An Overture (Part 3)

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When last we left our brave heroes, they were at the the Pilgrim's inn, near the Eidolon Court. There, they were witnessing people singing, praising the Gods. It's the time of night where this happens. Hymns are being offered up. Mashila has even danced, already, to one of the performs. Tonyon seems a bit abashed, unable to bring himself to pursue his dream of performance just yet in the face of what he we, what he felt, at the Court.

After having listened to it yourself, one can hardly blame him.

Klaus will raise no objection to Tonyon not performing in front of others. He's pretty sure we'd never be able to hold off the entire inn. So he drinks his drink and keeps his comments to himself. The man is, in theory, paying us, and antagonizing him doesn't seem like a good plan.

Skribbles is sitting in the chair, enjoying a drink with her feet up on another chair nearby. She dips her fingers left and right in time with the music, her other hand lifting the ale to her lips. She doesn't sing, and Reos knows nobody wants her too unless you want Otyughs...because Skribbles singing is how you get Otyughs. So she simply sits back, relaxes, and enjoys the evening.

Davienne has been quiet. But then that is her way. The ranger watches the performances, applauds with enthusiasm, and sips her cider. She glances at Tonyon thoughtfully. "Why haven't you performed yet?" She asks finally.

Auranar stays silent, quietly watching the others perform with interest, but without joining in. Her skills lay in other areas and she has no desire to embarrass herself. Instead she takes to watching Tonyon, and finally leans close to him. "You should join in."

"...mmn... I.. I'm not feeling terribly performative right now," says Tonyoin, his expression filled with the kind of doubt every performer has about their craft at some point. Sometimes more often than just 'at some point'. Frequently more than at 'some point'. His eyes flicker down towards the table and he takes a drink of his beer, seeming unsettled. "I don't know."

Meanwhile, the others are starting to pick up on cues, taking their turns. Not all of them are terribly good, but they don't seem to mind.

Klaus shrugs about the fellow not feeling the mood. "There doesn't really seem to be any requirement to actually be much good," he notes helpfully. "If you -did- perform, and it was well-received, that'd be a big boost to your case," he suggests, against his better judgement. "And if not, it might help focus you on finding some other way. Certainly the Court was moving. -I- feel moved, though I sing about as well as a sick cat."

Davienne takes another long sip and continues to look at Tonyon. "Mmmm...okay then," She says with a small smile growing. "Would it be easier if someone else went up there and made a big fool of themself first? Or is it stage fright? I hear underwear helps. Not sure how..." She says ever so helpfully before her shoulder shrug.

Auranar nods to the other's words, agreeing with them silently on the fact that it hardly seems to matter how good someone is. "If you never try, you can never succeed." She points this out quietly, but leaves it at that. If the man doesn't want to try; she won't push him. Not that far in any case.

Skribbles looks at Tonyon and says, "Get up there and sing. You came all the way out here to be inspired and...I dunno...that was pretty inspiring. Just sing what's in your heart." She nods once, "Or I'll go up there and be forced to sing. You don't want that."

Finally, Nasrin lifts a hand. She is staring out at the group almost pensively, a peculiar expression for those deep blue eyes to take, framed by long red tresses. She stares at those gathered. She takes a deep breath and clears her throat briefly as she steps up.

"Deimos.... Has only got one ball. Reos has two,but very small. Gunahkar is most peculiar, but poor Carcoroth has no balls at all!

At this point, Nasrin is picking up steam. She's almost shouting at this point.

Illotha has also got one ball She stole it right out of old Maugrim's hall!

Nasrin is... Going to keep going. Oh dear.

GAME: Nasrin rolls Perform/Sing+2: (11)+3+2: 16

Klaus eyes Nasrin, then eyes her drink, then eyes his own. These are the people that won the war, it's got to be -something-. Maybe not something here, though, he allows. He also backs a little away from the table in case he has to jump up and defend himself in a hurry.

