PM to join [The Spot] Ale, Insults and Conversations (Hayl)

[Hayl]

“So Hayl… How good are you at darts?” Hayl heard her say. He thought about it for a moment. He thought about being honest and admitting he had a flaw. Maybe that would show a little trust to a stranger and would bridge the gap between Scar and him for a potential friendship. Perhaps if he just started being completely honest with these two ladies, they would appreciate him for who he is. Maybe if they saw him for a simple semi-successful thief they would admire his boldness in divulging the reluctant information about himself. Nope. He thought quickly of a decent story about winning a dart championship somewhere in Sunberth. He raised his finger and opened his mouth to begin spinning his tail when Scar let the dart fly. He witnessed the dart stick the burly man’s back, the man turned and bellowed out at the girl easily half his size. Her witty, if not foolish, retorts and her instigations to the brawl. Her warning for him and Dolce to leave, but he was still too shocked to really register her words. He then saw the coarse language exchange and again with her witty comments. She talks almost as much filth as Hayl does. The attempted blow from the burly man projecting the girl into their table. “My drink…” Hayl muttered, gathering the most terrible thing to happen so far was the loss of his beverage. Then he realized his finger was still in the air and his mouth was still open, as if the series of events forced Hayl to freeze in place from the shock. He blinked and grabbed his hand down. “If I’m not careful I’m going to develop a reputation as the cities Shyke magnet.” He thought to himself. Hayl did always seem to be in the wrong place at the wrong time. “What just happened?” he looked over at Dolce. The man advanced her again, this time failing completely and paying dearly for it. Hayl squinted a grimace when she put the darts to good use. He breathed in sharply an empathetic pain to the man gurgling a moan. The incident had attracted quite the audience that Hayl had not yet noticed until their collective “Ooooh” lamented around the partitioned circle of onlookers. He watched her cut the crowd and run for the door, and then witnessed the man take off after her with a fire in his eyes. “Okay, I had better step in before Scar acquires some more name sakes.” He muttered and took one sprinted step after the man before he felt the collar of his shirt rise up and choke him. Someone behind him grabbed a fistful of his shirt and yanked him away from the pursuit. Hayl fell down on his back looking up just in time to see a button fly off his shirt, up nearly touching the roof, and arching over into the crowd, to be lost forever. When his tracking eyes lost the button they shot back looking up at the man looking down at him, guilty of the cowardly assault on Hayl’s shirt. “Yew wif her? Cuz no wun hurts moi mate wif out payen dearly.” Perhaps the protégé of the burley drunkard Scar is currently dealing with. No doubt inspired by the grunting of his “mate” he is so affectionate towards that he picked Hayl for a target of his own. Hayl himself was madder that his nice shirt was ruined. So mad that he couldn’t even form the words to express it, which is saying a lot. He simply gritted his teeth while trying to control his fierce impulsive urge to retaliate. The attempt to resist lasted until Hayl heard someone yell, “Ow… Is that a button?” and he couldn’t contain himself no more. The man stood with his feet at the top of Hayl’s head, so Hayl rolled over his shoulder and swiftly kicked the man in the knee while the thief recovered to his feet. “OW! Me bad knee!” The ignoramus howled. Hayl watched the man drop his guard while he grabbed his knee, lowering his head to a more suitable range for Hayl’s foot. Hayl chambered his right leg high and planted it with as much force as he could straight into the man’s face. The man could do nothing but kiss the bottom of Hayl’s boot while his body absorbed the impact, starting with his head retracting back and snapping to an upward looking position trailing a thin stream of blood chasing his nose. His back buckled and followed his head as he flopped backwards with a loud thud forcing the floor boards to creak and shift around him. The man was clearly done with the fight, and Hayl took this opportunity to pilfer through the man’s pockets. “Thank you kindly sir, for replacing the shirt you mistakenly damaged.” He said when he retrieved a coin satchel, no doubt holding more specie than the value of Hayl’s shirt, and pocketed it. He stood and smiled to any who witnessed trying to dull the sharpened tension in the air. Then a fist caught him on his left jaw, out of nowhere, and sent him flying about three feet to the floor on his face. Hayl felt the fire on his cheek and contemplated if he should play dead or retaliate again. Either way he was seriously regretting wearing a nice shirt tonight.

