View source for The No Good Oxleys Horrible Secret Anniversary Party for Sandy and Myrana

A05: Ox-Strength Tavern 

The Ox-Strength Ale Tavern is known for being one of the most dangerous dives in the city.  Frequented by the worst sailors, mercenaries, thugs and looters, the place is hardly the prettiest nor the tidiest of taverns, though--of late, that has been changing. Locals claim the once foul-tasting food "No longer burns the stomach--as much, anyways." Plates show signs of repair instead of cracks, though the still infamous odor of old beer and stale sweat insists on hanging about the place, and the smell of brine is near-constant.

Somehow, the party has been kept hidden from Sandy and Myrana, who are not here yet. Rather, the terrible Oxley family has been said to be arranging a secret party to celebrate their boss' nuptuals on their anniversary! They're actually a couple weeks later, but no one ever gave them points for being right on the details. 
 
At any rate, the Ox-Strength has been open for a while, and people are being invited to shout 'SURPRISE' at the pair of them when they arrive. People have been receiving invitations on parchment or have otherwise been told that this is happening. 
 
There is even cake.

The Oxleys are present, as well, ever lead by their ringleader: Finneous Oxley. Well known as the 'worst people in Alexandria' for their true horribleness, some of the half dozen or so of them are /already drunk/. 
 
They may or may not have gotten into Myrana's good alcohol with this as an excuse. They're certainly handing out some of it.

Yelrona arrives, a little late perhaps but making up in enthusiasm what she lacks in punctuality.

There are no trumpets, tympani, nor fluglehorns, but there is a sudden fanfare! *clank* *bonk* *howl* *howl* *clank* *bonk* *HOWWWWWLLL!*
Yes, the von Ironbloods have arrived!

The Rhartourage enters on their decorate carriage that barely fits through the door... and looks alot like Gurr! Just with braids in his furr. With ribbons in the braids!
Rhar is dressed in her finest furs (which are conveniently her only furs!). Adamant stands up behind her, holding her hair for support, while his sister Silver rides in Rhar's lap. Little Mithril Rose, the youngest (by 15 minutes) is driving, sitting on Gurr's head and steering with a firm pup-grasp of each ear.

Mikilos grins, and double checks his pockets are mostly secure. Many things little kids should not be getting into. Or big kids, really. Reassured, the elf raises a hand in greeting. "Lady von Steel, greetings! How are you an the children?"

Sith-makar possess castes. They provide a sense of place, a security in a world that moves often, too fast for them. Today, Svarshan wears the marks of the warrior-caste, but overlaid with the marks of a brightscale. There's a shaman's paint, but not the full paint. His are borne in brands and scars, now highlighted with pigment and blood. He rests near the fire, near warmth. A pot rests beside him.

"Shh! They're coming!" The Oxleys are hushing everyone, but several of them are already a little tipsy and laughing. 
 
You can hear, all of you, Sandy at the door. "It's YOUR fault, Myrana. Suck it up and stop whining at me about it!" 
 
Ah, such a happy couple.

Yelrona looks around the bar, her eyes darting around to find good hiding places. This is only partly a function of the hosts' instruction to prepare to hide to surprise Sandy... truthfully, she suspects the sorceress is perfectly capable of spotting them wherever they choose to hide... and more a general habit she adopted years ago, of always knowing at least two exits and a good place to hide wherever she goes. Having found a good spot, she's about to greet some of the familiar faces she sees when the Oxley's announce the guests of honor, and she disappears behind a potted plant.

Stirling for his part will help himself to the alchahol, especially if the good stuff is available. Even after being told that the couple are coming. He is one of the few who can match the oxley's for social grace, or lack thereof.

Cesran has heard about this party and he is in the back with his staff incase he needs to make a quick exit. He waits until Sandy and Myrana come in. He has a mug of ale in his hand although he hasn't drank any of it yet.

Sorscha is waiting quietly. She shakes her head at the sound of Sandy.

Svarshan gets up slowly, a light twinkling in coal-black eyes. His hand dips into the pot, drawing out ash. It smells of beer, and smoke. He rubs this between his fingers, then looks over at the door.

Ranik was about to take a mug of punch, but stopped as the Oxleys made their announcement.
 
As if on cue, Aldean flips a floppy blue velvet hat on his head that had previously been resting on the toe of one boot. Instantly, his appearance changes -- into the typical sort of denizen one might normally expect to find here, a black-haired sailor sort with a scarred face and clothes that have seen better days. He lifts the pipes to his lips ... and it's suddenly very much the usual fare for this dive, meaning oh-so-deliberately slightly out of tune. 

Dressed in a bustled dress of bottle-green silk trimmed in black with bright copper buttons and with her dark hair in two thick plaits down her back, Myrana is the one through the door first, pushing it open with her shoulder. There's a thick odor of electricity hovering in the charged air around her, which is usually a sign that she's about to lose her temper. "If that busybody old fart can't handle being shown-up he shouldn't've opened his mouth about sorcerers in the first place! What's a wizard know about it anyway, I only TOLD him he was COMPLETELY WRONG, its not like he had to get so upset! It's not like I burned his house down it was JUST THE PORTICO!"

