"Lead on." I fall in behind the others and try not to show too much disinterest. "This place is quite the maze of doors and hallways."
Isegrim surreptitiously looks towards the vault to see if it looks like there's a keyhole large enough to fit Saul's hand. This question has really intrigued him, especially as he has drunk a few more and as the heady rush of his pipeweed has settled over him.
Lia tries to blend in during the tour and not look bored. She much prefers to snoop about at her own pace. She was intrigued by the magic wand and picked it up on the way out of Saul's room. As the party follows him around on his tour, she entertains herself my playing with it.
Lia tries to blend in during the tour and not look bored. She much prefers to snoop about at her own pace. She was intrigued by the magic wand and picked it up on the way out of Saul's room. As the party follows him around on his tour, she entertains herself my playing with it.
Whoa chick, warn a body when you're going to start shakin those things around. I take a step back to see if she burns her eyebrows off.
Lia's covert attempt with the wand succeeds. As Saul leads the group down the stairs to the Goblin's cellars, the diminutive half-elf flicks the wand casually and is startled when her hands suddenly charge with electrical energy. The wand casts shocking grasp and the remaining charge is good for 8 more castings. In the meantime, Lia's hands crackle with arcane energy causing them to pop and itch.
The stairs end in a red carpeted room with a second bar. The room is dark and lifeless until Saul lights a couple of the lamps.
"This was called the Red Room under previous management, and it was a somewhat notorious place. Just down the hall, as you'll see in a minute is the 'Octahedron', where everything from prize-fights, to gladitorial combats, to personal duels were fought on a routine basis. Bets were placed and drinks were served here."
"We haven't used this place yet, though we did take the trouble of renovating it a bit. And I have hired a gamesman named Bojask to run whatever activities we do stage in the Octahedron."
He leads you down the hall and around a corner, where you are brought up to a dead end. Saul presses a pivot stone to reveal a lock and handle. He fishes out a key and unlocks the door, which swings open to reveal a room with benches descending to a rail that looks down on a fighting pit some 10 feet below. As you might expect, the pit is shaped like an octagon, with a porticullis on each of the eight walls.
He completes the tour by showing you a second secret door leading to a store room and Bojask's room. Another stair leads down to the tunnels that feed into the Octahedron.
As he leads you back upstairs by a staircase that comes up in the vicinity of the kitchens, he continues.
"All these chambers represent a problem and an opportunity. Obviously the opportunity is for increased revenues. The only thing sailors love more than drinking ashore is cutting each other up over trifling offenses. The Octahedron was once the most notorious dueling ground in Riddleport. This evening alone I heard three inquiries about the old Octahedron and its availability."
"The problem is that Clegg Zincher runs the gaming in this town. Opening this gambling hall was already a stick in his eye. Further encroaching on his turf by hosting combats here will undoubtedly provoke him, though after tonight I'm wondering if that is inevitable anyway."
Lia jumps when her hands charge with energy. "What the..." She trails off as she hops up and down, shaking her hands. "What to do, what to do?" She desparately looks around for some place to put her hands. Only me, she thinks to herself as she bends down in frustration and places her hands on the floor.
"Are your hands glowing? What in the..." Brenin shakes his head.
Trystan looks down at Lia with concern. He holds one hand towards her and the other towards Isegrim.
"Maybe we can dilute the effect if we share the charge?" he shouts. "Take her other hand Bigs".
It's a nice thought, but there's really no need. The charge is lost to ground as soon as she willfully touches something. The floor in this case.
Saul eyes Lia doubtfully. "You haven't been trying to keep up with this big feller have you?" he asks with a meaningful glance at the booze and a nod toward Isegrim.
Trystan laughs long and hard at Lia as she gets back up. He grabs the nearby bottle and throws a hearty splash in his glass and anyone elses.
"Very, very impressive Saul. There is much to discuss. Security, gambling, improving inventory, what staff you feel is indispensable. What say we work with 'em tomorrow night to get a feel for the place. If we cut anyone we'll do it late and toss 'em a few coins severance, then get the rest roaring drunk and boost morale."
"To new adventure!" he hoists his glass to the group, downs it and fills it again.
He leans over to Saul, "Undoubtedly your competition has plants here already. We guess right tomorrow night and they'll run straight home to tell."
