Grall Bonekeeper stomps angrily into the Tavern with a snarl on his lips, practically knocking over any patrons unlucky enough to be caught in his path. Instead of sitting at the bar, he kicks the bar stool out of the way, sending it flying across the room and into the wall. After a loud crack, all that remains of the stool are a few broken splinters.
"Barmaid!," he shouts to the petrified woman behind the counter. "Get me something strong, something from the bottom of the barrel that would send even ol' Taklin into a drunken stupor. What are you still standing there for, ya stupid wench? I SAID NOW!" The furious Angori slams his fist down on the counter, foam forming around his fangs. The wooden surface cracks slightly under his enormous knuckles. The woman flees in terror to fetch the Savage's drink.
Grall spins around, eyes aflame, and slaps Rasiri's hand away.
"I'm roaring upward because that damn Jester took all of my gold! All of it; gone," the Angori snarls as the barmaid quickly and carefully rushes back to present a tall pint of ale. "I'm left only with enough silver to buy a few drinks." Picking up the ale and taking a draft, Grall immediately spews out the drink, showering Rasiri in a foul combination of ale and Angori slobber.
"What on Orn do you think this is, barmaid!? If I wanted some Elf-tea, I would have mixed dirt and twigs with my own urine and drank it while reciting poetry! In fact, while I'm at it, I might as well grow pointed ears, shave off my horns, and have the fairies show me what clothing is "in" this season! You're lucky I don't burn this filthy hole-of-a-tavern to the very ground it stands upon!" The Savage kicks another bar stool into the air in order to help express his rage, this time connecting the projectile with a nearby patron. *5 blunt*
"The Shady Corners calls me home." Thalenir's voice echoes through the tavern in now-characteristic fashion and he appears in a flash of azure light directly in the path of Grall's stool. The wood splinters over his head as he reels backward from the unexpected blow.
Thalenir takes a moment to right himself, swaying unsteadily as he rubs the wound on his head. "Well, I'd say that's a clear case of assault...," he mutters as he turns to face Grall. "Master Bonekeeper, I trust you have a good explanation for this. A fervent desire to see the inside of Sheriff DeLeon's jail, perhaps?" he says coldly, apparently unthreatened by the angori's fierce demeanor.
From the back corner of the tavern and its cubby comes a small groan, then a loud yawn, and finally Ripper's head appears from beneath a pile of furs. One pigtail is cocked down below her ear and the other nearly on top of her head.
"Squirrel-lickin' stump-squatter..."
Rubbing at both eyes she sits up and lets the blanket slide off her shoulders, wearing her rather familiar (by now) bat-like jammies.
"Are we gettin' attacked? Is it sunset yet?"
Rasiri grimaced and wiped the ale off of his clothes. "Grall my friend, i would rather you cool your head... first off you don't have the money to pay for the damages to the bar and i don't want to have to, and i would rather not have you in jail. So apologise to Thalenir and calm down."
Grall seems thrown off by inadvertently hitting the Wizard, having no love for magic but knowing its power none the less, but continues foaming at the mouth and shouting loud enough for all to hear.
"How can I calm down when I've been robbed? That cursed Jester took all the money I had and vanished as quick as he appeared! If I ever get my hands on him, I'll gore him to death and wear his skull as a hat! I can't be bothered with paying for minor damages or visiting jail houses right now, I'VE BEEN ROBBED!"
The Angori tears at his thick mane of hair, clearly upset with all those around him, but especially himself for allowing himself to be so foolish.
Thalenir shakes his head slowly and incants. "The mists of slumber seize your mind." He waves his hand at Grall, who falls silent, droops his eyelids, staggers, and at last lays down on the tavern floor and falls to sleep. (Sleep)
"Thankfully, we have ways of making you calm down if you can't do it yourself, my angry friend. Now," he says, turning to Rasiri, "do you know anything about this theft he's talking about? I met the Jester he spoke of and won a few gold pieces from him in games of chance. Is that what he means? Does he have poor luck or did the Jester actually steal from him?"
"I thought as much," Thalenir says, looking down at Grall. He retrieves a pitcher of water from a nearby table and pours it on the angori's head. "Rise and shine, Grall." He stoops down next to the groggy savage. "I trust your little nap has cooled you off a bit. I'd hate to have to do that again, but you were living up to every bar room joke they tell about your race. Surely a proud spirehorn such as yourself can compose himself a bit more civilly. If not," he adds with a hint of menace, "Master DeLeon will be more than happy to find you accommodations until you calm down."
Thalenir rises. "Now, as I understand it, you lost money gambling, yes? To the best of my recollection, Jastrey has no laws prohibiting games of chance, and calling such things 'theft' is certainly a stretch of the imagination. Perhaps next time you'll exercise better judgment with your gold. In the mean time, I see a tavern that needs cleaning and a barmaid who deserves your most sincere apology." He stands over the angori with his arms crossed and an expectant look on his face.
Grall sputters as the water is poured onto his head. After blinking at the surprise of waking when no memory of feeling drowsy was ever present, the Angori listens to Thalenir's words before rising slowly. Though he towers over the wizard, Grall restrains himself from trying to intimidate his friend, knowing he would only find himself waking up on the Tavern floor once again, cold and soaked. Inhaling a great breath, Grall turns to the barmaid first.
"I ap-po-lige-iz-e for ordering you around," he begins, stumbling over the word apologize. The Savage is clearly unused to humility, or being treated like a child throwing a tantrum for that matter. "As for the damages, I cannot pay for them and I am unable to fix them for you. But I will pay for my drink and leave."
True to his word, Grall drops a few silver pieces onto the counter and walks away from the counter, shouldering past Thalenir. He turns before exiting the door and says, "Believe what you will, but the Jester is a thief. A thief, I say! And if I ever find him again, there will be blood on the soil." With those final words, Grall departs from the Tavern.
Thalenir waits for Grall to leave, then uncrosses his arms and breathes a sigh of relief. "Well, that could have gone worse. I half expected him to get up and throttle me with the nearest blunt object." He takes a seat and gestures to the barmaid for a mug of ale. "A proud people, the angori. I've known a few in my time. Quick to anger, but you'd be hard-pressed to find hardier traveling companions once you've earned their respect. Too bad magic doesn't generally qualify." He chuckles at a private recollection. "If anything, it just tends to make them mad."
He thanks the barmaid for his ale and takes a long draft. "There may be 'no justice in Jastrey,' but I like to think we can have peace, at least. Maybe I should talk to this Jester fellow, leastwise to advise him to make peace with Grall before something regrettable happens."
Thalenir hears the commotion outside and watches Rasiri rush out the front door. He closes his eyes wearily and takes a long draft from his mug, but does not rise and rush outside to see what's going on. "Best to let him get it out of his system, then make sure he hasn't killed anyone... or gotten himself killed, for that matter," Thalenir mutters to himself as he waits for the ruckus to die down.
"What has you in such an uproar, my fine angori friend?" Rasiri said as he walked up behind Grall and put his hand on his soulder.