SepticGentleman

BAR FIGHT - WITNESS ME

WELL-GROOMED MAN IN SUIT STRUTS THROUGH THE COMMOTION. ORC BARBARIAN ATTEMPTS TO PILE DRIVE HIM, SUIT DELIVERS A SWIFT KICK TO THE ORC’S GUT, GRABS HIS FOOT, AND FLIPS HIM OVER. HE WORKS HIS WAY THROUGH THE CROWD UNTIL HE FINDS THE BLOODIED BARTENDER BEATING THE SNOT OUT OF A TROLL WITH HER OWN SEVERED HORN.

“SIMON, WHAT THE FUCK?” THE SUIT CALLS OUT. THE BARTENDER, NAME REVEALED TO BE SIMON (TRULY A BITCH MONIKER) TURNS HIS BARE HEAD AND DROPS THE TROLL ON THE FLOOR, AND THEN KICKS HER INTO THE NEAREST WALL.

“WHAT?” SIMON REPLIES, ARMS STRETCHED OUT IN A MOCKING FASHION.

“I’M PAYING YOU TO RUN A BAR, NOT A FIGHT CLUB, YOU FUCKING CHROME DOME.” THE SUIT SAYS ANGRILY.

“WELL FUCK YOU, GUY.” SIMON SHOUTS BACK, POINTING.

THAT DID IT. SUIT CLENCHED HIS FISTS AND BEGAN MAKING HIS WAY TOWARDS SIMON, WHO RAISED HIS FISTS IN PREPARATION FOR A RIGHT TUSSLE. UN/FORTUNATELY, SUIT WAS PROMPTLY GRABBED BY THE TALONS OF A CRAZED HARPY, AND WHISKED UP INTO THE OPEN SPACE ABOVE THE BRAWLING PATRONS. THERE WAS A SURPRISING AMOUNT OF HEIGHT TO THE ESTABLISHMENT’S INTERIOR TO ALLOW FOR SUCH A FEAT.

“THIS ISN’T OVER, SIMON!” THE SUIT CALLS OUT, SHAKING HIS FIST MADLY. SIMON TURNS HIS HEAD TOWARDS A TROOP OF WELL-ARMORED SPACE-FARING TROOPERS, NO DOUBT OFF DUTY, POSSIBLY IN SEARCH OF A GOOD RUCKUS. WELL, THEY CERTAINLY GOT ONE, REGARDLESS.

THEY ALL TURNED TOWARDS SIMON, AND THE TROOP COMMANDER RAISED HIS METAL FINGER. “YOU.” HE CALLED OUT IN THE MOST SERIOUS OF TONES, “THIRTY-NINE BULLETS.”

SIMON DID NOT RESPOND. HE SIMPLY CHARGED FORTH, AND UNLEASHED THE FULL FURY OF A BARTENDER SCORNED.

BAR FIGHT - WITNESS ME

SHIT MAN I'M POSTING IN THE MORNING, THIS LOOKS FUN.

@Wade Wilson

ROOKIE MOVE, LETTING THE ENEMY KNOW WHEN YOU'RE GONNA FIGHT AT THEM.

BAR FIGHT - WITNESS ME

A GRAY, EYELESS THING WITH BITS OF METAL POKING OUT OF HIS HEAD ATTEMPTS TO SIT COMFORTABLY AT A TABLE WHILE THE REST OF THE PATRONS SMACK SHIT AROUND HIM.

ANOTHER BALD MAN, NOT THE BARTENDER OF THIS ABSOLUTE FAILURE OF AN ESTABLISHMENT, SLAMS HIS HEAD AGAINST THE TABLE’S SURFACE AND YELLS, “THE BLOOD OF THE WARRIORS FILLS ME WITH DESTRUCITY!”

UNBRIDLED RAGE BOILS WITHIN THE EYELESS BEING, WHO BEGINS TO TWITCH FEVERISHLY.

“NOW YOU WILL EXPERIENCE ALL UNPLEASANTRIES! I WILL BREAK YOUR SPINE, UNTIL YOUR CHILDREN ARE IN PAIN!”