Isegrim looks at Trystan like he's a little bit crazy when he suggests a voluntary shock and when Lia dissipates it into the ground Isegrim is visibly relieved. "I don't even like getting a shock after walking across a carpet," and when Trystan looks at him incredulously, "what?!...it hurts!" and he finishes with a hiccup.
"Lia, do watch out with your little lightning rod from now on, ok?"
Isegrim taps his pipe on his bootheel over a trash bin to empty it and replaces it in its case. He's still thinking about the Octahedron, and is ashamed at the thrill he felt when he found out what it was for. There's a primal part of him that would revel in the bloodshed.. the proof that he was the strongest.. and it terrifies him.
I agree Saul, I would bet money that Clegg and his henchmen are already making decisions on how to deal with "us". We should probably be worried but right this second I can't seem to be bothered about that. Hey Trystan, pour me another would you. Lia girl you and I are going to get along good. Electric hands HAH! Maybe you should have grabbed one of the guys arses. I bet that would have boosted moral.
You settle back in the waiting room upstairs. The seats are fairly comfortable, as is the fire by now. Larur retires after another drink leaving the group with the grinning Mr. Vancaskerkin. Conversation dwells on the finer details of contacts and whiskey, house percentages and the qualities of a good dealer. Throughout Saul comes off as an honest face, genuinely relieved to have such capable backup.
I think Lia is particularly suited to running tables. She could also do the catwalk thing, but I'm unlucky when it comes to heights...
Lia is a rapier and dagger in the back kind of girl, so she'd be on the floor somewhere, ready to flank.
I'm a bit squeamish about the whole thing, but I'm sure Lia's has seen enough to understand the baser urges. I'm sure she'd be okay with it if there were clear cut rules.
She can't wait to move in.
Trystan: Diplomacy 6, Sense Motive 7, Innkeeper 7, Local Knowledge 6, Heal 7
He plans on being near the crowd. Keeping the bars stocked, meeting people, shaking hands, sizing them up (patrons and staff), asking questions and attempting to de-escalate situations before they turn into expensive brawls. It appears the main bar is tucked back in the North end of the map. He would check it often but doesn't want to be in BFE if something started to happen. Are there satellite bars in the main area?
Trystan will attempt to negotiate better deals with the booze merchants and start relationships with some new ones. His time at the Publician's House might help with that. Once he levels, he plans on distilling his first batch of single malt whiskey here.
We need a set of eagle eyes to at least make rounds up top. Highest perception? Luke, is its main purpose to survey the bar or to watch for cheating?
I think we need Brenin and Isegrim on the main level to respond quickly and to intimidate(unless we open the octahedron).
Every entrance/exit that we don't keep locked needs an employee Saul trusts on it during business hours. I will be happy to check on the main floor doors as part of my rounds. No corner of the building should go unobserved for longer than 5-10 minutes at a stretch.
Bigger issue, do we want to be proactive about the competition? If so we need consider sending our sneakiest sneakers out to shadow any staff members we suspicion. Tomorrow night might be a great time for that. Who wants to disappear from the party and tail someone?
Trystan is going to hold off moving in for now (don't sh*t where you eat), but he will start bringing his crossbow to work and keeping it loaded behind one of the bars (I'll declare where when I know more about the layout).
If we open the octahedron there is no subtle way to do it, so I say we throw a "Riddleport's Toughest Man" tournament right out of the gate. He would not approve of death-sports I should note, more the fisticuffs variety.
Should all be purple, found a bug in the ooc tool..
I'm open to suggestions as to where I might be most useful, mingling with the crowd, behind a card table or doing the hostess thing seems to fit my personality. Staying out of the main fighting would be better for my health and let me do my witch thing more effectivley.
Also, I'm with Trystan on the fighting, I think we already pissed off Clegg so we should live it up. The tournament sounds like a great way to shake this place up. I would be up for Ring girl so if my witch powers are needed to help control things I would be right there.
Bunking here sounds great for now.
While the others are sorting themselves out, Lia manages to get Trystan alone.
Lia was in the corner, hidden in plain sight, like she always was. It seems everyone always forgot she was there. Especially now. All the women were running to and fro; looking busy but not accomplishing much. It was clear to Lia that something as ‘natural’ as childbirth, was actually anything but. Although, she would be the first to admit she hadn’t been witness to that many. In truth, she’d only been to one other beside this one, and she supposed hers didn’t count. She was extremely interested in the outcome of this particular birth, however, since it would yield a brother or a sister for her.
