Lizard Lunch at the Ox

Tenebrae - Sunday, September 29, 2013, 10:34 AM

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-=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=-<* A06: Ox-Strength Tavern *>--=--=--=--=--=--=--=--=-

The Ox-Strength Ale Tavern is known for being one of the most dangerous dives in the city. Frequented by the worst sailors, mercenaries, thugs and looters, the place is hardly the prettiest nor the tidiest of taverns, though--of late, that has been changing. Locals claim the once foul-tasting food "No longer burns the stomach--as much, anyways." Plates show signs of repair instead of cracks, though the still infamous odor of old beer and stale sweat insists on hanging about the place, and the smell of brine is near-constant.

What used to be bricked-up windows have been somewhat opened. Heavy bars let in a reluctant breeze and prevent the clanging of heads against glass (which seems nearly afraid to exist). Bloodstains adorn both the nearby walls and the bricks themselves from thrown patrons and fists.

The lights are dim, a few oil lamps hung from hooks in the splintered ceiling beams. A smattering of tables, scratched and carved into by many a blade, dot the expanse of the floor. Most of the tables are arranged in a wide circle to give plenty of room in the center of the bar for hasty escapes or the routine bar-brawl or fight. A worn-out steam piped stove sometimes provides warmth to the tavern. Occasionally an aging dog of some mangy breed or another can be seen sleeping near the stove or by the bar itself. Overhead the fireplace is a tribute to Rada, the patron of fishermen and rivermen everywhere.

Zalara ohs as she seems a little let down, but gives a smile, "Well that's good I hope you can cook better then the guy they have in there now." She shrugs, "Not that I come in here often, but just sometimes if they need something repaired."

Mel is at the bar, chatting with Zalara. He has a sort of sick look on his face as he answers her sincerely, "I really don't think it's possible to do worse." He ohs about her not coming here often, and admits, "I was ... it was implied, I guess, that you sort of run things here? Or ... is it not like that?"

Mikilos enters via the front door, pauseing a moment for his eyes to adjust before continueing inward towards the bar proper. A bit of caution might be standard for the OX, but this is typically a good time of day. Last nights drunks have all gone home, and todays drunks havn't gotten started yet. Of course, there's always a chance for an exception.

Zalara blinks and she shakes her head, "Nope I don't own the Ox if I did it'd look a lot better then this and the servers would all be automated and the food would be teleport out to you. It'd be much much different."

Mel's eye widen at Zalara's revelation, but he nods slowly. "That /would/ be a lot different," he agrees. "But then ... is it all right to just come in and start cooking for people? Not that I mind, really. It'd be a public service," he adds dryly.

Mikilos quirks a brow at Zalara as he takes a seat. "So you'd change everything that makes it the Ox? May as well start from scratch elsewhere." Grinning, he nods to Mel. "Utterly depends on who's cooking. Is very hit or miss. Mostly miss. But if the owner, Miss Myrana, is around, are likely to get some quality food."

Mel ehs to Mikilos, and then looks mortally embarassed as Mikilos mentions Myrana's name. "Ah, you're gonna kill me," he says to Zalara. "I think that might've been the name I was given. I'm really sorry. I saw you coming out of the kitchen and I assumed ..." He feels like a heel now.

Zalara shrugs a little bit, "If I wanted to make a restaurant I probably would just start from scratch. It's all right, it happens."

Mikilos chuckles softly, and shrugs. "It's hardly a normal sort of pub. You'd have to ask Myrana for the right of it, but as I understand the orginal Mister Oxley, previous owner, was a good guy. Rough and loud, but with a heart of gold. You know the sort. Sadly, his kinsmen are about the most horrible people you could every have the misfortune to meet and not be allowed to stab. They're rude, crude, ugly, smelly, ignorant, and dumb. But not technically evil. As I understand, upon Mister Oxley's passing, he left the bar to Myrana, on the provision she continue to employee the Oxleys, as no place else is going to ever hire them. So with that major handycap, she's done the best she may. She keeps the good booze locked up, as they water down anything they serve, even to each other, and anyone who cares to do so can make use of the kitchen, as it tends to keep the Oxleys out, and that's a good thing."

Mel oooOOoOoOOoOhhs as Mikilos explains. He nods gravely to Zalara, now understanding a bit more, and nods about starting from scratch. "It probably would be easier," he agrees, and now understands why the cooking position was considered open. Which leaves him where he was before, filling in as a public service. "I can do this, and I guess I probably should. I'm no raw recruit now, so I won't let them push me around, though it sounds like," he looks over to Mikilos, "like no one's going to object, not even them?" He eyes the barkeep and whichever other Oxleys are in sight.

