As the merry mob of mood killers entered the bar, Tugg at first paid them little heed, then when he saw how the intire mood seem to die in the place, he half turned to look at those who had entered, he dident like party poopers, feast stopping was a major crime in the ogre kingdoms. But then the biggest of the tiny masnling started barking, bla bla bla. Then the insult came, aye it was small, but it instantly gave Tugg both a frown and a smile. Rising up to his full hight, he quickly lifted up his cask and poured the purplish liqued within down his throat, while that witch missed caskated down him. "IS A FIGHT YOU WANT, A FIGHT YOU GET, CUS IM NOT STUPID" The ogre yelled, as his hand smashed into the bar infront of him, parts of it instantly splitering at the used force. There wasent even time to hear the nails of the floor give away, as most of the bar, witch had previusly been been nailed solid to the floor, came flying, aimed in about the general direction to the side of the bar he wasent in.
Kristoff gave a small whistle as well which prompted a reluctant Vorgen to follow him. Taking out his massive warhammer, he stood in between the two groups, refusing to let innocents on either side be killed. He slammed his hammer onto the ground to gain everyone's attention. "By Ulrics name, this madness ends now!" He bellowed at both parties, his normally jovial face set into a fierce snarl. He then turned to address the crowd of angered locals that had gathered. "At ease brothers, I'm a son the Empire as well. Return home, plough your wives. By morning we will be gone, and I'll compensate for the damage." With that said he pulled out a large pouch of coins, showing he wasn't trying to fool them.
@Colapse Mariah laughed as the group gathered before them. "You know, I actually kind of like these peoples' train of thought. Your manors, however; are lacking. Who are you peasants to come in here making demands? I suggest if it is a fight you seek, you then take the orc and ogre outside to have you fill."
Tuska smiled from his seat at the bar and looked at the men who walked in and actually thought they could scare him. He turned in his seat with a devilish smile and he slowly started to laugh in his deep orcish voice. "Ha youz fink ye can intimidate me wif dat little shard of tin on a twig ya scrawny git?" He reached under his cloak and grabbed his main weapon a missive axe the same size as the man threading in them. He swung it around and slammed the end of its pommel on the ground causing the ground to shake for a second and splitting the wooden floor boards. "Dis is an real axe!" Tuska grabbed his drink before the ogre tossed the entire bar and drank its contents before placing it on what remained of the bar. He looked to the priest trying to prevent an all out brawl. "Oi da las in armor is right ows about me an da big fella ere take dez gits outside Iz don't want da drinks in ere ta get smashed up anyways."
Ubarin walked among the mud and the rain as he traveled the road his staff and was at use at the moment as a walking staff as a cloak and hood covered his head as he traveled, He had been lost for a day now, only recently finding a path after hours of travel and recently finding what looked to be a town. Ares squawked several times shaking off the rain as she stood on her masters arm. "Well Ares seems we have found a town and it looks like the locals maybe riled up from the looks of it though." Ubarin spoke to ares keeping his staff close to his side he began getting closer to the tavern he could see a post for A Thomas, looking for mercenaries. A smile came to his face under his hood as he thought to himself of his time spent with the gold older he would have frowned upon it. Now it would likely be a good way to make a living. As he saw a group of villagers all armed he decided to approach from a safe distance and call out to them. "Hail there fellows is there trouble currently in the tavern there?" He asked as he looked upon them.
Khelandria paid no attention to the animals; she just hoped that with the bitch obviously in heat they wouldn't start rutting under her feet. She was beginning to enjoy the civilised conversation she was having with of all things, a Shadow Warrior. Khaine moves in mysterious ways. Yet is violence not common to all? The craft of death is a great leveller. She was about to reply, having taken a small portion of the rather good stew and its accompaniments to go with her wine (a decent vintage). Two things happened then, almost at once. A small group of the locals applied to get killed, which several of the members of the growing mercenary band could surely have obliged them with. Khelandria felt a familiar pulse in her veins, the urge to draw her daggers and spill blood and rejoice in slaughter in the name of - - and a Sorceress. A Khaine-blessed, living and breathing Sorceress of the Druchii, sworn to the Dark Covenant*, here, in this backwater town, as much a vision from home as a blizzard of ice over cold ones. "Sister in Blood?" she blinked, adjusting her high tiara and squinting as if she might be seeing things. *OK so the books say Dark Convent, which makes nay bloody sense, we think they might have meant either Coven or Covenant.
Spoiler: Music View: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ZQJf0TwDjlg From nowhere directly visible music started to enchant the entire tavern. Obviously in an aggressive tune to provoke the escalation, the war-rhythm beat of a leather boot against wood while a violin would insinuate violence with it's fast strokes and enticing beats that made one wish to hit someone. Obviously a composition created to demonstrate, if not even inspire conflict. So was Fiddlesticks personality, having watched, having learned, having been inspired as he sat near the ceiling on a wooden support beam, standing, slightly jumping as he stomped on the wood. Alas as the music was playing for not even a mere entire minute, the crappily maintained wood gave in and the Goblin's music vanished as soon as it came, him crushing down and landing with his back on the middle of the bar. "Argh.... Not... As planned..." He complained, holding his fiddle and stick over his chest while starting to regain footing, groaning as he got up. "I am Fiddlesticks, a Musoblin! Get it? Musician, Goblin. Musoblin." He fixed his hat, starring into the group that was composed of what would make an understatement to 'odd', but their composition alone was inspiring. The lyrics were clear, just a melody would have to be composed to be fit to them...
@Jorimel "Khelan is that okay. Well isn't it my day a Sorceress Glad I don't hate you guys... yet" He laughed as he looked at her and put his face mask up and pulled his swords ready to end the men. "You out powered friends were here for work push off unless you want to lose more than just digits." @Colapse
"I would prefer Khelandria," said Khelandria, still smiling, friendly enough. "The only men to shorten my name did so in screams."
"Understood Khenlandria I don't want to test your skill here." His humble tone gone and very serious.
