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Piss Patrol I

Master Magpie Grayhope has submitted some petitions to the Iron Guard regarding people peeing on the streets outside of his bar! How horrible! The Iron Guard, as super respectable organization it is, has beefed up patrols to catch the pissers an set them on their way to a proper peeing spot. It begins just like any other piss patrol...

Date

Feb. 23, 2019, 1 p.m.

Hosted By

Kenna

GM'd By

Kenna

Participants

Magpie Gunther Jyri Harper Malcolm

Organizations

Iron Guard

Location

Arx - Lower Boroughs - Crows Lane

Largesse Level

Small

Comments and Log


The Lower Boroughs don't really care that it's deep into the night right now, though there is quite a bit of complaining about the heat happening among those denizens who walk the streets. Many of the shops are closed, but the Murder of Crows is still open with its lights on invitingly. Some people trickle in and out of the bar. Most looks perfectly innocent, but there's a group on the corner that are talking in hushed tones, and a few groups of kids that should probably be tucked in bed and not wandering about the streets.

Gunther is no stranger to poverty. And the elder fellow is whistling as he walks in the sweltering darkness. The tune is nothing just some common farm diddy from the backwoods. His mitts are tucked behind him as the man takes each step. He looks over at the Murder of Crows where he had some weeks ago been sweeping up for Room and Board until things settled. It is that direction from across the street he is heading.

Jyri looks like this is the best day /ever/. This is familiar territory, this is what he has done for years. Heck, he's not even wearing that new shiny rubicund, but the old trusty Iron Guard leathers. Three dogs trail along with him as he makes his way down here for today's mission. His Iron Guard cloak flutter behind him as he takes militaristic fast marching steps, his one eye focusing only forward. (In fact, one could wonder if he even sees anything on his left side what with that eye being gone and all.) "Smell that?" he tells his companions. "I've missed this." The smell of piss? Stale ale? Other worse things?

Making her way down the street toward the Murder with the others, looking a little bleary-eyed as they near the end of her patrol route, Harper looks around tiredly. Spotting kids or people congregating to whisper isn't that unusual, but Jyri's comment has her sniffing. She quips, "Jyri, you've been in silks too damned long. That's just the way this place smells." Color it tiredness or just frustration at her husband's inane complaints, either way Harper definitely seems grouchy tonight.

Malcolm's pacing alongside the others, on patrol, walking the opposite side of the street with his own massive mountain of floof padding at his heel. For all of that, yes, he also seems to be in a terrifyingly good mood. Utterly uncaring of the image that he must certainly be creating as he hums his own tuneless little melody, thumbs tucked into the sides of his pockets -- gaze swinging about this way and that, looking alert.

Jyri checked dexterity + dodge at difficulty 15, rolling 26 higher.

Malcolm checked dexterity + dodge at difficulty 15, rolling 28 higher.

Harper checked dexterity + dodge at difficulty 15, rolling 55 higher.

Gunther checked dexterity + dodge at difficulty 15, rolling 50 higher.

The IRon Guard are just another fact of life in the lowers. They're always around when you just don't want them to be. The group of hushed talkers glances over and them move along their way to find another corner to whisper in. Suddenly the silence is broken as a slimy and half rotted fish flies through the air and manages to miss all of them fully though they might walk through the spray left behind. "GO AWAY GUARD." That voice sounds vaguely like a child's and it's followed by a bunch of titters that disappear into the crowd.

Spray of filthy fish juice-slash-old-seaspray is just the thing to make Malcolm's weathered features brighten up into a big ol' grin, "NOPE. Sorry kiddos."

"Oi!" Jyri calls out, ducking under the fish, or well, it misses him. He was just lucky. "Hah, good thing I didn't wear them silks," he tells Harper. "Kids," he snickers, but tries to keep up the appearance of a stern Iron Guard, very disapproving. "This ain't impressing me. Once they tipped a whole bucket of ROTTEN fish on top of us from a roof. That took some dedication and planning." He crosses his arms over his chest and stands glowering, looking around the area in search of other offenders. Like, people peeing somewhere.

Spotting Gunther, Harper raises a hand to him in greeting, calling over, "Heya, Gunther!" She doesn't pause though and keeps trudging on along the street. As the half rotted fish flies through the air nearby, Harper rolls her eyes and yells, "You gotta throw better than that!" Shaking her head, she just keeps on going down the street, mostly oblivious to kids pranks these days. Though she does give a glance back, trying to peer into the darkness, and mutters under her breath, "Better not be Pie."