Davienne watches Nasrin get up and start to wail. One brow raises and then she starts to smile lopsidedly. Showing a bit of teeth before she chuckles and shakes her head. "Gilead has balls, two if you recall, but he lost them in the woods long ago!" She can't sing well, but she can contribute!

Skribbles stands up on the table and points at Nasrin, "Reos has two giant balls, giant balls that shame y'all. His hammer is strong, requiring two hands because it's so long." She flexes and shouts, "Reos The Hammer of Virgins!" She cannot sing...cannot sing at all.

Tonyon looks on, horrified. Increasingly horrified.

GAME: Davienne rolls performance: (18)+performance: 18

At his side Auranar looks equally appalled, and perhaps slightly sick. She is /not/ joining in.

Klaus confides in Tonyon, "So look, you can't be worse than -that-. Just give it a shot. With one of the more normal hymns, though, if it's all the same."

...this is, perhaps, not what they had in mind.

The crowd, that is. Indeed, many of them are rather reverently religious and here you are being very... well, irreverent, to say the least.

So many of them are staring.

A few, of course, have burst out laughing. Reactions are always going to vary. Others are stunned into silence.

GAME: Skribbles rolls perform/sing: (6)+0: 6

Encouraging Nasrin was a bad idea. She continues:

Angoron had to replace his balls! Reos made them mechanical! Tarien's had many good men But Kor's balls are the biggest of all!

"But the truth is that Taara, that witch, wants them for her hall!" Davienne finishes with a broad grin up as Nisrin and Skribbles. "And Thul? He wants to eat them, his own most of all!" A pause and she glances around the room. Taking in the looks and she clears her throat and sits back, "And now I shall fall, balls to the wall. Gods have mercy on our gaul." And then she throws a wink at her fellow singers. Her tankard toasts them and she drains it.

Klaus eyes the surlier members of the crowd that are bristling at the irreverent song. So he says quietly to Tonyon, "So, it looks like they want to lynch us. I'm not really up for that, myself, so if you'd come out with, say, a more traditional hymn, it might cool the people down before they rip our eyes out."

Skribbles laughs and raises her mug of ale. "Reos throws his hammer around, while everyone else has no hammer at all! Strong and pounding all night long, that hammer has brought many ladies to crawl!" She laughs and starts to dance, and that voice has /not/ gotten any better.

Auranar lifts a hand to touch her face. To cover it really. To hide from the crowd and shake her head at her companions. Is this what adventurers did?

It's an obvious priest of Kor singing a deeply blasphemous song.

Of /course/ it's going to start a fight. When Kor gets to the bit about 'Angoron' replacing his balls, the oruch in back stands up, smashes a chair on a table, and runs right at her.

"Oh no," says Tonyon.

The elderly gnomish assistant dives under the table.

GAME: Whirlpool rolls 1d20+7: (6)+7: 13

The big oruch, with an Angorite medallion around his neck, leans forward after rushing forward and tries to pick up the 'bard' from her seat. He doesn't quite manage it, though. He's too enraged to think clearly about when and how he's getting her so his hands just sort of slide off her.

GAME: Whirlpool rolls 1d20+5: (9)+5: 14
GAME: Whirlpool rolls 1d20+5: (9)+5: 14
GAME: Whirlpool rolls 1d20+5: (12)+5: 17

The ourch's friends promptly stand up and hurl bowls and crockery directly at you table. They don't HIT anyone, but they did try. They're limbering up to join the fight!

GAME: Nasrin rolls weapon0-1: (5)+6+-1: 10

"I DON'T WANNA DIE," yells Tonyon who dives under the table after his assistant.

"Finally, an actual *fight*!" Nasrin is wrestling with an orc nearly twice her size. He can't really get a grip on the reheaded Korite, but it seems that she, in turn, can't hit him hard enough to cause any injury. This is going to get worse before it gets better. Clearly. Nasrin, at least, seems pretty thrilled about the situation. No weapons are drawn. Unless one counts the shattered chair Nasrin *was* sitting on. So far the shards go untouched.

