Flounder's Flurry (Open)

[Trinity]

~Timestamp~
It is Hour 19 of Ioannolia, Brightening 3 of the First Cycle of Kalendryas
Winter of Era I of the Celestine Mandate
Era X Post Fractum (PF) in the Age of Darkening, the Mageocracy of Julos the Mad
Paradigm: Coronation of Queen Sharinya of the Fae Folk

Important! Location: Inside the Flounder's Finn Tavern

Every tavern has its brawls occasionally, nothing out of the ordinary. Usually though, everyone, including the bartender could see it coming like a storm peaking over the horizon. One customer harping on the fault of another, a drunkard hitting on another's gal, they started in all shapes and forms. It was many a time that Narim's wonderful military was on the scene in some form or another though and gladly helped out to make sure no civilians were hurt. That is, as long as they too weren't a bit on the drunken side.

Tonight, The Flounder's Finn was literally packed and almost bursting at the amount of people inside. Every table and barstool had an occupant, the walls were lined with people and the waitresses practically swam through the masses to even make an attempt at serving everyone. Something, that might be noted, was not happening too quickly.

However, the western wall contained no less than four soldiers and the Prefect of Narim himself - a man that had seen a good few years and was now growing a bit bald... But the fire that first kindled in his eyes as a young lad when he'd taken the position still flickered in his gaze. He was stern, and everyone seemed to hold him in high regard. Such was the reason, when a fight broke out and he was there, everyone just knew he was going to be the one to stop it.

Earlier, that night though, patrons at the bar spoke in whispers as a inaudible argument transpired between the Prefect and the head bartender. No one could really decipher what was going on.. Something of bribes was all they heard. That, and the bartender repeatedly denied, or shook his head, indicating he wasn't going to play along with whatever the Prefect was up to.. or something like that. After a few minutes, the human stomped away in a fit of irritation, the head bartender shaking his head sadly after him before returning to work.

The thing was, in such a crowded tavern, tempers were flaring. All too soon, a fight no one really expected began to break out between unlikely brawlers. One almost snapped his glass in his hand in irritation at the other, hollering,
"Hey chubby! Stop orderin' tha whole fethin' menu and let 'er take some other guy'ses orders!"
To which, a rather plump man turned in his chair to face the speaker, who happened to be an Elf, and snarled indigenously.
"Who' yeh callin' chubby, pretty boy?! Think yer' all good 'an whatnot 'cuz yer' blonde and have them pointy er's, do yeh!? Yeh've got weak girly arms, an' yer smelly enuff to be 'un too! Wha's that, anyways? Flowers?"
The Elf, of course, being a bit drunk, snarled back..
"I'll show you flowers!" Not making much sense, and stood up very dramatically - as did the human. Both had looks of sheer hate on their faces, and quite frankly not many of the other customers seemed to care at the moment. The waitress, however, scampered away very quickly and tried to make her way over to the bartender or Prefect, whichever she could get to first.. Things were going to get rather ugly in a quickened manner, and that definitely wasn't what was needed in the Flounder's Finn on such a jam packed night.

[Kour'el Kha'Serith]

OOC: I hope you don't mind if I crash your thread

IC: The emerald draconess was standing near the two men, trying to make her way through the crowds to the bar and answer the call of a nice warm tea cup calling out her name. She was new to Narim, only reaching the city gates a few candle marks earlier, now she seeked warm food and a place to stay. She was oblivious to the disagreement between the prefect and the bartender of the Flounders Finn. Ignorance truly was bliss and truth be told even if she was aware of the disagreement, she probably wouldn't care anyways, she was far more focused on not being overwhelmed by the masses of people that were in the bar at this time. Bright lady! If I had known this was such a popular tavern I would have taken my patronage somewhere else. Really, the press of all these soft skins is reminiscant of my days spent in Alleria Prime.

Humans or others of the soft skins races hardly fazed the draconess, having been raised among them, but crowds frazzled her nerves. She didn't like them and often they caused her temper to turn sour. So when the paunchy human and the frilly long ears began arguing, her last nerve quickly was ground down to nothing. Turning a baleful amber eye on the pair, she snapped out in a loud voice full of scorn.

"Now really sirs, its bad enough this place is crowded by you soft skins bu soem people are trying to derive some pleasure from their visit here and listening to squabbling morons fightin is not high up on my entertainment for dinner list. WOuld you kindly take you argument outside, perhaps the cold will sooth your hot heads."