As the ladies continued to murmur reassurances to her mother while she labored, Lia contemplated the relative attributes of the different sexes. She supposed in the end, it didn’t matter much what she wanted. It always seemed to her that these things were decided by others. If she had her choice, she was unsure as to what she would choose. A baby sister would be nice, because in all likelihood a sister would get to stay. Lia might even be able to help care for her, and eventually, when the sister became big enough, she would have a playmate and even a friend. The thought of a friend made her blood rush. In all of her years she had never had one of those before. As for little boys, Lia didn’t have much experience with those. Men, yes; boys, no. As she considered this, she decided that boys must grow up into men. With that said, there were all kinds of men, and since she wasn’t sure what kind her brother would turn into, she would stick to hoping for a girl.
The baby, it seemed to Lia, was taking its time in getting here. She waited patiently and quietly, for what seemed like hours to her. Her mother seemed to forget who and where she was. The ladies of the house took turns, between their work, sitting with her, trying to get her to labor quietly. They had been moved to a room in the back by the kitchen, but the walls of this place were thin, and while it wasn’t unusual to hear moans and groans through them, screams and curses were another matter all together. During a lull in the excitement, Lia crept close to her mother’s bed. Sweat glistened on her mother’s skin and the bedclothes were twisted around her. She offered whispered prayers to the goddess during this respite. As she heard Lia come close, she said, “Lia, my love, is that you?”
“Yes, Shahara,” Lia answered. ‘Mother’ was not allowed in this place.
“Are you excited?” Shahara asked. “The time is coming nearer. I hope the baby is healthy like you, but I want it to look like its father.” This was something Lia had been told often in the months leading up to this event. She understood it was important to her mother that the baby resembled the father. She supposed it was because he was handsome, but maybe not. At six, Lia was well aware of what went on between a man and a woman in these rooms, but she also knew there were things that you couldn’t see that were just as important.
“Yes, Shahara,” Lia answered again. She knew her mother wasn’t really paying attention. She seemed lost in her own thoughts. Shahara made a small frown and said, “It would be lovely if we could all live together like a family should. I would like that very much. My son shall be named Trystan, after his father, for I know in my heart that it is his son inside me now, struggling to get out.” Again, this wasn’t news to Lia. She knew her mother loved this man, Donbard Trystan Glenfauran, unlike her own father. She also knew that this love was forbidden, as was this second pregnancy. All the emotions and arguments surrounding this man and her mother’s ever swelling body sent a spike of fear through Lia. She tried to avoid overhearing and being involved in all that grown-up talk. She quietly moved back into the safety of her corner to wait.
Lia waited through the afternoon and well into the evening. She was drifting in and out, exhausted from the wait, when Niala came to find her. “How is she, little one?” Niala whispered. “It’s been a long, hard day for her,” she went on without waiting for a reply. “You, however, need to get to work. I’ve been sent to remind you of your duties here. Baby or no baby, you’re needed in the main room.” Lia heaved a heavy sigh, knowing that protesting would get her nowhere. “I’ll come,” she replied, “but can I come see the baby when it comes? Please?” She turned her big brown eyes on the woman that worked so hard to keep this place clean and inviting. Though young, Lia had watched for years as the women of the house plied their charm, and she was well-versed in its usefulness. It didn’t fail her this time, as Niala replied, “I suppose. But get to work and keep your ears open. And no getting caught with your hand in a pocket this time!” The last said with a smile smirking around Niala’s mouth.
Lia spent the rest of her evening hovering in the main room, waiting for opportunity to knock. It was a slow night for news, but she relieved several clients of their pocket change, with no one being the wiser. She came upon a lovely ring, but knew she would need permission to take this and didn’t feel like the hassle this night. She hung around the main room, half-heartedly watching the women ply their wiles on the men that entered. She hoped she wouldn’t see her father this night; that would ruin everything. As she was thinking this, Lia caught Niala’s eye from the doorway. She scampered up and away, much to the surprise of the two gentlemen that had been discussing business in the chairs she had been hiding behind. She ran to Niala and grabbed her hand. “Is it time? Is it here yet?” she hurled the questions at her escort as they went rapidly down the hall.
