Open Chronicles Underground Fighting Ring

[Eilerias]

Eilerias leaned back against the wall of the warehouse, taking deep breaths as the pain from both her wound and the people injuring one another faded to almost nothing. She shut her eyes and sat there for a few moments before a voice scared her. She flinched, opening her eyes and staring at the woman she had just ran into.

"I..uh...yeah. I should have been watching where I was walking. I'm sorry, I didn't mean to push you so hard." She laughed awkwardly, hoping she hadn't offended the woman who's entire fight she missed. "It's alright, ma'am, nothing I can't fix on my own! Fortunately I happen to be a healer." She looked down at the bloody mess covering her leg. "However unfortunately, wounds don't tend to clean themselves." She laughed at her own stupid jokes.

"Thank you for checking on me, I mean it." She smiled at the elven woman. "It was getting a little overwhelming, I suppose, in there and I just needed some fresh air. Again, I am so sorry for how rude that was of me." She noticed another figure coming from the building- Isak.

She could see he was trying not to show his worry, but she could read his emotions easily. "I'm alright, just needed some fresh air." She lied, waving off his concerns while conveniently leaving out details of the potion wearing off and her vomiting in the plant pot that was only a few feet away. "It was getting a little hard to breathe in that room. I think I cut myself on a broken bottle or something. It's quite alright though, it was only a little cut and I fixed it. I feel much better as well." She smiled, trying to convince him that everything she said was the full truth, though she knew he would still be upset at her healing herself.

Another figure approached, the man she had also pushed through. "I'm sorry sir, I didn't mean to offend you." She apologized to the man, noticing Isak looked a little on edge as she was approached. For a moment, she began to worry that she had really fucked up and the two were upset with her, but when he knelt down with bandages, she smiled. "It's quite alright sir," She smeared the blood that still covered her ankle to show there was no cut. "I just need some water and a cloth to clean it and I'll be good as new!" She pushed herself off the ground and wiped the dirt off her cloak.

She was a bit wary of going back into the warehouse, the potions didn't seem to last as long as she was led to believe, but she did want to spend a bit more time with her friends before she was back to her usual routine of sleeping, eating, and sadly watching over her former student take over her lessons.

 

[Urchin]

"Urchin! Hey there, lad!" She exclaimed joyously. She wrapped an arm around him, happy to see him. She bent to one knee.

"Nice ta see ya!" the lad declared happily, hugging her back.

"Oh is he? He seems...Nice..."

"Oh yeah, Mort's real nice! You'll like 'im. Maybe you'll get ta fight 'im later if 'e wins," Urchin somewhat doubted that though. Fist was one tough bastard.

"Have you kept your promise?"

"Uhh..." Urchin mumbled... What promise was that? ... Oh yeah! His promise that he'd never pickpocket again. "Uh... ... ... Sure! Yeah, sure! Been a real good boy, I 'ave! I swear!" Not true in the slightest. But at least this little venture was a step in the right direction. Instead of directly stealing money from others, he was simply bleeding a bunch of idiots dry with an assortment of gambling, alcohol, drugs and whores. That was much better, right?

"How about you then? Ya signin' up fer the fights?" he asked, holding up his little notebook just in case. "Uh... Ya know, ya never did give me a name before. If ya wanna fight then Perrault's gonna need a name ta announce ya by. Doesn't need ta be yer real name if ya dun want, just summin' fer the crowd ta cheer when ya win." Of course, Urchin completely understood the reluctance for a person to divulge their real name (though for a completely different reason.)

Meanwhile, in the ring, things were getting rather heated. Fist was throwing himself at Mortimer with every ounce of strength that he had, but his opponent certainly had speed on his side. Fist was struggling to lad so much as a single punch, and this embarrassment on top of Mortimer delivering a sound kick to to the back of his wounded leg made this charging bull of a man absolutely furious.

"Insolent pup," the man yelled as he turned to face Mortimer again. With his rage started to build, Fist lunged at Mortimer, both hands raised in an attempt to grab the smaller man by his throat and physically choke him. If he succeeded... Well, Fist could potentially choke the life out of Mortimer if he got a good enough grip. That said, the way his hands were held at the same level meant that the attack could potentially be dodged by a smaller, quicker opponent such as Mortimer. It was all down to luck and skill.

