“Hmmm, I can’t say that I enjoy being pulled from my meal for a rouse,” Aristoblis says, more out of hunger than being upset.  “However, the prospect of free room just might make up for it.”

 

Accepting the keys from the bard, Ari says, “Thank you, most talented performer.  I would be happy to put this room to good use in your stead.”

 

With a nod and a turn the “old elf” goes back to the bar to finish his meal in peace.  On his way he pauses mid stride, his eyes locking with those of the lady elf for a long moment.  “Lady,” he says with a reverent bow, and proceeds back to his bar stool.

These loud noises were making Kramer's hangover worse.
He groaned slightly in pain as he leant into the bar, head in his hands.
His attention was grabbed by the sound of  chairs being moved and steel being drawn.
Slowly lifting his head and facing the direction of the commotion Kramerstared intensly with his deep set bloodshot eyes, his greasy long hairhanging down infront of his face, hiding most of it.
His red eyed stare pierced through his hair like a torch through thefog, fixed on someone advancing to the elf who just helped  him.
"You want to behave" said Kramer to the assailant, clencing his fiststightly, his body sprung, ready to pounce. Inside Kramer was itchingfor a fight, he wanted to show his gratitude to the elf that helped himand he now had his chance.
The assailant advanced, sword gripped ever tighter, Kramer dvanced too.
He picked up a barstool by the leg in his right hand and charged, theman reacted quickly swinging his sword down towards Kramer.
Kramer swung the barstool upwards directly into the blade of the sword,both weapons connected. The sword was stuck fast in the barstool,letting go of it Kramer grabbed the guy round the collar with both hands and pulled him inwards, swinging his head backwards and thenforwards in a single powerful movement Kramer headbutted the assailant,upon contact the stranger was unconcious.
The limp body fell to the floor, the mans nose unreconisable in themess of cartledge and blood that was his face. Kramer pounced on top ofthe man placing hard, yet aimed punches into his unconcious face. Thesound of soft flesh given way to bone hitting bone was sickening,patrons of the bar looked on in horror as this dwarf continued to puncha man who should be long dead by now.

Kramer couldnt help himself, he had gone of into a frenzy, the sight ofa woman in trouble sparked his memory of the loss of his dear wife.
It won't happen again
this his only thought.

Just as Aristoblis resumed eating his food an explosion of commotion erupted in the room.  Snapping his head up, obvious annoyance on his face, he looks in time to witness a dwarf take a human to the ground with a well placed headbutt.

 

A dwarf’s head turely is harder than steel, Aristoblis thinks with a sly grin, a lesson that one won’t soon forget.

 

Aristoblis assumed for a moment that the commotion was over so he went back to his meal.  Out of the corner of his eye he saw the dwarf launch himself onto the unconscious man; that is when he realized that he was as wrong as he could be.

 

Here we go, he groaned to himself, his right hand sliding into one of his pouches and his left hand gripping his staff.

 

Bearing witness to the events in the tavern, Aristoblis watches the two crash out the front door into the street.  He looks back to the elven maiden and can see a genuine look of worry on her face, he eyes rapidly scaning the room in search of something…but what?

 

No time to ask about that right now; let’s go see what’s going on out here.  Aristoblis rises from his stool and silently slips to the front door.  A quick survey of the situation reveals the dwarves and another elf locked in mortal combat with some thugs.

 

Common street trash, he thinks, hardly worth the effort.  Quickly sizing up the opposition, he sees one of the dwarves fell one of the men.  Locking his gaze on the man squaring off against the elf Aristoblis removes a long slender bone wand from his pouch and takes aim.  He whispers a word of magic and five purple bolts of energy fly from the tip of the wand strike the man true.

 

The man stumbles slightly and groans under the impact of the missiles, the smell of searing flesh filling the air.  The man slumps forward and falls to the ground lifeless.  Please with his results, Aristoblis returns the wand to his robes and moves back to his meal.