“Calm yourself, child, you’ll do no good all riled up like that,” Niala chided. “The baby is only moments from being here. If you are able to be still and quiet, you may come watch.” Still and silent were the things Lia was most good at. She entered her mother’s room eagerly.
It wasn’t but a few minutes later and she saw the miracle of birth. She was afraid for her mother, only to have her fears allayed by Niala. “It is the way of nature, my little one. Do not be afraid. It is all over and your mother and the baby are safe.” As Lia learned a few days later, hushed reassurances to children in the night are often just pretty lies. But for now, she had a mother and a new baby brother to love and dream about.
How can you help the business? Saul will certainly have an opinion as well for each of you. From dealing cards, to running the bar, to walking the catwalks, etc.
Isegrim chuckles at the idea of him doing anything other than security. As has been his style at the Publican's House, Isegrim hopes to keep problems at a minimum through his armed presence and guarantee that infractions won't go unnoticed or unpunished.
If trouble erupted in the casino and your character was perfectly placed at the time, where would he/she be?
Isegrim will most likely stake the territory at the front door as his own. Problems can be avoided by keeping out the right people.. and if they aren't avoided then he'll be positioned to make sure the guilty parties are kept in to face their justice.
No matter how much it has been scrubbed, though, he'll always see clearly the massive blood stain at the entrance left when he took the life of the woman thief. He's still struggling with that, and likely will for some time.
What's your opinion of running fights below? Maximize the goblin's profits and risk rising tensions with a local crime-boss, or lay low and try to make a profit selling drinks and running the floor?
Isegrim is completely on the fence when it comes to that decision. If the fights are run, he'll handle anything that comes along with that decision. And if they aren't, well, that's ok too.
Where does your character sleep and keep his/her possessions? There's nothing that says it needs to be here at the Gold Goblin, but it certainly could be.
Despite having an official employer now, Isegrim's loyalty remains to Trystan. And, especially given the potential negative attention that might be drawn, Isegrim will be staying within sword's length of Trystan...wherever that might be.
Other than a bedroll and blankets, Isegrim carries his possessions with him at all times.
In response to something Saul said, and Trystan's mention of needing to form relationships with local suppliers, Isegrim says, "I see it this way.. if the Goblin is going to be a major player then we can't afford to be taken advantage of. Very few things piss me off more.
"Saul, have you already paid Captain Tosk on the Foamrunner for the Firewhiskey? When people make promises they should keep them, and when it comes to promises made to the Goblin they should WANT..even NEED... to keep them.
"What if things hadn't been cut short tonight? About now you'd be dealing with irate customers trying to buy whiskey you didn't have. I wonder what the chances are that the bosses are already messing with you and either commandeered the shipment or persuaded Tosk not to do business with the Goblin.
"Damnit, hanging around Trystan has gone and made me talkative."
Off in the corner of the room talking to Lia, Trystan tilts back his head and releases a mighty yawp to the rafters. He grabs Lia's face in cupped hands and lays a big smackaroo on her. He does so again on her cheeks and her forehead. He picks her up in a fierce bear hug and spins her round and round the room, paying absolutely no consideration to her shy ways. His shouts turn to unbridled laughter as he sets her on the edge of the table in one swift motion and leaps up on top. He kick dances from one end to the other with surprising drunken grace. He punts a stray mug towards the fireplace, it misses and shatters on the wall by Isegrim (drawing a puzzled glare). He kicks another that glances off the back of a chair and nearly hits Rees. His third is dead center and the fire flashes in response. As he brings his kicking foot down, it snags the top of a pitcher and he crashes to the floor in a heap, still chortling. He flips the back of his jacket up off his head and looks up at her as if to say "sorry" when he realizes the whole room is staring at him, mouths agape.
Red faced, head still resting on the floor he thrusts out his right hand at them, thumb pointing to silver band of no apparent worth or significance.
"She found my ring!!"
Intimidate +4; Perception +6; Knowledge(dungeoneering) +4
Intimidate +4; Perception +6; Knowledge(dungeoneering) +4
Alchemy+8; bluff+6; knowledge arcana+8; spellcraft+8; stealth+6; use magic device +6; intimidate+5
Thats everything 5 or above for me
Saul thinks Lia is perfectly suited to do just as she suggests. She's free to run any game on the floor. Her added vigilance on the floor should help prevent trouble before it starts.