"Oh, Hullo there!" The man calls to Harper, "Hullo!" Gunther who is not in the guard but happens to be a passerby spots the fish as it flies and he stops to watch it sail and land with no harm. And he looks down and squints, "Well, reckon this is a sad situation." He delcares as he moves to inspect the fish. The old sod crouches and reaches down with one of his mangled mitts. He looks the fish over. Gunther is short when he is standing and when he crouches he looks every bit the comb-over mid-fifties man with a gut he is. He takes the fish in hand and then just shakes his head as he looks over towards the group, "Ain't you youngin's smart?" He snaps the fish in two and leaves the rotted guts around, "Ya don't through a perfectly good half-rotted fish. Ya throw the bits you ain't want after use cleaned it from a slop bucket. Can't duck it." He chuckles, "You fellas is amateurs." He brings up some of the unrotted part of the fish and takes a bite. Fish scales cling to his lips and he smiles, "Mmmmm, that's good vittles." He pioints to Jyri, "Reckon you got the right of it too."

"Ah, what kinda pie, Harper --" Malcolm's asking in a low-voiced mutter, understanding the word itself but missing the context. "Blueberry's good. Also real keen on blackberry - real keen." He adds with an absent-minded nod. "Thinkin you both're pretty right. Back in th' days of m'own youth -- we went straight to th' chum bucket. Less waste that way. More mess, on account those hunks and chunks flew better than a _whole_ darned fish." The Shepherd Duke's speaking in his usual roughneck rowl of words, latching onto Gunter's appearance with a lift of his hand and a very casual greeting, smiling. "Hallo there yerself."

Princess Sally Acorn, an acorn toting red squirrel leaves, following Kenna.

Princess Sally Acorn, an acorn toting red squirrel arrives, following Kenna.

Kenna drops Princess Sidney's Summer Piss.

"BOO." The kids call out when the guard doesn't react to their provacaton. Even Gunther gets jeered at, "Not when that fish got pissed on sir!" One of them calls. More laughter before the kids rush around the guards and leave again. For a moment all seems quiet and even plesant. Nothing in the lowers will stay that way for long. From within the Murder of Crows there's a sudden ring of sound which stays indoors for only a few seconds. Few people want to piss off Magpie by fighting IN his bar so instead the fight spills out onto the street. Three men, each obviously drunk trade swings at one another. The tallest of the men has dark hair and a patched hat. He's the most dangerous as he swings around a bottle of Pincess Sidney's Summer Piss about.

"Hello there," Jyri greets Gunther with a friendly enough nod. "Ama-" he begins to echo, then his eyes widen and he has to hide laughter behind a cough and a gauntleded fist. "Maybe good they missed us," he murmurs, eyeing that fish on the ground with mild amusement now. "I wouldn't mind some pie after this," he says, perking up again. "Sounds good, Duke. Lotties got nice pies. We can-" And once more he's interrupted, as the fight is taken outside. His one eye gleam in excitement and he looks at Harper and Malcolm with a wide grin. "Like old times..." He starts jogging towards the fighters.

With a sympathetic look, marred a little by the wrinkling of her nose at the fish, Harper snorts then asks, "Gunther, are you hungry? If so, come on in to the Murder and I'll get you a meal on the house." Stopping, she plants her fists on her hips, saying, "And don't encourage them, either of you." She looks from Jyri to Gunther, adding, "If they've got the ingenuity to do something that creative, then they've got enough to do something more productive. Even the Grayhopes don't applaud folks just sitting around being lazy. You gotta work for a living!" Malcolm earns a snort, as she shakes her head, explaining, "Pie is mine and Magpie's son, Malcolm. Not food. I swear are you all starving?" The sounds of the fight draw her attention away though, and reaches up to rub her face, muttering sarcastically, "Oh great, drunks. I just love getting beat up by drunks." She takes off after Jyri though, hot on his heels despite the difference in height.

