Old Krankskee's Tavern (Colosseum of Death's BS Thread)

[Ieagleroar]

Located just north of Colosseum, Old Krankskee's Tavern aids in quenching the thirst of spectators and combatant alike. During the Colosseum season, combatants can often be found in here, boasting of their abilities, and giving recounts of their triumphs.

The atmosphere is rather laid back, considering these activities. A big 'No Voilence' sign hangs behind the bar, along with a wide collection of alcohol. Their bottles slightly reflect the flames from the fireplace, located on the other side of the establishment. Between them, three tables sit, suitable for 12 people each. A ladder leads to the upper floor, hanging just off the wall with the bar. In the darkest corner of the bar, a dark drunk man slumps in his chair, half asleep. Local legend has it, that the combatants who pick up his tab tend to do quite well. Of course, few can afford it...

[Toro]

Battlebot walks into the bar, orders a drink, and lay's down some cash.
The Bartender says, "We don't serve robots."
Battlebot replies, somewhat menacingly, "Oh, but someday you will." :smallbiggrin::smallbiggrin::smallbiggrin:

After their exchange, Battlebot finds a seat at the closest table to the bar and sits.

[Morcleon]

Rozen Sabel
https://img00.deviantart.net/c870/i/2016/338/9/d/nero_claudius_by_ry_thae-daqj1j4.png
Striding confidently into the bar is a beautiful young woman. Her hair is golden and her eyes blazing green. Her dress is provocative, but with a clearly military aesthetic. She holds herself with an air of one who is afraid of nothing and who always succeed. She is Rozen Sabel.

"Bartender! A blueberry mimosa, if you will!" She sits down next to Battlebot and grins. "Hello friend. You must be another fighter here, yes? Quite interesting, having a construct like you around."

[Rizban]

HugeArms "Beefcake" McBeatstick

https://i.pinimg.com/564x/27/52/53/27525371da487fffdf7985ad0456e11e.jpg
A massive, heavily muscled mountain of a man enters the tavern, slamming the door open. His roving eyes pass over the crowd searching out his opponent, Julien Cronmeir. Failing to spot the coward, the brute throws himself down in a chair against the wall and leans it back, balancing on its hind legs. Crossing his arms over his hairy chest, he planned to wait. The little milk drinker would make an appearance soon enough. If not, well, he would make certain that blood would flow on the sands.

[Rocks_Fall]

Fizzle

https://img00.deviantart.net/9272/i/2015/060/3/1/mystic_tiger_by_raph04art-d8k00md.jpg
A faint scratching sound comes from the door to Krankskee’s, gradually growing louder and louder. One of the more inquisitive patrons staggers to his feet and opens the door. A large tiger dives past him, bowling him over as it enters the building. Shaking it’s head as it stops to stretch, the and stripes of the beast have a faint blueish hue, one that you could almost swear was glowing. It’s eyes also seem to share that same sapphire quality, an animal intelligence looking at you all and sizing up the room. It’s gaze settles on the fireplace and he paces forward towards it, before settling down comfortably in front of the flames, blocking most of the heat from the rest of the tavern.

[Toptomcat]

https://www.toonzone.net/news/images/2006-09/TickEvilMidnightBomber.jpg

The man who next walks into the Tavern is a bit of a mess. He is a madly grinning, unshaven middle-aged man in a red leisure suit unzipped low enough to reveal a hairy chest. He wears a green skullcap with a literal white skull on it, carries a suitcase prominently labeled with the word 'BOMBS', and seems to be ceaselessly muttering to himself in a fashion that comes off as somewhat unhinged.

"And he says to me, he says to me, you got Style, baby! but if you're gonna to be a real villain you gotta get a gimmick…and so I go I says Yeah Baby! A gimmick, that's it! High Explosives!

Ah ha ha ha ha ha!!!"

[Ieagleroar]

Kranskee rolls his eyes at the wisecracking robot. There's one every year. he thinks.

Receiving the order the 'Blueberry Mimosa' he quickly sets to work. Grab a bottle from the shelf, he looks around for a champagne glass, until deciding a pint glass would have to do. Mixing the ingredients in precise proportions with the deft movements of a man much younger than 75 years of age, he finishes the concotion, and then moseys along to the young women's table. Presenting her with pint glass full of a brown liquid, he begins to explain:
Yeah, I didn't have any blueberries, so
I replaced them with whiskey. Oh, same with the champagne. I'll just go ahead and put it on the Colosseum's tab. He then returns to the bar.