Sandy is following her in, of course, more than a little annoyed. "And what happened, Myrana? HMM? WHAT. HAPPENED?" 
 
She stops dead. So many people here. 
 
Finneous Oxley beams a smile in the direction of Myrana and yells, "SUR-PRIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIISE!" 
 
Sandy responds with a: "Oh fuck."

The pups hear shushing noises. This means that ... the party is starting and it's time to be loud! Or they just feel like howling now that is more quiet. That means they can be heard better!

Adamant starts, Silver joins, and Mithril Rose trails in. They must practice alot: they harmonize well!

Then Rhar joins in the howling, while Gurr's ears twitch. He's the only one not howling, but he's trying very veyr hard...

Ranik, having jumped the gun once, much to his chagrin, he lags a second behind the cue, but joins his SURPRISE! to that of the others.

Svarshan looks over and winks? at Myrana. Perhaps. Then, reaches into the pot, and begins spreading the ash around the perimeter of the room. The movements are slow, deliberate. Solemn and warm. Far away or nearby, there's the heavy beat of a dragon's wings.

Mikilos tsks mildly. "Of course, only -now- does it occur to me to turn everyone invisible... ah well." he mutters mostly to himself. Blinking at the shouting, he glances up, turning back towards the door. He grings, raising a hand in greeting and joining the general 'Surprise!' but waits for the initial roar to die back before calling out. "Myrana! What was that about wizards?"

Cesran yells out, "Surprise!" He will lift his staff to cast a few harmless fireworks in the tavern. He'll start to clap and smiles broadly. "Congratulations."

Sora grins and shouted with the others and still is just sort of standing in the back at the moment just watching, at least she now knows who they were suprising.

It's at that same moment that a thunderous crash is heard on the second story loft of the Ox-Strength, as Jareth comes swinging through the window on a rope. Like a gleaming, silvery meteor, he lays waste to the second floor tavern hall, sending tables and chairs, as well as their occupants flying.

Rolling to his feet, he clotheslines one rough-looking fellow to the floor before using him as a surfboard to ride down the stairs, knocking more patrons off the stairwell into tables and chairs below.

As he reaches the bottom, booted foot still on the back of the man's head, he draws his sword and yells out, "I got your ransom note, villains! Hand her over now, and you may live to see the sun rise tomorrow, Daeus willing!"

Yelrona hops lightly out from behind the fern, juggling four brightly colored balls in a way she hopes is adequately festive. "SURPRISE!" she shouts along with the others, then notices the decidedly UNfestive mood the principals are in, and begins to worry. Something about setting buildings on fire. This can't be good. And the meatball-flinging paladin from last night is doing something with ash, which probably isn't good either. When the pyrotechnic display fires off she jumps back against a wall, startled, then laughs as she realizes they're just entertainment by the red-robed mage. She's starting to relax again when the swashbuckler crashes the party... literally... and she decides perhaps it's best to duck back behind the potted plant.

Mikilos blinks at Jareth. Sadly, this sort of behavior is pretty on par for the Ox, but there's usually more swear words.

Sorscha walks on over to Yelrona and nudges her. "From the rumors I've heard, Sandy's almost never happy. So.....I wouldn't worry about it. Keep having fun."

Myrana rocks back onto her heels and scrambles a step backwards to duck behind Sandy like there was a bomb about to go off, whatever arguement she was about to shoot back at her wife totally wiped out by the loud and startling shouts! "Aahh! Oh jeez! Wh- what?! What?? Wizards?! What!!?!"

The entire crowd dies down as JAreth makes his.... arrival. 
 
"Surprise... party? You got the invitation, right? The cake is in the oven! I'll... I'll...go get it." 
 
Sandy just sort of stares and says, "Oh no," and then she tries to duck behind Myrana instead. THIS IS HER FAULT. THESE ARE HER PEOPLE.

Myrana says, "ALTHEA'S TEETH JARETH THAT WAS MY FUCKING WINDOW!"

Yelrona wonders what she uses the other windows for, but says nothing.

Mikilos says, "Myrana, calm. Windows are easy to fix. People are hard to fix. Deep breath."

Stirling looks up from having just filled his mug with beer. "Uh.. suprise?" he says quite onfused as to what exactly is going on.

Jareth is still standing there, sword drawn and pointed in front of him as he scans the room and sees familiar faces.

So many familiar faces. Mikilos. Kravar. Aldean. Cesran. Rhar. Svarshan. Sandy. And Myrana.

They couldn't have all been abducted, too, right? No.

Clearing his throat, Jareth steps off the man he rode down the stairwell, helping to his feet and brushing off broken glass and shards of wood from his front as he sheepishly apologizes, "So very sorry. Seems there was a terrible misunderstanding..."

The brightscale looks up at the arrival, even as he finishes spreading the ash and--laying down the blessings. Small, yet brilliant runes flicker on the soiled floors before fading away. This done, he shakes out his claws, then sets the pot down. 

This done, he thrusts his hand upwards! The runes which had flickered earlier burst to life, bathing the Ox in blessed light, in the color of the Dragon's platinum colors. He shouts, "BLESS THISS HOUSE! Plasse it under the wingss of the Dragon of the Hearth! Under the Dragon of Jusstice, our Great Father! Guard it, and may thiss couple be blessed and BEAR MANY CHILDREN!"