[Celethor Tyran]

Celethor was seated on a stool in front of the bar as he usually was these days. He could hear the racket from the bartender and the Prefect, though he wasn't trying at all to eavesdrop. In fact, he was intent on doing exactly the opposite. Right now he cared nothing for others' troubles. At this moment he cared only for finishing his drink and swaggering his way on back to the military barracks, where he "lived" at this point in time. All the noise just from the crowd in the bar was continually pushing him towards snapping, however, and his head felt ready to explode at this moment. But the dracon simply took another sip of his ale, and stared at nothing, thinking of nothing.

After a little while, he felt a faint signal in his head. This only happened when The Call was taking place. Celethor could sense another dracon was near. He immediately sat up and looked around. Dracons here in Narim were rare, and he would be glad to be in the company of one of his kind for once. Now that he thought about it, he hadn't been in dracon company since he left home and went off to go on some sort of adventure.

When he saw the draconess come striding into the Inn, he was taken suddenly by her. She was incredibly beautiful. Celethor could not describe it, but he was immediately attracted to this goddess the moment he laid eyes on her. So when the fight broke out between the two men, he knew instantly which side he would be taking in the argument. So he spoke up.

"The lady is right. You two are obviously too drunk for your own good and need some fresh air. Your quarreling is really making my head hurt, even more than it was before, and I'm sure all of us would be most grateful if you both would settle your problems in a less... public setting."

[Trinity]

The Elf was the first to respond to Kour'el. His face contorted as he looked her up and down, digusted that.. that.. a hardskin of all races would dare speak to him.
"What was that, you scaley scum of Jorel's own hide?" He replied coursely, taking note of Celethor aswell.
However, his comrade.. Or rather, opponent, turned to face the male hardskin in a good bit of fury.
"Did you just call me drunk, lizard?" Replied the plump man, balling his beady fists and narrowing his chubby brow. Others were now taking notice, whispers of Dracons and scaled heathens whizzed through the air. A fight on the edge of bursting, and yet the Prefect in his corner did nothing.

Infact, when his companions tried to make a move to help break up the arguement, the Prefect's head turned towards them. Celethor and Kour'el couldn't make out what was said, but whatever he'd snarled at them with that vicious, sour temperment he currently held on his face got them to refrain from coming to the Dracon and Draconess' aid in soothing a steadily building fight.

The bartender looked disgusted at all of it, shaking his head as he cleaned a glass. His eyes darted every now and then towards the prefect, who smirked back indegionously, proud of what he was accomplishing in a refusal to assist this mess. However, the other patrons around the bar took no note of the wretched Elf, human and Dracons... They just wanted their ale.
Angry voices filled the area around the bartender as he snapped back to reality, trying to appease his impatient patrons.

"Calm down, calm down, O'mally's comin'!" Hollered the man, grumpily running off to fill up more mugs for ale and accept the payment. One particularly angry patron snorted at the Bartender and commented on his ability to serve - saying there was basically a lack of one. More enranged murmers filled the air, and soon enough chaos erupted. Or at least, seemed to spread like an annoying parasite.

Elven eyes laid gaze on plump human pupils. Both narrowed, and before anyone could say anything, fists were flying. Pale elven skin slung at the taunt flesh of his argumentative insultant. Crash, smack..
Before the two Dracon's eyes, the fists began to fly. And yet, still, as some were beginning to notice, the prefect watched it all with a knowing smirk and didn't move a muscle.

[Kour'el Kha'Serith]

Kour'el was plesantly surprised to feel the hum of the Call go off in the base of her skull and a voice ring out in that agreed with her own arguments. She took a sidelong glance and nodded her head at the strange dracon polietly. Perhaps when this fiasco was ended and peace was restored a drink would be in order between her and the stranger. She hadn't meet any knew scaled breathren since her amazing finding of her half brother and new friends were always welcome.

As for the whispers or the comment from the drunk human softskin Kour'el ignored them and they rolled off her scales like water. She had been shot down by far more derogatory terms than that and her skin was quite impervious to the remarks. Kour'el did feel like snarling as the man in the corner with his guards refused to help calm the situation down. Obviously he did minimal work for his crowns, the bastard. She shot him a look of disgust and set about doing his own job.

When the fist began to fly from the elf and the fat human Kour'el considered giving them both a thwap on the skull. Still it wasn't the best thing to do in a new town but the pair was effectivly killing her appetite. If they weren't too drunk maybe a snarl or baring of her sharp teeth in their faces might put an end to this ruckus. Most people would rather not have the teeth and claws of a dracon in their face. A bit shift of her wings to make her size seem bigger would help too. Not the smartest thing she ever did and probably not the last time she did anythign so foolish. If she was lucky hopefully she wouldn't be kicked out of Narim before she got some food and sleep.

