Fate - First Reply The Vellspunn Job

[Tarvan Bridgeport]

Tarvan inhaled the air of the Areck Slums. The mold, smell of waste, and the hint of tobacco brought comfort to the metropolitan inquisitive. It was cloudy, and Tarvan was grateful for the lamplight since he couldn't see the stars. The boots clicked against the broken stone until he made his way to the Sweltering Willow, a local haunt for men who enjoyed doing bad deeds. He wasn't here for pleasure but to get information. With a bold step, the smell of pipeweed and eel stew filled his nostrils.

For a moment the scene played through his head. He stood in the well-furnished bedroom, the sniffling her mother was loud Tarvan asked the woman to leave the room so he could think. There was no note, no sign of trouble, and the only correspondence was excitement for the upcoming festival, a festival that she never got to see. The inquisitive spent several hours going through the girl's things and he could not help that nagging feeling that something just didn't fit.

"You just going to stand there or buy something," the gruff voice asked. It snapped Tarvan out of his train of thought. Taking a few more steps toward the bar he sat down and took out several coins. "I'll have a half pint of the local swill," he said as he slid one of the coins to the barkeep. "I'll also take a moment for for your thoughts," he said as he slid the other coins towards the proprietor. "Elf girl, Y'thil Vellspunn, do you know if anyone had a job out for here," he asked in a more hushed tone.

The barkeeper pushed a glass toward his customer and leaned forward. His breath smelled nasty and the man was clearly missing teeth. "I know who you are rat, we got a code of silence over here, or have you forgotten," he said with a growl. Tarvan seemed unbothered and instead took a drink of the beer. It wasn't horrible but it wasn't the best, it was the type of liquor that was brewed locally and made for people on a budget. "Don't act all Pious Mathias, we are in the city of coin, and you know what they say about the city of coins? For the right price any bird will sing, so are you going to take my shrapnels and talk or am I going to have to shake down you," for a moment he saw stars as one of the local protagonists clocked him with a ceramic mug.

Falling to his side he watched the pieces shatter against the stone. Feeling dazed he regretted not hiring some muscle to watch his back, an oversight he would not make again. He tried to pull himself back to his feet but another attacker, the glimpse of the shattered knife on the man's forearm identified him as a member of a local crime outfit, The Shattered Blade. Moving his arms to protect his head, Tarvan's ribs burned as he took the third boot to his side. He tried to crawl but he was surrounded, all he could manage to do was roll under the bar counter to limit the number of blows he could take...

 

[Lorraine Tegeko]

Tarvan Bridgeport

It had been quite a long week for Lorraine. Work had been quite difficult lately, not in a sense of having hard tasks, but in a sense of having none at all. It seemed for some reason that as of late nobody had any need of her cheap labor. There were some undesirable jobs she could take of course, but most of them tested the limits of what she would push herself to do. After all, working for a man who wanted little more than a woman to look at was something Lorraine never wanted to do. Still, no amount of dignity could bring in money and that was what she needed most currently. Well if one were to ask her what she needed most was a drink.

So in order to quench her thirst for an oh so stress-relieving drink, Lorraine found herself in the Sweltering Willow. The Willow was a very familiar place for her. She was, in fact, one of the few women who frequented the bar. The drinks weren't the best or even good at all, but they were cheap. One could not complain about the quality of their alcohol when money was tight. Lorraine certainly had no intent to complain and instead opted to take a large swig of her drink.

One of the newly arrived patrons didn't seem quite so complacent with his drink, however. Sitting on the other side of the bar Lorraine couldn't make out his conversation with the bartender. Though she knew the hushed conversation wasn't a good sign. Not to mention the look on Mathias' face seemed a bit agitated as well. The guy seemed a bit well dressed for this area of town and Lorraine figured he might be complaining about his drink. Though she'd never seen the bartender look so pissed from a whining customer. She instantly knew something was up when some others started moving in the room. She'd been around long enough to know when a barfight was about to start.

In any event, it wasn't her problem to deal with if some rich guy got beat up in the wrong part of town. Residents of the area usually know not to stick their noses into other people's business. She did hope they'd take it outside though. Lorraine was beginning to get a nasty headache and she just wanted to have her drink in peace. Though she knew she wouldn't get her wish as soon one of the idiots shattered a mug on the guy's head. Then the various loud noises of the man getting beat up rang out through the bar prompting Lorraine to rub her temples. Her headache was pulsing with the loud noise and she had about enough of it. If she joined the fight now she probably wouldn't be able to drink in the Willow again, but that wasn't really much of a bad thing. Besides, maybe the guy would give her some money for her help, and she could move on to better bars.

"Can't a girl get a drink in peace?" She'd say to nobody specific as she stood up from her seat. Lorraine had already taken off her cloak and bag when she'd arrived so that only left her overshirt. She'd tug it out of its tucked in position and slide off over her head. This revealed her arms wrapped from her shoulders to her wrists in bandages and the brown half-shirt she had on underneath. In no particular rush, she would begin unwrapping the bandages on her arms starting from the shoulder and working down. As she did so black runic tattoos would be revealed all over the previously covered areas of her skin.

"You're up Watol." Lorraine would say causing bright blue energy to surround her. The energy would quickly float away from her before coalescing into a vague turtle-like shape. The shining energy would increase in brightness quickly before flashing once and leaving a creature in its place. A strange but cute blue lizard-like creature with a round face, large spikey shell, and a tail covered in iridescent scales. Lorraine's marking would glow the same bright blue color as the creature began to move. It'd clamber up her legs and onto her back clinging onto her with its four legs. As the creature came to rest its head on her shoulder Lorraine's markings would stop glowing, but retain the blue color.

Lorraine would turn to face the group that was attacking the man, popping her knuckles and shifting on her feet to adjust for the added weight on her back. Her magic helped it feel like less of a burden, but it still felt as if she were carrying a heavy living backpack. The benefits of Watol's assistance with whatever was about to happen would far outweigh his physical weight. In her mind, she would give him a direction and he would promptly respond. He'd open his mouth spraying a jet of water towards the man's assailants. Not strong enough to injure them, but strong enough to possibly knock them off balance or at least draw their attention.

"Why don't you idiots come over here and fight me? Unless you're scared you'll get your asses kicked by a woman." She'd shout out meaning to taunt them. Her hands would ball up into fists and she'd bring them in front of her. Lorraine wasn't really worried about the fight she wasn't getting into. Fighting wasn't anything new to her and they didn't look too strong anyway. Besides she was more pissed off that they had ruined her drinking time than anything else. That, if nothing else, motivated her to give them a taste of their own medicine.