Victor was able to evade his eyes from the bright flashes of light.  He then glares at the drow as he turns around looking at everyone else in the bar that had gotten blinded.  He looks at Alveric who is on the ground for some reason.  Victor laugh to himslef seeing Alveric in the fetal position because of the light.  Victor leaps over the bar and draws out his two katanas and makes sure the rest of the rats are dead. 

---

A life, heh who needs one, I got it all here in RPing and video games.

Fred stumbles around, blinded by the magic. He bumps into something tall and furry.

The last rat looks down on the bartender.

"How...ironic that the one creating us shall be the one destroying us. Alas, it seems like that is the way of gods, and..."

Fred fires the last shot into the rat, who falls down, dead.

"Whew, I just saved us from some long and annoying tirade, it seems. Hang on, I've gotta focus a bit..."

Favarin watches the large hole appear in the rat's stomache as Fred fires off the shot, as the rat falls he shoulders Nira and spins in a rage at the drow, stalking towards him again, fire in his eyes, "Why don't you just cast a blind spell on everyone in the bar next time!?" he continues walking and yelling, "How about a sleep spell on all of the people trying to save the place! Or maybe just finish that fireball spell you were doing and blow the bar up." He steps up, about half a foot from the elf. Towering over it with a fierce glare, which is amplified by the fact that he's still glowing, he continues his tyrade, "I see you're quite happy with your handywork underworlder, like seeing people in pain? Like demobilizing the majority of the bar? Like the prospect that if you should have "accidentally" blinded everyone in the bar and left two or three rats to slaughter them they would've made easy pickings?" His left hand clences into a fist as he blows a snort out of his nostrils, He bends down, light aura contesting with the drow's dark aura, into the drow's face, "There are other spells that would have worked just as well if not better, and caused less pain to the patrons...but you chose the one that would do the most damage while still keeping people alive, maybe, so instead of simply burning the flesh from their bones quick, it was so you could see them writh in pain for awhile? Well underworlder? Speak before I throw you to the street."

---

Curse you stumble button!

[Ran'kork]

After his eyes get back to normal he turns to the drow.  "Hey that wasn't very nice but you did a lot of damage.  If I know how to cast spells I would have done the smae thing.  But you took all of the glory from me.  Give me one reason why I should not kill you right now.  I would love to tie you in a cave and leave you to starve or cut all of your flesh off."

[Ehlonna]

She stands in the middle of the bar and then casts Mass Cure on the entire bar so all of the patrons will be fine.  "I hope you are happy, you evil being.  That was uncalled for.  Fred should kick you out for almost destroying this bar.  You know how many times this bar has been damaged by stupid people like you; too many by what he tells me.  Now I hope you next decision will not be so reckless."

((You know...no matter how low their intelligence scores, most people wouldn't interrupt a conversation like my character's having with Yashwi...try to think of what your character would do rather than speaking just to hear yourself speak.))

---

Curse you stumble button!

Many people would be afraid of a near 10 foot tall Minotaur staring you in the face with looks which could very well end up killing you at one point or another - but Yashwi had faced things far more sinister in his life.  The Matron Mother of his family was one, a Priestess of Loth who could flay the flesh from his bones with a single word, whom would if given the chance now since her son has left the Underworld to the land of the Light for his own personal reasons.  So, rather than cowering in fear of the creature, Yashwi smiled, his eyes going from contentment to rage - his smile turning quickly into a sneer and his hands spiraling into combinations so quick that they appeared as a blur to any who watched, finishing his hands and muttered words with a single retort to the arrogant Minotaur,

"Talk to the Hand."

This made no sense for a single moment before the Shadowy Drow stepped back, and from the ground appeared a disembodied hand made of pure shadow-stuff, blocking off the space between the two Patrons, something which looked as though it could crush the mighty Minotaur, the hand itself bulging with shadowy muscle.  Yet, Yashwi, rather than admiring his work, merely sat down at the bar, letting the hand do it's job, moving simultaneously with Favarin, preventing him from moving around it, and from moving forward to pummel the drow into submission as he said he would do.  Meanwhile, Yashwi's hands moved slowly, as he savored the moments which passed as he prepared another spell to entrap the Minotaur should the hand not prove enough to stop the beast - of course, that's all it was to Yashwi.  A beast trained to speak, and he intended to say so, his narrowed eyes moving upon some random patron as he spoke again, stopping his spell mid-sentence to do so,

"So, do you think that this poor fella even knows what he is doing?  Or was he trained to be this stupid as well..."

And then he continued to proceed his spell, something he did with a great deal more contentment, sitting at the table watching his darkened hand, since he was unable to see the Minotaur standing there anymore.