Zalara listens to Mikilos as he tells the tale of the Ox-strength tavern. She hmms, "Well I hope you are ready for a rough and rowdy place."

Mikilos grins, and shrugs. "Should be fine. Booze are one thing, but for cooking, if you're doing it, means they don't have to put in the effort. If you dare call it effort. 'Food' is apparently anything put in a pot over heat and stirred at least once."

Mel smirks at Zalara, nods slowly. "I served in the war. I live rough and ready. At least here I won't have to pack up supplies and forcemarch twenty miles. I mean, I've seen worse." He peers towards the kitchen. "Mind you, some of the rumors about this place .... I haven't seen worse than. But I've seen worse that what I've actually -seen- here." He nods to Mikilos, "That's how I got started, as a cook's helper. I learned a bit past that, but .... how much heat, and how much stirring, and what all you put in, that's where you go from 'might as well eat poison' to 'better off hungry' to 'won't kill you', and all the way to 'not bad'." Apparently 'not bad' is as far as Mel goes, himself.

Zalara hmms, "Maybe, but you might have to throw punches with one hand and stir with another. That's why I always make sure to bring my death ray with me when I come here."

Mikilos grins, and shrugs. "Have you ever worked with owlbear before? Svar tends to bring his kills here, and for whatever reason, they tend to be owlbears. Perfectly edible, as much as any other meat, and quite tastey when done right. Just fair warning if there happens to be a large furry and feathered corpse on a hook back there."

Mel says to Zalara confidently, "It won't be the first time I've had to do that. Soldiers get onery when they have to wait, but I know enough to not serve food til it's properly cooked. Raw meat's as bad as an arrow in the gut." A look of recognition crosses his face at Mikilos's comment, and he says, "You know. That's exactly what happened to me a couple weeks ago, but not here. That little town north of here, I'd gotten work as a cook's helper, and this huge lizardman brought in, just like you said. And I /think/ that's what he said his name was. I'm sorry, I'm really bad with names."

Zalara hmms softly as she listens and she smiles, "I might have something to help you with that. I could make a piece of artifice that when you meet someone that will remember their face so all you have to do it point it at them the next time you meet them and it will tell you their name."

Mikilos laughs, and nods. "Certainly sounds like him. I don't know of any other Sith in the area with a habit of handing off corpse. I've no idea why owlbears though. Maybe he likes the flavor? Though come to think of it, seldom see him eat them himself, tends towards demon meat." He frowns mildly at Zalara. "Seems would be less effort to just remember, though admit I'm bad with names myself."

Mel nods to Mikilos, and admits to Zalara, "That sould be handy. You can do that?" He seems pleased by that idea. He explains, "In the army, generally someone was yelling at you what to do, and you did it, and then something different happend, and they'd yell something different, and it didn't matter who was who, you either gave them food, or did what they were yelling about." That sums up most of his military experience. "Or stabbed them," he tacks on. "But names don't come up in any of those cases," he observes. "So I never really got into the habit, you know?"

Zalara smiles, "Well I'd have to invent it first, but I'm sure it wouldn't be that hard. It only took a couple of months to get my map working." She frowns, "I wouldn't want to eat owlbear unless I had too. It doesn't look like it's be very appetizing."

Mikilos shrugs. "Never really got into military life. There was the Resistance in Sendor, and us Irregulars worked with the army, but wasn't quite the same." He nods to Zalara. "Takes some getting used to, but once is cut up and cooked, doesn't look funny, and tastes quite good, if a bit on the greasy side."

Mel winces about the owlbear, though he admits, "The cook seemed to accept it as a challenge. I didn't have a lot to do, I just helped carry it in, and the basic prep and so on. There was another fellow bringing meat in also, and so they hired me for the day to help the cook out." He says to Mikilos, "Yeah, the irregulars got all the really dangerous missions. But also the best rewards. And the best chance of getting home. Mind you, the best chance of having to be carried there, but ..." He laughs self-consciously.

Zalara hmms, "I was too young to join any of that sort of thing and I was stuck here during the Mists."

Mikilos nods with a frown. "I didn't do too many missions once we got to the city. Tended towards aiding logistics. Finding, gathering, and moving supplies into the city. Arcane components, mostly, though a large number of other things as well. Was memories of that time that goaded me into giving up eating, at elast as a regular thing."

Mel says guiltily, "I was a little young, but they took me anyhow, as a cook's helper rather than as a soldier, and they kept me out of most of the fighting. I think I got out -right- before the mists. Coming home ... didn't work out real well." He looks over at Mikilos, "You gave up eating? Er, how does that work?"