[Dolce]

Dolce sighed to herself, if this woman didn't know her sister's age... How could she help. She found a seat and sat with a good view of the dartboard and where Scar stood. The best way to learn was to watch or eavesdrop in her opinion. Although she wouldn't admit to the latter method if you asked... Watching Scar's arm move back and forth she wondered if this helped any or if she was getting a feel for it's weight. When the lady did let go the pointy projectile missed what Dolce assumed to be the target, a round board with numbers and colors and sunk into a man's shoulder. While Scar's demeanor didn't change, Dolce found herself mutter a slightly horrified "O-oh..." Then came a warning, “You two might want to go.” It seemed only a tick after this had been said hell let loose in the tavern. Ducking from table to table and finding a Copper or two along her way, she hid under a side turned table only poking out her head to answer Hayl's question, "I believe I just learned how NOT to play darts, sir. That is what just happened." As Hayl went to help, he too was attacked leaving Dolce to try and figure out how to help...She knew a way, but... She sighed she was never going to be allowed back in here... Behind her toppled table fort Dolce produced a key to which her collar fell to the floor and she undressed, carefully folding the collar in her clothes. She hoped the table masked the light her transformation gave off. Once fully feathered, she ducked out from behind her fort with more speed than her human form had used to get under it. A quick assessment of the situation showed Scar to be doing fairly well, where as Hayl... not so much. She'd help him for now... With a quick scurry Dolce stood over Hayl looking out toward whoever was up for taking him out. With wings spread to make her look larger, she stomped the floor with the force she used to shatter her prey's skulls her version of a warning. While the human Dolce was weak and fragile, this one was quite the opposite.

[Scarlet Rose]

The bar erupted with yells and cheers towards the fights that Scar accidently started but the human didn’t look back and instead she pushed her way between patrons and then stopped short when she noticed the three people blocking her exit. “Well this just isn’t my night.” She muttered under her breath. Turning her head to the side she could see her hulking dart man coming up behind her with his ham-like forearms shaking in his rage. She could see the tiny spots of blood coming through his pants where her darts had connected just a chime before. There were two options, face the angry drunk behind her or try and reason her way out of the bar with the men blocking her exit.

Her decision was a bit harder then she thought it would be but luckily a distraction was set when a big big bird of some sort began stomping its feet. The sudden appearance of the animal caught her brute’s eyes and he turned with a daze of confusion to look at the thunderous stomping avian creature. Scar took that moment to close the distance between her and the exit plastering her best version of a sweet smile on her lips. “Hello boys.” The muscles in her back loosened and she seemed to relax the closer she got though she knew the chaos that was going on behind her. “Crazy night, eh?”

The men looked between each other as if deciding their next course of action, perhaps they didn’t expect her to just walk right up to them. Maybe they expected her to fight her way out? She didn’t know but what Scar did know was that there was no way she’d make it out of here with her fists. There were too many people who she figured would join in the fight if it so pleased them, at the very least they’d try to keep it going for some entertainment. Scar bid her time as they decided how they were going to handle her, they didn’t seem all that bright but she didn’t want to underestimate them either. Finally the one on the left spoke up, his voice as smooth as broken gravel “Listen ‘ere Bitch, you made many prollums ‘ere tonight n we can’ just have you runnin round like n upsettin e’ryone with your ways.”

