Isegrim looks back and forth between Lia and Trystan in consternation.
Oblivious due to his confusion at the exchange between Trystan and Lia, the double entendre sails right over Isegrim's head.
"Oh, um, well it's right here," and as the rest of the table turns towards him expecting to be shocked he reaches over his shoulder and pats the hilt of his greatsword.
The grip is wrapped in simple black leather and its pommel is fashioned into the likeness of a raven, with two small black opals for eyes.
Rees on the other hand profits handsomely by the insult hurled at Brenin, collecting 2 silver for her trouble.
Lia's dookie charm will not rub off. She loses another 2 silver. Trystan is now the hot hand gaining 3 silver in just a couple of rolls. A very attractive blonde patron winks a big brown eye at Trystan as he rakes in his latest win. She reaches into her hand-purse and lays two silver tokens on the felt for her next bet.
The crowd slowly begins to thin as reckless gamblers lose their remaining chips. Losers are encouraged to stay and drink, but many had to save their pennies to afford the entry fee. Most of those who lose stagger out into the river-misted streets headed for their homes. The crowd that is left is either the luckiest of the heavy betters (and these are the current badge leaders) or the patient, opportunistic better. One bounder and one golem table is closed to keep the tables full of players.
The skiffs tables are practically a tournament unto themselves. The initial large crowd at that game is whittled down to a core of good players. Before long it will be decided, and the champion of that game will have to turn to something that others are willing to play them at. These things always boil down to cards and dice...
The blond is a perfectly timed distraction. He asks her to blow on the dice for him and dials up his well rehearsed charm.
So, whats a young stud like you doing at this circus? You don't strike me as the gambling type.
Despite the more aggressive betting, Lia still fails to make any headway toward a badge. Your chip pile remains essentially unchanged.
Trystan gains another three silvers, as does the blonde - betting on his rolls.
"Hello dear, my name is Trystan. What brings you and those chestnut eyes of yours to this nest of snakes tonight? Surely more than the chance to win a few coins?"
He bets three silver again as his interest in the tournament fades.
Diplomacy
Perception
Will Save
Gambling
Sensing Trystan's change in mood, Isegrim looks down at Lia and earnestly says, "Aye, when I'm not at his side I'm at his back. And he does the same for me. It's called friendship, m'lady," he finishes with a tight smile.
His eyes follow his friend as he moves to the attractive blonde and takes up her hand.
Perception
Will
His expression softening, Isegrim pauses with consideration then says,"Well, that just won't stand. I don't know what's going on between you and Trystan, but assuming you wish him no ill will I don't see why we can't be friends." And with that, Isegrim pointedly takes a step to her side.
With Brenin I think to myself I made a good decision by intervening between him and my mom. No doubt he will think he could have handled my mom and wouldn't welcome my interference. I'm getting a good vibe from him (could be my hormones) and feel better about breakin the family ties so to say.
Standing tall in a room where so many others are seated or leaning has its advantages. Isegrim spots a terrible indiscretion - a man in the privy just off the game floor apparently unaware that the door is open, reading a piece of paper of all things. The fighter's brain takes an extra minute to digest the scene before he realizes that the man is reading a scroll... casting a spell.
A woman near the door screams and points and some necks around the bar crane to see the disturbance. Lia and Brenin turn around in time to see the spell complete. Suddenly a brazier in the middle of the room explodes in a flash of blinding white light. Lia is unfortunately looking directly at the brazier when the flash occurs, burning her tender half-elven eyes.
Of the others, Rees and Trystan save versus blindness but are caught by surprise by the flash and may not act in the surprise round. Isegrim and Brenin close their eyes in time to avoid the flash and are not surprised.
Initiative
Initiative
Isegrim bellows, "Tryst-, trouble!"
Four men and a woman stand up and draw weapons as the flash washes through the room, blinding almost everybody. All of them bear the appearance of sailors or pirates. The men are waiving cutlasses around while the woman brandishes an exotic pistol firearm. They move toward the podium and the large chest.
The one guard standing by is too busy rubbing the giant blue spots out of his eyes to do anything about the men.
The woman calls out, "Everyone get on the deck and no one gets hurt!"
Brenin, bearing in mind that every square of the gamefloor is difficult terrain and that this is a surprise round, meaning you only have one standard action to give, it is your move.
Assuming the one at 11,20 is a thug, I'll move to 11,21 and draw my longsword.