Likewise with Brenin. Roving authority would be good to have in the place. There's no real system for sending messages from the catwalks to the floor guards, so establishing rounds that included checking in with guards at doors and windows, a check in with the catwalks guard, and a patrol of the floor would serve very nicely.
Trystan, the only two bars are the one in the Goblin's Tankard, and the Red Room. There are no satellites or anything. The place is large, but not so large that the single bar upstairs cannot serve. Judging from the crowd tonight, most tavern business is carried by waitress out to patrons on the floor. On a tournament night there's a greater chance of actual tavern patrons as folks are kicked out of the tourney but still have gold to spend. On most nights, you can expect that by the time patrons leave the gaming floor, they are broke.
Saul is in complete agreement with Isegrim on the need for strong muscle at the front doors. Really the only other door to the place is the back door. Then there are some ground-floor windows to cover with guards as well if the place is on high alert. Any attack and escape will most logically focus on the front door.
Rees, Saul wonders if you might like to try your hand at running the Ghoulette table. The head seems to dote on you a little, and your exotic good looks can only add to the mystique of the game.
Saul lights up a hand-rolled cigarette and sits considering for awhile on the subject of fighting.
"I'm very certain that if we allow the arena to be used for settling grievances, it will be a blood-grounds again before we know it. The games themselves wouldn't add that much to the house's revenues, but the increased drink sales and incidental gambling that would come with the larger... and admittedly rowdier crowd..."
He sits in a dark corner with a cloud of smoke around his head, pondering for a moment.
"I think we'll get back out there tomorrow afternoon - open the game floor again even if we are short of hands. Show the town that one little attempted heist is not enough to drive the goblin's new management into hiding. But hold off on the fighting until we get back onto our feet financially. Once the money's flowing and we are able to beef up the staff, then we can contemplate expanding the business."
"In the meantime, Bojask can help with security and start putting together the rules for this fighting tournament. I like the way you folks think. Open up the new line with a bang... but let's see how hard we've tweaked Clegg's nose before going further."
"On the subject of boarding, We can open up the second staff quarters for the ladies if that will serve. Some of the hostesses might want to move stuff into these quarters as well rather than risking the streets at the end of their shifts."
"Alternatively, we could open a couple of the guest suites downstairs. Brenin, you are free to take one of the downstairs rooms or bunk with Hans and Beyar. The guest suites will only be an issue if bookings become more common."
The catwalks only overlook the gaming floor. They're primarily their for spotting cheaters and for monitoring suspicious or worrisome patrons.
With regard to the Foamrunner, Saul answers Isegrim that no money has changed hands yet, but that certainly they mutually agreed on terms. But Saul has heard nothing of the ship or the promised shipment this past fortnight. It could be that the ship foundered or was taken up for smuggling.
"Which brings us to one of the biggest problems we have right now, which is a lack of a street presence. Larur does what he can in this regard, but he's only one man. Clegg controls the street by-and-large. If he takes an overt hand against us, twisting arms and whatnot, things will get very difficult for us."
"I'll be fine with Hans and Beyar. We should start making some regular rounds around town. It's going to take a little show of force to convince the Foamrunners of this town that it's safe and profitable to do business with us. Lastly, we need to organize all of the staff into a meeting an hour or so before opening and lay out the night's routine. Walk it through once or twice so everyone knows what to do in case of a problem."
I'm good with running the ghoulette table, me and the head shall do well together I believe.
Bunking downstairs sounds good and safe to me.
So, I'm moving in and I'm running a table. Sounds good to me.
When Lia finds some of the members gathered without Saul around she voices a suspicion, "Has anyone thought that maybe Saul was behind the 'stick-up'? It seems there was no intent to seriously harm anyone and it has surely raised a level of interest in the Goblin. Just a thought."
"Has anyone thought that maybe Saul was behind the 'stick-up'? It seems there was no intent to seriously harm anyone and it has surely raised a level of interest in the Goblin. Just a thought."
"I have had that same thought and I don't think Saul has dealt us his true hand yet but I haven't sensed any subterfuge on his part so far."
Trystan will keep his loaded crossbow behind the main bar (no #'s on map to give you coordinates), he can cover most of the first level from that opening. He will make sweeps of the main floor every five minutes using the bar as his anchor point. He will wait in the main room each time until he sees Brenin returning from his sweep of the upstairs. If we have them to spare, we'll put a man on every extra window and door in the place.