EYELESS SCREECHES, SIMILARLY TO A BARN OWL, AND YANKS OUT ONE OF THE METAL SHARDS IN HIS HEAD, STABBING BALDY IN HIS HEAD BEFORE STANDING UPRIGHT AND JAMMING THE THING INTO HIS NECK. BALDY FALLS BACKWARD, A CRAZED SMILE ON HIS FACE, AND THE EYELESS BEING YANKS OUT TWO MORE SHARDS FROM HIS SCALP BEFORE CONTINUING HIS RAMPAGE.

MEANWHILE, THE BALD-TENDER HAS RECOVERED. HE STANDS UP, SHOTGUN IN HAND, AND VAULTS OVER THE BAR, WORKING HIS WAY THROUGH THE CROWD. HE RUNS OUT OF AMMUNITION MIDWAY THROUGH HIS CRUSADE, AND RESORTS TO RAW PUGILISM, BUILDING UP HIS ULTIMATE METER WITH SICK COMBOS AND THE OCCASIONAL TAUNT.

BAR FIGHT - WITNESS ME

THIS WAS A HUGE MISTAKE AND THAT'S FINE.

BAR FIGHT - WITNESS ME

THE BEARDED MAN FELL TO THE FLOOR, SURROUNDED BY BROKEN GLASS AND WASTED BOOZE. HE WAS OUT FOR THE COUNT, OBVIOUSLY NOT HOLDING UP TO THE STRENGTH AND VIGOR HE HAD DISPLAYED JUST A MOMENT AGO. THE BARTENDER LOOKED DOWN AT THE MESS, AND THEN UP AT THE REPTILIAN MAN. HE POINTED A FINGER AT HIM AND ANNOUNCED, “YOU’RE PAYING FOR THAT, YOU LIZARD SUMBITCH.”

THE LIZARD SIMPLY YELLED IN RESPONSE, TO WHICH THE BARTENDER RETALIATED AND GRABBED A FINE PUMP-ACTION FROM UNDERNEATH THE BAR, FULLY LOADED. HE PUMPED AND AIMED AT THE REPTILIAN BEHEMOTH, UNLOADED SHELL AFTER SHELL INTO HIS UPPER BODY, ONLY TO BE STOPPED HALFWAY BY A RAGING BALL OF FIRE HURDLING TOWARDS HIS SHINY CRANIUM. HE DUCKED BEHIND THE COUNTER, SCRAMBLING FOR MORE AMMUNITION.

MEANWHILE, OVER IN ONE OF THE BOOTHS, A REDHEADED GIRL IN A GREEN TUNIC WAS SWINGING A BROADSWORD AROUND HAPHAZARDLY, YELLING INCOHERENTLY. A MAN PLAGUED BY AN ELDRITCH MUTATION BUMPED INTO HER SIDE, TO WHICH SHE TOOK GREAT OFFENSE, AND PROCEEDED TO CLEAVE OFF HIS HEAD. SHE HELD IT UP AND SCREAMED AT IT, AND THE SEVERED HEAD SCREAMED BACK IN AN UNHOLY TONGUE. SHE HELD THE HEAD UP HIGH, FOOT PLANTED ON HER VICTIM'S LIFELESS CARCASS.

TO LIVE AND DIE GLORIOUSLY, TO BATHE IN THE BLOOD OF HER ENEMIES, TO GORGE ON THE HEARTS OF BEASTS, THIS WOULD BE HER FINAL BATTLE TO PROVE HER WORTH TO THOSE WHO STAND AT THE GATES OF VALHALLA.

BAR FIGHT - WITNESS ME

GO AHEAD AND POST CHARACTERS HERE IF YOU WANT, I DON'T REALLY SEE ANY REASON TO.

BAR FIGHT - WITNESS ME

ANGRY, HEAVILY BEARDED MAN IS SEATED AT THE BAR. BROWS ARE FURLED, EYES RED FOR NO APPARENT REASON. EVERYONE ELSE SEEMS PERFECTLY CALM WHILE THIS ONE MAN IS ABOUT READY TO EXPLODE. BOTTLE OF NONSPECIFIC BRAND ALCOHOL IS BEING HELD VERY TIGHTLY IN HIS RIGHT HAND. AUDIBLE GRUNTS ESCAPE THROUGH HIS TEETH.

