Dyer's Absalom Beguiled IC

[DrK]

Rufus

Rufus cursed. "Aye, the damned wobbegongs. They were small when I was running on the street, thought they'd be dead and gone by now."

Looking at the pistol he grimaces. "let's head down to the puddles and the doxy. I'll be getting Alice back and if the gangs ain't changed then it's going to get messy. "

[Hella Lugosi]

Roark nods politely at Vicarius's responce, before turning to Rufus. "If you wish to put the Wobbegong down for good, I will be more than happy to join you." After lighting a stick of incense, he makes for the exit, heading to the Doxy.

[DyerMaker]

The Doxy is only second to The Grog Pit as the most infamous watering hole in the Docks. Sailors and deckhands flow in and out for the tavern's home-brewed spiced ale and perhaps one of Absalom's best dishes, Doxy's Fish & Chips. In fact, most will dare eat anything else served from this establishment since you never know who's working the kitchen on a given day.

Entering this open-air establishment just before noon finds the crowd rather slow. Everyone here looks interesting and not. It all depends on one's perspective and the type of information, trouble, or occasion you have in mind. The regulars are here:
Hickory (or Hick or Kate) is tending bar. A female human of average charisma and fierce reputation who earned her nickname for the wooden prosthetic leg she wears. Rumors abound at how she lost the flesh and bone version.
Sasha and Jynx, the infamous servers at The Doxy. These half elves are rumored to be wealthy but work at the Doxy to abuse the clientele. Sasha has a long-fade haircut dyed cherry red and carries an electrum-plated pistol around her neck. She could easily pass for a man if desired. Jynx has long blond hair in five braids and golden flecks in her eyes. She is quite attractive and has a reputation for smashing mugs over the heads of those who cross her. She is also a skilled swashbuckler and can wield a rapier with the best of them.
Brick is the ultimate rule of law in the bar. An Oread of reddish-orange complexion, Brick is typically asleep in his corner booth taking half a day to finish a pint. Yet, the Brawler is unstoppable when spurred to action and can easily separate limb from flesh and break bones with ease. Mostly, he launches troublemakers into the bay like a seasoned warrior hurling a spear.

Jynx gives your group a fun-loving grin; Sit where you will, but don't stand around like dumb-arse pelicans. I'll be right with ya.

[grifter730]

Oberon:

"Probably best if we split up and try to get information through different means," Oberon mutters to his group, and then walks towards the bar, nodding towards the one-legged bartender as he's noticed. He takes a moment to look around the place, tapping his thumb on the bar as he casually takes in his surroundings and awaits for the bartender.

Spoiler: OOC

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When Hickory finally serves him, he'll order a brew that she'll recommend, and then ask her if she's familiar with the Wobbegang.

[DyerMaker]

Oberon looks around at the other patrons, then has a seat at the bar. Hick walks over; Hi. You're new. She then places a pint of spiced ale in front of the monk.

[grifter730]

Oberon:

Oberon takes the spiced ale and gives it a taste. "Not new," he responds to the bartender. "Just been away a while is all. I'm back now though. Used to be that the Wobbegang likes to hang out around these parts. Any idea how a wayward son might get back in touch with them?"

[DyerMaker]

Oberon enjoys the spiced ale after taking a few sips. He remarks to Hick, "Used to be that the Wobbegang likes to hang out around these parts. Any idea how a wayward son might get back in touch with them?" Hick gives Oberon a slant look, serves another customer and while working, mentions; The Wobs? Gangs come and go here. Just yell out, you might get an answer.

Garren walks into the Doxy, noticing Oberon at the bar sipping a spiced ale.

[Hella Lugosi]

It has been a while since Roark has set foot in a tavern, so he doesn't wish to let his lack of local etiquette give him away. He takes a seat in the corner of the room and keeps his head down, doing his best to listen in to nearby conversations.

Spoiler: OoC

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Perception, if there's anyone trying to keep their voice hushed: (1d20+5)[8]

[grifter730]

Oberon:

Oberon pauses in surprise as the bartender replied. Then a smile crossed his face. "Sound advice," he says, before downing the rest of the ale.

He turns around to lean back on the bar, rotating his head to get an idea of what people were doing in general so that he can see if any of them will have a suspicious reaction with what he's about to do. "WOBBEGANG!" Oberon yells. "WOBBLE WOBBLE WOBBLE GANG! If you smell like rotten fish, or your sorry face would only bring a dead fish to bed, you're probably a member. Anyone smell or see anyone like that around? Anyone?"