 

[Alima Aiken]

"Uhh..." Urchin mumbled... What promise was that? ... Oh yeah! His promise that he'd never pickpocket again. "Uh... ... ... Sure! Yeah, sure! Been a real good boy, I 'ave! I swear!" Not true in the slightest. But at least this little venture was a step in the right direction. Instead of directly stealing money from others, he was simply bleeding a bunch of idiots dry with an assortment of gambling, alcohol, drugs and whores. That was much better, right?

Her gaze turned from the ring to Urchin. "You know I have people keeping a watchful eye on you. You realize this, correct?" She gave a devilish smirk, knowing that what Urchin just told her wasn't the truth.

"How about you then? Ya signin' up fer the fights?" he asked, holding up his little notebook just in case. "Uh... Ya know, ya never did give me a name before. If ya wanna fight then Perrault's gonna need a name ta announce ya by. Doesn't need ta be yer real name if ya dun want, just summin' fer the crowd ta cheer when ya win." Of course, Urchin completely understood the reluctance for a person to divulge their real name (though for a completely different reason.)

"Sign up, huh?" She thought for a moment, looking back at the ring, seeing Mortimer fight against a total brute. She gave Urchin a warm smile. "If it helps keep you out of trouble, I'll sign up." She took the notebook and wrote her name across a thin line. Ryna Silverthorn. She handed the notebook back to Urchin. "There. Now, if you'll excuse me..." She excused herself and walked outside, wobbling a bit. As she reached the door, she pulled out a cigar, lit it up and took a long drag.

 

[Samara Asenta]

Samara smiled across at Honey as the woman poured the ale. Just ale, was it? Economical but satisfying as a beverage. Fitting for Mute. He didn't seem the type to spend bags of coin on overly expensive liquor. "The same. One shares a drink with a worthy opponent." Provided they weren't forced to kill one another, anyway. "And thank you," for complimenting her fighting ability.

Like the shared drink, chatting with the lovely bartender wouldn't last too long. An injured, frantic beauty had a way of drawing the eye; and a lack of 'mind your own business' had the Dark Elf following after. What kind of Hunter would she be if she minded her own business? A poor one in more ways than one.

Despite Eilerias' sickly tone from having thrown up, the previously injured woman did seem in otherwise good condition. Her confirmation of being a healer certainly explained the lack of injury. A soft, humoring laugh followed the lamentation in how such magic did not cleanse cloth as well. "An inconvenience I know well," the Elven woman replied with a smile. If only one's self-regenerative ability could hide the blood stained evidence of absent wounds.

"It wasn't rude. I'm just glad to see you're not still hurt." Then a man's voice drew Samara to look over her shoulder. It was the authority figure from earlier. Apparently the lady in distress had powerful friends.

Mute also surfaced outdoors with some bandages in hand. A thoughtful gesture punctuated by the strong, silent man offering to tend Eilerias.

Samara planted her hands on her hips with a smirk. Seemed the three of them were doting on this woman quite heavily. "And a few more minutes out here perhaps. It's stuffy in there, after all." Well, a little more 'excessive' consideration in Eilerias' benefit wouldn't kill her. Despite the lively voice, there'd been a look to the other woman's eyes. A reluctance to run back inside to prove everything was just fine. Whatever the reason, an excuse to linger a while longer hurt no one.

The Dark Elf made a half turn to look back in the direction of the doors when she heard them open. Alima Aiken stepped through them and began to light up a cigar. Well, perhaps the goddess would be generous and-- Well that wasn't going to happen. Perhaps whatever deity Eilerias believed in then would turn the currents of air in her favor to keep the air clean then.

The bright blues of the Elf shifted to Isak since she'd already turned. "Friend of the Lady's?"

 

[Isak Lavelle]

Isak could barely hide his worry as he approached them, checking to see if Eilerias was hurt and surprising himself to see the blood in her clothes. He could feel his heart sinking, his mind already full with thoughts about bringing that whole building down on whoever had the nerve to touch her, but Eilerias could always read him well, quickly assuring him that it was just a small cut after tripping on a broken bottle in the lobby.

He wondered if her running through the lobby had anything to do with his interrogation of Khalid in that back room, as well as her sudden disappearance from it, but he'd wait for when they were alone to ask her.

They were joined by yet another man, another one of Urchin's acquaintances that Isak had seen earlier, but instead of a proper introduction, there was only silence as he went straight to offer some clean bandages to Eilerias. The man wasn't ignoring them, Isak could very much see that, and he could sense some familiarity between him and the woman who was talking to Eilerias before, but he just... didn't speak.