Then, flings the rest of the ash towards Myrana and Sandy. "BLESSINGS ON THIS MARRIAGE!" Again, the flap of wings. ...and the ash around them.

...well, it's a divine blessing, right? This that Sandy and Myrana glow with a heavenly, divine light.

"This is hell," says Sandy. 
 
"I have died and been taken to hell." She has her face covered by her hands. She is so happy. Joyous. Really. 
 
That's when Finneous makes his way out with cake. "Hey, guys! We baked a cake!" 
 
He pretends that it wasn't very obviously made by the bakery down the street. It's huge, though. All white forsting and sweet.

Cakes in ovens?! Rhar know these words. Her face lights up, where it can be seen through her fur. She nudges Mithril Rose, who pulls Gurr's ears forward and drives the family carriage to the happy couple. "Cake oven? When cubs come?" She looks expecentant to the... expectants.
 
The would-be piper in the corner trails off entirely into a discordant warble as Jareth makes his grand entrance, and a baritone chuckle at odds with the woebegone appearance emerges from Aldean's lips. He tears off the hat and stuffs it into the sack at his feet unceremoniously, pipes still in one hand. "Damn, Jareth. I ain't know you could do that," he laughs, shaking his head as he watches Svarshan's theatrics. 

Sheathing his sword, Jareth stills keeps apologizing to his poor victim before ending up kicked in the shin with a peg-leg. A solemn nod is all that is offered in response, as he clearly had it coming.

Stepping forward, he produces and arrow with a sheaf of parchment rolled around it, "This was fired into a window at the temple of Daeus, addressed to me. It says: We have her at the Ox. Oven ready."

He begins to absent-mindedly unroll and roll the parchment, "I thought she'd been abducted. Again. Maybe the ape's owner had come back, or something."

Cesran smiles as he sees the cake, "What a wonderful cake, Sandy and Myrana should have the first piece and I believe it's tradition that they have to smash the cake in each other's faces."

Mikilos shrugs mildly. "Honest mistake. Such thigns have been known to happen." PErking slightly, he enthuastically nods in agreement to Cesran.

Ranik shakes his head with an amused smirk, then returning his attention to the punch...
GAME: Ranik casts Detect Poison. Caster Level: 4 DC: 15

Myrana coughs, clears her throat! And smoothes down her dress, ahem! HEM! "Th- thank you all for... uh..." She shoots an apologetic look at Jareth. "For uh, for-pfffeh!" And Svarshan is throwing ashes on them! She sputters, and manages not to cough! Coughing out holy dirt is probably the rudest possible thing, so she thanks Svarshan in a sort of flabberghasted way, and then pats Jareth on the shoulder. This was, after all, not a totally wild conclusion on his part. "If I had been being stuffed into an oven, that would have been very heroic. Oh god." A cake is being brought out. She glares at Cesran. "That is a stupid way to eat cake!"

Myrana says, "What... what a nice cake you made, Finneous."

Svarshan sets the ash-pot near the fireplace, where it will not get as easily knocked over. Then he straightens, watching the goings-on, tail flicking contentedly at its end-tip. Flick-flick. He glances over towards Jareth, then raises a claw. A smile comes with it--a partial smile, one suited to the reptilian features and scale, and a deep flicker of warmth in coal-dark eyes.

Around, the blessed runes continue to glow. A priest, or one versed in faith would recognize them easily--runes of protection, blessing. And of course, hearth and fertility. Oh. ...oh god.

"...well, thank you, Jareth," says Sandy for a moment. She's actually thankful that he's taken all the attention off her and Myrana for a moment. This can only be a good thing. She looks very relieved and then there is dirt throw on her and she is definitely in hell, espeically after Rhar misinterprets thigns. "No, no one has any buns in any oens! Or cakes! Or cubs! None yet! HAHAHAHA." Nervous laughter. Terror. TERROR.

"Ser Darshan.. I wonder sometimes if you think you actions through in their entirety," Serene comments from behind him. Her expression looks less than impressed. WHich is to say, it's exactly the same as it usually is. "Would you truly wish a child on either of them?" A pause. "Or them on a child?" Another pause. "Or want to be around them if either was with child?" So many horrors following that line of thinking.

"No that's a cake," Myrana intones, missing the baby connotation completely.

Mikilos smiles. "I think Myrana would be a wonderful parent. She's done so well dealing with the immature." He smiles brightly to the Oxleys.

Cesran smiles, "Tradition can be awfully stupid sometimes, but tradition is important. It gives you a connection to the past." He takes a drink of his ale as he teases.

Yelrona comes out from behind the potted plant a second time as things start to calm down, and manages to stand her ground when the Sith's blessing creates another wave of chaos. She smiles appreciatively at Sorscha's reassuring comments and adds "Oh, I don't know. She seems nice enough. She rescued me from a street gang the other day, actually... I'll admit, she was a little terrifying when she disintegrated the goblin, but, well, he wasn't really disintegrated and came back none the worse for wear, so that's all right, I suppose." She steps away from her Defensive Plant and mingles with the crowd, just in time to hear the fertility prayer, which leaves her wondering how that would even work before deciding she does not really want to know.

