Warlock! Something is Rotten in Grim Biskerstaf...

When Trusova gets up, Banio follows her gaze to the developing fracas. He curses inwardly. The little man has a perfectly good con going, but a bar brawl will limit his options and his time. He'll have to roll the dice on a quick score.

Phelbt pushes his fingers up under his stringy hair, crumples his brow, and closes his eyes tightly. After a moment he nods, as if receiving some direction or command.

"You are lucky," Banio tells the stranger. "The College will honor your request." He might be a little more convincing if he weren't constantly glancing aside, trying to gauge when the chaos now starting to unfold in The Manky Mermaid might wash over the table where he sits. "Wizards are above such petty concerns as coin, but they want you to pay my colleague and I a humble honorarium of ten pieces of gold for our efforts. Then I'll tell you how to reach the College of Doors."

Come on, Banio Phelbt thinks. Make with the gold before this whole thing falls apart...

Trusova scans the Manky Mermaid like a hawk. After all, it is a well-known fact that hawks can't see in the dark, and her vision is about as accurate in Manky Mermaid's gloom.

Foggie sees the two street-sharks circling Banio and Trusova. He directs Rausimod's attention that way, and without waiting to see if the dwarf will follow, moves to back up his crew.

Lambert's blow catches the man challenging him off-guard, and it lands squarely. Predictably, at the first sniff of violence, others join in. The Mermaid is a tinder box, and while the fights are rarely deadly, they are often bloody and they are frequent. Men shove themselves back from their tables and take their feet, opponents are challenged and sized up, insults are hurled, punches are thrown. Fisherman, dockers, priests -- everyone is fair game!

During this Foghorn gets up, and Rausimod and Trusova arm themselves, even as Banio tries to salvage a deal and Foghorn goes after two men who don't seem interested in joining the fray.

"Ten pieces of gold!?" the Far Marenessean exclaims as the din begins to rise. "Such a dear fee!"

That's when Trusova rises from the table, and the man shrinks back, grabbing and securing his bag as he presses himself in the corner. The road warden, quickly armed with a broomstick, finds herself faced with a man she recognizes when she turns around -- one of the brigands from the road!

"Hello sweetie," he says roughly, grinning as his companion comes at the woman from the side, unseen!

With the bar-room erupted in violence, Rausimod cackles with glee as he takes the stool and tries crashing through the crowd! If he can take one of them down, he'll be a happy dwarf! However, the cramped room is far more difficult to navigate than the open battlefield or even larger spaces he is used to sparring in. A wild hook enters his vision as it glances across his face, the dwarf's mighty nose standing as vigilant as a shield.

Lambert connects with the man’s chin, but doesn’t put as much into it as he thought! As the chaos erupts around him, he moves in to the space the man just stumbled back from, intent on giving the fella a second trouncing, and to put him to sleep!

"What was it you were saying?" the man froth’s as he attacks.

Trusova finds herself blindsided and throws a solid whack at her assailant with her makeshift weapon and tries to crack his ribs.

Wolke's first jab isn't enough to put the blonde brigand on his heels, and the man sneers as he draws a knife and tries -- unsuccessfully -- to fend off another attack from the man. The second punch connects hard and nearly drops the man, who staggers back, blood running from his nose.

Across the room, Trusova uses her makeshift weapon to thwart her attacker's attempt to bull-rush her and put her on the ground...

The dwarf continues his bee-line to the Red Priests, draggin' the stool behind him.

Trusova continues to whack at her assailant, aiming to make him hurt bad enough that he backs down, but not bad enough to kill him. Holding back causes her to hesitate on a perfectly good opening, however.

This is far from Foghorn's first bar brawl. He expertly elbows his way towards Banio and Trusova through the mess of flying fists.

When he gets there, Foggie aims a savage kick to the back of the knee of Trusova's assailant.

"Time grows short!" Banio hisses to the Marenessean. "A door is closing that will open nevermore upon the secrets you seek. Ten cold coins is a pittance compared to the powers that may be revealed to you." Or not. Banio really has no damned idea, but the hard sell is all he's got left. "Give over the money now so that I may share what I know!"

The bearded, light-haired man facing Lambert -- the one with the now very likely broken nose -- swears a blue streak that is lost in the bedlam that now utterly dominates the drinking hall of the Manky Mermaid. Mugs are thrown, teeth are knocked from heads, spittle and blood spray, knuckles and knees are bruised and bruising. The four Fergan sisters, Nar and Marne, Tilde and Darcy -- they're at the center of it all, still hurling insults, still baiting, but now biting and clawing and gouging for all they are worth. Well, Nar and Marne at least. Young Darcy spends her time pointing out just who needs a pasting the most to anyone who'll listen, and hollering, grinning Tilde is riding a man on all fours as he desperately and unsuccessful tries to shake her loose and stand up.

"You'll pay for that," Wolke's enemy growls, and then that gleaming dagger dances from hand to hand as the man comes at him.

Foghorn and Rausimod fight their way through the brawl, coming to Trusova's aid not much worse the wear, but perhaps a shade too late to even the odds for the road warden. The man she's fending off with... with a broomstick? The man she's fending off with a broomstick raises a hand to block those hurried blows, then he tries to strike the woman in the face, with a punch or a headbutt, he cares not which! To the side of the guardswoman, here comes the other brigand, iron band reinforced club in hand!

Across from Banio, the lord -- if that's what he is -- takes his feet and tries to slip away from the table, and indeed, the bar. "You're daft! I'm not showing the glint of gold in here!" he hisses hoarsely as he leaves. "Tis a madhouse! I'll be robbed for sure!"

Trusova is in the thick of it now. With two assailants pressing in close, she is hard-pressed to swing her makeshift spear. The best she can manage at the moment is to take the hits on an angle instead of straight on.

For a hot minute, Banio wants to shove his dagger into the retreating Marenessean's back. That's just the frustration talking, though. Murder isn't Banio's trade, and even if it were, he wouldn't risk his neck in the noose over ten pieces of gold. Let the nobleman find someone else to resurrect his wife, or his cat, or whatever he has in that precious box.

Banio scoots his chair to place the table between himself and the brawl. He draws his knife and keeps it hidden below the table's level, ready to stab if anyone gets ideas about going after the midget. Trusova's hard pressed by two ruffians, but Phelbt sees that the strange dwarf and their boat captain are already closing in. He'll watch and avail himself of any opening the melee might present.

"Right, let’s have it, y’prick." Lambert spits as he tries to repel the attack!

Trusova shrugs off the punch of the man she's facing easily enough, but the one to her side hits her hard with his club. Despite the layers of heavy cloth the warden wears, she knows the blow will leave an ugly bruise.