Zalara hmms, "Well there are magics that do sustain you without the need for food. Usually they are rings that you have to wear for a while and then you don't have to eat any more. Although I think I'd miss eating."

Mikilos nods, and taps a plain steel ring upon his finger. "I make a point to have a meal every week or so, just to keep in practice. Also cuts back on the amount of sleep I require, let's me keep up with my reading. Barely." The wizard does a -lot- of reading.

Mel nods in agreement with Zalara about not eating. "I think my stomach would get confused by not eating. I've heard of magic spoons, or was it a magic bowl that was always full of gruel?" He shrugs. When Mikilos points out the ring, he nods slowly. "I see. Magic ring, well, that makes sense." Mel is new enough to where 'magic ring' is an acceptable answer for nearly anything.

Zalara wrinkles her nose, "I think I'll skip on the magical gruel and the magic rings of no eating. It'd be just strange not eating every day although in an adventure I can see the advantage."

Mikilos nods to Mel. "Both exist. I made one of the spoons for someone shortly after the war. Keep meaning to make a flavor bowl one of these days. Bowl that casts an illusion of flavor over whatever is put into it." He nods to Zalara as well. "Has come in handy upon a few occasions, but is mostly in case there's ever a shortage again. Not the sort of thing that comes up often, but is memorible when it does."

Mel shrugs about the gruel. "Like I said, I've seen worse. We had to forcemarch one time, and we got ambushed on the way, and then forced to retreat, and didn't get to eat for about two and a half days. Guys were eating bugs and treebark, by then, and when we finally could cook, that's when some of the guys ate before it was cooked, and I couldn't stop them, and those guys were worse off than some of the wounded. A bowl that made gruel would have saved a lot of suffering, though we were lucky and didn't lose anyone from the food." He admits, "I like when I get to adventure with hunters. Most of them know how to prepare the game they catch, and then cooking's pretty straightforward. And they know what berries are good, and so forth."

Zalara hmms, "Makes me glad that I bring my own rations when I go out on an adventure." She makes her face and ughs softly, "Bugs and treebark, that really stinks. I don't think the army life would be for me."

Mikilos grins, and nods. "Have works with some who insist on delicate foods. Proper wine with just the right cut of meat, marinaded wiht only the proper sauce. Which I can sorta understand, it really does improve the quality of the food. But there quickly comes a point where I have to wonder if it's worth all the fuss."

Mel laughs and nods to Zalara. "I try to pack ahead when I know I'll be on the road a while. And yeah, I didn't really know what I was getting into, either, as it turned out. But I made it out alive, so that's a good thing." He nods to Mikilos, and admits, "Sometimes really good food can psych you up, or make you feel better about stuff. But sometimes, I think it's more about show than substance."

Zalara hmms, "Well better fresh food is better for you then stuff that's been sitting around for a while. I would think the same would go for bad food, it can lower your morale and not make you want to fight or make you weak and sick."

Mikilos nods. "'An army fights on it's stomach.' Or so I've heard. Not utterly true, but close enough to pay attention. Amazing how little details can make all the diffrence in the course of history. Know of more than once where an upset battle turned the tide of the war, and the battle was changed when a simple raid delayed suppy lines a few critical days."

Mel nods sincerely to Zalara. "That's a fact. When guys are starving, they don't want anything other than something to eat. It was pretty bad," he says with a sigh. He nods as well to Mikilos, "A few days with no food is enough to go from 'doing all right' to 'deep in the midden'."

Zalara nods, "I wonder which is cheaper to buy an army's worth of those rings or to just feed and transport all that food."

Ulharilti Wiivai has arrived.

Mikilos says, "Normal food, hands down. AMgic is convient, but wildly expensive. Can feed an army for weeks on the price of just one ring."

Mel boggles at an army's worth of magic rings. "I think one magic ring would pay a regiment for an entire year." He ohs to Mikilos, "I thought they'd be worth more. Er. Then again, I guess I don't know how much it costs to feed an army? Is it more than the pay?" He shrugs weakly. He, Mikilos, and Zalara are at the bar, chatting.

Zalara hmms, "I guess you are right, but still in a long campaign that's a lot of food. I guess war is expensive enough."

Ulharilti Wiivai enters the tavern with slow steps of unfamiliarity. The smells within speak of food and drink, but also many less pleasant odors. She approaches the bar and the sounds of conversation.

Mikilos chuckles, and shrugs. "Rather depends how large and army you mean. A few hundred men, or thousands? Also varies wildly with how well they're fed." Glancing up, he smiles, raiseing a hand in greeting.