Spoiler: OOC

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Perception: (1d20+5)[18]

[DrK]

Rufus swaggers into the bar, long coat flapping and hat casually tossed over the back of a spare chair before he collapses into the rickety wooden seat. ""Oh, wench, bring us ale".

Settling he winces at the sudden abuse shouted by Oberon. A muttered "Gods damn, that won't help us.". He looks around staring for trouble drawing his gun as subtlety as possible under the table.

[DyerMaker]

Roark walks in the Doxy a bit unsure of this environ. He takes a set in the corner and hopes to eaves drop on nearby conversations.
Oberon takes Hicks advice, and literally yells out an insult toward any resident member of the Wobbegang.
Rufus shouts for ale and then hears Oberon's loud insult and draws his pistol under the table.

Oberon hears Hick behind him; Um, you best not wreck my bar.
Two half-orcs and a human stand up from a table in the open air section of the Doxy. The human speaks in a squeaky voice; You got 'erself a big mouth, don'tcha?
A chair falls at their table. The Doxy goes mostly silent in anticipation.


Map (same link)

[grifter730]

Oberon:

Looking over his shoulder back at Hicks, Oberon shrugs. "You told me to do this." Just then, he hears the clatter of a chair.

"You got 'erself a big mouth, don'tcha?" A squeaky voice calls to Oberon.

Turning back around to survey his surroundings, Oberon continues to lean back on the bar, tapping his staff a few times on the floor. He inhales a deep breath before smiling seriously. "I heard being ugly and smelly were requirements to join the Wobbegang, didn't realize you had to be of low intellect as well. Also heard they like to kidnap helpless folks. Couldn't bear to pick on people that could fight back, bunch of low life cowards. You milksops ought to have premium membership."

Spoiler: OOC

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Standard action: Ready action to attack the first thing to attack me.

[Hella Lugosi]

In the corner of the tavern, Roark quietly sighs to himself at Oberon's display. However, as the monk draws attention to himself, he prepares himself to take action in the inevitable fray

Spoiler: OoC

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Standard Action: Ready to cast Burning Disarm if one of the thugs draws a lethal weapon and attacks Oberon

[DrK]

Rufus
The gunslinger rises with the others, gun still held low as he readies to pop a shot at any of the Wobbegong scum that try anything. "You are right friend. Wobbegong gang are bottom feeding scum. Only reason no-one else wiped them out was they were too small to be worth caring of. Like a gnat sucking on the cities sour test".

Spoiler: ooc

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Need to rebuild character sheet!
But also ready to shoot any gangsta that draws a weapon and mixed to within 20ft of me (if they are looking hostile)

[Eldest]

Maria quietly steps away from Oberon, putting a hand on the handle of her whip in her satchel. She'd barely used the thing other than for tricks, but it was what she had on her.

[DyerMaker]

Oberon snaps back and readies an action.
Rufus pitches a few insults and also prepares to fire if necessary.
Maria puts a hand on a whip she's rarely had to use.
Roark sighs at the current situation but readies a spell, Burning Disarm.

The squeaky-voiced grabs his ale, taking a sip, he takes a few steps toward Oberon. The half-orcs follow. He squeaks again; 'em 're some salty words for a man with a stick. You an 'ur man-love 'ight prefer to take 'is outside, reckon?

Hick speaks under her breath; Yes, take it outside.

[grifter730]

Oberon:

"Outside, inside, makes no difference to me. One of you will take us to your hideout. The other two will be fortunate to be dead, or otherwise incapacitated with broken bones if unfortunate. By all means, choose the location of your undoing." Oberon motions his hand towards the door as if to say you lead the way. "Perhaps some of these good folks would care to bear witness. It's not everyday you get to see cutthroat scum humbled bloody."

[Athaleon]

Garren tried not to look at Oberon as he pretended to be just another taverngoer staring at the proceedings, and edging away like a man who didn't want any trouble. He didn't know exactly what was going on, but as long as he kept up the bystander act he might get the drop on an opponent if the confrontation broke out into a brawl.

Spoiler

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In case a Bluff check is necessary:
(1d20+11)[23] + (1d6)[2] Inspiration
(using Linguistics -> Bluff via Orator feat)

[DyerMaker]

The group of 3 moves from the open patio and off to the side, awaiting Oberon and Rufus. Patrons of the Doxy and several onlookers are now standing to watch.

