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Draathir snarled as a fight started up and quickly the Dunmer tried to intervene by ramming the long side of his arm and elbow into Baadargo's shoulder in an attempt to shove him away or throw him over "Take it outside you S'wit!" he yelled furiously.

Ambarys tossed the cloth down onto the counter and stepped around the group at the center of the room to the door to open it and hold it open "Take it outside, before we make you." the tender said, with no particular hint as to who 'we' was, but the dunmer wandering around outside might be easier to call upon for help than one might expect. He looked pointedly towards the Khajiit and the Orc with an assertive glare.

rolled 1d20 and got 13
to shove Baadargo.

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The argonian just watched the little scuffle while draining the last of his flin, as long as nobody paid him this wasn't his problem and he was quite curious how this would continue.
The claws hit their mark. Rougart did not expect Baadargo to get back up so quickly. He had no time to dodge the drunk cat's claws, and got hit right over the cheek."Graagh!" The Orc groaned as he staggered backwards, dropping his massive axe to the ground.

At the urging that this fight be taken outside, the now bleeding Orsimer had no trouble with that prospect."I'll skin you alive!" He cried as he charged for the feline, attempting to bash him outside, using his plated shoulder and make him at least fall back to the floor again, if not make him tumble down the stone stairs.

rolled 1d20 and got 17
Chaaaaaarge

Baadargo was in a fit state of rage; he hadn't even wanted this fight! That damn dunmer was the cause of all this, he wasn't sure how he knew but the elf was a pain in the ass from the start of it all. There was some satisfaction in the blood on his claws, but it was short-lived as he was shoved backwards. He staggered, growling unpleasant, not having a moment to gather his senses as the orc came at him.

The khajiit hardly knew what hit him, suddenly being plowed through the door and bouncing noisily down the stairway to the building. Mead probably helped to take the edge off, but he groaned in a heap at the bottom while his head swum in confusion; Rougart hit hard!
Draathir wheezed with laughter as the Khajiit went bowling out of the door, glancing to Ambarys with a slight roll of his eyes before placing a hand on the mans shoulder "I'll just say on the behalf of our...'patron's that i am very sorry for this Ambarys. I'll buy a few extra drinks next time i come in here to make up for it, eh?" he offered the man a smile and then poked his head out the door to look down at the mess outside.

A guard up the street, but a fair distance away lifted his head to look down at the disturbance, resting a hand on the hilt of his blade as he watched to be sure nothing got too out of hand.
With his thirst sated all the reasons to remain in the cornerclub was gone. Syvere stood up, leaving the empty bottle on the table and then slung his large sword over his back again. With the fight in the doorway the massive argonian could not leave, and that he didn't mind, he was curious how the fight would proceed.

The argonian positioned himself behind Draathir and watched past him at the khajiit, this hardly seemed like a fair battle.
Rougart watched the Khajjit tumble down the stairs, exactly what he wanted. He took large steps down said stairs, looking imposing."My coin, Khajjit." He spoke in his heavy voice."Give me my septims, and you'll be spared more pain." Speaking of pain, his cheek was bleeding fiercely. The cat has even torn right through it right above his jaw, it would seem. Rougart could feel the gash with his tongue, which stinged painfully.

He stood over Baadargo, just looking at him. If the cat didn't reply, Rougart would kneel down to 'loot' a coinpurse. The Orc was no thief. He would only get the coin that was stolen and leave the rest alone, though if Baadargo didn't have 30 septims on him...

Rougart wouldn't pay further attention to Baadargo if he was counting the coin. His mind would be focused on getting back what was stolen.
Perhaps unfortunately to the credit of Baadargo's innocence, his coinpouch was filled quite high, as any merchant's would be. Genuinely winded and doubtlessly bruised, he growled at the orc rummaging through his belongings. He was robbed because this fool couldn't keep hold of his gold. For all the injustice, he couldn't muster up more than a gob of bloody spit aimed at the orc's head.

"You're a filthy thief," he growled, though he didn't seem to be getting up any time soon. Ears flattened against his head and tail wagging violently behind him, he was the picture of an angry cat. Still, he did little more then glare at the others watching, carefully resting a hand on his ribcage and snarling angrily.

rolled 1d20 and got 2
spit ball

Draathir smirked as he watched on with little to no sympathy for the Khajiit. A small crowd had gathered outside to watch with mixed reactions, none of the crowd were nords other than a guardsman who stomped his way over.

"What's going on here?" he asked as he shoved the crowd aside and raised his torch to look down at the Khajiit and then pointedly at the Orc through the eye-slits in his helmet. "No more trouble, i hope?" he asked gruffly, seeing as the conflict seemed to be resolving itself now.

Draathir stepped away from the doorway and walked silently back over to the bar to sit down and finish the last of his abandoned drink.
This was all the proof the Orc needed. Now with his purse refilled, he had no further need of bashing on the Khajjit. As he stood up, he easily stepped away before the bloody spitball could hit him."I'm just taking back what is mine, cat." He growled at Baadargo."Don't try your paw at an Orc's riches again. Most of my ilk will do more than just give a beating. Consider this a lesson." Rougart spoke, oblivious that he was about to call the true thief a 'friend.'

"I was merely teaching the Khajjit some tavern manners, sir. I think he has learned now." The Orc grinned as he walked back inside of the New Gnisis Cornerclub for one last drink. He simply left Baadargo on the street."Another ale for me and one for my elven friend here." He said in a more cheerful manner as he walked back inside, completely calmed down. He made sure to keep a closer eye on his pouch from now on.
Baadargo's indignity knew no bounds, furious at the injustice of it all. Still, he wasn't about to go demanding the help of a guard, not when he had a few sacks of stolen goods. Glaring at the crowd surrounding him, he managed to his feet, smeering a dribble of blood from his snout and stomping back into the tavern.

He paused in the doorway to stare ferociously at the group surrounding, wondering which of them was the smug guilty party who'd gotten out of theft. If he ever found who did it, he was determined to take revenge. And if that damn orc weren't careful, maybe Baadargo really would swipe something. Satisfying himself with dark thoughts, he returned to his seat, knocking over the half of his drink remaining in act of pointless retribution, scooped up his bags of goods and take off without a word to any of the remaining patrons.
Draathir reached up to pat the Orc on the shoulder roughly before grinning toothily at him "And a firm lesson you taught him. That's why i like Orc's, no nonesense. Need more folks like you around Windhelm, getting too much shit from the Nord's"

Draathir could have perhaps been the obvious choice to poor Baadargo. The Dunmer looked over as the feline returned to the room and gave him a very smug smirk before turning his head away and raising his tankard to the Orc "To good health, and perhaps a good friend, given time" he said and knocked back a good quarter of his drink.
Syvere looked at the khajiit's response, an argonian's face was impossible to read for non-argonians but one could almost swear the mercenary looked somewhat sorry for the cat. Still it was not his business, and in this city it was best not to make it his business so easily. With a discontent hiss the argonian walked out of the tavern as well and went down the gray quarter to head to the docks, it would be obvious for any local to guess where the lizard was heading.
Rougart laughed as he raised his mug as well."Indeed! Should I ever return, I'll know who to turn for." He spoke as he nearly drank down his entire mug at once. The Orc didn't stay very long, though. Not soon after Syvere left, so did Rougart."Well, my bones are warmed up. I'll be going now. Fort Dawnguard is a long way from here still." He bid his farewells after he paid Ambarys for the drinks. He soon turned his back at Windhelm, hiring a cart for Riften with the money he 'retrieved' from Baadargo.

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