[hr][center][img]https://txt.1001fonts.net/img/txt/b3RmLjk2LmRkYTBkZC5VbUZ1YzI5dElFeGhZbVZzYkdVLC4y/golden-jewelry.regular.webp[/img][img]https://i.imgur.com/HvlcxJd.pngp[/img][/center][right][code] The Waystone Inn
Interactions:  Lucky [@DrDistasteful] Ed[@NoriWasHere] Lairëcúma [@Tesserach] Cali [@Fernstone]
Outfit: Hand's getting a bit chilly[/code][/right][hr]

Ransom saw the drunken sway in the tired tabaxi’s stance as the end of his cigarette glowed red. The fresh night air nipped at the tips of Ransom’s unprotected fingers. Perhaps it even cooled his temper. Satisfaction still had to be found, but the cost of payback was discounted from life to first blood. Then the cat opened his stupid mouth going off about guns and started driving the price back up.

Ransom opened his mouth up to retort that guns were the weapons of the weak, ignoring the growing weight of his stashed hand crossbow that was essentially just gun-but-old, and received a shotgun blast of smoke spewed from the cat that caught him directly in the back of his throat. Ransom flinched and started to cough violently. Was that catnip and a vaporized form of Something Else mixed in with the tobacco? It took every precious ounce of his very limited willpower to keep his eyes on Lucky. Ransom hadn’t dealt with a smoke that harsh since the day he had to convince the goblins of Nomog-Gesomething-or-other that he was cool. 

Yet even through his coughing fit, Ransom still picked up on Lucky telling him to beat feet and beat off. What kind of cheap, dirty, rotten, lousy scoundrel would say something crass and lowbrow like that? [i]Utterly uncivilized.[/i]

Speaking of civility, the tabaxi wasn’t backing down, but he wasn’t picking up the glove either. A proper duel had pomp and circumstance, requiring way too many hoops to jump through and terms to set, all allowing for plenty of opportunities to get the hell out of town before actually meeting in a field at dawn. It was gentlemanly. It was noble. It's what separated them from the animals. The way the tabaxi was squaring up, he looked as if he wanted the fight right here, right now as if they were common street toughs. And his eyes. Look at his eyes. What the hell was happening to his eyes? 

It must’ve been really cold outside, because Ransom froze. Whatever was causing that cat’s eyes to become all weird and glossy was some nonsense mystical magic shit that Ransom absolutely did not mess around with. He was a wizard. Of course he was a wizard. Why was it that everytime Ransom picked a fight, it ended up being with a wizard? This was why duels needed terms and conditions. Fights weren’t fair when the other person could just cast Fireball. Had that smoke been a spell? Some kind of enchantment? Ransom didn’t know how magic worked, but he was hearing something heavenly ring in his ears. 

[centre][color=fff79a][i]“...Than just another...bar fight.”[/i][/color][/centre]

Now that Ransom was no longer just seeing red, he was able to witness the breathtaking beauty of an elven bard serenading him with song. In a town overflowing with scum and dirtbags and flirty tieflings that played hot-and-cold, her appearance was one of radiance and majesty, an angel sent down from the heavens and shining like a diamond. Surely she had just arrived, because there was no way Ransom would’ve missed someone like that. The best of poets and playwrights in the world would lack the words to describe someone so striking, and Ransom was neither of these things so all he was left with was a single, solitary, [i]Whoa![/i]

Wait, had she just called him an asshole? No, no, no, see, she just didn’t know the whole story. Ransom wasn’t an asshole. He was the victim here, see? He just barely clocked Cali playing the part of the devil on Lairëcúma's shoulder. For someone so “repulsed” by him, Cali sure seemed to be following him around.  Was this her doing? What had she said to the elf? Character assassination! This cried of character assination! He was a nice guy and he’d ruin anyone who said otherwise.

[color=plum]“Hold on, time out.”[/color] Ransom threw Lucky a T with his hands as the rage in his voice retreated before gesturing to his own eyes. [color=plum] “Quit whatever that weird shit is and go lick your asshole or something. Just give me one minute.”[/color] He turned towards Edwina. [color=plum]“Undertaker, make sure he doesn’t take any cheap shots.”[/color]

Knowing that there was now definitely no way he’d be suckerpunched, Ransom turned his attention fully to Lairëcúma and tried his damnedest not to shoot Cali any dirty looks.

[color=plum]“That was one of the most beautifully sung songs that I have ever heard. I’m sure it might sound like small praise considering the company we find ourselves in, but unlike the crowd here I know how to appreciate art,”[/color] said Ransom, unable to resist being a snob just as he couldn’t resist correcting her. [color=plum]“But this is going to be a proper duel, not some pedestrian barfight.”

“And only one of us here is an asshole!”[/color] What Ransom thought was a clever remark that dogged Lucky only served to out himself. [color=plum]“I’m sure someone as talented as you only lowers herself to come to a place as dingy as this in search of inspiration. Well, Ransom Labelle is all the inspiration that you will need. Just watch.”[/color]

He turned back to Lucky and pointed at him. 

[color=plum]“First to injure. No magic. You pick the weapon, the time, and the location. [i]Aaaand…[/i]”[/color] Just one more thing to set the record straight. Ransom turned his attention back to Lairëcúma, his guard not fully down but distracted enough as his finger slashed through the snowfall until it was pointed at Cali. [color=plum]“Anything that woman has to say about me is a lie. She is a stalker and she is jealous and she wants me all to herself and will say anything to make that happen. It's almost endearing.”[/color]