"You want my money, then you should have tried your hand at gambling. Now let's try a little of your blood on my sword."
Isegrim says to Lia, "get under the table. You'll be safe..I swear it," and then to Trystan, "shake it off, Tryst...you have worse headaches every morning!"
With that Isegrim draws his sword and moves ten feet to the right (passing in front of Lia) then slants into (12,13) whilst preparing to bring his greatsword to bear in a power attack on the brigand in (11,14)
The room is total chaos. Better than half the casino does exactly as the woman commands and dives for the floor. This has the effect of clearing line of sight but hampering movement. Blinded and drunken gamblers sprawl into the aisles and under the tables.
Many others are just as blind but lack the good sense to get out of harm's way. These remain standing and groping. Certainly some few retain their sight, but none make obvious motions to help you.
As the thugs overwhelm the blinded guard the woman crests the steps of the podium. Seeing Brenin alert and on the move she points the pistol at him and calls, "Sit down like a good boy and I promise not to put a hole in you!" She gestures with her off hand and casts a spell.
The man from the lavatory pushes through the ducking crowd toward the podium clutching a piece of parchment to his chest.
The criminal facing Isegrim is an older sort and is visibly intimidated by the fighter's size. He looks disinclined to fight but as Isegrim closes the distance the steel springs back into his eyes and he raises his sword to attack. Behind the guard, the imp in the cage laughs hysterically.
Isegrim, as you engage the thug, you can't shake the notion that the nasty little imp in the cage compelled the old man to fight.
Brenin feels the woman's magic wash over him but suffers no ill effects from the enchantment. The perception check yields no additional information.
Oh, I so didn't see this coming. These idiots always have to ruin a good thing. I step back (13,24) and cast mage armor on myself. Why am I never prepared.
"The caged devil is helping them. He's got these weak-minded fools under a spell!"
"Nice try b!tch! When I get done with your boy toy here I'm coming up there for you."
"Fight more, talk less" shouts Trystan towards Isegrim as he moves to square 9,14 and casts Bless on anyone in 50' acting against the would be thieves.
"Aaghh! Hell's bells and the devil's prick!" Lia screams. She claps her hands to her eyes as she slides down under the table to protect herself during the chaos. She slips a hand down to feel for her dagger as she desperately blinks her eyes in a vain attempt to restore her vision.
Isegrim hears Trystan's shout and his lips curl into a small grin. Even with his bulky frame, he steps smoothly into (12,14) and swings his greatsword in an attack at the old thief.
A spark of regret creeps in but is quickly overwhelmed by survival instinct and the knowledge that this man is a threat to his friends and everyone else.
Attack roll + Bless
Damage
The mage slips through Brenin's attack with a combination of agility and magical wardings that deflect the warrior's blade. He veers away from the ranger, heading for the front of the podium instead.
Isegrim's blade opens a grave wound in the man's side, taking all the fight out of this petty criminal. He drops his weapon and goes to ground clutching the wound.
"Where you running off to in such a hurry?"
"That's going to leave a mark."
The bottom of the cage is about eight feet from the top of the stage, which is itself about three feet above the game floor.
Brenin's strike certainly does catch the mage hard enough to penetrate the defensive dweomers and touch skin, but the severity of the wound is unclear as he continues on to the stage. When he gets there, he reads something from the scroll and reaches out to touch the chest. The great big chain-bound chest filled with everyone's stake is transformed into a little thing the size of a child's toy. This is scooped up by the woman, who then vaults off the podium and towards the casino doors. She points the pistol at the guards barring the door and they dive to either side.
Any thought Brenin may have entertained of pursuing the mage or the woman is dashed as thugs attack from both sides at once. The one behind him jabs his sword through the ranger's armor and opens a gash in his side. "Lay down swabbie. No need to die over a couple a silver coins."
.
Another of the men engages Isegrim in an exchange of parries.
Owwwww. That looks like it hurts. I came here to save his life, not watch him die. I could have done this at home.
Take that you Grog-blossom.
"Sorry pal, all night I've been losing my money and getting insulted, now someone gets to pay."
It's as simple as point and shoot. The malignant ray springs from Rees's finger and strikes home on the side of the ruffian's head. His half elven ears droop a bit as he presses his attack.
Brenin's blade slips past the man's guantleted guard and plunges into his gut. He cries out his death and slides off the ranger's blade. Flanked no more.