2 Parts Surprise, 1 Part Battle [ Beh ]

Jonah opened his eyes, seeing dark wooden rafters above him. He was lying on a bed, fully clothed. His sword was standing neatly in the corner, next to his boots. wasting no time he stodd up, swung his sword across his back and tied up his boots. He quickly searched the room, only finding a small, worn key and a small sum of silver coins.

Opening the door, he walked into a small corridor, two other doors around him and a staircase to his left. Leaving the door slightly ajar he walked downstairs, where there seemed to be a hive of drunken activity.

Sure enough he was right, the downstairs of the establishment dimly lit and swathe din smoke. Breathing had an intoxicating effect, so man different substances drifting around him. Tables were full of drunken men singing songs of revelry, while tipsy women made moves on the more sober punters.

Though the thick haze of smoke was present, his red eyes fought through it easily, his vision only slightly impaired by it. It was a place of squalid morales this inn, young women dressed in scanty clothing, a blue female with short spikey hair dancing in ways pleasing to the eyes while men of all walks of life behaved in ways that would shame their fathers.

"Bartender!" called Jonah over the noise of the room. "One beer please!"

Crackle sat at the counter, taking shots. He prepared to down his twenty-sixth when a new person came down the stairs and ordered a beer. He downed the shot of alcohol. He stuck his already lit cigarette bakc in his lips and said, "Hey, you! Bet you I can drink more than you!" Before Crackle could stop himself the words were out of his mouth and his drunken pride would not allow himself to take back the challenge.

Jonah smiled a little on the inside. He sat himself beside the man, relishing the feel of the cold beer glass beneath him.
Quickly, he held the glass to his lips, downing it in several, loud gulps.
"A drinking contest you say?" The man gave a limp nod. " Bartender, twenty of your strongest shots." The bartender hurried back behind the bar, delighted at this boom in business.
"So, fancy a little wager on this contest?"

"I'll bet you this sword," as Crackle said this he set Big Blue on the counter. "Why don't you offer yours?" Crackle had to try to get something out of it. Aura flowed through his system in an attempt to cleanse his system of the dreaded alcohol. The effect was similar to taking a drop out of the ocean and expeceting the tsunami not to be as devastating. His vision still pulsed, his speech was still slurred, and it sounded like someonehad their hands over his ears.

"Of course, an even wager," said Jonah, eyeing the blue sheen of the sword with a hungry look. A rather loud clunk was sounded when his own long sword hit the counter, but it was ignored. He picked up one of the tiny glasses, swilled its blackish contents around before swallowing it. It burnt his throat a little, but that soon went away.
"You move," said jonah, a tone of confidence in his voice.

(OoC: I may only get a few more posts done today, but we'll keep going.)

****, ****, ****, ****, ****, was the only thought going theough Crackle's head as he picked up the small glass. His hand shook slightly as he brought the substance to his mouth. He threw back his head and the glass in an attempt to get the alcohol to touch as little of his mouth as possible. "Kid," he said, "I'm Irish. You can't beat me."

"Let the drinking do the talking mate," said Jonah cheerily swigging back another shot. The burning reminded him of toture training while he was in the army. Or was that just when he was off duty?

"Well watch this!" Crackle said as he managed to fit three glasses between the fingers of each hand. He downed them and smiled smugly. "Only an Irishmen can drink six drinks at the same time while already drunk." The words were supposed to sound smarter but they ended up the babblings of a drunk man.

"That was impressive I'll admit," said Jonah amused. "But can you top this?" He raised his hand the virulent, coarse liquid flying out of each glass, conglomorating into a single long sliver of black liquid. With a click of his fingers, the serpent of booze slid down his throat. This caught the attention of many at the bar, the blue dancing girl even stopping to take a look.
For Jonah this was less entertaining, the constant stream of drink burning his insides. But he had to get that sword.....

