tearing inside and ripping Zalgiman about. "Just keep your wits about you and remind yourself it's all for the greater good," he replies to Telamon. "Now stand up straight, it looks like the friend's about to leave with Culix--"

Pothy stops. "Did... Did she just /bite/ him?"

Telamon grits his teeth. "I trust her, Pothy, I just don't like how Lana's in harm's way... and yes, I know, Dirk and Aelwyn and Culix are there too, but still..." He takes another deep breath. "Well, if it gets too ornery she can probably turn into a small animal and slip out."

At the news that Zalgiman's cohort is about to leave with Culix, Tel furrows his brow. "Leave as in drag her off? What on Ea..." and then Pothy mentions Culix just bit the guy. Deadpan, Tel comments, "Hope Culix doesn't catch anything from him."

The tall man stops, shudders and looks at Cluix with bedroom eyes and a broad smile on his face. "Oh, I _like_ you. Come dear, out the back as our fine innkeeper suggested." He begins to cart her that way he's surprisingly strong for such a tall thin guy.

The beer goes down between Zalgaimon and Dirk. One pint, then another. "Call me what you like little lady." He wiggles his eyebrows at her again an pours out another round.

Culix stops at that, teeth still sunk into flesh. A shudder runs down her own spine, of an entirely different nature. She releases the bite, spits, and then starts squirming and kicking her legs trying to break his grip.

Aelwyn freezes when Culix bites down the stranger like that. He becomes even frozen when the man barely reacts at all. At least for a second. Hand comes down and he gives Culix a firm (but not hard) slap and begins to gesture animatedly. "No fighting inside! Anything broken will cost double on the table!" He keeps quickly and angrily chattering, doing his best -angry innkeeper- impression.

A longer look is given to Dirk specificalle, before he whips off with his tail. The 'back' the Dragoon is trying to guide Culix and the man is conveniently by the shade of the barn, visible to Telamon.

GAME: Dirk rolls Fortitude+2: (3)+9+2: 14
GAME: Dirk rolls Fortitude+2: (10)+9+2: 21

The green-eyed man follows Aelwyn out the back door carrying Culix in hand like a kitten. Though by the arm rather than the scruff. He seems in a fine mood now, his steps light and airy. If he hadn't been dragging her along by the arm, he might have vanished into the early morning with his dark clothes. They gave the illusion at times that his head and hands were just floating on the air by themselves. He didn't even seem to notice Telamon, waving off the 'innkeeper'. "You may leave us now."

Zalgiamn is deep into the cups now, but showing few signs of being drunk.

Dirk puts back pint after pint, doing his dwarven ancestors proud. He's only slightly hiccuping and slurring his speech after awhile, and he's still going strong. "C'mon, boyo... *hic-UCK*... yer goin' tae... BRAAAAALPH... yer goin' tae have to do better'n -that-..."

One of Culix's flailing feet strikes out Aelwyn's way after the slap, and her teeth gnash at him, but she does spare the Sith-makar a /look/ that she hopes conveys that she has some sort of plan, even if she's not entirely certain what it is right now.

Cor'lana has to trust that Telamon will have things under control outside. She needs to remain in here with Zalgiman. She's not liking the look of this drinking contest, however. Dirk might actually... lose. On the other hand, that could play to her benefit. It's like playing cards, but continuing to play even with only a high pair in hand.

"You should go harder, big guy," Cor'lana purrs at Zalgiman. "I think you might have him on the ropes, but I want to see you take it like a /real man/." Tugging at the masculinity might help--err, not in that way.

Telamon sighs, and murmurs, "Irhandi paphal kalag," and then fades from sight, his form rippling, dimming, vanishing. He hovers just a few inches over the turf, and zips around behind the inn, just in time to see the man dragging Culix out. Casually, Telamon floats over directly behind the man, and then his voice, icy cold, comes from the thin air.

"I don't know you. So you're in luck. Put the goblin down and start walking away. You really, really don't want to get involved in what's coming for Zalgiman." Tel is on edge, and is really in the mood to take out his irritation on someone.

"The inn thanks for the patronage," Aelwyn says as he tries to spot Telamon. He pulls out his dagger from the satchel under his folded over apron and twirls the blade in the air - just to signal to the other man that he was ready for a scrap. Needlessly slowly, but steadily, he begins to retreat back towards the inn. There were dwarves trying to get drunk, after all. Who knows what damage could happen.

The man with his odd green eyes looks around for who's talking but see's no one. Confused he shakes his head. "She bit me... that deserves a return favor." He doesn't wait or hesitate longer than that, a wicked set of fangs visible in his mouth for a moment before he strikes!

Inside Zalgiman redoubles his efforts to put Dirk under the table. "You're not going to win this one little man. I've beat you before and I can do it again!"

GAME: Culix rolls knowledge/religion: (2)+6: 8
GAME: Culix rolls escape artist: (2)+11: 13

Now that she's outside with the man, gotten them split up, Culix puts her brilliant plan into motion. She wriggles and squirms and- wait are those fangs? She WRIGGLES and SQUIRMS and why is he still holding her this is supposed to work. She tries to kick at his face as he comes in for the bite.