ANIMATE SKELETON WEARING ORNATE JEWELRY AND CRIMSON ROBE STRUTS BY HIM AND TURNS TO THE BARTENDER, A BALD DUDE IN A NICE BLUE VEST. "EHHHHHH." SKELETON SAYS IN A RIDICULOUSLY COCKNEY ACCENT, SOMEHOW WITHOUT THE NEED OF VOCAL CHORDS AND OTHER ORGANIC SYSTEMS NECESSARY IN THE ACT OF SPEAKING, "WOULD YEH FACILITATE ME WITH A DEPLORABLE BEVERAGE, KIND SEH?"

"SURE." BALD-TENDER REPLIES, HANDING SKELETON A BEER. SKELETON NODS AND WRAPS HIS FREE HAND AROUND THE ANGRY BEARDED MAN, SAYING ALOUD, "QUALITY LIQUEH BE OCCUPATIN' AH GUZZAHDS TONOIGHT, EH RICHARD?"

NO.

NO MORE OF THIS.

BEARDED MAN'S GRIP TIGHTENS. BOTTLE SHATTERS, GLASS SHARDS PIERCE SKIN OF HIS HAND. HE LETS OUT A BLOOD-CURDLING YELL, PICKS UP HIS STOOL, AND SLAMS IT UPSIDE THE SKELETON'S HEAD, WHO FALLS TO THE FLOOR, RELATIVELY UNHARMED AND INTACT. BEARDED MAN CLIMBS UP ON TOP OF THE BAR, RIPS OFF HIS FLANNEL SHIRT, AND SCREAMS.

"BAAAAAAAAAAR FIIIIIIIIIIIGHT!"

MOMENTARY SILENCE.

EVERYONE TURNS TO THE NEAREST LIVING THING AND SCREAMS IN THEIR FACE.

IT BEGINS.

BAR FIGHT - WITNESS ME

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~ WELCOME TO BAR FIGHT, THE BAR WHERE YOU FIGHT. ~

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HERE ARE THE RULES FOR BAR FIGHTING.

RULE 1 - CAPS ONLY, OTHERWISE NO ONE CAN HEAR YOU. THIS INCLUDES THE OOC.

RULE 2 - EVERYONE MUST FIGHT.

RULE 3 - CHARACTER TALKING IS NOT ALLOWED TO EXCEED CHARACTER FIGHTING.

RULE 4 - THIS BAR EXISTS IN A MULTI-UNIVERSAL INTERSECTION NOT BOUND BY THE CONVENTIONAL LAWS OF REALITY. THIS MEANS ITS PATRONS ARE COMPRISED OF BOTH HUMANS AND NOT-HUMANS, SO GO CRAZY WITH YOUR CHARACTERS.

RULE 5 - SEVERE AND FATAL INJURIES MAY BE FREELY INFLICTED UPON ONE ANOTHER. IF YOU DON'T LIKE SOMETHING THAT HAPPENS TO YOUR CHARACTER, JUST HAVE THEM WALK IT OFF.

RULE 6 - TEAM UPS ARE FUN AND ENCOURAGED.

RULE 7 - YOU CAN MAKE AS MANY CHARACTERS AS YOU WANT, JUST SO LONG AS THEY DO A MINIMUM AMOUNT OF FIGHTING.

RULE 8 - THERE IS NO CHARACTER SHEET. DON'T ASK ME FOR ONE.

RULE 9 - POST LENGTH IS INCONSEQUENTIAL AS LONG AS THERE'S FIGHTING BEING DONE.

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I'VE HAD A LOT OF IDEAS FOR ROLE-PLAYS LATELY BUT HONESTLY I DON'T WANNA INVEST ANYMORE TIME AND THOUGHT INTO PLOTS THAT END UP GOING NOWHERE FAST. SO HERE'S SOMETHING TO JUST DICK AROUND AND HAVE FUN WITH. IF YOU'RE NOT INTO THE IDEA THAT'S FINE, JUST MOVE ALONG AND FIND SOMETHING ELSE THAT TICKLES YOUR PICKLE. OTHERWISE, COME ON IN AND THROW A PUNCH OR TWO.