Crackle knew he was done. He felt his insides chruning and knew he would vomit soon. He could only do what any proud Irshman would do; Turn it into a bar fight. Crackle jumped out of his seat and instantly regrettted it because the chruning kicked into overdrive. "You used some sort of magic! No one could do that without some sort of help!" Crackle withdrew Little Blue from it's sheath and said, "Prove yourself worthy of my sword!"

Though is insides were burning, Jonah grabbed is sword with due haste.
"Sir, I'm warning you, you're in no fit state to fight." This time all of the bar was gathered, some egging them on, some using it as a means to get a dance with the blue girl.
Jonah looked at the man in the eyes, seeing nothing but drunken anger stare back at him. This man wasn't going to back down.
Sliding his longsword out of its sheath, Jonah raised it high above his head, arced, poised and ready to strike.
He shouldn't of said it but the alcohol took control; "Bring it."

Bring it. Two simple words. Any other time if Crackle heard them in a sentence he would speak nothing of it. But this time alcohol had to have it's say. The words echoed in his head and each time the sound waves struck the wall of his brain his anger grew more intense.

Crackle growled ferociously and threw Little Blue at his oppoent while also jumpin to the side to get Big Blue.

Concentrating on the larger, bluer sword, Jonah did not expect the attack of that came to him. It was to late to dodge, so he did his best and raised his arm up to his face. The blade lodged into his armor a slight burst of pain sent through his arm. He grimaced, his lack of focus costing him.
"I warned you boy," growled Jonah, his eyes gleaming, runes lighting upon his skin. Suddenly the blade was repulsed out of his arm, stabbing an unlucky patron in the chest; with the handle.

Normally in battle, Jonah would focus only on his target and ignore everything else. Here however, things were different. He felt like he needed a sample of the that blue sword and so needed chaos. First he released to orbs, one of light nd the other of darkness. These began to flash at random intervals, sending the patrons into a stupor of confusion. Next a wind began to pick up, glasses, bottles, chairs, flying about the place. Soon everyone was fighting among themselves, bodies tumbling in the mess.

And from this storm, Jonah descended, his red eyes seeing through the destruction.....

(OoC: Quite possibly my last post tonight.)

Chaos.

Crackle jumoped behind the counter and took refuge in the fact that he was right. The guy could use magic. He summoned Little Blue back to him. He put both Big Blue and Little Blue back in their sheaths and drew out four throwing knives. He threw all four of them at where he thought his opponent to be. He'd manipulate them to follow his opponent.

Jonah soon realised the stupidity of the situation; though the man could not see him, neither could he truly see the man in return. At this thought the two orbs vanished, though the majority of the chaos remained. A smash of a bottle, and one man lay dead upon the floor, while another was scorching his foes using a cigarette and a bottle of whiskey.

Jonah dodged sharply to the left, a swirling nimbus of blue material slicing the air at his side. Then came another, which Jonah swatted with his sword. Someone was controlling them and he bet he knew who....

Four knives circled around Jonah and he was partially trapped inside the circle. If he tried to walk out of the circle the knives would cut him. Crackle closed his open hand into a fist and the knives all shot together, straight at Jonah.

OoC: I'm not sure if I worded this correctly but the knives are all in a circle, spinning around Jonah very fast with the blade pointing at him. They all come together when Crackle closes his hand.

Jonah mutterred a word under his breath, as the blades began to circle around him. His free hand became a tentacle of shadow, pointed at the ceiling. It wrapped around the beams above and as the knives closed in, it pulled him up above thier navy swirl.

Crackle saw a blur as something went up into the rafters. I wonder what that could be, he thought, sarcastically as the knives shoot up and cut down several pieces of wood.

As the knives sliced away the wood, Jonah let himself fall, angling himself to land behind the counter. There, sitting calmly was the man. Jonah raised his blade before kicking out with his leg, the surrise attack hitting the man in the face.

"Miss me?" asked Jonah.

The kick definately hurt but Crackle didn't think anything was broken. His eyes shifted to the rafters and he saw his knives still floating at the top. They spun slightly and then turned towards Jonah's back. They darted out and if he didn't move they'd hit his spinal cord.