GAME: Dirk rolls Fortitude+2: (10)+9+2: 21

Cor'lana realizes something as she looks between Dirk and Zalgiman. Given Zalgiman's competitive nature...

"C'mon, Zal, I bet you can put away more than that and still win," she urges. There's more of that urging winking in big bad Zalgiman's direction. "I can tell you can handle a lot--which is good, because I'm a lot to handle."

Pothy, meanwhile, is seeing the exact same thing Telamon is seeing. "Oh shit!" he exclaims in his true voice, although it comes out as just surprised raven noises to anyone besides Telamon.

GAME: Aftershock rolls 1d20+25: (9)+25: 34

Telamon sees the fangs come out, and his reaction is completely instantaneous. He doesn't chant, doesn't wave his hands. He just snaps his fingers. The air around the green-eyed man -ripples- in a way that it really shouldn't, like water a stone was dropped into, but it fails to pull the man in. A vile curse in Oruch comes from thin air, as Telamon snarls, "I don't recall asking your opinion on ANYTHING."

Dirk harrumphs. "Aye, we'll just--urp!--we'll just -see- 'bout that, won't we boyo?" he growls. Up goes the next pint, consumed to the depths of the dwarven maw. "I've never... huck!... I've never onesh been beat... by a scrawny beanpole like -you-... an' I'm nae goin' tae shtart now...!"

Aelwyn just drops all pretense straight out when the fangs come out - with his dagger in hand, he rushes forward to try and slam it into the tall-not-man's back. A simple sith-makar with simple means.

GAME: Aelwyn rolls weapon1: (20)+5: 25 (THREAT)
GAME: Aelwyn rolls weapon1: (3)+5: 8
GAME: Aelwyn rolls damage1: aliased to 1d4+2: (3)+2: 5

"A voice from the air, and a knife in the back." The vampire (for that is what he is) smiles so wide that his cheekes are pressing to the edges of his face. "Your struggle whets my appetite little one. Scream for me, and I will let you go long enough to flee. You might escape... Or you can become a vampire. Live forever." His eyes shine. "FEEL forever."

Zalgiman looks at the disguised Cor'lana and grins at her. "How about a kiss then? Surely I've earned that much." He grins at her.

Culix shakes her head, "Gross. Gross gross gross." she complains as she continues trying to escape. The creepy smile. The creepier words. "How bout this you let me go and I don't cut off a bit of you you'll miss forever you weirdo." she's managed to get her feet in on the attempts to escape now, wedging one of them against his side to try and pry her hand free.

GAME: Culix rolls escape artist: (11)+11: 22

Oh. Oh no. A kiss. Cor'lana internally panics. She is a married woman! But the fate of the world is at stake! What would Mother do? What would Mother...

Oh. Ohhh.

Cor'lana leans back in her chair and looks very coy. "Mmmm. I don't kiss on the first date, and we're certainly not on a date," she says. "/Yet/. How about we meet up again, Zal? Let's say... Eliday. I'm a high-class girl, you know." She rattles off the name of a high-end restaurant and gives him a bat of the eyelashes.

But she does stand up and blow him a kiss. "I'm looking forward to it~" she coos, and she makes her exit

GAME: Telamon casts Teleport. Caster Level: 12 DC: 21
GAME: Telamon rolls 1d100: (15): 15

A growl from the air, and a susurrus. "Dawn is coming. Better run for it. But I don't think you need takeout, monster." Culix feels a warm hand on her arm, as does Aelwyn. "Kaskal nu siten ula'ulla," Telamon says in a sonorous voice, and there's another -ripple-. The trio fall down a multicolored tunnel of light, only to 'pop' back out down the road, out of the vampire's clutches.

Aelwyn lets out a snarl and a hiss off his own as he is torn away and dumped by the roadside, but he is quickly back on his feet. "Tchh, most things spit out blood when they get stabbed like that." He turns towards Culix quickly, "Are you fine? Apologies, this one should have acted sooner." He says in tense hurry, glancing over towards the inn constantly.

Dirk was busy throwing back a mug of beer as Cor'lana expertly fended off Zalgiman's advances. And so when he bangs the mug down on the table and releases a rafter-shaking belch, he blinks his eyes open to see that 'his' lovely lady has up and gone. "Whu...?" Blink blink. He looks up, down, and all around. "Where--urrrp!--where'd she get to? Whu' happened?" He's unaware of the ruckus happening out back. He's just... alone. By himself. With Zalgiman, and drunk enough that a fight would probably not be advisable. "Oh, piss up my arse. I -hate- when this happens."

The vampire shakes his head, looking disappointed, but he doesn't seem to notice the group down the road. Instead he heads for the woods behind the establishment and disappears quickly into them. Not long after that Zalgiman comes out of the pub. He _does_ notice the little group, shaking his head and turning to disappear into the woods as if he'd never existed in this location.

The last words that Zalgiman gives Dirk are a nasty threat. One not worth mentioning in polite company.

-End