That was odd, even for Isak, but he wouldn't press the matter now. He had been wary of that man at first, but he felt some small gratitude to him for his thoughtful gesture towards Eilerias. She showed them that the cut had already been closed, thanks to her healing magic, which made Isak worry even more, knowing the toll it sometimes took on her body. But she assured him it had been just a small cut, and she looked much better now, much to Isak's relief.

Isak offered her his gloved hand as she got up, gently bringing her closer to him. "I'll have Perrault fetch those for you, love." He said calmly, shooting her a small yet charming smile. He somehow agreed with Samara - a few more minutes out in the cold winds of Alliria's streets would be a much needed pause from all the heated fights back inside the building. He would let Perrault and Urchin deal with any other troubles in the meanwhile.

Isak followed Samara's gaze to another woman who just appeared on the street, lighting up a cigar and walking alone, probably to clear her mind. He pondered on her question for a short moment, glancing at Eilerias with a loving demeanor. "More than a friend." He answered, referring to Eilerias. He squeezed the priestess' hand gently before opening up his smile a bit. He hoped she would like his more friendly gestures towards those strangers.

After all, there could be no harm in making some 'friends' at that night, with so many new faces about.

"I'm afraid we haven't been properly introduced yet. I am Isak, an associate of Urchin's." He spoke with much more etiquette than before, showing more of his refined social side. He recognized the woman from one of the fights, and he had seen her with Urchin before. Isak recalled that Samara and Mute had fought in the bout previous to his own match with Khalid, and they had surely entertained the crowd with a impressive display of combat.

That kid surely had his share of interesting connections.

Isak waited for Eilerias to introduce herself as well before continuing. "Tell me; what business brings you to Alliria?"

He tilted his head towards Mute, expanding the question to him as well. He was a tad intrigued by the sort of people that Urchin knew.

 

[Alima Aiken]

After finishing her cigar, Ryna sighed. She walked into the crowded building. Urchin had bold-faced lied to her about the promise he had made. She shook her head. Walking to the ring-side, she looked down at her hands. She was paler than normal. She hadn't been feeling herself, recently.

"Damn Ryna, get a grip!" She said to herself. She rubbed her head and yawned. The fight she was going into was most likely not gonna be easy. Urchin knows she very much has the will and determination. She smiled just at the thought of Urchin.

Urchin was like a little brother to Ryna, though she could never tell him this. He has people around him that she probably wouldn't get along with. She leaned against the ring, feeling weak and out of breath.

"Shit..."

 

[Mortimer Greenweaver]

Oh man, he was getting a work out. It was a good thing he had prepared for the fight, as if he hadn't he was sure to've had a lot more bruises on him by now, yet he himself hadn't landed anything noticeable. Sure he got off that lucky shot at Fist's leg by accident, but it hadn't taken the bull down like he had sort of hoped. Did it count as hoping for it if the plan was to eventually hit it, but not when he did? Didn't matter, this magical matador was likely to wear more red if he didn't come up with a new plan of attack after his semi-mistake.

"Insolent pup,"

As soon as Fist whipped himself around with that..okay insult, the small motions that he'd normally see with his enhanced sight were much more noticeable on the warg-boy's beefy body. At first he thought it was going to be a fist flying at his face just like before and prepared to perform yet another narrow dodge, but instead as he saw the whites of the man's palms he had to immediately drop down into another roll to his left this time to opponent's to avoid his precious neck from the very real threat of his blood circulation being cut off, and to hopefully give himself a little more breathing room. If his assumptions were correct, Fist would likely be defending his weak leg even harder now, so turning him was the clear counter.

"I told you to come at me with all that you have, or was that too hard to understand?"

Once he'd get out of his roll he'd try to land a few more hits on Fist, aiming to hit to the back of his right knee this time, though if Fist had anticipated him correctly he'd try to bring it down onto the man's foot instead. The back was really tempting, the spine being a solid weak point. Problem was that he didn't know where to hit if he wanted to paralyze or kill, so that was off the table. Breaking knees and toes though? They could be healed, so no worries there. Seriously though, did Fist need to go for his neck? That was rude, that's what it was.

"Where's that Ixchel gusto? I can't be the only one wondering that, isn't that right fellows?!"

