Siege at the Brewery

[Jake]

It was reflex.

A hand shoved the half-orc from behind. He half-stepped/half-stumbled forward before recovering his balance. "Go home, orc!"

The half-orc turned, growling back. "Get the #&$(#* out of my way, and I'd be home," referring to the Red Orc Brewery only a few yards away.

The crowd of protesters filling the street were blocking traffic between the Line and the brewery. Signs espousing “END HUMAN OPPRESSION”, “MAKE RHYDIN HUMAN AGAIN”, “HALFIES AREN’T HUMAN”, “UPRIGHT, ROUND-EARED AND PROUD!” hovered in the air over the crowd, making all too clear their desires. Travellers edged their way around the protesters, or sought alternate routes through the streets of Dragons Gate. A cluster of loud, chanting humans were blocking access to the main entrance of the brewery. The orc could have chosen an alternate entrance, the loading dock behind the brewery for example, but orcish stubbornness refused to see him "sneaking" into his own domicile.

He continued marching a path through the humans, glowering at any of the protesters that dared to stay in his path longer than was necessary to get out of the way. Some faces challenged him back, but none held firm to halt his progress. A few were bold enough to brush against him, but the orc ignored them.

And then there was another hand, shoving against his shoulder, and from there it was reflex. The half-orc stepped, a half-turn, hands raising to grasp the arm, while he stepped into the man. A simple throw, tossing the human to the ground for the temerity of laying hands upon him. The human, unprepared for the throw, landed in an awkward jumble as he crashed into the legs of other protesters.

Jake growled, his tusks bared at the man. "Don't touch me."

Signs lowered slightly, the crowd stared at the orc, their ill-will radiating outward. A space had formed about the half-orc, but the humans were starting to close that distance. Jake reached for the handle of his blade, always ready at his side. This was looking bad. Only a dozen yards to the brewery doors, but they were going to end up bloody.

SPLOOOOSH!

The surprise was mutual. A soaked protester stood with mouth agape. The orc too was stunned. He stood, hand not yet to his blade.

SPLOOSH! SPLASH!

Additional water grenades landed among the crowd, splashing the crowd with water, wait...colored water? No, it was paint. Bright paint. The crowd tried to scatter, but there were too many of them. More water balloons filled with neon colors started landing all about the protesters, splashing into the street, onto the signs, and into the crowd.

The orc spun and looked up. From the edge of the roof three stories up, a row of goblin faces peered over. "GO HOME HUUMMIES!" A barrage of balloons sailed up and then rained down into the crowd. The goblins were cackling and cheering, making rude gestures and faces at the crowd of protesters. "OR WE WILL TAUNT YOU AGAIN!"

People were fleeing the cascade of balloons, seeking cover behind carts, behind each other, and finally retreating away from the range of those colorful...and non-lethal...missiles.

The orc's hand moved away from the hilt of his blade. No humans stood in the way of his path. He glowered up at the goblins, but perhaps fortune had favored him. Blood would certainly have been a worse result. Jake spied a particular face among the goblins. Mojo danced on top of the crenellations, perilously close to falling off. The goblin juggled a water balloon or three and beamed at the orc. "Hiya, Jake!"

And then a paint balloon slammed into the orc.

Wiping paint from his face, the orc growled. "Some day I'm gonna kill that goblin."