The food and drink here -are- the less pleasant odors. Mel nods to Zalara and Mikilos, "Yeah, I was never involved at that level. I just cooked what they brought me, you know?" He looks up, nods to the recent arrival.

Zalara nods, "True enough, again makes me glad I was never in the army and I'm gonna try to avoid it if I can."

"Greetings," Ulharilti responds to Mikilos and his gesture, and those nearby in general. "What army do you speak of?" She only caught portions of the discussion.

Mikilos waves vaugely. "In the last bit, any army in general. though the only one I've had experience with was during the Sendor War."

Mel says guiltily to Ulharilti, "I was just telling some stories about stuff that happened during the war. Not so brave and heroic as the missions the Guild went on," he adds hastily. "Like some of the recent events. I heard they finally got that damned cannibal pirate, though. Stuck his head up on a pike, and well done!"

Ormarr has arrived.

Zalara nods, "I heard that. I would have loved and gone to see what their base was like or see one of their submersibles. I wonder if there are any that we captured that I could take a look at."

"Hell, there. Badger, get tha door, will you?" A heavyset, if older, oruch stumps into the Ox. He wears an old hide and part of his tusk is missing. Chipped or broken a long time ago, and the edges now worn smooth. Behind him a large beast, as big as a man, pokes its head through.

And sniffs.

The oruch, unconcerned, stumps over towards the tables--one a little further from the fireplace, as that's probably crowded on a day like this one.

Mikilos nods to Zalara. "I know at least one was captured, is how the team was inserted into the base in the first place. What, if anything, was captured from the base itself I don't know. As I understand, not a great deal. Several team members were killed in the battle."

"I know of battle, but not wars with great armies," Ulharilti admits, "but its good to know the pirate is dead. Thieves deserve no less." Another entering conpicuously turns her head and draws her attention briefly.

Mel shrugs to Zalara about the submeribles. "They fired the spell cannon, too," he supplies. "So probably not much left." He nods agreement with Ulharilti, then winces at Mikilos's news, and agrees, "I'd heard that, too." He looks over towards Ormarr, but he can't really object to pets after hearing about how the Oxleys maintain the place. He hasn't actually looked into the kitchen.

Zalara smiles, "I know wasn't that amazing. I love to see the spell cannon get fired. It's such an amazing piece of artifice. I wish they would let me study that too."

The fuzzed face yawns and leans back as though stretching its body, before ambling into the Ox. It settles against one of the walls and towards the shadows. Out of the way, and looking tired...or just plain lazy. There's bits of ice and frost on its giant paws. The weather outside is getting worse. Its partner gives a nod, then takes a closer look. A smile blooms over the older oruch's face, "Now you look familiar," he says to Mel, then grins. "But that might just be tha drink talkin. Me and the lads had a right party here a few days ago. ...evenin," he says to the rest. "An sorry if I'm interruptin anything."

Lahar has arrived.

Mikilos frowns at the mention of the Spell Cannon. "I just worry as to it's misuse. Has been fired, what, three times now? Once to fell a flying city, once to try and defy the gods, and now to destory a pirate base. One out of three isn't such good odds." He smiles to the oruch, and waves vaugely. "No no, feel free to join, if you like."

Ulharilti Wiivai snorts. "Magic cannot replace warriors, even giant magical weapons."

Mel wonders idly, "So what does the spell cannon actually do? I mean, does it shoot big spells at people? Or cities? Like I've seen a few different spells, some for healing, some for blowing things up. What would happen if you used the spell cannon to fire a healing spell? Or is it like a cannon, and it's magical, so it's called a spell cannon even though it's not actually shooting spells?" And that aimless rumination is cut short by Ormarr. He uhhhhs, "I'm not sure, sir? But I'm Mel, if that helps?"

"Heh. I'd like to. It's damn good to get out of tha cold like it is." The oruch stomps his feet a few times to demonstrate, then. "But I promised that one supper," a job over a broad shoulder at the sleeping creature, "And as he's been behavin lately, figure I ought to honor my end of the bargain. And it's Ormarr, Ormarr of the Fire Reavers. ...and I believe so, but if it is, it's been a while," to Mel. He holds out his hand. "Either case, good to meet all of ya." He'll be on his way, soon.

Zalara hmms, "Well from what I understand it gathers up a large amount of mana and it fires it at the target. I'm not sure if it could be used for healing spells. I'm not familiar with the specifications of it."

