Thurimar's target seems rather thoroughly subdued. Elves of any kindred tend to come off worse when facing off against dwarves in any contest involving strength.
Alonso, finding himself easily outpaced by the nimble drow, hurls the mug at his head out of sheer frustration. He never even saw it coming. The mug shatters, coving the drow's head in booze and causing him to stagger in his flight. By the time he's recovered, Alonso has closed the distance, and there's a drow with a cudgel blocking the door. He has the look of bouncers the world over.
Nezetta has less luck, her foe managing to sidestep out of the way of her kick. As one might suspect, the item he pulls from his coat is a weapon. A pistol, to be precise. Those damn things are getting more common by the day.
Even as the drow takes aim, he is interrupted by a loud
thunk. A crossbow bolt sticks quiverring in the wall, and eyes are inevitably drawn to the bartender, who is already dropping a fresh bolt into place from the rack atop his weapon.
"
That's enough," he says, in tones that brook no argument. "Everybody take a few deep breaths and calm the
frazz down."
Unfortunately, the drow with the pistol looks anything but calm. He hasn't fired yet, but he's awfully twitchy, and the certainty of retribution will be of scant comfort to Nezetta if she's been shot. Then again, retribution would probably cut the other way if she tried anything...
Edited by: [url=http://p068.ezboard.com/brpgww60462.showUserPublicProfile?gid=kelne>Kelne</A] at: 12/4/06 7:21