Sora moves away a little from where she was standing to move out more amongst the others, still to try and mingle a little.

Svarshan watches the proceedings, content. It radiates off him, auras of peace and hail fellowship. Then looks up to Serene. "Perhapss it might. Ssettle her," he opines, though which 'her' given their nicknames of Trouble and Terror, is anyone's guess.

Still, he pulls a packet from a well, packet. It's sedately colored, as such things must be, with marks of blessings and well-wishing upon it. "Did you bring. Giftss? Or would you like to pressent. Mine together?"

Rhar deflates some. "Need cubs! Many!" Aww. Poor Mithril Rose sits up from her sniffing at Sandy to look... heartbroken. "No... cub.. pway?" Eyes. Big. Sad. Jiggly eyes.

That are interrupted when Gurr snorts and lowers his head. He dips it in a bow. Because HE has manners. When he lifts his head again, it stops at Sandyrana level to nudge Myrans's forearm with his nose. Insitently, like one desiring afffection.

But Gurr is too well-mannered and high bred for that. No! He knows his eitquette and brought gifts!

With only a moderate amount of spit and polish, he deposits a pair of cold-forged iron rings into Myrana's hands.

Idly whistling a tune to himself, Aldean leans back on his stool against the wall, grinning at the other two with him, and leans back against the wall. If his fingers are moving in a pattern, he's doing his best to conceal it. 

Serene favours Svarshan with a look that says 'of course I brought a gift' before reaching behind her cloak to pull a felt bag from her belt. "I will present mine with yours, if that is acceptable, Ser Darshan."

Myrana's hand goes out unthinkingly to administer the requested skritches to Gurr, only to have a pair of rings blehpd into it a moment later. "Oh, thank you," she says, surprised, and turns them over with her fingers where Sandy can see. "I'm not letting anybody smash cake in my face and I don't care what you say, mister Cesran," she says, rather sternly. And gives Svarshan what can only be called a strained look, as if his blissful, contented assurance that little chicken eggs are going to march out of her is disconcerting, but not worth crushing his dreams. It is very hard to be good.

"Not, er, yet," says Sandy to Rhar. That devestated look is enough to make anyone hesitate and fudge their answers for the sake of sparing their feelings. Then there's the rings. She eyes the rings in Myrana's hands and then adds, "Uh.. thanks," and then she turns back towards Jareth and points a finger at him, "...hey, uh... you know anything about FIXING WINDOWS?" She pauses, then turns back towards Svarshan and Serene. Uh oh. Then Yelrona. "Oh hey, it's you."

Svarshan grins outright at Serene. Outright. A warm spark shows in the coal-dark eyes, though, and then he steps forward. He does it in such a way as to make room for the other paladin in the crowd--because it IS a crowd. 

"Ssandy. Myrana. Peasse to your nessts," he says then. "You will resseive many gifts tonight." Long pause. Difficult pause. "But. I hope you will assept thiss small token, from my cihuaa and. Mysself," he says, with solemnity. Then offers them the solemnly wrapped package.

Yelrona nods. "Last time I checked," she replies to Sandy. "This is quite a gathering! You two must be very popular. I, um... I didn't bring you anything," she admits, embarrassed.

Mikilos smiles. "I didn't bring a gift, someone thought the best place to put my invitation was on the cross guard of the sword." The giant sword, some 15 feet up above his shop. "But I'm prepared to clean up after the party and repair most of the damage." Likely the beeter gift than anything he'd have thought of, anyway."

Serene follows the sith paladin, stepping into place beside him. Despite the crowd, this isn't as difficult as it seems. She waits for them to accept his gift, then offers her own.

"...I had no idea either. I think most people just came for the free, expensive booze." Sandy points this out to Yelrona. Points out that Finneous is dipping into, and handing out, an expensive, greenish colored liquor from Myrana's private stash. She grabs a drink for herself, then hands a drink to Jareth. He needs one. Then one to Aldean. Then one for herslf and for Myrana right from the bottle. 
 
Then she's being given a fift by Svarshan and she just stares. Stares down into the package. Horror creeps into her features.

Inside the wrappings are a twin set of pajamas. At first, the designs appear bright circles, but a closer look shows them to be...oblong. They're...they're eggs. Eggs marked with Althea's symbols. Cheerful eggs, bright eggs, eggs of all interesting, inspiring colors. The fabric itself is soft, and well-made. The cut favors generous, motherly hips.

Cesran smiles, "All right no cake smashing. Although I'd be really funny if you did it to Sandy." He says as he continues to drink and he smiles at the pajama presents, "Very nice."

Myrana opens her mouth. "Th... Oh! Pajamas!" She looks inordinately pleased. Then she sees that they are covered with eggs. She pauses. And surrepticiously checks the seams for sneaky fertility spells stitched on the inside, suspicious.

Mikilos keeps a straight face and smiles to Svar. Barely.

"May they bring you. Good thoughtss and. Insspired resst." 

Svarshan is SO SUBTLE. The sith-makar beams with contented happiness. He then steps back to make room for others. Along the way he claims a tumbler, and salutes the bard and mage.

"Thank you miss Serene," says Myra, noticing that the tall paladin is offering them another gift and pretending immediately to not have been inspecting the pajamas for suspicious ENHANCEMENTS. She opens it up.