((OOC - In case you're wondering, nothing personal Favarin, but my character doesn't tend to deal well with being insulted, so he's just being reactionary now))

---

"... if it had to perish twice,
I think I know enough of hate
To say that for Destruction Ice is also great
And would suffice."
- Robert Frost

Favarin glares at, or toward as he can't see the drow, as Yashwi walks away to the bar and sits. Yashwi would be in for a surprise as he apparantly didn't hear Favarin simply put his hand into the hand's palm, aura around it glowing slightly brighter, and push the hand toward Yashwi as simply as he would a wooden chair. His face was even more intense than before as he spoke, making his voice ice daggers, "50 years underworlder." He said as the hand closed the gap and Yashwi sat down, "50 years I've been dealing with wizards that would make you look like something they'd keep in a fishtank! You haven't answered my question." He said as he stopped the hand a foot from the bar and where Yashwi sat.

---

Curse you stumble button!

Meanwhile, Fred had gotten his eyesight back and was studying the scene taking place.

"Heh. Talk to the hand. Good one."

Then he realises that while the bar might be saved from mutated rats, it's not saved from angry minotaurs and easilly-offended drows. Not to mention what the rest of the patrons were.

"NEXT ROUND'S ON THE HOUSE!"

"Minotaur, I've faced fell Demons who would devour your soul without even a second thought.  Wizards that could turn me into something that they'd keep in a fishtank?  Well, that may be true, there's always a more powerful Wizard, but do you think me so easily defeated?  I may not always agree with the methods of my people, but you should know that most Drow are far from easily defeated."

His hands did stop, and he waved away the hand, feeling bored with the effect - and it didn't affect anything anyway.  The Minotaur didn't seem to be so easily stopped, so there was no point to use the spell he was preparing on him either - and thus he dismissed it as though it were a pesky insect.  Yashwi's mind wandered, as he wondered what he would do about the Minotaur who seemed to keep pressuring him on his methods.  It wasn't his fault that these foolish people didn't know how to close their eyes before they were blinded by a big flash, and he was merely dealing with the situation before someone else did.  Trust was hard for a Drow, and feeling as though someone else would be able to deal with a situation which could have ended badly for Yashwi... well it wasn't something he was willing to have left up to fate, or a bunch of stupid inferior beings.  Even though this Minotaur was proving to not be one of the insects which dominated this bar.

"You are smart for a Minotaur, where'd that come from?"

Yashwi's intellectual mind taking over for a moment, his thoughts going over how such a normally stupid creature would be able to think on this level.  Other things went through Yashwi's mind though, as to how to deal with this Minotaur, since it appeared as though Favarin was better able to deal with the spell effects which Yashwi was so adept at calling, and for a moment he pondered this until his eyes went fully black and Shar spoke to his mind once again, a complete surprise.

"I can't leave you alone for five minutes, can I Yashwi.  For a supposedly 'smart' Dark Elven Wizard, you sure do get into trouble really well.  Don't ever be afraid to ask for some help, you pompous fool."

Then his eyes went back to normal, and Yashwi mentally thought his response before he completely went back to the situation at hand, rather than the growing relationship between himself and Shar.

"Sorry Lady Dark, what do you want from me?  I'm a stupid mortal who only will live about 2,000 years.  Maybe if you made me immortal... then I could be as smart, wise, and beautiful as you."

---

"... if it had to perish twice,
I think I know enough of hate
To say that for Destruction Ice is also great
And would suffice."
- Robert Frost

Favarin clenches his fist as the second insult flies at him, as the drow's eyes go black and back to normal Favarin moves his hand in a blur to the Drow's neck, lifting him from his chair and nearly hitting the thing's head on the ceiling, squeezing tightly but allowing enough of an air passage for the elf to stay alive and breath, "From someone I'd care not to discuss with you. You're hiding something, twice I've seen a glimpse of part of whatever it may be." He squeezes slightly tighter then goes back to the previous pressure, "Not easily defeated or no, drow's necks snap and their air passages close just as easily as a rabbit's. But since I doubt Fred would like it if a customer couldn't pay anymore..."

Favarin makes a movement much like a basketball player making a hook-shot would, and tosses Yashwi toward the center of the room, making sure not to throw him into anything sharp or anything alive, "You can attempt to kill me and have the entire bar on you like worgs on meat, or you can tell me what you're hiding dark-skin."

---

Curse you stumble button!