So flaring her wings and arranging her facial features into a snarl that showed all of her clean ivory fangs she wadded in and attempted to push the two apart. She had faced scarier opponents in the AFCL so she wasn't to worried about their flying fists, if one of the drunk men hit her she could always hit back and claim self defence.

[Lucia Etencelle]

It had taken her a while to find a good tavern close by.. that is, after trying to avoid that beggar man who was asking for a crown for a "fortune reading". Instantly, that had scared her and caused her to skitter off in a fast stride. She was deathly scared of people who could tell the future.. whether they were the genuine article or phonies. After all, why worry about the future when the present was much more important? That was always her philosophy...

The door to that tavern opened slowly and silently, and, with a soft tap of black leather boots, she stepped in, wide, inquisitive violet eyes looking about that place before widening at that brawl which had, it seemed, already broken out before she had even arrived there. It was typical, though... Every other such tavern she had visited had, at one time, hosted a sort of fight before. Only a few times, though, had she ever been involved in one, the last three with her acting as a sort of moderator. She shuddered at those memories of fists flying so very close to her head and vulgarities shouted halfway across the room.

Eventually, she shut that door behind her, jumping after that loud slam punctuated the air. She really hadn't meant for it to be shut that loudly... A nervous lilac-tinted stare turned to that now shut door behind her, a black brow lifted as though to ask it why it had slammed so. Maybe there was a sort of draft? She had only given it a gentle shove with her hand, after all. Shrugging lightly with a forward tug of the lapels on her black jacket, she continued on inward, skirting that fight in a wide semicircle before coming to a table close to the back. She still watched that brawl between the elf and that rather round human with a half-nervous, half-curious gaze as she pulled a chair out from under the table, nearly falling as the edge of the seat rammed into her shins. Eventually, though, she managed to regain her balance, taking a seat in the chair before propping her feet atop the table and leaning that chair back to rest against the wall behind her. Might as well make herself comfortable while she waited for service....

[Trinity]

As Kour'el tried to push her way between the two, the Elven fist met with her arm and the human fist connected squarely with the main bone of her wing. Neither or which did any real damage, but just kind of stung a bit. However, their hands were more injured that Kour'el would have been after ten punches, much less one. They both howled inssently about their fists, attracting a lot of attention from surrounding patrons and basically calling a stop to most service in the area.

Even O'Mally, the bartender of bartenders came to a halt as he set down a mug of ale for someone and had almost begun one for a particularily enraged patron a the end of the bar, rather close to the swinging wooden waist door that allowed O'Mally and other employees in and out of the bar area.

A waitress that had waded to Lucia stopped what she was about to say to watch the two silly drunkards and the Draconess go at it, wondering what was going to happen in all this mess. She whispered, loud enough for Lucia to hear, "By the gods, what a Beast!" Obviously, this was in reference to the jade and emerald Diantar Dracon in the midst of the brawl between the two dumb customers she'd ran from earlier. The two softskins glared at Kour'el and were met with a nice shot of ivory fanged teeth infront of them. Not a wonderful sight. Even they, the drunken parties, had some sense.. But even that was coming to them slowly. For the moment, they sat in a dumbfounded trance while their slowed minds tried to put together what happened thus far.

O'Mally had been told of this, but dared not to go talk to the Prefect about it. What was he going to do about it? He wanted a bribe, and Duerias O'Mally was not going to give him one. So, of course, that silly guy was going to threaten his soldiers and keep them from helping anyone or anything until he was pacified with crowns to line his pockets.

Lucia Etencelle had been lucky enough to get a table relatively close to where the Prefect was standing on his wall.. And consequently overheard the last bit of a transpiring conversation, or more, rather.. an arguement and complaint followed by a simple threat.

"But boss, we've gotta do somethin' before one of thems gets a face full 'o Drak'un claws!" Chimed one of the guards, almost on the verge of whining.
"Listen you," barked back the unruly Prefect, "If you as so much ---" The yell of the crowded tavern rose too high, the Prefect's voice getting lost within it's open sea for a moment. Finally, it found it's way back to Lucia... "Docked three cycle's pay and cleaning the sewers for a whole month, is that understood?"

Simulatneous gulps were his fellow law enforcer's responses. This was an obvious threat, it seemed.
But Lucia was not the only one within earshot. Other men were, and one happened to be a man by the name of Breon had also overheard them. His reactions were yet to be seen, but something told the surrounding customers this guy wasn't happy about something.
Who knew, they were more interested in the fight.