"Well, then I suppose your booze is popular," Yelrona replies agreeably, then contemplates Sandy's reaction to the contents of the bag. She doesn't really want to contemplate what would so frighten the sorceress, but apparently it's egg-themed pajamas. Which... well, all right. She's seen worse gifts. "If you aren't careful, Svarshan may just start a food fight with the cake," she replies to Cesran with a wink to Svarshan.

Sorscha chuckles as she watches the mayhem, but she does go over and get herself a bottle of liquor.
 
Having chosen to sit largely in the back in the way of a hired musician, Aldean looks up, then chuckles. "Why, ye be most kind, lass." He takes the booze easily enough, downing a good swig of it before sitting back upright. He does seem more reserved tonight than is his usual wont.

"You should try the black gin," says Myrana to Yelrona, flattered. She is very very easily flattered. It is pretty obvious. "Since Finneous seems to have gotten it out of its hiding place in the cieling beams of my apartment upstairs."

Serene's gift is revealed to be a box. And inside that box is a book. The Elunite paladin frowns slightly, the frown turning into a scowl as she begins to survey the crowd surrounding them.

"Only when...pride," the reptile says in low tones towards Yelrona. He makes a motion with his claws, a flick here-there. "Young. Warriorss..." Svarshan leaves it at that, his words poor and more halting than even a language barrier would suggest. Content, he looks up towards the proceedings and then--Serene's scowl. Subtly, tension flickers here, there, along muscle and sinew.

Mikilos blinks at Myrana. "I thought your hiding place was... oh." Right, that's the -distraction- hiding place... not the REAL hiding place.

Myrana pauses. And because Serene is not protected by the Precious Cinnamon Roll aura currently sparkling around Svarshan, she gets a wry look from under Myra's bangs. Baby name books. I TRUSTED YOU that look says! OH WOUNDED HEART!

Sandy just looks at Serene. That look says 'You will pay for this, Paladin. OH YOU WILL PAY'.

"Black... gin." Yelrona echoes, skeptically. "Um. Thanks! I'll be sure to do that."

"That is not right," Serene declares, looking distinctly displeased. "It was supposed to be a silver scrying bowl." Her hand drops down to the hilt of her sword... talk about over reacting! "I will find whoever is responsible."

And then...Svarshan looks back, content again. "Bookss?" he asks, with interest, and wanders over that way. A hand goes to Serene's shoulder, briefly. "Thiss iss perhaps not. Bad." He looks to see what the book IS.

Myrana blinks, and straightens. "Oh! Oh hahaha that makes a lot more sense!" She totally buys it! "Its okay! I love books. Wait, what?" She catches what Mikilos said and gives him a suspicious look. "Hey how do you know about that!?"

Sorscha walks over to Svarshan and tilts her head. 'Sandy doesn't trust anyone....does she?"

Mikilos peers. Boooooks... he's not drooling. Not. ...boooooooks!

Mikilos says, "...wizardly intuition."

Myrana hrrrms, making a suspicious face. But, she is pretty gullible. Which is good for Sandy.

"...I heard an angel of the Hearth. Plassed a blessing in Lady Ssandiel's sshop. Perhaps. Thiss is DIVINE INTERVENTION," the brightscale intones. He says this with utter solemnity and intonation. Then, looks towards Sorscha. "I think it iss. What getss her up in. The morning," he says solemnly, though there's a fondness to the words as well.

Cesran smiles, "Well a book is good depending on what kind of book it is." He says as he leans in to see what kind it is."

Myrana suddenly gets a little leery of showing the book to the two inquisitive wizards and tries to hide it behind her bustle. "Nothing!" BABY NAMES!!

"Not bad? Someone used me as a conduit for their... fun on Sandy and Myrana." Oh yes, there will be a reckoning if Serene has anything to say about it. However, Svarshan's intent is not lost on Serene and she visibly reins in her temper as she turns back to Myrana and Sandy. "Forgive this... mistake. Please. Do not let it tarish your evening of revelry." She tilts her head, then, and steps back to allow other potential gift givers some room.

"Well, you came," says Sandy to Aldea, "and played music at a party for Myrana and I. Least I cna do," says Sandy to Aldean. THen to Serene, she looks at hr and just EYES her a moment. "Don't wory, Serene." She pinches the bridge of her nose, then eyes Cesran and Myrana for a moment. She leaves Myrana to fend for herself for a moment.

The Oxleys, mostly, are half-drunk. And busy trying to give people cake. But, really, drunk.

Cesran hmms a little bit, "Baby name...that's useful, does it have any true names in there?" He asks, "What kind of baby names?" He looks at the book, "I hope it's not ourch baby names."

GAME: Yelrona rolls sleight of hand: (20)+10: 30
Yelrona can't resist the temptation, and attempts to snatch the book subtly from Myrana's bustle. Surprisingly, she succeds admirably!

Myrana doesn't even notice Yelrona snatching it out of her hands till the book is a good five seconds in Rona's possession.
 
"Appreciated, lass. Wish ye an' yer lady all the best, aye?" Aldean adds an outrageous wink to that statement, then gets up and turns away with booze in hand. He seems to have turned his attention to working the room, pausing in particular to chat up a gaggle of young ladies who are definitely something west of sober. 