Mikilos frowns to Mel. "Properly, it's a Planar Disjunction Cannon. It rips a hole in reality, and lets the pieces crash to bits as they come back together. I imagine if used frequently, it would tear the planar fabrics near itself. So far, they've been able to heal again between fires. So far."

Ormarr gives the sildanyari a LOOK. It's a look that says: I just walked in on a discussion about the end of the world. He shakes hands where he can, then stumps over to the bar, instead. To order some 'food.'

And now a hefty drink.

Ormarr has left.

It IS cold, and as things continue, the rain begins to pick up. Another man comes into the Ox. He looks around, his expression somewhat harried. He wears a tattered overcoat and a pair of workman's boots. He moves over to join what promises to be a growing number around the fire.

Mel ers, nods to Ormarr, and goes over to shake the man's hand hesitantly. "It's been a while," he agrees earnestly. He looks over his shoulder to Zalara, and then Mikilos as they explain the Spell Cannon in a mouthful of words. He ohs! "So no healing, I expect."

Ulharilti Wiivai did not know the details of the weapon, and still does not wholly understand... but she can infer enough of the dangers. "If this weapon is so dangerous, it could destroy the city they want it to protect. That is foolish." She focuses on Mikilos, as he appears to be the expert.

Mikilos nods in agreement, and sighs. "I was content to leave it pertified, or torn down altogether. But such choices are not mine to make, and it -is- quite a thing to cause hesitation to any who might attack the city. Though I think it draws hostile attention as well."

The door opens a few more times. When it does it shows an onrush of rain. Not long after, you hear the tink, then thud of sleet beginning to build. A fair-haired sildan makes her way in, hurriedly, cold air blowing into the Ox behind her. It comes in as a sudden, wet gust that jerks at clothing, cools the skin.

Zalara nods, "Yah probably not any healing. Although that doesn't mean that artifice is only used for destructive purposes. I know some contraptions that can be used to heal the body as well as any cleric spell."

Ulharilti Wiivai is about to mention that no one would find a giant cannon in the jungle, when the chill air and sounds of sleet remind her of other things not present at home. She scowls, showing some teeth for a moment as she adjusts her cloak after its blown about.

Mel is sort of mindboggling about the Spell Cannon. "That is a less scary name," he agrees. "Planar Disjunction, you said? That just plain sounds bad." He looks up at the onrush of cold air and shivers. "I wish I'd sat closer to the heath now."

Mikilos nods to Zalara. "And a necromancer doesn't -have- to be a twisted freak with a death fetish. But such are the exception to the general rule." Glancing up, he peers a moment at the most recent arrival. Fair and sildan aren't terms to describe the average parton. Mikilos isn't average, so he doesn't count.

The door opens and closes a few more times. By now, patrons have started to move away from the door--the seats near that opening are getting sparse. At least. Except. Well, the drunken oruch who's a little too stooped over his cups to care.

Mel is leaning towards the hearth, himself, but had stayed by the bar, near the kitchen entrance, which is where the original chat with Zalara had started earlier. To Zalara, he asks, "I know you just fixed the oven, but ... it seems really cold in here, this early in the year. Maybe a heating system that works for more of the room?" He pulls his cloak close around him, and orders a hot drink from the bar, against his better judgement.

The door to the kitchen swings open, and a heavyset man stump-walks out. He has a sort of piggish look to his face, and... "Oiy! Damnit, Ben! This soup's cold!"

"What'd you do to it?"

"Look..."

Silence, after that.

Ulharilti Wiivai notes that more and more move indoors. "The cold and wet overpowers the smell." She cannot blame them, as she also appears less than fond of the current weather. The sudden announcement of cold food is also a concern, as she also considered requesting a meal, if just for the warmth.

Mikilos nods to Mel, and frowns. "I've plans to fix up the place a bit, replace most of the walls with solid stone. But thus far it hasn't gotten any further than talks and planning."

The piggish-faced man stumps back into the kitchen--that door swings shut behind him. In its wake, a billow of hot, humid air and the sound of liquids boiling.

"It was hot! I served it--"

"Well, it ain't now! Look, what'd you do? Blow on it?"

"...it's ice."

After that, there's quiet.

Zalara hmms, "They just asked me to fix the cooking stove which I did I don't know anything more about why the heating system isn't working they didn't ask me to comve over and fix that." She looks over towards the kitchen. "There is nothing wrong with the oven I fixed it."

<<Quiet, except for the brush of something past your toes. You look, and there's a long, blue-ish form scuttling away, almost too fast to be seen.>>

Mel waves off the hot drink after the man comes out with his hot soup .. frozen. "Something's going on," he suggests. "I mean, something stranger than normal." He thinks about that. "Even for here." He looks between the kitchen and Zalara, "Something's definitely up..."