GAME: Skribbles rolls weapon11: (10)+5: 15
GAME: Davienne rolls ranged-4: (9)+6+-4: 11

Skribbles takes out her hammer and screams, "Lady Skribbles, Goddess of the Otyughs!" She leaps forward and swings her hammer, hitting that air really good and knocking it flat on its back. She nods once and says, "Yeah...taught th...wait.."

"HEY!" Davienne yells and gets to her feet as things and fists start flying. "Have a drink and chill, dude! You're taking life too serious!" She says as she throws the remains of her cider into the orcs face. She still had half a tankard too.

GAME: Auranar rolls strength: (20)+1: 21

Seeing that there are likely more missiles incoming and that the fight is in full swing Auranar decides that taking cover is the bright idea. So she flips the table, surprising herself at how easily the table flips over and onto its side. Once it's been moved she ducks down to join her employer behind it. "You are not going to die, we are here to protect you remember?" She eyes the man critically, but in truth she's not so certain that anyone but her is thinking about protecting the poor man right now.

GAME: Klaus rolls cmb+2: (18)+6+2: 26

The various denizens of the bar are rising up. Some are shouting to try to stop the fighting, others are shouting to encourage it, and others still are taking advantage of the ruckus to get the heck out of here without paying their bill.

Klaus will step into the altercation, sighing heavily. It's just another us against the world barfight, and he puts his two coppers into the pot as well to see what he wins. Stepping up next to Nasrin, sort of like a very small protective cordon around the table, and with all the byplay and fighting going on, it's pretty easy to stick his leg out, and BOOM, the oruch stumbles back over it. He says, "Hey, hey, you've had too much to drink. Why don't we just sit back down and drink some more?"

GAME: Whirlpool rolls 1d20+9: (16)+9: 25
GAME: Whirlpool rolls 1d20+5: (14)+5: 19
GAME: Whirlpool rolls 1d20+5: (1)+5: 6 (EPIC FAIL)
GAME: Whirlpool rolls 1d20+5: (15)+5: 20
GAME: Whirlpool rolls 1d20+5: (16)+5: 21
GAME: Whirlpool rolls 1d3: (3): 3
GAME: Whirlpool rolls 1d3: (1): 1
GAME: Whirlpool rolls 1d3: (2): 2

Now, Nasrin is hauled up out of her seat by her head. The guy is holding her with his hands on either side of jer jaw at this point after rising from his tripped position. The look at Klaus just says 'YOU'RE NEXT'.

In the meant ime, his friends, having seen Klaus action, rush into his defense, leaping on and punching and kicking him, shouting, "ANGORON! ANGORON!"

GAME: Nasrin rolls weapon0-1: (19)+6+-1: 24
GAME: Nasrin rolls 1d3+strength+2: (1)+3+2: 6

"Yes, but who's going ot protect me from HER?" asks Tonyon, pointing at Nasrin. She did just start a fight, after all, with her singing.

He's alarmed by this... and slightly inspired.

GAME: Skribbles rolls 1d20+1: (10)+1: 11

Skribbles picks up her hammer and looks at the otyugh that has Nasrin. Alright, now it's become serious. She shakes her head a bit and charges forward with her hammer, swinging and hitting just as Nasrin's punch lands on his own.

GAME: Skribbles rolls 1d8: (6): 6
GAME: Davienne rolls cmb: (6)+4: 10

"Ugh," Davienne grumbles with an eyeroll when things do not calm down. And Nasrin gets picked up. So she tries to shoulder-check the orc. But it's like he's a wall. Made of meat. And anger.

"Save you from her? You should try to be more like her! The way she fearlessly faced the crowd! If she can rile the crowd with a terrible song, imagine what a good one could do. Perhaps you could soothe this group with a few words of praise to Angoron... or you can sit hiding behind this table all night long letting your inspiration slip away from you." Auranar meets Tonyon's gaze seriously. "Your choice."