Insults and threats annoy Yashwi, but to harm him is a completely different matter, and so he decided what he would do then and there.  His hands glowed black and an aura of Shadow enveloped him, his eyes, black orbs, as his hair seemed to stand on end.  His hands moved with unnatural quickness, even for a Drow, and between his hands there soon appeared an orb of black fire, which resembled a Fireball to any trained eye.  Yashwi held it between the palms of his hands, as he looked once again at the Minotaur, his voice no longer the casual tone it was, but the tone of someone filled with cold fury, the kind which usually is associated with psychopaths before they snap.  With a single movement, he tossed the orb of black fire into the air, and there it stayed, controlled by his willpower, preventing it from exploding into the flames which would kill some, and injure many.

"You want to see what I am?  My 'secret'!?  Is this what you want, creature?  Should I crush the bar now?  That's the real question, I don't really enjoy having my neck touched, maybe I should just kill you..."

His gaze looked around as the blackened energy seemed to waver around him, his aura flowing around him like some sort of avenging angel's wings - black and yet strong.  A single moment passed before Shar decided to intervene within the mind of Yashwi, her voice speaking with cool uncaring apathy.

"Why do you use my power, Yashwi.  I don't usually like it when you do this without some sort of reasoning, and anger isn't always a good enough reason."

"He tried to hurt me Lady Night, what do you want from me?  Can't I ever call upon you?"

"Yashwi, this isn't a suggestion, call upon me again when you're in more mortal Danger, you get one freebie, that's all."

"I thought you liked me, Shar."

"I do, I do, don't doubt that."

Upon the end of the exchange, Yashwi looked at Favarin, his eyes narrowing as the orb of black fire still hung in the air above his head - he could dismiss it still, but if he didn't do something quickly, he'd soon have to let it go off or the backlash from the spell could cause a lot more damage, to Yashwi anyway.

---

"... if it had to perish twice,
I think I know enough of hate
To say that for Destruction Ice is also great
And would suffice."
- Robert Frost

The door opens and a tall man with pointy ears enters. He wistles merrily as he makes his way to the bar.

"Hello! Would you be so kind to serve me a glass of wine this fine day?"

"Sure..."

Fred pours up a glass and hands it over. Then he wispers to the stranger.

"Uh...you're an elf, right?"

The elf laughs and says in a loud voice "Why yes, how EVER did you notice?" Then he pays with a silver coin wistles as he finds himself a table.

Fred looks at Yashwi, then at the other elf, then at Yashwi again, then at the other elf again.

Then he hides beneath the counter.

Favarin locks eyes with the drow holding the dark firball, glaring, if it's possibly, even more fiercely. He takes a step foreward, scraping the floor with one hoof as a bull would when agitated and ready to do something about it, "By all means dark-skin. You can't kill everyone that can do great amounts of harm to you, and they will not allow you to destroy the bar without consiquences. I call your bluff."

---

Curse you stumble button!

Suddenly time stands still, and Death Singer looks around at the patrons of the bar. Then she looks at the drow elf, with the black fire ball above his head. Then at the minotaur, with his set look of determination. She looks around at everyone and gets ready to say the spell as fast as she can. Time resumes. At the fastest she can possibly go, she begins casting pyrotechnics on the fireball, hoping to change it into a harmless firework.

A sinister smile went across the face of Yashwi, before he laughed, cackling as though he were insane - which in some ways he was - and then looked up to the orb of black fire floating in the air.  It shimmered for a moment, and time seemed to slow to a halt as Yashwi pondered the next few moments - for Shar once again took an interest in what had occurred, speaking directly into his mind like a Mother speaking to a child.  Intriguing it was, for Shar seemed to be stepping in more and more into Yashwi's mind - and time stood still for him as they talked, no real time being spent as their conversation occurred, giving him time to think on his decision as she spoke.  He, the Goddess, and the ball of flame seemed to be in unison for that moment.

"What is it with you and fire?  Did I create a Monster when I allowed you to delve into the Shadow Weave?  Not that it bothers me, Yashwi, you happen to be my favorite anyway.  You sure you don't want to die by the hand of this Minotaur?  He's bigger than you."

"Bigger?  Bigger maybe, possibly wiser, I might accept that, but in no way is he smarter than me, and that's all that matters to me.  Anyway, I'm doing this, and I know you will protect me, I trust you Lady Night."

And then time seemed to resume for the Universe, and Yashwi looked to the orb above his head, and then gazed at the Minotaur once again, and released his spell - sending it soaring with deadly speed toward the Minotaur who had angered him so.  At this point though, Shar seemed to leave him, and his entire body returned to normal, and he stood there, looking like any Drow Elf, and for a moment he looked strange - and then he kinda fell over - as though he had pulled energy from a place within himself which he was not normally able to pull from, collapsing on the ground with nothing to support him.

---

"... if it had to perish twice,
I think I know enough of hate
To say that for Destruction Ice is also great
And would suffice."
- Robert Frost