[Toro]

Battlebot examines the woman before him. His analysis provides him with a result of 'No Discernable Threat.'

Me? A fighter? No... I just come here for the excellent service! He replies tongue-in-cheek. Well he would if he had a tongue... or a cheek. As for being a construct... I'm technically a living construct. You see, constructs are just hunks of metal. Living constructs are so much more. Probably why you find me so... He smirks and winks interesting.

[Rizban]

HugeArms "Beefcake" McBeatstick

From two tables over, the burly man laughs derisively at Battlebot and shouts over to him.

"She know what a 'forged be. Ya be nothing new. We be see'n you lot all over tha place these days. Some 'arty fly sir' get all uppity like, makes hisself a bunch of clanks what can think, and now you all thinks you be people. She likely only be interested 'cause she know your kind be not rightly equipped. Ha!"

[Toro]

After the large man finishes talking, Battlebot nods slightly in the man's direction and smirks at the woman, "Ahh, I love how competition always brings out the best in people. He pauses briefly, and then changes tone and asks the woman, Say, you wouldn't happen to be Obsidian, would you?

[Rizban]

HugeArms "Beefcake" McBeatstick

"What kind o' weird question be that? She be flesh 'n blood, ya daft clank!"

[LairdMaon]

"I once held obsidian in my hand.
It was crafted to be the killing tool of an ogre." The silver-winged man-form takes a seat at the bar."Though it was pretty, the obsidian proved useless in it's only task. It took three of us to end the ogre. My best friend was lost thanks to that stone." He flags down the barkeep, "I'll need two of your harder drinks."

[Rizban]

"Three to kill an ogre? Must'a be some ogre! That or you be little kiddos at tha time.

Shame 'bout ya friend though."

[LairdMaon]

"Big ogre, and we were still young.
I'm pretty sure it was a setup. We discovered a while later that the 'cleric' had been working with the ogre. That 'cleric' is the one that gave us the obsidian piece. I've been looking for him since."

[Ieagleroar]

Krankskee hears Created-then-Born order, and gets to work. First he grabs two shot glasses, then goes to the fridge. Reappearring from the fridge, he plinks in two ice cubes. He then makes his way the man's table.

There you go sir. Hardest drinks we got. He sets down the two glasses in front of Created-then-Born. In each seems to be a single, solid brown ice cube.
It's just like normal whiskey. Krankskee explains, but harder 'cause I've let it freeze. I'll just go ahead and put it on the Colosseum's tab. He then returns to the bar.

[Celsius]

The door to the tavern swings open, and a small figure totters in slowly and painfully.

"A cup of tea, please. With mint. No sugar. And a spoonful of honey." Obsidian calls out in a quavering voice to Krankskee, before retreating to the fire to warm his bones. Only to find his spot occupied by what appears to be a very large cat.

"Shoo, shoo, my pretty," Obsidian's gnarled hands make a shooing motion, attempting to get Fizzle to get out of the way.

https://i.pinimg.com/564x/f9/1a/00/f91a009ba7f996383fbf2eb76a50f059.jpg

[Rizban]

HugeArms "Beefcake" McBeatstick

"Bah! I have no more time to wait around. The coward Julien didn't bother to show his face before the fight. I wonder if he'll be capable of showing his face later when I'm done with him."

Standing to his feet and knocking the unsteady chair to the floor, Beefcake saunters out the door and towards his match in the arena.

[Rocks_Fall]

Fizzle

The tiger slowly opens one glowing orb and stares intensely at Obsidian. With a crack like a whip, his tail knocks the hat from Obsidian’s head and the eye closes once again. After a moment, a deep purring reverberates throughout the building.

[Ieagleroar]

Krankskee strains to hear Obsidian's quiet voice. Old age, bad hearing, and a soft-spoken customer doesn't mix well. However, by the end of the order, Krankskee had worked out what Obsidian wanted. He grabbed a mug, and a set about looking for a spoon. He he then produce a bottle of honey, and a few other bottles, and began pouring an mixing. He worked precisely, knowing his living depended on serving these contestants well.

When he was finished, he brought the mug to the creature by the fire. So, I wasn't exactly sure if you said 'Tea', Krankskee began to explain or 'Tennessee'. However, Tennessee made more sense, so I poured you a mug of our finest Tennessee whiskey. I must say it's quite a concoction you drink: normal whiskey, with mint whiskey and honey whiskey as well. But each to their own. I'll just put it on the Colosseum's tab.He leaves the mug with Obsidian and returns to the bar.