It takes Rona a few seconds to identify what the text _is_, having expected some kind of... well, frankly, she isn't sure what she was expecting. Then she gets it and a lot of the last half-hour makes more sense. "Oh! Are you two expecting a BABY? That's wonderful!"

Svarshan stands there, content for all the world. He hums quietly to himself, before looking towards Serene. A head-tilt. "You sshould ssee the shrine," he suggests to her. Then perhaps surprisingly, reaches out, and clasps Serene in a brief, but meant hug about the shoulders. A bro-hug. You know, the type warriors do. Except there is usually grunting. "We will go hunting. Ssoon. ...did I sshow you the. New blade?"

"I need more booze," says Sandy. She hands some more to Jareth. Then shoves a glass at Rhar. Because why not. And then downs one herself .Because she SO NEEDS IT. SO badly.

Yelrona returns the book to Myrana. "I'm very happy for you both."

Myrana looks mortified. And accepts the book back, turning red.

Myrana says, "W-we're uh, we're not-- that is--!!"

Svarshan looks over, hopeful.

There are hopeful stars in his eyes. Universes.

Cesran smiles, "That's how it happens, with more booze." He chuckles as he sips his ale.

Serene nods stiffly to Svarshan, then clasps his shoulder after the bro-hug, giving it a small shake. "No, you have not. Do you have it with you?"

Sorscha takes another sip of her wine. but looks to Svarshan. "new Blade, huh?"

Mikilos says, "Magic. Anything is possible. ANYTHING. Msoeso is well-meaning gods are involved." He looks pointedly at the Demon Chomper. "-ANYTHING-,""

Myrana falters, stuttering. "Th-- uh. Uh I mean..." Her dark eyes get big and wobbly, looking at Svar. And shuts her mouth. "...H-hey! Hey lets have some cake!!" She says.

Yelrona looks puzzled by Myrana's denial, then suddenly sad as she misunderstands differently. "Oh!" She takes Myrana's hand between hers. "Oh, I'm _so_ sorry. How thoughtless of us... yes, of course. Cake for everyone!"

Myrana looks ready to sink into the ground. She clutches Yelrona's hand and nods, fervently. Cake. Cake is the answer!

The reptile looks back from Myrana, towards Serene and Sorscha. "It huntss demons. Well," the reptilian paladin replies, happily. Like it's Yule everywhere, and the Sun is shining down on them. Or the Moon. At the base of the Yule tre are tiny, happy, happy little angels with swords. In this perfect, perfect dream they're chasing demons all over the place, while making "Thwack!" "Thwack!" "Thwack!" noises with their tiny, verybloody swords. It's Perfect. 

"Ssa," he says, and lifts the blade. It remains its scabbard, and he passes it to Serene.

Aldean appears to be cheerfully ignoring the group, mingling and chatting up different people, booze still in hand. Never mind cake, it's clear he has something sweeter in mind. 

Sandy gives Aldean a look! Then she turns back towards Svarsha and GLARES at him. And Serene. Because, you know. It's all their fault. Somehow. She casually takes Myrana by the arm thereafter and hands her booze to her. It was originally Myrana's after all. "Drink up," she informs her.

"Erp," Myana takes the glass of cider that Sandy thrusts at her and takes an obliging swallow of the stuff, scrunching up her face as she does so. "I'm not really pregnant," she whispers conspiratorally to Rona, as if this needed stating. "But I can't break Svarshan's heart and he thinks I'm going to lay an egg or something what do I do??"

Serene finally releases the hilt of her own sword to accept Svarshan's. Her left hand grips the scabbard while the right one takes the hilt and pulls. Just enough to reveal a small portion of the blade hidden within. Then she pushes it back in and turns the sword about, examining the workmanship of the pommel, the hilt, the crossguard. "Even I who lacks the Sight can tell this is a special one. You have named it?" It's one of those questions that implies that it better darn well be named and if it's not why not?

Sorscha says, "There's another type od 'egg' you could lay, but it'd kill the party, so don't do it."

Myrana peers at Sorscha, blinking. "What sort of egg?"

Sorscha giggles a little bit. "Rotten."

Myrana grabs a passing plate of cake and shoves it at Sandy.

Yelrona blinks, not quite sure she heard that correctly. "He thinks you're going to lay an egg?" she whispers back. "I... I didn't think it worked that way?" Not that it mattered, if she'd lost the baby. She's briefly distracted by Sorcha's comment, which turns out to be a joke, which continues to surprise her coming from paladins, but she's slowly getting used to it. "I can talk to him, if you'd like?" she offers uncertainly.

Cesran smiles as he takes the cake once it's passed to him. He snickers, "I think Sandy's the one more likely to lay an egg."

"...itss crafter named it. Ssorrow. But I have not yet taken it to the sshamans of my tribe," Svarshan says low-voiced, with visions of chomping demons dancing in his head. Wonderful, wonderful visions that lend his voice a warmth it might not otherwise have. "I thought we might usse it on. Our next hunt," he says.