Back over near the bar, the patron at the end's wheels were turning. His mind was slowly cococting.. something, it seemed, for he who was complaining of slow service and no ale for half the night was suddenly very quiet, and very patient. Something was amiss with this dude.. But what, was, as of yet.. unknown.

[Lucia Etencelle]

Trying to look innocent after hearing the spat, obviously between a tavern guard and his superior, she kept her stare straightforward, an ear perked to the guards while watching that brawl with a wary eye. Was there some sort of tavern guards' strike in this particular place? Was it the only instance in this whole town? A contemplative sort of stare flashed on her face before it turned into a blank sort of expression. She could probably easily guess what the motivation behind the refusal of the guard's superior to do the assigned job. It was almost always the same thing: money. A brief, flat look overtook her round, pale face before she went back to watching that brawl... occasionally eyeing that man at the end of the bar who seemed ready to spring into action with some sort of plan..... She hardly even paid the woman who had come near her any mind the whole time.

[Kour'el Kha'Serith]

Kour'el snorted after she felt the blow on her arm and wing from the pair. It was extremly pathetic, really, they hadn't even manage to bruise her. As they whimpered about their poor bloody hands Kour'el had to roll her eyes. It really was amazing how the stupidity of soft skins was ever increasing, soon Telath woudl be ruled by a gaggle of slobbering hump bak idiots with two teeth in their heads and even less intelligence, or at least, thats how Kour'el envisoned the future. She just hoped she would be long dead and her kids would have taken off to the hiden city to protect them selves.

She ignored the rest of the crowd inside the bar, they were irrelavant to her at the moment. She was focused on the two on eithe side of her. If she could reduce other soft skins to peeing their pants as soon as they caught sight of her than she could deal with this drunken pair easily. She kept her arms rigid, it would unravel the unsteady peace they had now to let them at each other again. Waiting a few second with her teeth showing to let the image register fully in their sodden minds she finally spoke on a conversationaly tone of voice.

" Well now, are you going to sit down and shut yoru mouths so the rest of us can enjoy our drinks in peace or are you going to insist on using your rather pathetic punches, which I must say I've seen better on little ones, on me and each other. If thats the case I can always throw you on your asses outside. So what will it be gentleman?"

It definatly wasn't the way to make friend in a new town, but so far the only one that had perked her intrest had been her fellow dracon.

[Celethor Tyran]

Celethor had hoped that it wouldn't come to violence, but something had to be done about the two barbarous men. The dracon admired the female draconess for trying to break up the fight peacefully, but Celethor didn't think it would be that easy. The two looked awfully mad at both each other and the draconess for some silly reason. Celethor thought it was outragous that all of this was due to one man taking too much time with the waitress. But, they had been drinking, so their anger was probably because of their soberness.

"Yes, boys, I'm quite sure both myself and my fellow 'scum of Jorel's hide' could take on both of you guys easily. I really don't want it to come to that, however. This is one of my best shirts..." Celethor looked worried as he glanced down at his white shirt. But as he did this, he smiled, indicating that he was just joking about getting his shirt dirty. He would gladly sacrifice the hour to wash it again for the chance of beating the crap out of two drunks.

[Trinity]

Things seemed to, for once this night, becoming a bit more under control. The fatter one of the two drunkards took a hard seat once more and nodded to Kour'el Ka'Serith, smiling hesitantly. He wasn't dumb, he wasn't going to pick a bone with this scaled beast. She was stronger, she was more witty and basically, he knew she would be able to take him down rather quickly. It was the smartest descision he'd made all night.

The elf patron also seemed to take the same initiative, glaring at Celethor all the while as he sat down. A waitress however, carrying lots of dishes and a few full mugs of ale on her tray was passing by. Being the obstinate character this fella was, he stuck his foot out and tripped the poor missus, making her toss the dishes - and break them all - on the ground. Ale was slung all over the place, splashing some patrons and getting all over Celethor's white shirt.
"Oops," Rolled the Elf sarcastically, pretending to be shocked by putting a hand over his mouth and raising his eyebrows, "I need to be more careful..." At the end of that word, he flicked a green pea off himself that had hit him and pegged Celethor on the nose..
"Don't I."

Everyone was going crazy now. Ale was all over surrounding customers, who happened to throw a fit because of it, waitresses were bustling all over the place trying to clean the mess up and help their fellow waitress to her feet... And that's when it was noticed that something very, very bad had happened.

In the commotion, there had been more crashes behind O'Mally's bar. Now, when everyone looked, the head bartender was gone... The dwarf had disappeared. A cracked mug he was filling was spilled on the side of the table, along with the one that belonged to the very last patron that had been sitting there. He too, was gone. The door to behind the counter was swinging in an eerie manner..
The last sound that made most everyone momentarily stop complaing was the loud 'Thump!' of the tavern's wooden door as it shut behind the culprit.