Lastly, yeah, that's Malcolm that's touching the fingers to the brim of his hat in a salute that he snaps off toward Harper as she chastises them. "Always hungry. An' yeah, Officer Harper. No encouragin them. Though, it's hard not to - they're just kids. An' don't all kids deserve some time to just -- oooh, lookit, a _fight_." He'll be taking up the rear, although he seems less determined about breaking up the fight and more concerned that no one actually gets _hurt_ by the swinging bottle. "Fists are fair, fellows. Glass ain't."

Gunther blinks as the kids tell him they pissed on the fish. He looks to his mitts where the still good meat is. He sniffs it. And after tossing another bite in, "Ain't the first time my vittles been pissed on." And then the man smiles over to Harper, "Oh, reckon I can afford vittles. Just don't like seeing waste is all. Lots of hungry fellas and little ones that coulda used this here good meat. I'm gonna give mah supper money to thems that needs it." He chuckles, "Ain't got barely none tastebuds left anyhow." And with that he rubs the fish scales from his mouth. He swallows the bite and stands to look towards the fight, "Now you fellas." This to the guard, "Thems that ain't swingin' no bottles, don't go an knock heads with your weapons none. Just a good ol' fashion mitt tosser is all." Gunther makes his way to keep an eye on things. He doesn't go to toss knucks just yet.

Gunther holds up his hands, "Aight aight, no encouragin'"

Kenna GM Roll checked strength(4) + brawl(3) at difficulty 20, rolling 19 higher.

Kenna GM Roll checked strength(3) + brawl(3) at difficulty 20, rolling 7 higher.

Gunther checked willpower at difficulty 15, rolling 8 lower.

Kenna GM Roll checked strength(3) + brawl(3) at difficulty 20, rolling 31 higher.

Visibly rolling her eyes at Malcolm, Harper says impertinently, "Malcolm, I'm just Harper to my fellow guards. Don't go getting fancy on me." She flashes a grin at Gunther and nods, saying, "Good man!" But then she's off after Jyri and her chatter stops.

fora moment each of the men are WAY too pissdrunk at one another to care about who else is about. They each are landing blows on one another, each more harsh than the last. One way or another none of the three of them are going to exit out of here without some serious cuts and bruises. When the guards start wading in through, their drunk anger turns onto the guards and their INTERFERENCE.



Others have started to gather, with one rather fat man standing beside Gunther and scratching at his groin. "Put ten silver on them guards."

Malcolm checked strength + brawl at difficulty 20, rolling 42 higher.

Not-quite-whispers in his not-quite indoor voice, is Malcolm the not-quite spectator. "BUT, Officer Harper -- I'm still a trainee!" He's bouncy, Galina's nearly about to bare her teeth, but a quick word tossed down to the Graypeak dog has her quiet. Turning off and sitting pretty right where she is. Although, she's judging Malcolm's enthusiasm from a distance -- VERY JUDGEMENTAL of her charge. Malcolm eeny-meeny-miney-moes, choosing a fighter, and he's all prepared to scrap. (And likely prepared to get his ass beat down for it. So it does.) "Hey - hey, pick me! Pick me!"

Kenna GM Roll checked strength(3) + brawl(3) at difficulty 20, rolling 19 higher.

Jyri checked dexterity + huge wpn at difficulty 20, rolling 38 higher.

Harper checked dexterity + brawl at difficulty 20, rolling 1 higher.

Kenna GM Roll checked strength(4) + brawl(3) at difficulty 20, rolling 22 higher.

Kenna GM Roll checked strength(3) + brawl(3) at difficulty 20, rolling 4 higher.

Hardly interested in killing anyone, Jyri swings his spear around, whirls it in his hands and sends a well aimed sharp twack at the dangerous man with the bottle, in fact trying to hit his hands in order to make him drop the weapon before someone actually DOES bleed here. "Oi! Cut it out," he adds on in a loud bark. Speaking of barking? His dogs have joined, but they're not attacking; it's not a good spot for it, but they do fan out and keeps guard on the area instead. They are however barking loudly.

