<div class="floatright">(https://i.pinimg.com/736x/d7/02/e9/d702e959ba7267de915e379cb870b3a3--animation-photo-animation-background.jpg)</div><span class="bbc_size" style="font-size: 12pt;"><strong>With Friends Like These</strong></span><br/><strong>Tagging: Oloven, Dahlya<br/>Location: Precinct Two: Outskirts of the Merchant Quarter</strong><br/><br/>Their goblin host clopped along back and forth, producing a pair of ales in each hand. Two each seemed best as it was unlikely that one was going to do it and frankly, his high yield exotic ales were better after they had warmed up a bit. The sandwiches follow suspiciously fast, as if they had been sitting under a hot pipe to keep warm. It hardly mattered, given the nature of the meats, no self respecting bacteria would touch such culinary delights. The goblin shook the barrel, listening intently to the soft slosh inside. Meanwhile, it seemed that Oloven was not the only one there for a free show. Those closer to her were guilted or enticed by the rhythmic slap of her ass cheeks as she introduced some new patrons the dwarven dance move "the twerk", and they threw a few bills her way. As the elf girl across the street obviously only had a prostitution permit and not a busking one, she quickly retrieved the bills using every appendage but her hands.<br/><br/>"Well... if you enjoyed that brew, I have something special. Fell off a black market truck this morning!" The goblin broke their laser like focus on the pliant elf girl in favor of slapping the lid of a large black barrel. Little did they know, there would only be a moment for them to take note of the label glued onto the oak, but they were Orzhov syndicate and taking note of small details to exploit later was pretty much their stock and trade. Especially given that they had just seen it a few minutes before in the graffiti on the second story of the whore house. A crude circle, anyone in the Syndicate could tell immediately what it was, where others might not.<br/><br/>It was definitely a coin.<br/><br/>The moment passed as their host hammered the tap home into the black oak. It responded by exploding in a noxious spray of skunked beer splinters and steam. It took them both by surprise, knocking the agents back off of their stools and onto the cobblestone. A high pitched whine filled their ears from the proximity of the blast, but the cursing of the goblin could be heard just on the outskirts of audible. He was flat on his back like a turtle, unable to get his stilts back under his feet while he choked in the stinking beer fog. Something ELSE moved and chittered like an insect in the sour mist.<br/><br/>It was big... Impressively big for having fit within the barrel. It stank of rotten hops and mushrooms, and though it was shaped like a man, the only thing not visibly fungus were its large flat teeth. It clacked them together eerily, gnawing and chomping as it blindly seemed to sense them. Two things were certain as it skittered towards them, ignoring the goblin barkeep. One, it was definitely looking for a fight and two... there was no way they were paying the tab.<br/><br/><div class="spoiler_container"><div class="spoiler_header" onclick="hideSecond (this);" role="button">What... the fuck is that thing?</div><div class="spoiler_body">(https://i.postimg.cc/GprBb0wC/last-of-us-spore-zombie-4-by-kendjee-zee-d75zwt4.jpg)<br/><br/>Roll Initiative! <br/><br/>Important notes for this fight! You are starting prone, <br/>halving movement for your first turn! Currently Oloven has the case, <br/>which impedes him from performing any actions that require both <br/>hands without setting it down!<br/><br/>squares=5 feet<br/>(https://i.postimg.cc/nzxcvqcf/FIGHT-1-1.jpg)</div></div>