Scar fought every urge she had to roll her eyes at the lack of properly spoken common, yes definitely not bright and if he was the one speaking maybe he was the one the other two looked towards? With this thought process she focused another smile on him “I know I’m terribly sorry about all this.” She waved behind her at the chaos; it was centered around the bird and Hayl though she couldn’t see the male linen merchant. The man she had been confronted with was moving closer to the bird asking it something in confusion and another who was clearly his friend was moving towards the dart man. “I didn’t mean for all of this to happen you see … I was trying to learn how to play darts an-“ she was cut off as the man before her spoke again “No, none of your lies.” Scar’s eyes widened as if she was just offended “I would never lie. I just want to leave and not cause more problems; you can believe me on that.” She nodded and watched the wheels turning slowly in their heads as they tried to figure out if she was just looking to trick them.

A good lie always included part truth, she did really want to leave and she shifted her features into something that she hoped seemed to convey innocence. She did not believe she wouldn’t cause anymore problems since she was good at picking fights but for this evening she was done with that. “Just let me collect my friends and I’ll buy you three an Ale on me tonight.” She watched their expressions slowly as they shifted slowly in their decisions. “Two Ales on me and you keep the angry beasts distracted while I gather the two who belong to me.” Scar waited then, she didn’t speak more because she didn’t want to seem desperate she just watched them whisper to each other to low for her to hear over the noises behind her.

“Two mugs of ale each an' meat!” They concluded all with a nod and Scar frowned before she nodded reluctantly, she didn’t want to give up her money but it was that or do things the hard way. Reaching into her boot she pulled out enough for their mugs of ale and a few chunks of meat before she handed it over. “Now go distract them, I don’t care how you do it just do it so I can find my friends.” Friends was such a loose term, Scar had no friends here in Ravok but there was no need for them to know that. The men took her money and then pushed away from the exit waving their hands and clucking at the gathering crowd to break it up. They began to say something to the two who were in the brawl while Scar turned to look for Hayl and Dolce with an annoyed frown that she had to spend Mizas on them.

Ledger-24 CM Mugs of Ale
-9 CM Chunks of Meat

[Hayl]