So the party breaks up very late indeed. The ladies are given keys to rooms downstairs. Brenin crashes in the staff room where Hans and Beyar already snore soundly. Trystan and Isegrim find their own beds eventually.
The next morning is mostly a thing of hearsay and conjecture.
By mid day you're allowed to be upright and functional. The kitchen staff, the front desk, and some ladies for cleaning are active in the goblin during these hours. Larur comes in sometime in the mid-morning to look over the floor and supervise the morning accounting.
Saul walks Rees through the finer points of the ghoulette game. The house margin is not great on this game, but it's exotic and popular and draws part of the crowd in by itself.
Hans and Beyar post placards in various places around town advertising the Goblin. Some of yesterday's have been torn down. They report getting some glares from street toughs they term 'cows' - men certain to be loyal to Zincher. Their attempts at recruitment along the waterfront are met most often by stony stares and mutterings. They bring in two hands recently turned ashore by their pirate captain for some offense they refuse to name. Saul shakes his head sadly as he dismisses them.
The Goblin opens its doors for business at 4 in the afternoon. Any spell changes or actions you want to take before I go on?
Trystan goes to the Publician's House to have lunch and tell his brothers the news. They are disappointed to lose him but the door to return someday seems open.
He heads to the Goblin afterward hoping to get a chance to talk to Lia before the employees start piling in. He places his loaded crossbow behind the main bar.
No sign of Lia until just prior to opening.
A small crowd trickles in during the first few hours of business. They're mostly sailors and stevedores with a few odd coin in their pockets, not players. They throw away their money to take turns gawking at Rees while the other tables stand idle.
That starts to change when the sun goes down and word gets out that the casino actually did survive its opening night bath, both in blood and red ink.
Isegrim turns the cold eye of experience towards the growing crowd, looking for anyone who seems like they might feel like starting something so that he might end it.
Step right up boys, see if you can beat the odds.
Lia and Trystan tear it up at their respective tables. Lia's dealing is flawless and fair and not far into the evening she has a pair of genuine gamblers at her table. They must know each other, because they mumble at each other across the table as they play.
"Vesicant picked up any stagglers lately, mate?"
A negative grunt. A tick at the mouth and a busted hand.
"Just the one what's payin for tonight, right?" grins the first. Third winning hand in a row and a broad grin as the markers join his already substantial stacks.
"We'm in irons 26 days looking for the first of the trades. Not even steerage. Sweeps and the lash, and nothing to show for it. Not a damned thing movin on the sea."
Both men win, then try to out-do each other in tips to Lia.
"Yeah, part of this," waves at his winnings, "is going into the fish bowl."
"Right after the knockin-house fee?"
A sharp glance at Lia. Disappointment in his companion, and another chip flipped her way as the first gathers his winnings and leaves for the cashier.
"Ya, that'll be the balance."
Trystan is an instant success behind the bar and is swimming in tips throughout. The tables fill up with sailors pretty early on and stay busy throughout. The kitchen is something of a disappointment as things come out consistently burnt, but Trystan's able to move liquor fast enough to cover for it.
"Nawp. Ain't right. Them ten silvers'd have us set up right now, wouldn' they?"
"They owe us. That's what it is. They just rewarded the slow and gutless, is all."
The speaker, obviously angry but not making much sense bounces a copper chip off his dealer's chest and says, "What's that about then, eh? Saul goes and awards the slow and the gutless, and leaves those what dash at opportunity out in the cold."
A third one leans in and slurs. "Yep. We'll have them tournament fees back just like them others got."
Lia smiles at the remaining 'gentleman' in front of her. She's not sure if she should comment on a conversation that she wasn't truly intended to hear, so she just keeps dealing and files this info away.
Isegrim walks straight-away to a nearby table of four inebriated patrons. Leaning down to their level he says in a low but strong voice, "I think you all best be moving along. There's a new way of doing things at the Goblin and it don't involve whatever it is you four are up to. You can go easy or you can go hard, but either way...you're going."
One of the sailors raises his hands at the sight of the huge warrior and takes a step back.
'Alright cap. A man can tell when he's overmatched. Let's just move along then boys.'
Initiative
Isegrim sees the punch coming and beats his assailant to it.
"You should have listened to him friend, now it's gonna hurt."