[Toro]

Battlebot pushes away from the table, and walks to the dark stranger. Pulling up a chair, he sits, and and leans back. Word on the street is... you're the man to talk to if you want to win this competition.

[Rizban]

HugeArms "Beefcake" McBeatstick returns only and handful of minutes later.

"Bahamas! Hardly even a fight. Didn't even break sweat."

[Morcleon]

Rozen Sabel

Sweeping back into the taven, Rozen takes a seat back next to her drink and glances over to HugeArms with a chuckle. "Yours too? I dearly hope that my next opponent will put up a solid fight. Indeed, he even had the audacity to complain that I talk too much! Imagine that. Me. Talking too much."

She takes another drink of the whiskey and sighs. "I talk the exact right amount, after all. And I would like an opponent who would have at least a little bit of in-fight banter. Is that too much to ask?"

[Rocks_Fall]

Fizzle

The purring stops abruptly as the tiger raises it's head, eyes staring at the door and ears swiveling to catch a sound only it seems to hear. With a soft growl it rises and stretches, dragging its claws through the wooden floor. Slowly, it moves towards the entrance and sits by the door, scratching intently at the closed exit.

[LairdMaon]

"I do believe I'm being called for my fight. Different opponent then I initially thought I'd been set against." Crafted-Then-Born tosses back the hard drinks and walks out the door.

[Rocks_Fall]

Fizzle

The tiger stops scratching as the silver man opens the door and following him out, tail slapping at the door to slam it shut.

[Ieagleroar]

The dark stranger looks down into his drink as Battlebot talks to him, then replies, "No, No, No. I can't help you! Too much stress! So much stress! Where am I going to get money from? Too many drinks! Too much stress!"

[Toro]

Battlebot was afraid of that. The man seemed to be bargaining for his services with his bar tab, and unfortunately, due to Battlebot's believes, any monetary price would be to high.

However, Battlebot was made to win battle, and this seems to be the same scenario, just with a different way to win. He thought about threatening the man, but decide against it. He probably was too drunk to care. He looked back through his memory, looking for any possible solution. Suddenly, the solution came to him.

He called over Old Krankskee. When the bartender arrive he began to speak, "My friend here says he's in quite the pickle with his bar tab. Apparently he doesn't seem to be able to pay it. Obviously, this is a big problem for you, because I sure he owes you a lot of money. I still have to do my good deed for the day, so I want you to transfer his entire tab to my tab. Of course, don't trouble yourself with a lot of unduelly paperwork, writing me a new tab and all. Just charge it to the wonderful benefactor who is paying for all my drinks; the Colosseum. With that, Battlebot looks expectantly at the stranger.

[Ieagleroar]

https://m.youtube.com/watch?v=B12eVCBbGsw

Old Krankskee thought over Battlebot's proposal. He had a point, this man had been sitting in the dark drinking for weeks, and now had a tab well over $1000 dollars. This was probably the only way he's see the money... Whatever you two want to work out is fine by me. I just want to have my customers pay they're bills, and the Colosseum always does. I wouldn't go spreading the word though... the Colosseum might not take kindly to it.

The stranger sits up in his seat, and surprises Battlebot with how sober he 'suddenly' appear. He says in a hushed whisper. "Thanks kid. Let's cut the crap now; every year people come to beat each other up in this arena. And every year, the committee just matches people up randomly. They declare it's the fairest way; sure they could subject the contestants to a lot of tests, but even if they found out who was the smartest, strongest, bravest, etc. how would they account for good old fashion strategy. Here's the thing though kid; everything in life ain't fair. Some of the combatants are going to be stronger than others, end of story. You can whine and cry about the unfairness of it all; or you can change it. I just happen to know a guy, he can get you a match up with anyone you want, but only for your next fight. Just tell me who you want kid, and as a thank you, I'll make it happen. But I need to know now, as the second round fights are about to start.

You have 24 hours to pick your second round opponent. You will still have to win your first round fight to benefit from this.

If you don't choose in 24 hours, you lose this choice.

[Rocks_Fall]

Fizzle

A now familiar scratching sound comes from just outside the door.

[Morcleon]

Rozen Sabel

Opening the door curiously, Rozen stares down at the tiger. She raises an eyebrow and lets the large cat in. "...so how was your fight?"

[Rocks_Fall]

Fizzle

The tiger calmly paces past Rozen, leaving a small trail of blood and bits of metal in its path. He takes up the space in front of the fire once again, and curls up.