The older man smiles warmly to Harper. He watches the fight with fondness in his eyes and it tugs on some heartstrings, "Met my Sally after a knuckle duster I lost." He stands there in no hurry to get involved as he watches things unfold before him. He gets himself out of memory lane and starts strolling towards the altercation. He is in no hurry to bump knucks against noggins and if we are being honest part of him likely wants to join the poor sods just throwin' down in an honest haymaker affair against guards. It was part of poor life ritual. Gunther starts to whistle a bit. He then looks to the fat man where he comes to rest nearby, "Don't gamble no coin no more. Sorry, fella. Onna account I promised my Sally I'd not get into my cups and the sins that made me a poor excuse for a fella." Gunther sighs and reaches down to the hem of his shirt. He tugs it up and off and then wraps it around his right oversized mitt. Gunther is a hair guy. Hair crawls up from his shoulders, chest, belly, and back. His old man body has that deceptive old man strength though. His popeye like arms are evident. His gut though... one fat one-pack.

Harper tosses Malcolm another eyeroll, before beelining it for one of the fighters, calling over her shoulder, "I'm not calling you by fancy titles when we're on duty! So get over it!" Focusing more on speed to get there and less on her size compared to the other man's size, she just dives right in to try to tackle him. She has a huge grin on her face, though as she does. She's obviously relishing the thought of a good fight, not even bothering to draw the fancy sword from her side.

As the guards wade in it splits into three different battles with one guard for each man. Malcolm's hit knocks his man silly and he staggers backwards and into the wall of the Murder more than dazed.



Harper's not quite so lucky alas, she hits the man she's aiming for, but he isn't at all interested in stopping fighting. Instead he wails back on her with his fist going straight for her face.



It's Jyri's blow that gets the outside crowd mad. "HEY! THAT JYRI JUST SMASHED EDRIC CONNERS WITH A SPEAR!!" The blow makes Edric Connors drop his bottle of Summer Piss and it shatters onto the ground. Never mind that it was the butt of the spear, the rumor runs like mad through the crowd, until it gets blown well out of proportion. By the time it reaches the back of the crowd the story is that Jyri just stabbed Edric and that black spot is ol'Edric's blood. Two men decide it's best to wade in, going to try to attach the guard from the rear. Too far away to hear Gunther's words they try to push past him to get at Jyri.

Satisfied that the bottle is on the ground, Jyri swings his spear again in an attempt to trip the offender and knock him to the ground. So far he's barely hurt the man at all, but well. He IS using his spear... so at least that's correct, even if it's just the wooden part of it. "Hey, what the-" he says and is now trying to turn to face the new threat before HE gets mowed down to the ground.

The old fella listens to the screams and goes, "Ruh-oh, gonna get worse I reckon I'll need to step in serious like." Gunther takes his left palm and he brings it up to his mouth. He deposits some spit into the open mitt to mix with the guts and fish that stinks in his hands. The fella then takes the guts and spit mixture and rubs it over his temples, under his eyes, over his brow (there is some guts dangling from a long eyebrow hair), and along the angles of his chin. He then takes the rest and grabs his comb-over and lays it flat going across the back of his head. His face glistens and the lubrication is an old fighter's trick with animal lard and guts. That way fists and blows slide rather than stick and cause more damage.



"Oh-ho!" Gunther exclaims as he spots two sportly and burly sorts shovin' their way to toss knucks at guards. "That ain't proper sportin'" He tells the pair as the old man reaches out to put a hand on each shoulder of the pair he lets past him. "You fellas is dancin' to the wrong music." He smiles as his iron grip spins them his direction, "I'll be your melody tonight I reckon." He then backs up and puts up his knucks in bare-knuckled fighting position. "When you wake up tells them it was Gunther that sent you." He calls out, "Don't worry about this pair of fellas none."

Kenna GM Roll checked strength(2) + brawl(2) at difficulty 20, rolling 1 lower.

Kenna GM Roll checked strength(2) + brawl(2) at difficulty 20, rolling 1 higher.

Malcolm grabs his drunk by the front of his shirt, rights up him to a sitting position, and dusts him off. With a friendly little grin, he nods. "You're a'right there, friendo. See -- it's nothin more than a dust-up, the ringin in those ears will quit soon enough. Until then, don't puke or go t'sleep, yeah?" He jerks his chin in Gunther's direction and confides to his put-out drunk, "Could been a LOT worse f'yah. I heard stories 'bout that guy."

Gunther checked strength + brawl at difficulty 20, rolling 25 higher.

Harper checked charm + streetwise at difficulty 15, rolling 18 higher.