Mort was grinning like a man possessed and he was holding in laughter from facing the dark void of unnatural sleep yet again. Get the crowd on his side, get Fist to enter a blinding rage, lower his spirits with the crowd wondering if the man before them had actually beaten a Warg. It was a risky play, Fist could be the sort of person who thrived on people saying he couldn't. If that was the case though, it would give Mort what he wanted.

 

[Eilerias]

Eilerias laced her fingers with Isak's as he pulled her to his side. "It's alright Isak, I'm sure we could just ask Honey for some water and one of the rags from behind the bar. No need to bother Perrault." She said quietly to Isak, hoping he wouldn't bother the man for such a small issue.

She took a deep breath, enjoying the crisp air that always came with the nights in Alliria. Though she missed Fal'Addas and even Vel'Anir, there was no place quite like Alliria. She thought to herself, enjoying the night before she heard yet another disturbance at the door. She watched Ryna walk out from behind the group, lighting a cigar before Isak said something.

She blushed and looked away as he made an attempt to describe their relationship. "Fiance." She corrected him. Of course being with Isak, she had constant anxiety over her status within the church questioned as she quite obviously had broken many oaths she had taken ages ago when joining but there was someone higher up watching out for her and Isak, ensuring her status would remain despite her actions.

She waited for Isak to finish his introduction to give hers. "I am Eilerias, the priestess from the Church of Light just in the outskirts of Alliria, a healer within. I, too, suppose I am an associate of Urchin, though I don't do as much as Charity or the others with him." She figured Isak had made some connection between these people and Urchin, so she decided to throw in her ties with the kid.

"It is quite stuffy in there, I agree." She nodded thoughtfully, wanting to stay outside for a while longer, though she did want to move away from the pot that contained the dying plant and vomit before Isak realized she had been sick. "I bet she's fighting." She nudged Isak. "That's probably why she's here. Probably why so many people are here tonight. Its truly a wonder how no guards have shown up to shut it down with how fast words spread around here."

 

[Urchin]

"You know I have people keeping a watchful eye on you. You realize this, correct?"

"... Wait, ya what?" Urchin asked nervously, not quite sure how serious Ryna was. "Uh... What people? An' how watchful?" he asked, hoping desperately that he remembered to close the curtains every time he took a wash. Honestly, the idea that there were people he didn't know watching him was pretty scary.

She took the notebook and wrote her name across a thin line. Ryna Silverthorn. She handed the notebook back to Urchin. "There. Now, if you'll excuse me..."

"Ah, nice!" Urchin said enthusiastically, taking the notebook back and awkwardly looking at it, wishing that he could actually read. Oh well. Once he fight started and her name was announced, he'd finally know it. "Wait, where ya goin'?" he wondered as Ryna went outside. Something was up, and he wasn't really sure what to make of it.

Eventually, Ryna stumbled back inside and Urchin wondered over to her. "Hey, ya ain't mad at me are ya?" he asked timidly. She seemed a bit upset that he had lied to her, though in all honesty, he didn't think she'd actually expect him to keep that problem. "Oh come on now, Miss. That ain't fair. We all gotta make our money somehow. How'm I s'posed ta eat if I ain't workin'?" Well, some might not exactly call petty theft working, but it was certainly work to him. All of that running away from the city guard worked up a sweat.

"'Sides, ya seem ta find yerself in sticky situations more often than me," the lad pointed out. "What do you do what gets ya inta so much trouble? An' what if someone made ya promise ya wouldn't do that no more? How would ya live then?" He certainly had a point there, but now might not be the best time to bring it up. Ryna seemed like something was wrong with her. Even going so far as to lean against the ring in the middle of a fight. "Woah, woah, woah!" he exclaimed, taking hold of Ryna's shoulders and pulling her away from the ring before one of the competitors fell on her. "Hey, Miss, ya feelin' okay?" he asked, concerned. "Maybe it ain't such a good idea fer ya to fight after all. You ain't lookin' so good."

Just as well that Urchin had pulled Ryna away when he did, as shortly after, Fist came crashing down against the net, following Mortimer's kick to the back of his left knee. The pair got a good look at the barbarian's face, which had turned bright red in both rage and exhaustion. With a growl, the giant of a man got back to his feet, turning to face Mortimer once again. "Sneaky little bastard!" he roared out in anger. "I'll wring your scrawny little neck!" And this time, he actually made good on his word, finally tackling Mortimer in a move he wasn't quick enough to dodge, he managed to pin the man to the ground with his superior weight before wrapping both of his fists around Mortimer's neck in an attempt to choke the life out of him.