[Toro]

Battlebot calculates the wisest choice, with the limited knowledge he has:

The lady seems to be quite advanced in her fighting style, mixing brains with a good bount of brawn. She would likely be quite difficult, especially if she isn't all that meet the eyes as he suspects.

The man with the accent seems to be a much easier opponent, especially since his strategy seems to revolve around having magic while his opponent has none. Since a battlebot has little use for the arcane arts, at least not while technology can be used in it's place, he should be able to secure victory in the long run. However, word on the street is his opponent folded, so perhaps the man has a few more tricks up his sleeve. He certainly appears to be trying to hide something, at least by the way he's parading in the tavern.

And the latest victor, the seemingly tamed tiger, has returned awfully quickly from his fight. Apparently, he is quite the melee combat, though with such a short fight, little was revealed. He probably has some offensive magic abilities; or perhaps he is playing to his strength, and will try to make his longer lasting opponents duke it out with him, in which case he has probably sought out some protection. Either way, it is nothing Battlebot can't handle.

Of the remaining two contestant, apparently one has the ability to blow up the arena, and the other has the ability to survive the arena being blown up. Both seems quite capable, and with the chance of picking the loser, he decides he should not chose either of them.

He sits pondering his choice a while longer...

Lol, I was actually going to chose you, until you one-shoted Lairdmaon. It seems like 'Fizzle, Master of Magic' isn't exactly the most accurately describing name. Kudos on the strategy there.

Edit: After due deliberations, Battlebot once again speaks. I shall kill him. he says, gesturing at the large, accented man refered to as HugeArms.

[Rocks_Fall]

Fizzle

The tiger’s ears perk up again, but the beast stays by the fire and rolls onto its back. A low growl builds within his chest until the tiger finally rolls back to its feet. Padding slowly towards the door, it doesn’t even bother scratching; two glowing eyes glare at the tavern’s patrons, awaiting the door to be opened.

Thanks! :smallbiggrin:

Now that the cat’s out of the bag, it’ll be interesting to see how the next matches go.

[3SecondCultist]

Sir Edwin Jennings

http://i1299.photobucket.com/albums/ag75/3SecondCultist94/Unpleasant%20Aristocrat_zps8thqk6dx.jpg

A slight breeze accompanies the newest arrival at Krankshee's. As he walks through the door, you can see that he appears just like a handsome young man in his mid-twenties. A mane of golden, wavy hair ends just over a pristine white collar, set against the backdrop of a very fine black suit and richly patterned crimson vest. He carries no weapons of note, simply a black bowler hat and an ebony cane that seems like it's largely for ornamentation. His features are strong, perhaps a bit too angular for a man of his stature. As he surveys the room, the man finds a seat close to the bar, but not too close.

"My good man," the bespoke gentleman calls to Krankshee, his voice cutting effortlessly into the throng. "Would you be able to procure me a glass of red wine, or perhaps brandy? Although, I would also happily accept a song as sustenance. I do love those." He smiles guilelessly at the other patrons in attendance: the walking suit of armor, the strange feline, the muscular fellow, and the beautiful girl in uniform. A curious menagerie of characters, but perhaps no stranger than he is.

"I imagine most of you are here to fight? I'm afraid I missed the first bout. Damnable travel around the Astral Plane this time of year... a man simply can't rely on good help. Well, would any of you care to join me? I am starved for company. At the very least, I would know the names of those I am destined to fight on the sands. My full name is Sir Edwin Jennings, but you may call me 'Jennings' if you wish."

[Rocks_Fall]

Fizzle

Snorting at the passing Edwin, the tiger finally makes its way out of the tavern, slamming the door behind it once more with a *crack* of its tail.

[3SecondCultist]

"Well," the nobleman says brightly as the door closes, "that was certainly amusing. I must confess, I was not anticipating to see an intelligent tiger here, of all places. Are we to fight other beasts in the arena?"

[Ieagleroar]

Finally, someone with a little class. Old Krankskee thought to himself. I'll have to duck out the back to get the good stuff.

He returns from the back, carrying an unopened, green-glass bottle. He finds his finest crystal, and softly places it on the counter. He then fills the glass to just below the rim. Carrying it gracefully, he presents it to the man. I didn't have any red wine, but I did have Redbreast, which if I do say so myself, is some of our finest whiskey. I'll just charge it to the Colosseum. Leaving the drink with Sir Edwin, he returns to the bar.