Fellowship of the Dice

"Besmara preserve us!" Maggie cries out, taking a last swig of her drink and making a simple warding gesture with her free hand - the kind a superstitious person would use. "I was hoping for a quiet night."

Toruk glowers at the man that shoved the other into his table. The blue skinned Undine takes a few steps forward and punches the offender right in the nose. The blow lands hard, and it blinds the drunkard with pain as his nose bursts open red. He topples backwards into another collection of men, knocking drinks off their table causing them to join the fight.

Maggie stands up and wards herself against danger, a simple motion she's made a hundred times before. Downing her drink she tests the weight of the mug in her hand and has a good feeling about this. Something about her's changed however, as if Besmara was actually listening to her this time, a sort of divine bit of luck must be with her for she ducks just in time as a plate of half eaten haddock just misses her head.

"I'd say be careful with my dinner," Maggie calls out. "But I ordered the chowder." Then she looks for anyone encroaching on her territory that she can brain with her mug.

In a bit of irony, Toruk has unhanded several others from their ales who now hold their focus on him.

He spots an empty mug on the floor and reaches his hand out while phrasing, "manus de in magi."

Maggie is waiting for some trouble and a short dwarven fellow with an eye patch sneers at the woman. "Lassy, you took me table! Now your gonna pay!" He charges right at her with a large serving tray as a shield. He slams into her legs buckling her knee and sending he sliding to the floor.

Toruk is busy disarming the locals of their drinks and scoops up one of his own and chugs it down. His eyes on Maggie he watches her climb back to her feet, she seems to have the dwarf right where she wants him.

"Don't be blamin' me just because yer stubby little feet can't get you across the tavern in time." Her brogue becomes more pronounced as she gets angry. "Or was it just that you were to drunk at the time ta be standin' up?" She swings at the dwarf with her mug, trying to brain the lout.

Besmara's blessing must be on the woman today, for after insulting the dwarf she smashes her crockery over his head and brains him sending him tumbling to the ground right at Toruk's feet. The stout little fellow is stunned a moment, unsure how to act as the blue skinned dinner companion on Maggie reacts.

Looking down at his feet Toruk says, "Fool of a Dwarf..."

Clearly this girl can take care of herself, Toruk muses and returns his focus to the men who are charging him. He braces for impact as there are three of them...

Toruk turns as three men charge at him. The first of them is a toothless elven sort, with a scar on his mouth that looks almost like he had it sewn shut at one point. He leads with his fist but Toruk manages to dodge. The second man, a tall man wearing a set of noble clothing comes in. At a second look his clothes while once finely made are old and ragged, tattered on the edges and missing matching buttons. He has a belaying pin in his hand and he clubs Toruk in the kidney sending the Undine down to his knees from the shooting pain that cuts through his side. The three charging man is is actually a woman. She has a mane of black hair with a shock of white running through it. Her bosom is far from ample, and she's easily mistaken for a boy, perhaps that's her plan. "Arrrrrg!" Shouting she brings her leather booted foot up into the crotch of the sorcerer connecting with his family pearls and hard!

A tall good-looking man enters the bar, is surprised for a moment at the fighting but he adjusts quickly, scanning the room. He sees Maggie and his eyes are fixed on her for a moment. He attempts to walk in her direction when he sees the three brawlers hit Toruk. He steps up and taps the one in the noble clothing on the shoulder. "Excuse me." He bends his head a bit to dodge a thrown fork. "Excuse me. My name is Roderick Belmonte and I think a fight one on one might be less unfair." He smiles, tips his hat at the man, and then goes into a traditional boxing stance, fists in front of his face, focusing on defense and trying to wait for the opportune moment to hit.