The Prefect again, when the commotion stirred once more spoke to his fellow guards..
"No! None of you are going," Started the man. Of course, pieces of his speech were getting lost in the hub bub again, but Lucia and her great position, aswell as the man named Breon could both hear most of what was said.
"Duerias deserves what he-"

More looks of fear on the other's faces. What had this guy done now? His eyes suddenly looked around to see if anyone heard him, resting on patron after patron. He had assumed no one had, but now was doubting himself.

A sudden cry from a waitress beckoned to Kour'el and Celethor's ears..
"Duerias!" She wailed, "He's kidnapped Duerias O'Mally!"

[Lucia Etencelle]

Curious violet eyes remained upon the elf and the fat human who were in that fight while she kept her hearing focused on the guards' conversations. Nervously, she began to trace a gloved finger over a glossy black spiral that hung from her rather sloppy, loose bun at the nape of her neck. Suddenly, it seemed as though something.. terrible... had happened. Chaos seemed to prevail the tavern, but... that wasn't it.

Once more, her stare bounced back to that shifty looking patron at the end of the bar, only to land upon nothing. The one behind the bar, the bartender, was gone, as well. Something... wrong was happening... A shocked stare turned to the human, the elf, and the two dracons, watching as a waitress bustled up to them, seeming to cry out something to the pair of dracons. Her ears picked up the usual command the prefect had barked to the other guards, along with another bit that didn't seem to make sense... What was going on, and...

"Who is this Duerias fellow?" she whispered out to that man, Breon, lavender hues staring to him in a questioning manner as a black brow perked.

[Kour'el Kha'Serith]

Kour'el had to give the fat human a small hard smile, he at least knew an ass kicking on his doorstep when he saw it. He had more sense that the stupid elf did, though the long-eared and long lived races had a nasty habit of putting pride first on their list of important things in life and everything else took second place. Arrogant elves, how I want to skin the whole damned race sometimes. Its sad when the supposed evil elves have more self control and are friendlier than their light skinned relatives.

Kour'el's patience with the pair was quickly reaching its end so when the elf tripped the waitress and splattered her fellow dracon with food stuffs than added insult to injury by flicking more food at Celethor, what little restraint Kour'el had broke and she leaned toward him and gave him a slap in the face. It was a hard, palm open, talons pointed slightly inward slap. She meant to mark him for the rest of his life with scars to show off his foolishness. After delivering that gift she started in on her verbal bashing of the elf. Interestingly enough this part of her education she excelled at and she had an extensive vocabulary, enough to make the hardest sailor blush red. She started with the elf, dredged up the mental image of a dwarf and described in great detail the biological acts the elf could do with said dwarf and a dead fish. Next she progressed to his family tree, implying it had no branches and so fourth, her final touch was to simply stand there and swear at him till she had used up all of her words before repeating herself. This was said in a loud clear voice to raise the humilation level.

It was at this point where the waitress' cry of "He's kidnapped Duerias O'Mally!" broke through to Kour'el and she looked around with a slightly puzzled look crossing her finely scaled features. Clearly she had no idea who the waitress was screaming about. She bellowed out " Who in blazes is Duerias O'Mally and who has kidnapped him?" hoping her cry would at least give some answer to this insane bar and it inhabitants. SO much for a nice quiet drink. The god must be rolling around on their planes at this bit of mischief they're creating.

[Steve Lionhart Gil'dae]

Steve felt like having a nice, quiet drink. Steve enjoyed a good ale, and he knew he could find one in the Flounders. It was certainly a nice way to spend his time out of the military complex. Steve was wearing his normal clothes and had his coat wrapped tightly around him to protect himself from the cold. At his side was his sword, but he prayed he wouldn't need it. Steve had learnt Narim could be a strange and dangerous place though, and it was better to be safe than sorry.

Steve reached the entrance to the Flounders and eager to escape the cold, he quickly entered the tavern. Unfortuantly though, it seemed his wish for a quiet drink wasn't going to happen. He was greeted by a barmaid screaming about something, angry murmers and two drunken men along with Celethor and another Dracon who Steve hadn't seen before. He assumed the atmosphere had something to do with the two drunks. Steve had no idea what was going on but tensions seemed to be running high and things seemed on the brink of choas, Steve had obviously walked in at a bad moment

"Errmm, whats going on in here Celethor?" He asked his buddy as he casually strode up to the bar. What ever was going on, he wasn't going to be detered from having a drink, but he did want to know what was happening here.