Tea

A bored-looking clerk hands you a cup of cinnamon medley tea.  You pay him 25 dokoras for it.
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You put your tea in your sturdy backpack.
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A ruffian enters with a bow and a flourish, saying, "Shall we dance?"

A ruffian smirks and whistles a cheerful ditty.
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You put your tea in your sturdy backpack.
>l
[Undershard, Derleth's Teahouse]
Brick walls painted a glistening black, this sedate teahouse seems oddly at home in the warrens of the Undershard.  The patrons, a mixed lot, share a common bond of silence:  there seems to be an unwritten law against speaking over a whisper in the sparse, dimly-lit chamber.  You also see a bored-looking clerk, a low counter, a chalk menu and a ruffian.
Obvious exits: north, east.
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You glance at a ruffian.
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A ruffian begins to wave its arms in a magical fashion.

The ruffian begins to advance on you!
The ruffian advances from nearby and is closing steadily.

A bored-looking clerk hands you a cup of cinnamon medley tea.  You pay him 25 dokoras for it.
You put your tea in your sturdy backpack.
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The ruffian moves into a position to dodge.
The ruffian calls out, "Idon, ground my feet!"
A ruffian looks steadier.

< With the precision and elegance of a plunging goshawk, you punch your armor-clad fist at a ruffian.  A ruffian completely fails to block with its target shield.  The fist lands an extremely heavy hit (9/23) that bruises the chest with a blow to the ribcage, lightly stunning it.
[You're winded, adeptly balanced and in dominating position.]
[Roundtime 2 sec.]
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A ruffian blinks and reels about.
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< Driving in with an overwhelming assault, you punch your armor-clad fist at a ruffian.  A ruffian attempts to dodge, moving directly into the blow.  The fist lands a devastating hit (17/23) (That'll leave a mark!) that leaves it with a short bloody stump of a left leg.

A ruffian screams and falls to the ground.
[You're adeptly balanced and overwhelming opponent.]
[Roundtime 2 sec.]
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< Driving in like the overwhelming force of a hurricane, you punch your armor-clad fist at a ruffian.  A ruffian fails to dodge, taking the full blow.  The fist lands a devastating hit (17/23) (That'll leave a mark!) that explodes the chest in a shower of blood and splintered ribs.

The ruffian exclaims, "Help!  I am slain!" as he falls down.
[You're adeptly balanced]
[Roundtime 2 sec.]
You say in Ilithic, "I am just trying to get some tea."
A bored-looking clerk hands you a cup of cinnamon medley tea.  You pay him 25 dokoras for it.