[Athaleon]

Garren moved out of the way to join some of the other patrons in awaiting the spectacle of a brawl. What are you up to, Oberon? He doubted his contact was the type to pick a fight so brazenly, and seemingly at random. He clenched his fist in its leather glove, feeling the reassuring cold of the metal studs in the knuckles—he would not go for his sword unless the gangers tried to pull something that warranted it.

Spoiler

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Move to AN,11

[Hella Lugosi]

Roark contemplates staying at his seat and watching the fight unfold, but decides against it. "Damn it." Sighing to himself, he stands and makes his way to the ensuing brawl.

Spoiler: OoC

Show

Move to AN12

[Eldest]

Maria pointedly steps into the crowd, leaning against a wall to watch. This one ain't my fight.

[grifter730]

Oberon:

Oberon moves to follow the thugs out of the Doxy. He scanned the crowds for his companions to see if they were close by to join the seemingly inevitable fight he brought upon them. He was surprised to see his old friend Garren in the bar, but he was glad for the extra backup. Hopefully the man would back him up anyhow.

Deliberately moving slow, Oberon stops several paces away [AO 15] from the human thug, Oberon leans on his staff. "So, which one of you fellows is smart enough to take me to your hideout? First one to agree gets to live."

Spoiler: OOC

Show

He takes his time moving, more than a round, so that he has time to take a ready action when he gets there
Standard: Ready action to attack the first foe to try to attack him.

[DyerMaker]

The squeaky-voiced human takes a step forward; You'n gunna use 'at stick? He draws a flail with a cylindrical spiked head. 'ets go!

[DrK]

Rufus

As the man draws a large flail Rufus moves to fire but there is a wet 'pop' and some acrid black smoke as the ale soaked when did that bloody happen he curses to himself) fails to fire. Not the best start to the fight!

Spoiler: Status

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Init (1d20+4)[8]
Shoot the guy lunging with flail (1d20+6)[7] vs Touch (+5 base, +1 PBS)
Dam (1d8+1)[9] + (1d6)[4] close and deadly

Hp 11/11
AC 17 (flat 13 touch 14)
Saves +3/6/2
Grit 1/2

Edit:Nat 1, not the best start to a fight!

[grifter730]

Oberon:

The sound of a wet 'pop' ignited Oberon into action, shifting several feet to move right in front of the squeaky human, he twirls the staff with rapid succession in an attempt to put the man down as quickly as possible.

Spoiler: OOC

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Attack 1 (flurry): (1d20+5)[6]
Damage 1: (1d6+9)[11]

Attack 2 (flurry): (1d20+5)[18]
Damage 2: (1d6+9)[12]

[DyerMaker]

Round 1:
Rufus begins the skirmish with a misfire of his pistol.
Oberon strikes with a flurry of blows, the second of which connects to the shoulder of the thug.

The thug steps up and swirls his flail toward Oberon in an effort to wound the monk; Attack (1d20+9)[16] Damage (1d8+9)[13].
If the blow lands, the thug stays and taunts; Boy, you 'ike 'at stick dontcha? Whooo!

Maria, Roark, and Garren may act in this round.

The two half-orcs are content to watch for now. One yells out in a gruff voice; Shnook, you best watch him, he looks fast. He then readies himself with a Lucerne hammer.

[Hella Lugosi]

Watching the flail strike his friend hard, Roark springs into action, rage in his eyes. Drawing his scimitar, he casts his free hand towards the thug. "BURN, HERETIC."

Spoiler: OoC

Show

Move Action: Draw Scimitar
Standard Action: Cast Burning Disarm on the thug with the mace

[Athaleon]

"Damnation..." Garren swore under his breath as what he thought would be a simple brawl went straight to a lethal engagement, and his old friend went down in one hit. He drew his rapier and waded into the fray, putting himself between Oberon and the thugs. "Enough, all of you! He's out cold," he called out to all involved, hoping he could calm things down and get Oberon healed.

Spoiler

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Move Action to draw his rapier, and another Move Action to go to AP 15.

I doubt a Diplomacy roll to calm the situation down will work since combat were declared, but just in case: (1d20+11)[26] + (1d6)[5]

[grifter730]

Oberon:

The adrenaline rushed through Oberon as he explodes into motion. Too eager. The first strike missed, his bo swinging wide, but he recovered on the follow-through. He let out a taunting bark. "Hah! I warned y--"