Harper's grin fades quickly into a grunt as she manages to land a blow right in her target's gut. A good solid hit that doesn't even seem to phase the larger man. The fist that comes toward her face definitely does do some, and has Harper shaking her head to clear it as it connects solidly with her ear. Darting back away from the man, and spotting the crowd starting to lumber in she yells, "Yo! Don't be causing trouble in Grayhope territory or there's gonna be hell to pay!" Glaring at the man in front of her, she says in her most reasonable tone, "Look, I'm not drawing my sword on you. Wouldn't you rather just have another drink inside?" She prepares herself for any other blows, not even trying to take one of her own. She's just going to try to avoid being hit while talking to him reasonably. Maybe she has learned a little from her last encounter with a drunk bigger than her?

Kenna GM Roll checked willpower(2) at difficulty 15, rolling 3 lower.

Two swings of the spear and Mr. Bottle is down; Jyri looks like he's almost disappointed it worked so well, turning to see if those two that were coming after him will be more of a challenge. But Malcolm's words halt him and he lofts an eyebrow to watch the scene for now, see if Harper needs a hand, or if Gunther does... "Yeah?" he tells Malcolm, spear held aloft just in case, warning glances cast around. "Guess I'm not betting against him then." He whistles sharply, to keep the dogs in some control in case they get too excited. Onida is too disciplined for it, but Outi is younger and less trained; he has to be kept an eye on sometimes.

The rest of the crowd aren't stupid, they're not ABOUT to get involved with Edric and the guards. They know full well who is going to come off winning this ground. It's only the two men who wade in. One of them gets stopped by Gunther who manages to knock him out cold. Bye by Mr. Drunk.



The other slips past to go bull-style at Jyri - head down and everything.



Hit hard enough Malcom's man is out of the fight, but that doesn't mean he's done. In reaction to the hit he starts throwing up incidentally right in the direction of Malcolm's shoes.



Harper's guy squints in the light and finally swears. "You're Magpie's Guard Squeeze ain't you?" He spits on the ground but does stagger back. "Shit, I ain't dealin' with that." He turns to stagger away from the fight.

Gunther looks left and right at the pair. He's got his mitts up in a defensive posture. "Tells you what..." The shirt wrapped mitt drew back and popped the man to his right in the jaw so quick one could barely see the twitch of muscle and the motion. Gunter watch as his opponent (victim?) eye starts to swell shut straight off, "Hey where you goin?" Gunther is speaking to the untouched man on his right that's going to another target and not even looking at the man on the left is working over with body shots while bobbing and weaving in and out of striking range, "I was gonna let you get a shot in just so you could says you hit me. Tell your friends an' all." He grins to the man on the right's back and delivers a sound uppercut that sends the foe on the left into the dirt with his toes pointing to the heavens, "Ah well, guess not all of you was dumb after all."

Jyri checked dexterity + brawl at difficulty 20, rolling 13 higher.

Aw -- yeah. Least I think it might've been that guy. Coulda been another. Don't rightly know for sure, Off -- Lor -- uuuuh -- Jyri." Malcolm's caught up with the spectating that he doesn't immediately sidle out of the way when his drunk expressively being to vomit in the general direction of his boots. "Shit happens." Malcolm mutters, and he sidesteps, pulling a grossed-out but vaguely amused face.

Gunther goes down to his downed foe and rifles through the man's pockets. He's robbing his blind. (I'll take your shoes!) and as he gets his meager coins and posessions he calls over to Harper, "Don't suppose when he wakes you can give him his stuff back an' all? Don't want him to go hungry none or his kids to be without onna account of a harmless knuckle-duster." Good guy Gunther.

Jyri's eye widens as he sees the uncoming brawler brute, sort of wishing he had worn the rubicund after all. Expecting a headbutt in his stomach, he does get one and goes 'oof', the two tumbling to the ground. However, Jyri's good health and strength serves him well, there's a brief struggle and then he's headbutting his opponent right back. In the face. The man slumps on top of him so he pushes him off, standing up while rubbing his head.

Not easily offended, Harper just chuckles at the drunk in front of her, saying, "If by that you mean wife, then yep, I am. So not only am I duty bound to break this up, but I'm damn well not letting you tear up my home with your fighting." She just crosses her arms over her chest and grins, calling after the man, "I'll be sure Magpie knows you were smart!" Though she mutters under her breath, "After he gets out of the doghouse, that is." Gunther draws her attention over to him, and she says in a very wise and wordly fashion (not), "Huh? You robbing him, Gunther?!" Turning away from the one she's letting run away, she makes her way over toward Gunther, grinning, "Ohhh, teaching him a lesson are you?"

