As I've discussed before, Kickassistan includes Purple Socerer's Mustertown (as presented in Perils of the Sunken City) nestled right up against the First City, Ur-Hadad, built in the shadow of that great city. Similarly, I've borrowed the Soiled Dove tavern from those Sorcerer guys as well. This is not a friendly local tavern, but rather a seedy, dangerous place filled with the sort of scum that frequent villages like Mustertown. On any given night, there's a 75% chance (1-3 on a d4) of a fight breaking out, which happens 1d16 hours after noon.This might mean that the players just missed the fight, or that the fight has yet to break out; regardless, the most important question that should be on your mind is "who started the fight in the Soiled Dove?"
1d12 Roll | Result
1 - Halfling Rudeboys - Suspenders holding up their highwater trousers, these halflings walked in the front door looking for trouble. Most are missing teeth and sport offensive tattoos, but absolutely all of them have shaved heads and (improbably) wear new, shiny black boots. 1d4+2 of these ruffians darken the Dove's doorstep and blacken a few eyes.
2 - Restless Rutabaga Farmers - The 'Baga Blight has claimed nearly all of this year's rutabaga crop, leaving most of the Dominion of Man's rutabaga farmers unemployed and without prospects. A smattering of forlorn farmers have gathered at the Dove to drink away the very last of the money, hoping that some stranger might come along to take pity on them and whisk them away to a life of adventuring. Before that could happen, someone brought up pitchfork control policy. 1d6+1 of these guys immediately came to fisticuffs.
3 - Stinky Pete On the Loose Again - Stinky Pete, Wollis Carter's prize pig, got loose again and ran immediately for the Soiled Dove. Ol' Pete has developed a taste for ale and launched himself on top of one of the long tables in the Dove, shoving his snout into a tankard and squealing with delight. The resulting chase smashed clay tankards, earthenware plates and long tables as Wollis Carter tried to catch Stinky Pete and no fewer than three drinkers tried to kill him. As drinks were spilled and food was ruined, the comedy quickly turned to tragedy as the fists started to fly.
4 - Old Soily Himself - The proprietor of the Soiled Dove, a loud-mouthed and surly (but usually well-meaning) lout who goes by the name of Old Soily, started this particular row. It seems that Old Soily thinks that Urgan Fetht has been spending too much time with Mrs. Soily. Fetht, the town ratcatcher, recently cleared out an infestation in the Soily family home (the one in the tavern is still going strong, don't worry) and that pie Mrs. Soily baked for Fetht just reeks of iniquity. As a result, Soily broke a bottle of rotgut over the ratcatcher's noggin the moment he stepped foot in the Dove.
5 - An Itinerant Priest of Law - Recently evicted from his prior home on the Avenue of One Thousand Gods, Brother Murghest seeks to atone for his own crimes against the god Uhrlgrei, patron of steeped beverages. As penance for the crime of drinking his tea spiked with rice whiskey, Brother Murghest showed up at the Soiled Dove, preaching about the evils of drink. This proselytizing did not go over well, nor did the fallen priest's cajoling for the patrons to "entrust your sinful beverages to my care, that they may be disposed of as written in the holy scripture!" In the end, the priest escaped with a split lip and a bottle of cheap plum wine.
6 - Those Damn Mercenaries - The mercenary company known as the Brotherhood of Boastworthy Victories (the "Boasters") attempts to make up for what it lacks in prestige by ridiculous self-aggrandizement. Despite having been formed more than six years ago, the Boasters still have no presence in Ur-Hadad's Spearmarket or even within the First City at all; their only clients are those desperate enough to hang the color in Mustertown. Orvus Boll, the town scrivener, called out a band of 1d4+2 Boasters trying to pass off a bald faced lie as the gods' honest truth and paid for it with a broken jaw.
7 - Those Damn Adventurers - A fresh batch of croc scat, just back from an adventure in the Sunken City, got blind stinking drunk off the proceeds from their Gray Prize and, in the whirlwind blur of their inebriation, someone got stabbed. Does it really matter how it happened? Or who it happened to? Apparently, yes, yes it does. 2d3 adventurers found this out the hard way.
8 - Those Damn Barbarians - Cultural exchange is one thing, but these barbarians insisted on "sharing" all of the words to their favorite Skallite drinking songs with the entire tavern, enforcing participation where there was little will to sing along. 1d3+2 barbarians from Skall taught the weak swampfolk of Mustertown to fear Brom, He Who Sleeps Beneath Mountains, in the ensuing brawl.
9 - The Metal Priest - A Chaotic priest of the Metal Gods paid the Soiled Dove a visit on a pilgrimage. If only that pilgrimage hadn't been "go to the nearest tavern and smash it." As it stands, he brought a few of his more presentable beast men and waited for the third round of liquor before pinning the serving wench's hand to the table with a sacrificial knife; that's three rounds that Old Soily is never going to get paid for. The priest and his 1d4 beast men companions sing the praises of Obhal, Zyosbou and Lemm the Killmaster as they stab and hack their way through the patronage of the Dove.
10 - The Band Rebels - The band was supposed to just be normal, happy minstrels performing normal, happy drinking songs and encouraging normal, happy drinking behavior, but then Old Soily screwed them on their contract and threatened them with report to the guard captain for breach of it if they complained. Fed up, the songs' lyrics started to get sarcastic, then satirical and finally downright lambasting; that's when Old Soily starting hurling threats and the five minstrels started hurling plates.
11 - The Waitress Did It - Sick of the appalling quality of the pick up lines found in the Dove, ranging from insultingly horrible to even worse, Arda the waitress finally decked Barsam Kulg with a full tankard of goat piss (or ale, it can be hard to tell the difference at the Dove). When Barsam's brother Malsam objected, his face bore the brunt of Arda's backhand. Soo, Kulgs were raising to their feet en masse, but since the Kulg family has never been too popular around these parts, the rest of the patrons joined in on Arda's side.
12 - No One Knows - Near as we can figure, punches just started flying. No one recalls anyone saying anything about anyone else's spouse or mother, just the moment when punches started flying. If any sort of psychometric or time-bending magic is used to scry upon the root cause of the melee, it turns out that one of the flies circling Gern Bensback, the town gongfarmer who drinks alone as far from the kitchen as possible thanks to popular consensus, annoyed the noses of a group of walrus-herders who, attempting to shoo the offending pest away, ended up swatting each other rather than the fly, and the one who got knocked out of his chair lost a prized walrus tusk that pierced a local farmer's thigh and, well, that's the moment where all hell broke loose.