"Oh, fuck!" Urchin declared, suddenly regretting his decision to partner Mort with such an aggressive opponent. His desire to make a quick buck may soon end up costing the poor man his life. "Get 'im, Mort!" Urchin cheered. "Hit 'im! Kick'im! Gauge 'is eyes out! Kick 'im in the nuts!" he suggested, though things for his friend were starting to look very bleak indeed.

 

[Mute]

"It's quite alright sir," She smeared the blood that still covered her ankle to show there was no cut. "I just need some water and a cloth to clean it and I'll be good as new!"

Mute nodded at that suggestion, slipping the bandages into his pocket. She was right, the cut didn't look like it would cause too much damage, though it would no doubt be nasty to walk on. The lady should definitely try to take it easy for awhile. Luckily the lady's gentleman friend offered to have someone fetch the items for her. Clearly he had either wealth or influence in this area if he had people to go back and forth fetching items for him.

"I'm afraid we haven't been properly introduced yet. I am Isak, an associate of Urchin's."

Ah, now Mute knew who he was! This even't generous benefactor. Well, he'd certainly be walking away tonight with a nice, tidy profit. Honestly, when Mute had first heard about Urchin's little hare brained scheme for this less than little fighting competition, he'd expected the boy to completely fuck everything up. Funnily enough, he'd been pleasantly surprised. Despite not even being able to read his numbers, the boy had a surprising amount of common sense where finances were involved. This little enterprise was shaping up to be a great success, so long as the Allirian guard didn't show up at the last minute.

"Tell me; what business brings you to Alliria?"

Much as he'd like to explain himself, Mute turned towards Samara, thinking it was best to delegate to her rather than try to explain with what limited sign language he knew.

 

[Samara Asenta]

The Dark Elf regarded Isek as he gave a vague response and then Eilerias as she concisely described the pair's relationship. If Samara were forced to admit it aloud, 'fiance' was not anywhere near the top of the list had the Elven woman been forced to guess. Especially when the other woman introduced herself as a member of the Church of Light.

Thoughts on their relationship skipped a small beat at Eilerias' introduction. It was only natural. Often times any organize that allied itself with "The Light" was full of zealotry. So even if Samara was not deathly allergic to light as many other Vampire bloodlines, such a group could still prove lethal. They'd no doubt take their time figuring out what her weaknesses were and using them to end her very existence.

Worse, Samara was only half worried about being killed. A great deal of concern went for the members of the Church and any innocent civilians around should anyone try securing and executing her. The fiend whose presence darkened Samara's soul almost never intervened even when it seemed the Elf was sure to die; but when it came to a religious squabble such as Light vs Dark, Samara was certain She would intervene and it would be very bloody. Something to do with an ancient battle between the Cosmic Pantheon and the Dark Ones. Noxomarchy, Samara believed it was called.

Now, then, about someone that supported illegal fight clubs and a member of the Church... Interesting. And, perhaps, a little hopeful. Then again, a person's ability to hold two incompatible positions was usually limited to a very specific set of circumstances -- like one's lover. Still a good chance if Eilerias found out Samara was a Vampire the healer might not be inclined to overlook it. Depending on regional tolerances of her kind. More importantly, if she ever so much as thought Samara was influenced by a Dark One... well now that would be messy. Not much tolerance for that openly almost anywhere.

A smile spread over Samara's dark lips when Isak shifted to introductions. "Asenta. Samara Asenta. Mercenary and Acquirer of Rare Antiquities," she replied in kind. Seemed appropriate to emphasize the less morally-aligned (compared to Bounty Hunter) and criminal aspects of her new lifestyle given present company; but that was only true to someone in the Business, so to speak. An outstanding civil servant like a Church Healer wouldn't find those titles offensive. Not compared to 'Hitman' or 'Assassin' and 'Thief' or 'Tomb Raider.'

"Also an associate of Urchin's," the Elven woman paused to gesture to Mute, "and Mute. It's a pleasure to make your acquaintances." Though Samara wouldn't mind deepening the relationship. Even with a Healer of the Church of Light. One never knew when solid connections would come in handy when you traveled as much as she did.