Ulharilti Wiivai feels another draft, but now the door is not open. She glances down and abruptly lifts clawed toes from the floor, startled. "What is that?!" A claw attempts to point at a blue ...something rapidly scurrying across the floor.

Mikilos jumps a bit himself. "That's... not Rum. Er..." He blinks, mildly distracted, and mentions to Mel. "Rum is Myrana's cat. Little like a moldy potato with legs. He's harmless."

Once Ulharilti points out, it's easier to see--just hard to pin down, given how fast its moving. A small thing, no larger than a boot, rushes past your feet again. It darts from one side of the Ox to the other, bringing a wake of cold with it.

Zalara hmms as she pulls down her goggles and she starts to look around, "Just give me a moment and I'll see what's up."

Ulharilti Wiivai has not seen anything like it, and didn't see it well to begin with. She does recall her mentor's tales, even if she was reluctant to listen, however. "It is some type of sprite of Winter?" The fact that it brings cold with it is a key clue to her, but she remains far from certain as she tries to answer her own question. With frosted toes.

The wake of cold blossoms in frost, coating the floor and udnerside of the bar. Some of you are able to tough it out. Others, not so much, and the reptilian-thing (it looks sort of like a lizard, just blue) has scuttled off underneath some of the tables. Not that anyone notices.

"I TOLD ya--!"

"Well, learn to cook!"

The sounds come from the kitchen, where the argument seems to be picking UP.

GAME: Mikilos rolls knowledge/nature: (5)+10: 15

Mel gasps, "Hey, wait...." He looks around, then points back to the kitchen, "Stuff sounds like boiling there, how'd the soup get cold?" He looks to Mikilos and wonders, "Rum? A cat?" And he's now fairly confused and worried. "What's going on?" he asks, his confusion mounting. He looks to see if Zalara has figured anything out.

<<There it is. It ran underneath one of the tables. The table's owned by a heavyset giantborn and his friend, who look in the middle of their dinner. Except...is that one in the rafters, too? And one near the... The word 'infestation' comes to mind. Well, it IS the Ox.>>

Mikilos frowns thoughtfully, picking his feet up and propeing them upon a strut of his chair, out of the way. "A blue lizard... cold... I'm sure I've read something on that somewhere... I- oh. Hey. There's more of them." The wizard points out a second lizard in the rafters. "And was another by the door. Not sure where it scurried off to." Frowning more, Mikilos rises, and heads towards the kitchen door. "Hey guys, what -exactly- was tonights Special supposed to be?" Strange lizards had to come from -somewhere-.

Zalara hmms as she looks around the room and she looks up at the rafters with her detect magic goggles on. She hmms as she takes them off and she rubs her chin, "I wonder what they are. Maybe if we catch one we can identify it."

In the kitchen? The argument continues before the pig-faced man comes busting out. He slams some of the bowls in front of you. They're...cold, with bits of frost around the edges of the liquid...not quite ice, but getting there. "Look, it's uh. Supposed to be like that that. Yeah." He smiles his best smile, and it's obvious he's lying. He looks a little panick'd around the eyes.

That's when the giantborn from another table over jerks back in his chair. "That's cold!"

"Just part of the entertainment!" says the panick'd staff.

"Well I don't see no bard!"

Mel is starting to panic. "Guys, what's going on here? Adventures are supposed to happen when they hire you and you go out to do stuff. Not while your sitting and eating supper." At the word that there are lizards causing all this, and at Zalara's prompting, he hops up onto his chair and fishes a bag of something out from his pack. Those in the know may recognize a tanglefoot bag. But he can't quite see what to throw at yet. "If you see one, let me know?"

Zalara smiles, "I'll help get it." She heads towards the one that's under the table of the giantborn, "If you'll just get up for a moment I'll try to catch this one for you so that it doesn't bother you any more." She looks towards Mel, "Be careful with that you'll more likely to tangle up someone else then the creatures."

When Mel speaks up, the soup-server comes hurriedly back. He's not a graceful man and his apron is covered in old stains. He leans over the bar and whispers: "L-look. I don't know what's going on here. ...but if you can take care of it, WITHOUT destroyin tha family business I'll uh. Free drinks. For the rest of the week." He then looks over his shoulder at the giantborn. The giantborn iso even now is getting drunkenly to his feet. "The month!" he whispers, hoarsely, as Zalara takes off.

Some of the other patrons are staring at the giantborn. It's only moments until this thing blows wide open.