IF YOU HAVE QUESTIONS (AND I DON'T KNOW WHY YOU WOULD), JUST YELL THEM HERE.

Knights of Melarus

Karkadin Gatoa and Vyri Underfoot

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Karkadin raised his spear as the first wight rushed towards him, thrusting the sharp end in between its ribs as he'd done so earlier. The wight was stopped cold, unable to push its ribs past the thick shell around the spear's end. Another of the undead trio charged forth, the third in tow, and Karkadin responded appropriately. He swiped his spear to the left wall, the wight stuck on its end falling off and topling over. The second wight swung at the dorak with its ragged arms, only to be kicked back onto the floor. The third, however, got a lucky hit in with a mess of bones and other random debris tied around its hand, hitting Karkadin's shoulder before he could get a chance to block. He grunted, reeling a bit, and the wight took the chance to attack once again. Karkadin shot out his free hand, grabbing the wight's exposed neck vertebrae and furiously throttled the creature, disconnecting the skull from the rest of the body, which crumpled onto the floor.

Karkadin, teeth grit and eyes wide, held the skull in his hands by the stump of its neck. He turned towards another wight, now recovering from its past blow, and stepped forth to beat it over its head, with a head. Three bashes, and both skulls were well and split wide open. Karkadin slammed his foot on the downed wight's neck, severing its skull as well. He quickly sheathed his spear and promptly took both skulls towards a nearby window. Not even bothering to check if it was locked, he smashed the glass with the slightly more intact of the two skulls, and tossed what little remained out onto the streets below. That would incapacitate them well enough, for a moment.

But there was the third one. Karkadin turned to see the last of the trio stumbling towards Vyri, who was backing away with that stool leg raised, and shaking. He quickly dashed towards it and grabbed its skull with both of his hands, fingers in the eye sockets, twisting the neck with a horribly audible snap, and threw it out the window as well. Now, there was nothing but them, and the crumpled skeletons lying on the floor. Karkadin, taking in a few good breaths, looked at Vyri and said, "So far, so good... let's get downstairs…”

She complied, and the duo proceeded. Karkadin’s shoulder was stinging, but not so badly hurt he couldn’t fight. These wights were using horribly ineffective weapons - well, that one was, at least. Karkadin shook off the slight pain and led Vyri through the hallway, until they came upon a large living room. It was, for the most part, undamaged, save for some scuffs on the overturned furniture, possibly from people trying desperately to escape the onslaught. There were wights dotted around the room, who immediately took notice of the dorak and the girl. Stealth was definitely not an option now.

Two wights made the first move, bounding towards Karkadin and Vyri. One thankfully stumbled over a broken table, while Karkadin swiped at the remaining one’s head. “Stay behind me!” He called out, taking a stand as the rest of the group made for him. Each went down with a swipe of the dorak’s spear, or a swift kick to their exposed spines. They, however, reformed about as quickly as they went down. The duo elected to keep moving while Karkadin fended off the wights, with Vyri running past and Karkadin backing up towards the opposite door in her stead. He jabbed at every advancing wight, though one managed to get in close and pushed Karkadin through the doorframe. He grabbed its neck, pushed it back into the living room, and shut the door. Respondedly, Vyri was already pushing a somewhat small marble standl along the floor, which had once held an elegant suit of armor, the pieces now scattered about the floor. It didn’t look too effective, but there weren’t a wide array of options available. Karkadin positioned the stand in front of the door once Vyri brought it over, and neither of them wasted time to see if it helped it all. They ran through the hallway, and down a staircase that led into the main foyer of the manor.

Surprisingly, there weren’t as many wights in the more open space. Some meandering about the bottom floor, seemingly devoid of immediate intent. “Go!” Karkadin said to Vyri, and neither of them hesitated - they bolted down the staircase, straight past the wights and towards the front doors of the manor, the doors already slightly ajar. First out was the dorak, then the girl, and then the group of wights, joined by the others from upstairs - passed the impromptu barricade all too fast. They all dashed through the street, circling around the corner, where the rest of the company lied in wait - the men, the gnome, the fairfolk, and the beetle.

They’d make short work of these pursuers.

Knights of Melarus

Good post boys, when's the next one?

@Spoopy Scary

Been kinda sick. I'll have something up later.