Fate - First Reply Tussle in a Small town

[Gunner Valenntyne]

Falwood was a pretty peaceful place compared to some of the more crowded regions of Arethil. That wasn't to say that the elves didn't have their squabbles, but Gunner Valenntyne felt much more at home on the crisp-aired, quiet roads of Falwood than he would in a city full of sour faces Vel Anir or the duty-obsessed city of Valenntenia. Not that the burly young man had particularly meant to wind up where he was, of course. It was just where the wind had taken him.

To see a wagon traveling on the roads leading into the Falwood from the Anirian territories to the north without an escort wasn't a common sight, but it didn't have far to go; it was merely a supply wagon for a nearby settlement of humans, not even big enough to be considered a village. The settlement got regular shipments from the human cities outside Falwood to keep them stocked and fed, and both sides minded their own business.

The load that this particular wagon carried was raising some eyebrows as it passed through the small group of buildings to park itself at the settlement's storehouse. That was mainly due to the long-haired, bare-chested man wrapped splayed out and snoozing on top of the crates of goods, with a burlap sack of belongings tucked under one arm and a rolled-up shirt and coat under the other. Yawning, the murmuring from the settlers would rouse him from his nap as the men in charge of unloading the wagon stared daggers at him. Ah, he'd overslept. He cracks a grin and waves to the men, sitting up and collecting his good. "G'mornin' gentlemen! Suppose I'm in your way, eh? Sorry, I hitched a ride and the breeze was just so nice, couldn't help but--"

Needless to say, after collecting himself and shaking off the sting of his knuckles as they'd dealt with the rather hostile workers that had tried scuffling with him, he was feeling much more awake. Now, a drink would really hit the spot, wouldn't it? Yeah! Something to warm his belly before he saw what kind of trouble he could get into! This place was tiny, but even the smallest settlement had a place for a man to get a drink. The whole place would go mad otherwise, wouldn't it? He pulls the fur gloves off of his hands as he travels down the dirt path he'd just ridden through. The air this far out into the middle of nowhere was so clean: the normal dirt-filled air that filled most big towns and cities could really wear a guy down over time. It wasn't long until he found the small 'watering hole' where men were carrying crates of bottles into.

Following them into the tiny little place, he whistled at how cozy they'd made it. It only had room for a small bar counter and two little round tables, maybe a room or two upstairs to stay in, but even with its limited space, it was well-lit and decorated with all sorts of trinkets they'd bought from the elves. He nods to the bartender and shoots him a bright smile as he sits at the bar, fishing in the pocket of his jacket and pulling out a few coins, laying them on the bar. "I'll take whatever's cheap, and a bunch of it, if you please."

The Bartender smiled, but the grin faltered as his eyes traveled over Gunner's shoulder. Those workers who'd just had a tussle with Valenntyne were back, buried and dirtied, but with eyes full of anger. And this time, they brought swords.

Gunner peeked over his shoulder and clicked his tongue against the roof of his mouth. Well, that wasn't good. He was good in a fistfight, but he didn't have any iron on him. Turning to face his snarling pursuers, Valenntyne leans back against the bar and smiles, somewhat defiantly. "Come on now, surely we can talk about this? I didn't mean to squish anything back there, it's just... I'm a thick guy, you know? Lemme buy you a drink!"

The man in front brandishes his sword threateningly.

"Only drink we want is your moron blood, you dumb ape."

 

[Shirava Yazaltari]

Shirava Yazaltari had been wanting to get her parents and herself out of the lands controlled by Vel Anir for years now but had so far been struggling to save enough money to do so. While her parents had no idea she had recently become a hired killer, they suspected she was getting herself deeper and deeper into trouble considering how she spent most of her waking hours out after the sun had set. Accordingly, they were constantly on the lookout for chances to get her away from their violent home of Vel Stratholm, even if only temporarily. When an opportunity to send a small trade shipment to a relatively close human settlement presented itself, her parents insisted that she take the wagon. Recognizing their concern, she agreed to go and even thought it would be a good opportunity to spend some peaceful time away from Vel Stratholm. As she made the uneventful journey to the settlement, she convinced herself that she wouldn't be able to get herself into trouble in such a quaint place even if she tried.