Mikilos sighs, and heads towards the relitively empty front near the door. "Oh don't panic, they're just... just... damn, I knew it a moment ago... anyway, pretty sure they're mostly harmless." The elf grabs a table, draging it a few feet before moving the chairs as well, clearing out a bit of space. "EXCUSE ME, PEOPLE! Pelase do not touch the Flaming Ball of Death. You will die. And while you will deserve it, it makes a lot of paperwork for me, so don't do it." Space cleared, and warning given, the wizard does what he does best. He casts a spell.

GAME: Mikilos casts Flaming Sphere.

"There is more than one?" Ulharilti spares a few seconds from looking around for the thing to glance at the others. "I can help cature it. I don't think it is vile, only full of mischief."

GAME: Mikilos rolls diplomacy: (10)+8: 18

Mel looks at the barman, and hesitates before telling the man what he thinks of the beer. Which would be kinder if it hadn't been for what he saw the other fellow doing with the glasses earlier today. That's not washing when you spit in it and rub it around with a rag. "Uh, sure," is how he actually replies, because he's sort of a punching bag that way. And then there's a big flaming sphere. He ahems, and says helpfully, "Ah, that's just what we need to warm up, yes!?" He goes over and makes with the handwarming, a crooked smile on his face.

Zalara looks over towards Mikilos and she rolls her eyes at the wizard. "Stupid wizard...." She mutters under her breath as she goes after to catch one of the lizards, "Thinking they can solve everything with fire."

Mikilos summons a large ball of fire, right in the middle of the bar. Well, not really the middle, it's pretty much towards the side. And while perhaps impressive at first, it really doesn't do anything more than sit there. Sorta like a really odd fireplace. Perfectly safe, really. Rolling his eyes, the elf gives Zalara a look. "Now that's just an unfair steriotype. Everyone knows that some things need Lightning Bolts."

Ulharilti Wiivai's eyes go wide when the large ball of fire appears. "Are you mad?" She keeps one eye towards Mikilos and the fire while she returns to looking for the winter lizard(s).

The pig-faced man pales. He definitely looks to be reconsidering his offer. "I said not destro--!" Then Mikilos mentions lightning bolts and his mouth clamps shut like a fish-trap. "Look, just don't burn the place down. And we can't afford to lose any more business!"

"That ain't no bard!" roars the giantborn again, and draws his foot back. He's totally going to try kicking it. And he looks very, very muscled.

Overhead, one of the reptiles flicks its tail and runs along the rafter, away from the source of fire. Another runs across the sith's foot, but there's no rush of cold, this time. Just a feeling of it.

Mel does not need any particular skill at lying to add panic to his voice, but he'll try and fake the giantborn out before he can immolate himself. "Sir! Lookout behind you!" And he points past the man's shoulder while speaking as urgently as possible.

Ulharilti Wiivai lunges down at the one that scurries by her foot. For a half second, she thinks she has a hold of its tail, but it slides free. "Stay still!" She growls at the very cold blooded reptile.

Mikilos watches the lizards, or at least tries to keep an eye on them, as he waves vaugely at the pig-faced man. "Oh don't fret. We checked it all last week. The floor is almost fireproof. So long as no flames get into the rafters, it'll be fine." Blinking thoughtfully at Ulharilti, the elf answers. "I'm a wizard." As if that clears anything up. And then there's a large man about to kick his Sphere. "Ah- no- that- don't- ...oh balls."

The blue-scaled fey doesn't listen. Eyes wide at the sight of the larger sith, it runs away as quickly as possible, past the giantborn and back underneath the table. It gives the fire a wide berth.

At the phrase, 'I'm a wizard,' several of the patrons look at one another, then hurry out the door. The staff/server makes a strangled noise.

Mel's shout has at least served as a distraction to the giantborn. "Look, maybe this is a bad time to suggest it," he says reasonably, "but kicking fire never works. And sometimes you burn your foot. And then there's all the yelling ...." So far, the giantborn doesn't look convinced so much as distracted.

Zalara is all ready under the table so when the one comes skiddering back she goes to make a grab for it. "Gotcha now!"

GAME: Mel used a Tanglefoot Bag.

Zalara grabs the one under the table and it's cold to the touch, but it's a good thing she has gloves on. She moves out from under the table and sits in a chair. She tries to set it in her lap and gently pet it. "Calm down, it will be okay."

Mel isn't sure about under the table, but there's one, no two in the rafters, and it looks like a clear place for a tanglefoot bag. At least he won't be getting any of the patrons! He lobs it! The bag expands with a blort, sticky mess going all over both of the lizards. The one closer to the edge struggles to get away, but the other is caught, solid.