Then, casts a look towards the bar. Where he had been content, a slight line of tension appears along the shoulder, down to the tail. With a gesture of the latter, he indicates the intoxicated women at the bar, and the Oxleys no doubt edging towards them, to the other paladins. "Perhapss. We sshould keep an eye on. Them," he says to them. "The Oxleyss are here after. All." Then.

More solemnly, "Of coursse. Divine duty may require uss. To pitch Finneouss into the ssides of buildingss. To protect hiss moralss. Of coursse." 

Pause. Longer pause. ...still longer pause. "He may require more than. One lesson." Of course.

"Sorrow and Diligence. There is a pleasant ring to that," Serene admits. "The next hunt then," she says with a nod before allowing duty to call her. Time to keep an eye on the Oxleys.

The Oxleys are on their best behavior. Which is to say still awful.

Mikilos keeps quiet for a bit, sipping his drink. It's a party, sure, but he's self-assigned on clean-up duty. Would do to get himself drunk.
 
Aldean's still working the girls around the bar when the paladins notice. Damn it. Keeping it easy and calm, the bard continues to chat, although by now he's got one on his knee. It's not too long later when he stands up and offers her an arm, and the pair of them slip quietly out into the night. 


Yelrona spots a familiar face across the room as the crowd thins... or, well, a familiar hat, anyway. She makes her way behind him and attempts to snatch the headpiece from his head... ideally without him even noticing.
GAME: Yelrona rolls sleight of hand: (11)+10: 21

Mikilos frowns mildly, thinking. Which is usually a dangerous sort of thing. "I suppose I could make some sort of clone egg... a few drops of blood from each parent, grows into a blend of their traits before 'hatching'... certainly want some sort of safety feature to keep anything unwanted out. Be terrible is a roach crawled in, unknown."

Myrana turns her head sloooowwwwly till she's facing Mikilos.

"You want to make a creepy devil egg?" Myrana pokes the magus gently in the chest.

Yelrona is about to do something with Vel's hat when she hears Mikilos' comments. "A... clone egg? Is that really a thing, or are you making it up?"

Sandy slowly turns as well. SLowly.

Mikilos nods to himself, thinking out loud. This is why he lives alone. "Even a few mold spores on the fingertip could cause a catastrophe." He blinks absently, peering at Myrana's touch. "Wait what? Devil? No. I mean, Sandy comes off that way sometimes, but I pretty sure it's nothing in the bloodline."

"...he could clone Rum," suggests Sandy to Myrana. "Rum kittens." Solemn nod.

"My father used to recommend raw eggs as a hangover remedy," Rona observes, no longer really sure what anyone is talking about. Then she looks at Sandy and blushes, returning her attention to her drink.

Myrana puts her hands on her hips and leans toward Mikilos like a short, bossy schoolmarm. This would be imposing if she were taller. "A creepy magic clone egg made out of blood sounds PRETTY beardly, wizard!" she says, riling up. "If we were meant to lay eggs we'd have... we'd have CHICKEN PARTS."

"I remember," says Sandy, dryly, to Yelrona. Apparnetly, shet met the girl's father. She scowls briefly.

"Or lizard parts!" Yelrona observes helpfully.

Myrana says, "Right! Or lizard parts!"

Mikilos says, "Well, it's really less an 'egg' than an external womb. But I suppose if you're ready to bear a child the regular way we can start shooing people out of here and leave you and your wife to some privacy."

"Griffons," Yelrona adds solemly, carefully enunciating each word and clearly not having heard anything Mikilos said, "don't lay eggs." It's possible Yelrona has had too much to drink. Apparently she's a cheap date.
OOC: Yelrona has gained the "Cheap Date" ability.
===========================>  Sheet for Yelrona  <============================
===============================>  Abilities  <================================
 +2 vs. Enchantment...... Ageless.................. Arcane Connection........
 Cheap Date.............. Elven Magic.............. Elven Weapon Familiarity.
 Evasion................. Fae Insight.............. Ghost Sound 4/Day........
 Immunity to Sleep....... Keen Senses.............. Low-Light Vision.........
 Mage Hand 4/Day......... Sneak Attack 1d6......... Speed: 30................
 Talent: Weapon Finesse.. Trapfinding..............
==============================================================================

Sandy just glares at Mikilos. She reaches over and grabs his ear and bends it some. "YOu. Stop. Talking."

Mikilos stops talking. Out loud. That eyebrow waggle, however...

Myrana straightens up with a horrified shudder. External wombs! HORROR! She shudders, eyes huge and filled with phantasmal scary babies! "Oh no! Our horrible babies!"

Sandy pinches his ear. Harder.

Sandy is horrified as well. Which is why she's still pinching Mikilos' ear.

Yelrona looks at Mikilos and Sandy, concerned. "Does that hurt?" she asks the blond elf.

Mikilos says, "Well, yes, but less than the shin kicking I usually get."

Velothin finally looks up from his cup and deems he has missed absolutely nothing of importance over the last few hours of festivities.

Yelrona nods solemnly, just as though that explanation made sense.

Sandy promptly kicks him in the shin. He deserves it.

Mikilos sputters. "What?! You have lots of options. I just offering another. If you don't like it, just say so. No need for violence."

Sandy kicks him again.

Yelrona tilts her head in the opposite direction and asks again, "Does _that_ hurt?"