Shirava was hoping that this settlement could perhaps be the next place for her family to live, but she didn't have to spend much time there at all to realize it was far too small to be a good fit for them. Her small wagon was quickly unloaded after she pulled it up to the storehouse, and then she moved it off to the side where it would be safe for a short time while she explored the town to find something to eat before returning to Vel Stratholm.

Even though she was out of Anirian lands, Shirava pulled her hood forward and walked with her head down out of habit. As she walked away from the storehouse, she briefly looked up as a larger wagon went past her with a man lying on the back. She took a moment to make sure that was what she really saw before the cart went around the corner to presumably be unloaded, prompting her to continue walking. Although it was a small settlement, she initially walked in the wrong direction, moving away from the village's lone tavern. After spending a short amount of time exploring that side of the settlement, she eventually found her way into the tavern.

Her head still down as she entered the building, Shirava nearly walked into the back of a man who was standing right in front of the door. She took a step back and assessed the situation with her slightly bloodshot eyes peeking out between strands of her lifeless black hair. She first analyzed the multiple people with swords in front of her glaring at a lone man at the bar, whom she then recognized as the person she saw sleeping on the wagon earlier. Normally, she would immediately leave upon walking into a situation like this, but seeing this seemingly defenseless person being stared down by a pack of armed thugs made her hesitate.

Before speaking up, Shirava made sure to keep one hand on the open door behind her to prevent it from closing. This way, if the workers focused on her, she would be able to back up without bumping into a closed door. She considered drawing her pair of shortswords but decided against it for now, mostly to avoid marking herself as a clearly hostile target and partly because she really did not want blood on her hands today. That, and if they all turned on her now, she knew it wouldn't end well for her. The cheap leather armor underneath her dark and bulky cloak could protect her against only the most simple of weapons, and the blades in front of her seemed to be clearly sharp enough that they would have no problem cutting through it. Looking at the sword brandished by the man in front, she says, “Whatever this is, it's not worth it.”

The words came out of Shirava's mouth before she had a chance to think of her next move, but she felt compelled to act fast before the situation escalated further. With a gangly frame stretched to 5'9”, she wasn't a particularly intimidating person, but she hoped the pair of blades sheathed on either side of her belt were enough to back up her simple words even if she would have liked to avoid needing to draw them or one of her small throwing daggers.

 

[Gunner Valenntyne]

There were three of them, all armed with swords and slowly closing the distance between the doorway and Gunner like a pack of hungry wolves about to tear apart a helpless piece of meat. The man behind the bar, quietly ducked into a back room, wanting no part of the incoming violence. Gunner himself kept a stone face, but he was acutely aware of how dire the situation was. Three-on-one with fists he could manage, but those sharp edges, they weren't going to find much resistance in the thin fabric hanging off of Valenntyne's chest. It'd be like bare-knuckling a direclaw, and he'd already seen how that ends.

Reaching over, he quickly grabbed an empty bottle sitting on the bar, raising it up in front of himself as if it would do much good. Brandishing it in front of them didn't seem to discourage the fury in the disgruntled laborers' eyes; If anything they only moved faster, preparing to pounce on him all at once when...

“Whatever this is, it's not worth it.”

All four of the men stopped what they were doing as the sound of a woman's voice came from the doorway behind the three aggressors. Gunner shifted to one side, craning his neck and trying to look over the shoulders of the men as they turned around to try and discern who the hell thought it was okay to stick their nose in where it didn't belong. The scrawny, short stack of a girl looked like she'd just walked out of her first day of thief class, and the worker in the center, presumably the lead of the trio, snorted down at her gangly frame as he took a few steps toward her.

"Who the hell do you think you are, girly? This is man's business, you understand? Go find your parents, before you get yourself into trouble." Condescension dripped from every word that left his bearded lips, bloodshot eyes speaking to perhaps a touch of the evening's spirit inebriating his judgement, and the stench on his breath all but confirming it. Only when he got closer, did he take note of the weapons sheathed on her hips.

That made his smile grow wider.

"Lookithat, you've got some toys, too. You tryin' to scare me, girly? I can be real scary too. I can--"

The sudden sound of shattering glass interrupted the drunken worker's speech as a bottle collided with the back of his head, splintering into shards and sending the man down in an unconscious heap. Valenntyne silently thanked the Ancients for his aim, but only for a moment before the other two turned back around to charge at him in retaliation. Gunner leaped back, landing on top of the bar just as one of the swords buried itself in the side of the wooden counter and leaving its owner momentarily stuck.