Mikilos looks mildly offended as people flee before his pronunciation, but lets it slide, instead sitting down on the floor, a bit closer to lizard level. Blinking distractedly, he makes a gesture, and the ball of flame winks out. Maybe, just maybe, it's a problem of communication? Speaking in the Sylvan language, he tries. "<<Excuse me. I am sorry. I couldn't recall if fire was good or bad. Please, calm->>" And then they are captured. "...eh, probably can't understand anyway..."

Ulharilti Wiivai is prepared to overturn the table, if necessary, but it proves unnecessary. The human catches the one, and she looks up in time to see one, no two, caught overhead.

The frost-born reptiles flick out their tongues. They stare at everything and nothing, and look ready to make a break for it...

"Kill them! Kill them!" it's the staff member, hoarsely. Of course, everyone can hear him. "Look! I've got a frying pan. It's big. Just...get it out of here! Get them OUT!"

Zalara can see the reptile under her squirming and she gets up as it's really cold holding it. She starts to head towards the door so she can let it go as no wild thing should be confined against it's will. "I'm sorry I hope you find a good home, maybe if I take you to a druid they'll know what to do with you."

Mel will push a table over towards the wall, so he can climb up into the rafters after the one's he's caught. Though he's not sure it's a good idea. "So, just getting them out? What if they come back in?" he wonders.

Mikilos heads to intercept Zalara. Not to stop her, but to get a good look at the thing. Maybe the details will jog his memory.

GAME: Mikilos rolls knowledge/nature: (6)+10: 16

"I don't care!" the pig-faced man is starting to panic, now. No, he WAS panicking. And he has that frying pan. And a wild, wild look in his eyes!

"I will help you," Ulharilti moves towards Mel. She pauses on the way to turn and growl at the pig-faced human, teeth baring and ear-frills flaring. "You will NOT kill it!"

<<This is one of the Oxleys. He's a horrible person. XD >>

Zalara looks at Mikilos as she continues to head out, "Yes?" she asks as she holds the reptile so it won't bit her. She hmmms as she looks around, "Is there an empty large cauldron we could put them in so they can be easily transported?"

"AAAUUUGH!" goes the pig-faced man. He doesn't move. He just looks frustrated. "Get it out of here! Get it--yes, cauldron! I'll get you one of those!" with a last, wary look at the large sith, he runs back into the kitchen.

A few moments later, there's a loud clunking sound. Then a thunk. An argument breaks out inside the kitchen before the server walks back into the room with an old, battered cauldron. He shoves it at Mel. "Here, here! Here it is. Just don't tell Myrana we lent you the damn thing..." He pauses. "Or about the lizards. Definitely don't mention the lizards."

Mel will help with the cauldron, though right now he's got to peel two struggling lizard things off the wall, still with the tanglefoot mess stuck to them, and get them ready to be transported. He tugs on gloves, and gets up onto the table.

Mikilos frowns at the lizard, and shrugs. "I'm -sure- I've read something about these lizards... but I don't recall any of the details... though come to think of it, think was the time Renkilspoon set himself on fire... was a bit of a distraction. Mah, I'll look it up again later." The elf rummages through his pack a few moments, but the best he can offer is a thick blanket.

Ulharilti Wiivai assists Mel with peeling the lizards from the ceiling and getting them into the cauldron, if her aid is needed. Otherwise, she observes, with one eye saved for the human in case he gets eager with the frying pan again.

Mel gets the tanglefooted lizards into the cauldron with Ulharilti's help, and, while he's fine with smacking them with a frying pan, cause he's a city boy, he will save them for the moment. "Okay," he says, hopping down from the table. "Now what?"

Lahar has left.

Mikilos grumbles softly. "Could take them to the College. We've a number of unusual animals on campus, I'm sure can find some sort of habitat. I don't -think- they're really dangerous, but just letting them go might not be the best idea. Not until we know -where- to let them go, anyway."

Zalara gets the lizard that she has into the cauldron as it comes out and she shakes her head, 'No we'll take them to the druids, they know the most about animals, the college will probably just want to experiment on them.

Mel nods vehemently about not just letting them go. "I don't care what we do with them," he declares. "Wizards, druids, we could take one to each, and another for the Artificers so they're not left out."

"They are creatures of the wild, of the elements," Ulharilti reminds everyone. "They belong in the wild."

Mikilos shrugs. "Druids might know, -if- they're a natural animal. And druids are a longer walk. But if you're set, I won't oppose going to the druids first."

Zalara nods, "Yes let's go to the druids first, that sounds good to me."

Mel shrugs about the druids, "Sounds good to me."