Not to mention business ventures with someone like Isak. "Opportunity." A simple enough reason to be in Alliria given its reputation. "A city as grand and well off as this is only possible through retaining meticulous and dauntless personages. I travel quite a bit and have a number of skills that could be of use. In return, I expect I'll learn quite a bit of the region, its people, fighting techniques, and even have the privilege of examining a private collection or two of ancient tomes." Maybe she couldn't cast magic any longer, but that didn't mean knowledge of mystical matters was meaningless.

Samara smiled over at Mute before she dropped a hand upon his shoulder; not too harshly, of course. "My silent friend, Mute, is here for similar, but different reasons. Plenty of Opportunity for wealth to be had in such a luxuriously wealthy city. A little stability in financial flow would do nicely." She rolled her head slightly to the side with her eyes on Mute in question if she were wrong. "As you saw, he's a capable fighter, but also quite the strategist." Hopefully a decent sell if Isak were involved in the Business of not-quite-legal activities.

"And keeps Urchin from more trouble than he can handle." Because someone had to. Surely Isak always wondered how such a carefree, overly talkative, and reactionary youth had managed to avoid the inside of a jail cell for most of his life. That alone was worthy of praise, no?

 

[Alima Aiken]

Eventually, Ryna stumbled back inside and Urchin wondered over to her. "Hey, ya ain't mad at me are ya?" he asked timidly. She seemed a bit upset that he had lied to her, though in all honesty, he didn't think she'd actually expect him to keep that problem. "Oh come on now, Miss. That ain't fair. We all gotta make our money somehow. How'm I s'posed ta eat if I ain't workin'?" Well, some might not exactly call petty theft working, but it was certainly work to him. All of that running away from the city guard worked up a sweat.

"I asked you to stay out of trouble. That's seems fair enough to me. You need to find a way to make money, instead of stealing it." Ryna said, scratching her head. Her hand went to the rings edge to support her and hold her up.

"'Sides, ya seem ta find yerself in sticky situations more often than me," the lad pointed out. "What do you do what gets ya inta so much trouble? An' what if someone made ya promise ya wouldn't do that no more? How would ya live then?" He certainly had a point there, but now might not be the best time to bring it up. Ryna seemed like something was wrong with her. Even going so far as to lean against the ring in the middle of a fight. "Woah, woah, woah!" he exclaimed, taking hold of Ryna's shoulders and pulling her away from the ring before one of the competitors fell on her. "Hey, Miss, ya feelin' okay?" he asked, concerned. "Maybe it ain't such a good idea fer ya to fight after all. You ain't lookin' so good."

Ryna looked at Urchin and sighed. "I'm fine..." She said as she stood straight. Upon standing, her knees felt extremely weak. She reached for the pouch of powder that pushed all the pain and weakness under the rug. Only one thing stood in the way of her consuming the powder and that was Urchin. He could very well think it was something it isn't. He might think it's a cheat for the fight she was going to take part in. All possibilities and this situation could go many different ways.

 

[Mortimer Greenweaver]

Having two hands the size of plump chickens each was not exactly the best situation, and yet the nightmare scenario had happened. He could really only blame himself for getting the berserker to berserk, but that's what he wanted, and he'd never take it back, and he likely wouldn't unless he found a way to get said meat packages removed from their tight grip around his neck. It didn't help that he was dazed for a second when he hit the ground, so he had even less time to act.

"Get 'im, Mort!" Urchin cheered. "Hit 'im! Kick'im! Gauge 'is eyes out! Kick 'im in the nuts!"

It wasn't the easiest thing to hear as he was disassociating, but the sound of Urchin's voice helped focus his mind again. Sure he was pinned, but while the weight in him was getting to the point of painful, his arms and legs were free and would be the key to his salvation. Lowering his chin as much as he could, he'd grab the wrists of fist and begin to pull them away as he kneed him in the groin. Upon impact Fist's grip loosened for a second as he roared in pain, letting the blood flow to Mort's brain again and giving him more time. So he struck again before the man could block it, this time kicking the nether regions with his left leg, pushing down with his right and lurching to his left to roll Fist off of him as he was distracted by the pain.

Feeling the weight of the man getting off of him almost made Mort want to take a breather and enjoy the sweet relief, but had to power through it and enjoy the feeling afterwards. He'd get up and see Fist was also getting up, so he'd deliver another kick, this time to the gut, and watched as he knocked the wind out of Fist. The warrior took a knee, catching himself with a free hand but Mort had had enough, he kicked the inside of the man's elbow and he fell back down. Then Mort, delivered a strike to the kidney and one final strike to the man's weak leg. He didn't trust the Warg-man to give though, and with a good amount of difficulty pushed the man out of the ring before he could properly recover.