"A little more help, if you would lass?" He called over to the strange girl, as he delivered a kick from atop the bar to the stuck fellow's dome and sending him stumbling back for a moment. "You've done splendid so far, really!"

Shirava Yazaltari

 

[Shirava Yazaltari]

As the man in the center moved forwards, Shirava took a step back towards the open door, and once he commented on her weapons, her right hand immediately jumped to the hilt of one of her blades. She was trying to think of something to say in an attempt to de-escalate the situation when things instead rapidly escalated faster than she could keep track of, causing the next few moments to become a blur bookended by two piercing noises: the shattering of glass and a plea for help.

For just a second, Shirava was surprised by the unarmed man's confidence. Not only was he successfully dealing with two thugs swinging swords at him, but between swings he was able to shout out much more coherently than she would have if their positions had been reversed. Unlike Shirava, it seemed clear he had been in a fight like this before. Although her mind was still focused on turning around and leaving, the adrenaline rushing through her limbs had other ideas as she charged into the tavern, quickly stepping around the unconscious man and drawing both of her shortswords.

At that moment, Shirava had no intentions of killing anyone and was hoping the recognizable sound of blades being unsheathed would be enough to pull the attention of one of the assailants off the unarmed man. Regardless of her line of work, she didn't enjoy getting unnecessary blood on her hands, and so far she wasn't convinced that the drunken workers needed to die.

As she hurried across the room, Shirava briefly considered hurling one of her throwing daggers at either of the men who remained standing, but pushed this thought aside as she could not fully trust her aim. Most importantly, she didn't want to miss and hit the person she was trying to help that stood right on the opposite side of the people she'd be aiming at.

Instead, Shirava rushed towards the nearest sword-wielding attacker. On the off-chance he didn't turn around, she would have smashed the back of his head with the hilt on her cheap sword. Otherwise, she was mainly hoping he'd stop swinging at her newfound ally and shift his focus to her. She was planning on trying to use her blades to block or deflect any attacks he might throw at her while looking for an opportunity to slam a blunt pommel into one of his weak spots, such as his temple or nose. However, even though she had spent a notable amount of time training alone to become used to moving and striking out using her weapons of choice, she had yet to spar with a target that could swing back. As a result, she had never actually used one of her swords to block an attack, so there was a high chance that if she managed to block an attack, it would send one of her shortswords clattering to the ground.

 

[Gunner Valenntyne]

Just about when the strange girl was admiring Gunner's composure, he was struggling to maintain it. Oh, Valenntyne had the brawn, but he was still outmatched, and no amount of fancy footwork was going to beat steel blades and bloodlust. If this lady hadn't shown up, he'd be far less confident about his chances, without a shadow of a doubt.

Luckily for Gunner, she didn't seem keen on leaving him hanging. The woman rushed forward towards the two conscious attackers, drawing two short blades with an echoing 'shclink' as she lunged for the man who still held a blade. Valenntyne wasn't about to wait to see what happened; He leaped from the bar and brought his elbow down on the other man, the one he'd just disarmed moments earlier. It connected with his shoulder, earning him a growling groan from seething teeth and a knee to his gut.

Gunner slumped over the knee with a cough, throbbing pain echoing through his gut as he dug his feet against the ground and tried to use his weight to take the man down.

Meanwhile, Shirava's target unfortunately wasn't quite dull enough to miss the sound of her swords unseathing or her approaching footsteps, however light they were. He turned just in time to see her pommel coming down towards his head and raised his blade to stop it. This only somewhat worked: Shirava's pommel clashed with her opponent's, pinning the man's thumb between the two handles and causing him to reel back in pain. "Kress sake, you broke it! You little shit!"

A bent thumb wasn't enough to stop him from taking a sweeping horizontal swing back at Shirava, albeit an awkward and poorly angled one. He didn't have a good grip on his hilt, thanks to his newly busted finger.

Gunner had managed to take his own opponent down, though not without some fresh bruises on his face. Vaenntyne mounted the vengeful labor worker, his broad body pinning him down and his forearm tucked under his chin to trap his neck and head against the floor. One well-placed strike to the dome to knock his lights out, and there was one less asshole for him to deal with.

He was more concerned with the last one, now bringing his blade up to try and cleave his new friend in two.

Shirava Yazaltari