Mikilos says, "Yes. Quite a bit, really."

"Well I don't really--" Myra stops, and looks over suspiciously. But Svarshan isn't close enough to hear. "Well I don't really want a baby, so there's no need for creepy eggs or scary, pulsating wombs, RIGHT, MISTER VELOTHIN?" She suddenly throws her arm around his shoulder, like that scene in Jaws where the shark jumps out of nowhere.

Velothin wears an expression of subtle horror.

"Agreed," says Sandy to Myrana, firmly. She looks rather grossed out by the horrible conversation.

Yelrona nods a few times, contemplatively, then turns to Sandy. "_I_ have an idea," she announces. "Maybe you could --" Whatever she was about to suggest is lost in the sudden discussion of creepy eggs and scary wombs. Perhaps for the best.

"Do go on," is what Sandy says to YElrona once she lets go of Mik's ears.

Mikilos looks to Yelrona expectantly, and rubs his ear gently.

Yelrona looks back and forth uncertainly, then soldiers on. "Well, um... I was going to suggest you could maybe not kick him so much. Which would hurt less, you see."

"...but he deserved it," says Sandy with big eyes to Yelrona.

Mikilos says, "No, already had the ear pinch. One or the other, not both."

Myrana takes her arm off of poor Velothin. Having had a drink (and assured that there's not gonna be horrific baby furnaces installed in her apartment) she's a good deal more laid-back than usual. "That's true," she says, nodding to Yelrona and taking a sip of her cider. "Mikilos may be a fusty old wizard with a poor concept of personal boundaries," she intones, so wise! "But kicking him is very rude, especially since he always dresses so nicely."

Yelrona nods solemnly, just as though that made sense.

"Noted," says Sandy to Myrana. "Personal note: destroy Mikilos' clothes so he has to spend money at my shop."

Mikilos blinks sadly at Sandy. "Not my robes!"

Sandy gives Mikilos a wide eyed innocent look.

Yelrona focuses laboriously on Mikilos, then looks back at Sandy. She whispers conspiratorially in a perfectly audible voice "His clothes aren't really so nice, you know."

"Mine and Myrana's are better," agrees Sandy with YElrona.

Mikilos says, "...they're expensive. And Magic."

Yelrona returns Velothin's hat to his head as he passes out. "Your clothes are magic?" she says incredulously. "What do they do?"

"Keep him from smelling like bat shit and toad poo," says Sandy, solemnly, to Yelrona.

Yelrona thinks about that for a while. "That sounds useful?" she says uncertainly, then frowns and shakes her head. "No, I don't mean 'useful'. I mean the other thing."

Mikilos says, "No, that's what the cloves are for. The Robes, despite being cloth, will deflect a blade as well as metal. They also turn aside spells and effects, and aid my own casting efforts. They're also quite the status symbol in SOME circles." He shoots Sandy a Look. "Not that some understand such things."

Myrana hrmphs. "I have magic clothes," she says, haughtily.

"They're way better than his," agrees Sandy with Myrana. She knows better than to do anything other than support Myrana here.

"If I could find them, they'd be great!" Myra agrees, making a determined fist!

Yelrona is clearly struggling to keep track of this complicated multi-clothes narrative. It's possible that she sampled the black gin. Bad idea. "What do your clothes do?" she asks Myrana. "And whose clothes are you wearing now?"

Mikilos says, "...you lost your clothing?"

Myrana opens her mouth to brag that these are her clothes she's wearing, but then pauses, coughing. "I didn't LOSE it," she says, clearing her throat. "I just don't know where it is."

"Oh! I see. You..." Yelrona trails off, puzzled. "No, I don't see. What?"

Mikilos nods in undestanding. "Was it Sandy? It's part of her wifely side if your clothing sometimes goes missing. A little naked time together is good for you."

"...Myrana, I see you are holding a shovel." Sanddy clears her throat.

Yelrona rubs the bridge of her nose, increasingly confused. "Wait. Who is naked?" She looks around curiously.

Myrana crumples a little, sputtering. "N-n.. nobody is naked." She shoots Mikilos a reproachful look. "You shouldn't talk so casually about that sort of thing! It's embarrassing."

Mikilos says, "Casual? I'm quite serious."

"...I don't really understand what's happening anymore. Maybe I had too much to drink," says Sandy.

Yelrona 's eyes open wide with sudden drunken understanding. "Oh! _I_ get it! You're talking about _sex_!" She seems very pleased with herself for figuring that out. "Well of _course_ you're naked for sex. Aren't you? I mean, _I_ always am. But is it different here?" She seems genuinely curious.

Myrana covers her face with her hands and groans miserably.

Mikilos nods. "Pretty sure that's wh Myrana lost her clothing to Sandy."

Sandy puts a hand over her face. "You're going to break my wife."

Yelrona points to Mikilos enthusiastically. "Right! That makes sense!" It's good that _someone_ here is making sense.

Myrana makes a sorrowful sound between her hands. "Everyone is so embarrassingggg"

"They are the worst," agrees Sandy, solemnly, to Myrana.

Yelrona nods sympathetically. "Yes, I..." she mumbles, then her head smacks against the table. Snoring sounds are audible.

[at which point your humble scribe logged out]