From out among the crowd there's some grumbling, and the sound of silver being exchanged. Some people won some bets, others lost them. The crowd disperses, leaving only the dazed (and vomiting) men by Jyri, Malcolm, and Gunther.



With all the action will anyone even notice the sound of liquid hitting stones from just around the corner of the Murder of Crows?

Harper checked perception at difficulty 15, rolling 7 higher.

Jyri checked perception at difficulty 15, rolling 5 lower.

"Oh, ain't no lesson he won't learn when he wakes with his ears ringin' and wonder what day it is and why he can't see out of his left eye what's swollen shut." Gunther smiles to Harper, "I coulda rolled 'em I suppose. There was a time I'd be gettin' all their coins and then marchin' in to that there establishment of your beaux and getting piss drunk." Likely the Gunther the lowers would love and adore, "But that was before my Sally. Fella like that when he wakes just got in his cups. Ain't no needs for those he loves to suffer. Ain't many of us here who ain't been in our cups before. Figure least I could do is love him when he ain't lovin' himself."

Malcolm checked perception at difficulty 15, rolling 6 lower.

Gunther checked perception at difficulty 15, rolling 2 lower.

As she starts over toward Gunther, Harper chuckles and shrugs, saying, "Gunther, there was a time that I was lifting coins where I could find them too. No fingers pointed here. Just don't do it now, yeah? You need money, then there's honest ways to get it for sure. And it sure sounds like your Sally was a woman after my own heart." She nods, adding, "I'll make sure his family gets it for sure." But she stops and tilts her head, holding up a hand to Gunther as she tries to listen with a frown on her head. Before she ever reaches Gunther, she turns on her heel and starts striding off toward the noise.

Harper doesn't have to go far to find one of the Usual Suspects, Jerry. He's got himself all fully on display and he's even humming quietly as he does his business. Like all of the others he's very drunk which was necessary for the amount of liquid that's hitting the side of the building.

Jyri doesn't hear a thing. He's adjusting his eyepatch that came a bit off kilter, and surveying the situation that seems well in hand. "Good times," he surmises contently, pulling his helmet back in place too. He squints at Gunther as he talks, but comments nothing on what's going on there, instead lofting an eyebrow at Harper as she starts off in another direction. "Come here," he tells the dogs and starts after her. "Looks like she's sniffing out more trouble."

"Uh -- yeah?" Malcolm's snapping his fingers, carefully hopping over the puddle of drunk vomit, the puddle of Summer piss and toward - er, well -- another kind. "Dunno who you are, but you're gonna be in trouble."

Gunther after this fight is going to pee on the watches the woman and smiles to her, "I ain't liftin' no coins. I gots a job and gonna make a career change soon." The man chuckles, "Onna account I'm gonna join the Knight of Solace as a squire." The oldest squire EVER. And then she is off to find the man pissing. Gunther who felt his old man's bladder full and ready was about to go to the other side of the building to pee himself.

Gunther watches the woman and smiles to her, "I ain't liftin' no coins. I gots a job and gonna make a career change soon." The man chuckles, "Onna account I'm gonna join the Knight of Solace as a squire." The oldest squire EVER. And then she is off to find the man pissing. Gunther who felt his old man's bladder full and ready was about to go to the other side of the building to pee himself.

Crossing her arms and just stopping a bit away from Jerry, Harper says casually, "Hello, Jerry. Nice pecker. Not as good as Magpie's, though, sorry. Which, I will be sure to tell him when I let him know that I've found who's been pissing on the side of the Murder and causing him, -and me-, all this grief." Though she tries very, very hard to hide the grin twitching at her lips, Harper just can't do it. The expression on her face doesn't look even the tiniest bit serious, though Jyri coming up behind her probably doesn't have such issues.

From behind the others, Malcolm laughs - loud, hard, and deeply. To the point where he literally slaps a hand against his side, and he asides toward Jyri, grinning with a boyish mischief. "She said pecker."

Of course, this being Magpie's place and Jyri and Magpie having this strange frenemy relationship, the Prodigal guard has no actual rush to stop any pissing here. So, he stalls it a bit, on purpose. Besides, Harper got this well in hand... so to speak. "Knights of Solace," he notes, glancing back to see where Gunther went. "Guessing this Jerry here is no candidate." He looks at Malcolm and snickers too. "She did! Hey Harper, can you say that again? It was great."

