Wanna Be Startin' Somethin'

We're in a bar, it is almost inevitable that we get in to a bar fight. Four drunken men are hassling the goblin waitress and Brock steps up to calm them down a bit. He's planning to calm them down with a head butt or two, but thanks to one of them pouring a beer over Periwinkle and the vagaries of the initiative system he doesn't get to start the fight until it is already in progress.

Punches are traded, along with some camp slapping, but Davor being Davor brings his orcish double-axe to bear, much to our chagrin. 'This is a bar brawl, not a massacre of the villagers!'

'I'm using the flat of the blade', Davor says in his defence. Well that's alright then. He smacks a couple of them to cause some decent bruises, and they unsurprisingly gang up on the brutish half-orc who has the temerity to be attacking with a bloody big axe.

Brock has had enough. He picks up a chair that was knocked over at the start of the fight and slams it in to one of the drunkards. A little too hard, perhaps. The chair splinters as it cracks ribs, maybe punctures a lung, possibly dislodges a kidney. The recipient of the blow collapses, bleeding, to the floor. 'That'll teach him to bring a fist to a chair fight.'

'Oh, we're killing them now?', says Davor. 'Cool!' But, no, we're not killing them. The two left standing back off quickly and, along with the bar owner's appearance, the scuffle is calmed down.

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