The other men flanked Whisp.  She whirled between them, attempting to maneuver so that she did not leave her back exposed, her mind spinning with adrenaline.  One of the men swung and caught her shoulder, slicing a ragged line across her back with his dull weapon.  Blood welled and ran down the elven woman’s back.

Keiri looked up from the bloody mess before her on the tavern floor and took in the situation, seeing Ralthoin approaching them with a fierce look.  She focused and began to pray, concentrating her thoughts on the bleeding wound.  

A soft light began to glow but then blinked out abruptly as the tiny priest cried out and bent double, her arms wrapped around her stomach.  Her face crumpled.

***

Ranaewen stood leaning against the back wall of the tavern in a dank little alleyway.  The night was quiet and still around her, except for the faint scrabbling of rats.  A million thoughts raced through her mind as she waited.  Her confrontation with the dwarf disturbed her.  Keiri, Ralthoin, Elisan...people who now aroused a strange feeling of kinship within her.  Anogar.  Even though it had been some days since she had seen the human...an odd lightness shifted in her belly.  She frowned and irritation welled up once again.  Then the tavern door swung open.

The man stepped lightly into the darkness.  A tall, lithe human dressed in leathers stood before her, appraising her with a steady look.  She looked back at him and their gazes locked in a brief contest before he smiled quietly.  “You know how to draw a crowd,” he remarked in a low, rough voice.

She smirked and cocked a hip, her throat arching gracefully in the moonlight.  “What can I say...”  Then her face cleared and she turned to the business of their meeting.  She slipped off a glove to reveal a small purse slung on her wrist.  She upended it into her hand and held the small item up to show him.

He frowned and reached for it, then looked at her sternly as she pulled her hand away.  “Payment first,” she said, her tone measured.

 

Whisp felt the power of a spell course over her body preparing herself to react quickly to what ever ill effect was being sent her way. But instead of searing pain or blinding lights Whisp felt a warm wash over her body and a calm feeling of subtle power flow over her body. A spell aiding her in her battle. She was bewilded, but she could not afford to get distracted during the heat of battle, especially a battle in which the odds were no in her favor. As she steady herself to take on her attackers coming from within the bar, she spotted the loud mouthed dwarf and another of his kind charging towards her. She knew it they were in on the coup. She ready to do battle with the dwarfs as they raced towards her and just as she was readying to strike out the dwarfs each slayed one of her assailants. More aid? Now Whisp was totally confused. Those who she had trusted had turned on her and those she had thought ill of now came to her aid. To make her world totally topsy turvy she expected to see the nymph striking down the ringleaders of this coup its self. Instead she saw the nymph down and some unknown person hovering over her. Well if everything was to ring true this day the nymph needed aid. Shoulder to shoulder with the dwafs she shouted at her new stout brothers in arms and pointed in the direction of the nymph. "She needs you help! Save her! Keep going to the back of the tavern. There you'll find a door to an alley way. We can not be here where the local authority arrive. I'll meet you in the alleyway." The dwarfs seemed to not know whether to trust her or not and who could blame them. But if they were to get out of this alive and not in some dungeon she need them to act and act decisively. So with a forcefulness she did not know she had, she shouted "Go! Save your precious nymph NOW! I can take care of these fiends." though this last statement she was not so sure about.
Not waiting for the dwarfs to act, she knew she had to pull out all the stops if she was going to survive tonight. She grabbed on pouch from beneath her rope and threw it towards the front door and a bundle of caltrips scattered across the floor. That show slow the enforcements in their arrival. Now for the guards left untouched as of yet by the dwarfs, she needed scap goats for the local enforcement. Again her hands deftly went beneath her ropes and produced two green bags which she lobbed either side of her. as the bags hit the floor, they split open and vines sprouted outwards entangling the guards and patrons near by. Screams of panic arose. Chaos was ensuing. A perfect time for one to make ones escape. and so Whisp darted for the back door and what she hoped would be an empty alleyway.