GAME: Auranar rolls diplomacy: (18)+3: 21
GAME: Klaus rolls 1d20+6: (10)+6: 16
GAME: Klaus rolls 1d3+4: (3)+4: 7

Klaus hrms as he makes such good friends with the oruch and takes a punch from his friends, but if they're going to shout Angoron like this is a holy war, he'll shout out, "Kor! Kor!" If there's any Korites in the bar besides him, maybe they'll rally. Or at least, y'know, keep the others occupied so it's not too much of a beatdown. But the fellow that punched him, he's got a special place for that fellow. It's right in the jaw. He's Dranei, and he's got a punch like a hammer as he takes a swing at the fellow and really makes him feel it. -That-, as they say, is gonna leave a mark.

"Stop this! Stop it!" yells the bartender, who's unheard as more fights start to break out. People leaving, say, their poker game and trying to collect a little too much of the winnings.

That's how this ALWAYS goes.

GAME: Whirlpool rolls 1d20+8: (5)+8: 13
GAME: Whirlpool rolls 1d20+9: (13)+9: 22
GAME: Whirlpool rolls 1d3+4: (1)+4: 5

"...hrgh..."

All that hurt. The warhammer hurt. The punching hurt. The kicking hurt!

So he lifts Nasrin up and brings her down on top of Davienne, since she's near, before whirling around to face Skribbles.

...whom he boots.

Hard. Skribbles hits a table. Hard. CRASH.

GAME: Whirlpool rolls 1d20+5: (3)+5: 8
GAME: Whirlpool rolls 1d20+5: (3)+5: 8
GAME: Whirlpool rolls 1d20+5: (7)+5: 12
GAME: Whirlpool rolls 1d20+5: (20)+5: 25
GAME: Whirlpool rolls 1d20+5: (2)+5: 7
GAME: Whirlpool rolls 1d3: (1): 1

Most of the backup now has its attention on Klaus, punting and kicking. His armor is pretty protective, but well, he's gotten a lot of attention.

"...you know what, you're right? I SHOULD! NO FEAR!"

Tonyon rises to his feet! He charges the oruch! He leaps at him! He slaps against his back! And kinda sticks there. Ineffectively.

No one ever said he knew how to fight.

GAME: Nasrin casts Bless. Caster Level: 5 DC: 14
GAME: Davienne rolls melee: (7)+4: 11
GAME: Davienne rolls melee+1: (7)+4+1: 12
GAME: Davienne rolls 1d3+1: (2)+1: 3

Davienne is done with this orc. After Nasrin gets up she rolls to her own feet. Glaring up into his face she just punches him in the dick. He's big. She's short. It works out.

GAME: Auranar casts Mage Armor. Caster Level: 2 DC: 14

Nasrin rolls around on thefloor a bit, having tumbled into Davienne. She scrabbles asbout on the floor a bit, squeezing the blonde half elf's arm and then the foot of an orc as she does.

"Your enthusiasm does your- credit," the redhead manages as she clambers awkwardly to her feet through the chaos. "He bestows you the gift of- wait, no... Not a fork. Bowl? No... AHA!" Nasrin scoops up a large round boiled potato.

"Kor's ball will bless you in combat. Get them, sister Davienne. FIGHT!" Nasrin shoves the potato at Davienne as she begins to chant.

"FIGHT! FIGHT! FIGHT... WHOO!" A cheer erupts as Davienne plants her fist between the legs of the enormous orc.

Popping up from behind the table Auranar reaches out to touch her employer on the back. A few words of magic and a murmured 'this is not what I meant' is all that she adds to the conversation, but at least now it should be harder to hurt him.

GAME: Klaus rolls 1d20+7: (19)+7: 26
GAME: Klaus rolls 1d3+4: (3)+4: 7

Klaus delivers another savage punch to the one fellow as his armor mostly sheds blows. He takes one across the jaw, but that's how barfights go. The fellow he punched crumples, Klaus's knuckle sandwich being a bit too much for him to digest. He looks around and growls, "Okay, who's next?"

-TBC