The cool lacquered floor actually felt kind of nice against his heated cheek. He tried to keep his saliva in his mouth but his pressed lips formed a natural funnel for the heavy breathing that an unconscious person would do after they had their lights punched out. He could commit to the role for playing possum among the best, but valued cleanliness to not slobber all over the place, so he started to question how much longer he would have to keep the act up. He decided to take his mind off the discomfort and focus on his surroundings via hearing. Maybe the distinct sound of money hitting the floor would happen. He listened long, mostly heard the bustling of feet stomping around. Men cheering and yelling, plates and other dishes being scattered, but more than anything was the wooden planks shifting and moaning with each push and counter push forcing the nails moan as the wriggled in and out of their fittings. Eventually someone stepped on his hand. He couldn’t fight the instinct to open an eye and look at the foot bearing down on his knuckles. What he caught in the glimpse were many people staggering around him. He began to panic, wondering if someone may step on his head. He decided he would have to make his move soon and chose to open his eye slowly to scan the crowd for a path to escape through. But, before he could act he heard a very strange and new sound. The crowd gasped and quieted as they all backed away from where Hayl lie. Something was coming over him and it seemed to scare the Shyke out of a good bit of people. The bold thief put on his best performance of being knocked out as he could. Something heavy was stomping up to wear he was proned out. Each foot-print sounded peculiar, familiar, but he couldn’t quite place his finger on it until the last stomp occurred in front of his face. It had a strange clacking sound, almost like a dog paw, but more substantial. He opened his eye and saw the heal of a three toed taloned foot. His eyes widened, not realizing that whatever façade at possum he had kept to this point was abandoned. The powerful leg stomped and the wooden boards causing them let out a loud shriek. Hayl traced the leg up to its source and saw the feathered nightmare looming over him. The giant feathered beast shrieked monstrously at the audience of gasping onlookers. “Sweet Rhysol’s step-sister!” the brave cut-purse screamed in falsetto. He rolled away and lifted his dagger from his sleeve, nearly dropping it and stabbing himself in the thigh, he pointed the shaking blade at the monster with its back to him. Hayl suffered from Alektorophobia, which is essentially the fear of chickens, or birds similar in appearance. He was attacked by a terrible rooster when he was a young child, and it forced him to have such a robust distain for the beast ever since. Even though the bird in front of him demonstrated every feasible piece of evidence to believe it was actually protecting the thief, Hayl couldn’t think that rationally and just assumed he slipped into some sort of hell and this was the most evil thing that could be conjured for him. The bird’s splayed its feathers causing it to grow and it forced Hayl to become panic-stricken. Just then, a man slapped his hand on Hayl’s left shoulder. “You were the one who I popped earlier, weren’t y-“ his sentence was interrupted when Hayl shot up and elbowed the man in the throat. The man was lucky to not approach Hayl from the right, because he would have dagger plunged into his throat instead. Before Hayl could make a killing blow with this next attack, he received clarity enough to realize that this man who approached him from behind was not another giant devil chicken, but a regular human being. Then a collaboration of emotions jolted through the thief as he became furious with the man for not only striking Hayl earlier but for surprising him in such a vulnerable state. Hayl admired the man’s new bloody state after feeling satisfied with them man’s incapacitation. He continued to look then developed a good conscious out of nowhere and rolled the man on his side, just in case the blood would flow into his breathing canal and block his ability to breath. Of course it would cost the man. Hayl found the satchel tied to the inside of the man’s leg. He took it and stashed it. The man was already doubled over clenching his throat as he tried to force air through it, since Hayl’s elbow slammed it shut. Hayl kicked the man over onto his side, and then kicked him again on his back. He then stomped on the man’s chest and listen to the man breath more regularly after the explosion of air forced through his throat casing it to open again. “I hope you feel better, you under-dock slime resin.”He said then dropped his foot again, this time stomping on the man’s face. He felt the interesting crunching feel of the man’s nose through his boot. The man would remember seeing the bottom of a boot, but would feel nothing after that memory. When he would wake up, that would be a different story. The moment of combat brought fleeting clarity to Hayl and he backed away from the giant devil chicken. He saw a scuffed up Scar, she seemed to be suffering from her own confrontations, though the look of confidence on her face would suggest she didn’t meet any abominations. Hayl shoved his way through the crowd. He was pretty fed up playing the flamboyant tailor. He just wanted to get out of the crowd; the whole floating tavern seemed to be closing in on him. A man grunted at Hayl as he attempted to pass around him not willing to move for the hassled thief. Hayl rebutted the man’s ignorance with a kick to the back of the man’s knee. When the man collapsed he fell to the one stricken knee an grunted an explicative that was interrupted by Hayl hammer fisting the man to the side of his head. When he made it to Scar, he looked into her eyes with a scowl of anger, “I don’t think you should ever play darts again…”

[Dolce]

Seeing as her companions were making an exit Dolce slipped behind the over turned table, returning with clothes in beak she joined them. She made little 'pip' noises to them as to say "I agree, no more darts for scar!" Dolce gave a small flap of her wings, she made sure to distance herself from Hayl before doing so as not to traumatize him anymore."Can we get out of here? I think we should get out of here... Dolce was trying to keep her distance from Hayl as to not give the man anymore reasons for nightmares. It figured, a guy who was terrified of birds mainly ground birds she noted. Once they found a spot for her to change she'd do so, she felt uncomfortable like this. "Rhysol’s step-sister, my tail feathers! Honestly! I'm worth at least 700 gm at the KRI, or I was as a girl... Given my good manners, my ability to read, and the fact I can keep up a conversation... Might be worth 950 gm or somewhere around there!" She grumbled in her Kelvic mind as the two humans of the group discussed things. People passed looking at her, "Don't mind me, just a giant bird here. Nothing strange about that. Keep moving, unless you have a snack for me to eat..."