Jerry isn't putting his pecker away. Honestly, it's hard to stop peeing once one is started. Instead he'll just stare the guards looking at him right in the face and blink once, twice, and thrice. Just peeing. So much peeing. "Ain't breaking no law." Is he? It's anyone's guess. Others have come and they start backing up the other drunkards into a cart to be hauled away to the IRon Jail.

Gunther is sliding his shirt back on over his hairy torso. His face covered in slime and fish muck and a touch of his own spittle. "I hate when I get gussied up to go an' dance and then it's just a two-step." He chuckles, "Me hittin' them and them hittin' the floor." He sighs, "Ain't make them youngin's noggins what like they used to. Now they just fold at the first kiss."

Malcolm squeaks, trying SO hard not to start laughing again/ "Uh -- there's gotta be some rule about exposin your bits and pieces in public." With a look over his shoulder toward Gunther, his dark eyes go big an' wide. "That was GRAND t'watch. Can you teach that?"

Tossing a smirk over her shoulder at Malcolm and Jyri, Harper says wryly, "I am married. Reckon I know what one is called." But she doesn't oblige either man by saying it again. Looking back over to Jerry, she just lifts her shoulder in a slight shrug, saying, "Well, Jerry, there's a book of laws about yea thick at the barracks. You're welcome to read them if you wanna, but we did have a complaint here. So, I'm giving you friendly advice to find a piss pot next time, not the side of the Murder. Unless you really want me to drag you to apologize directly to Magpie. Cause that can definitely be arranged!" The grin on her face says that she's pretty convinced that he won't want her to drag him to talk to Magpie. She adds as an after thought, "Oh and if you don't want me telling Magpie, or more importantly poor Zavi who will probably end up cleaning this up, that it was you that did it... then get to scrubbing."

"Well, there's littering, destruction of property - pee is rather well known to be causing a rancid smell and you're doing it on someone's house - and if you keep this up, you're inciting a riot." Jyri says all this very confidently. He might just be making it up. "How about you fine him a hundred silver, seems fair," he suggests. Jyri LOVES fining people. He made nice money for the Guard back when he was doing more patrols like this. "Hey, I wouldn't mind a lesson or two either in fisticuffs."

Kenna GM Roll checked stamina(4) + athletics(4) at difficulty 10, rolling 41 higher.

Jerry's pissing slows and then stops. Keeping eye contact with Harper he finally packs it in one tiny button at a time. Then he's just going to spit at Harper and then take off running.

"Oh, I can teah you how to toss knucks, sure." The man answers, "But Iasks for a donation from thems that can affords it." He tells them, "Not much, whatever you can spare. I ask you got to a temple of the Pantheon of your choosin'. Give em' whatever coins you think it's worth." The man scratches the top of his head. He's like a transformer. Gunther's hand takes his comb over from being slicked back and directs it to the side. He transforms from fight'n Gunther to normal Gunther mode with a toss of the comb-over, "If you ain't got the scratch, that's okay. I ask you go an' sweep, whatever, just help out a little rather than that."

Yelling after Jerry, Harper says, "That's alright Jerry! I'll make sure Zavi knows whose piss he's cleaning up! And that Magpie knows whose caused our home to stink!" With a grin, she turns back toward the others saying, "So, Gunther, you got any tricks for someone who's little but keeps getting drug into fights with folks way bigger than her? Cause I don't like drawing out my sword when there's really no need for bloodshed, yeah?" Her earlier bad mood seems to have dissappated for the moment.

Galina, the glorious Graypeak Mountain dog leaves, following Malcolm.

"For you?" Gunther looks at Harper, "Reckon so. If it's a fella just land one square between the legs. Takes the fight out of em'. If it's a lass then you can do the same but it don't work quite as well. Least not for menfolk. Hard to find the right spot to get the same sort of fall over and roll around 'til you hurl your guts out. Spent my whole life with Sally... and took me a year or two of directions to master that whole bean. Ain't somethin' a fella can learn straight off I suspect." He then pauses, "But you want to toss knucks. I'll do it, no charge or nothin'. Onna account as you've been awfully nice to me."



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