Post Revelation America

Friday Night's Alright for Fighting....

A PC walks into a bar...

The night began like nights do. Oliver Wilkes and Freedom “Dom” Gorman were settling down at the Idiot Ball, an Allston bar/hole in the wall for a chat they held every Friday. For Oliver, it was small and only a few blocks away from his Apartment, which allowed him to get thoroughly inebriated if his mood required it. For Dom, it was a ridiculous hike from South Boston, but it was dirty and odd enough to keep the college kids from coming and staring at the Elf and the Dwarf having a pint or seven.

The two of them were hardly into pint three when Kit Causa stormed in. She’d never been to the Idiot Ball before, but showed up at the urge of a coworker, who had been bugging her all day about this professor from B.C. he wanted to set her up with. When she got to the bar, and there was no alleged professor, she decided to console herself with several shots of whiskey.

As Kit planted herself at the bar, in bursts a fresh faced college-kid who looks like she ran all the way to the bar. She must have rushed, since she forgot her ID and had to give the bouncer an eyeful of womanly charm to let her in the Bar. Oliver gave her a quick scan across the room and immediately realized this was none other than Cornelia Vandemar Cumberbatch, which wouldn’t be a big deal if the Cumberbacthes didn’t live on their own private island off of Cape Cod and didn’t have more money than God. This kid might as well be American royalty, so why the hell was she in an Allston dive bar?

Nell knew exactly why she was there. She needed a job. She needed an internship, to be exact. There was only one person she wanted it from, Dr. Meadowkit Causa. She caught wind that the good doctor might be in the area and ran up and down every bar until she found her. Running up to Kit with no pretext whatsoever, Nell begged for a position. Kit shot her a sideways glance and asked her why on Earth she would be qualified. Caught off guard by Kit’s brush off, Nell immediately went for the nuclear option.

Listen, if you need funding, my family’s loaded….

Kit hired her on the spot. It may have been the whiskey.

Oliver and Dom watched this across the bar, and did what any two gentlemen would do. They argued over who would hit on who. Upon deciding that Oliver would go for the young one, the old friends casually moved to the bar, fixing their hair, checking their breath, and hoping the night would present some kind of new adventure, or at least an embarrassing story one could hold over the other next Friday.

This mood was quickly set off-kilter by more irregular characters. While everyone carried on about their business, Oliver spots an Orc and two Goblins walking in off the street. None of them outright looking for trouble, but embodying it nonetheless. Seemingly fresh off the boat, the Orc marched up to the bartender and demanded mead, not realizing that mead is somewhat hard to come by in Allston dives, not that the Orc wanted to hear such a thing at the time. It’s only a matter of time until an argument breaks out. The Orc is screaming at the top of his lungs for mead, and the poor barkeep’s apologizing and wiping spittle off his face while the Goblins are lording over the entire bar like malicious children.

Oliver has dealt with meaner and dumber things in his life, so he immediately steps in to diffuse the situation. However, as Oliver gets the grey brute’s attention, something inexplicably goes wrong. Oliver doesn’t see it as he’s trying to reason with the Orc, but Dom does. The orc begins sniffing the air wildly. First sniffing towards Oliver, and then scanning his nose back down to the girls. He backs away from the bar as Dom does his best to stand between Kit and Nell. The Orc blocks the door, snarling and fuming with anger and panic.

GRAAGHHH! I CAN SMELL YOU, AND YOU CAN’T HAVE IT BACK! IT’S MINE!

The Ugly bastard pulls a machete while the Goblins draw knives. Dom launches himself at the Orc with his hammer and knocks him backwards with a shot to the gut. The Orc tries to counter but can’t connect. One of the goblins goes for Oliver and they trade wild swings while the girls hold off the other.

P. Dom takes another swing at the Orc and it crumples at its feet. One goblin, who was at this point wearing parts of his orc buddy, gives up the fight as soon as Dom glowers in its direction. The other tries to pull his gun, but Oliver bellows so fiercely, it drops it and freezes.

As Kit, Nell, and Oliver round up the two brats, Dom examines the orc and soon finds what it was so desperate to keep. It was a finely crafted dagger with inscriptions swirling around the hilt. They hovered around it in wonder when Dom brought it over to the table. Without warning, Nell scooped up the knife and caressed the blade, causing it to shine like a brilliant beacon…and not much else. It was a knockoff enchantment, made to look like Sting when it was no more powerful than a sharp flashlight.

Seeing the knife’s abilities, Kit begs the group for it. “Simple Observation. Nothing more,” she says. Oli resists, but Dom relents and gives it to Kit. Oli continues his protest, but cuts himself short when he sees the jacket patch the Goblins have made for themselves. Emblazoned on the shoulder is a sigil that means nothing but trouble. Oli Grabs the goblin and shakes out a confession,

We saw it! At the Warehouse! We were working there and thought it looked cool! We just wanted a cool gang logo, honest! It’s where he got that thing too! I’m sorry! Please don’t kill me!!!

Oliver threw the green brat into the other and screamed for the two of them to run and not come back. As a man who occasionally found himself on the wrong side of the law, Oliver knew that cops had no time for two goblins screaming about missing Orcs, and those two were so scared of Dom’s hammer, they’d be lucky if they could remember how to get home.

Oliver’s mind turned back to that sigil. That Sigil meant no good, and it was exactly the kind of no good he didn’t feel like competing with. Nell knew the sigil too. She had never viewed it in person, but in her textbooks. She couldn’t imagine why a goblin would find it in a warehouse. Kit’s mind turned to the knife, and how there might be more where it came from. Dom cleaned up his hammer, tucked it back in his coat, and asked for another round.

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