He'd speak again once Fist was pushed out, the sound coming from the palms of his covered hands. "By the Courts that hurt, but you lost the moment you tried to knock me out like that. Really, you should've stuck to your namesake and just hit me." He'd then nurse his neck with one of his hands and let his body slowly heal, suppressing his magic that would normally be used in tandem. Asphyxiation, why did everyone try to asphyxiate him. He won though, and he'd pick up his belongings as Perrault did his thing.

 

[Diedrick]

Alain didn't allow the announcer to pipe up before invading the ring. He hopped over the barricades, landing feet first with feline grace. Other than Fist and Diedrick, he was by far the most muscular person in the room, standing a nick above two meters from crown to feet.

Alain's build spoke volumes of hard work, like someone who grabbed a heavy object, lifted it, and repeated the motion a few million times. It was the kind of body forged in the fires of combat, and none could deny that. Alain had plenty of scars to prove it, yet he carefully hid them behind baggy clothes and long sleeves.

The announcer was about to say something when Alain cut him off, dramatically coughing to catch the crowd's attention. "I am Alain Ranour," he proclaimed, faintly curling his lips in a show of dominance, "and I'll be the next combatant, so observe gingerly, lest you risk missing my astounding performance!" Alain's emerald orbs scanned the crowd with utmost impatience, finally locking onto Diedrick's still sitting form. The taller male knew that it was his cue to go, getting up and trotting towards the ring with a relaxed expression plastered all over. Unlike Alain, Diedrick took things slow and steady, sliding under the ropes as he straightened his back, hearing them crack and pop.

He was already shirtless, having discarded some unnecessary clothing articles before handing them to one of the workers. The man took them without flinching, folding the fabric neatly before exiting the ring's perimeters. Diedrick wanted to thank the stranger but was unable to do so in the heat of the moment. It was just Alain and him now.

Diedrick's semi-naked, healthily tanned frame spun to meet Alain's gaze. The knight grinned, earning himself a small snort from the taller male.

"I see that someone's grown beefier. You are turning into a real meat-head," chided Alain, only to have his remarks brushed off by Diedrick.

"You ought to be kidding me. This early?" groaned the musclebound humanoid, referring to Alain's antics. He hadn't expected the knight to challenge him so soon. The whole deal went against Alain's modus operandi.

"Fine, fine, but give me a second." Diedrick relented, going through the motions that placed his body in a combat-ready state. He switched with the Tyrant, allowing the symbiote to take hold of his subconsciousness while he retained total control over thoughts and actions. Diedrick felt his muscles relaxing to an unnatural degree, leaving his upper body limp for a handful of seconds. It was like a total reboot of his muscle-skeletal structure, something that'd allow him to nigh-perfectly control the flow of power. Much like water, he had every intention of retaining fluidity in all aspects of motion.

"Shouldn't have been sitting the whole time," Diedrick's words grew jaded, for he was all too annoyed by his own actions. Immobilizing himself, even if only temporarily nullified the positive effects of his previous exercise. Damn Urchin for not letting him fight sooner. They were wasting precious time now.

Once sufficiently satisfied with the outcome, Diedrick pointed the flat of his palm at Alain, signaling that they could adopt their respective stances. Alain placed his feet at the hip-width, with his back straight but ready to flex at any moment. Alain's lead arm slid across his torso with the tip of his leading elbow forward. He rested his other, non-dominant hand just under the chin. Finally, Alain hunched his lead shoulder up toward his ear and tucked his chin to protect the face as much as possible.

Diedrick's stance appeared far more orthodox, if not more natural, judging by his position. He held his elbows tucked in, feet at shoulder width with the leading foot and the leading hand placed forward. Diedrick kept his chin tucked in, yet his back never bent, remaining straight as an arrow. Unlike Alain, who leaned back, Diedrick placed more weight on his back leg while keeping both heels raised faintly.

The announcer scratched his head, mildly surprised by the progress of events. He reached into his pocket, unfolding a piece of paper with the names of participating fighters on it. He found Alain within seconds, confirming the man's application. Moments later, he did the same for Diedrick.

"Our other applicant is," squinted the spindly male, "Diedrick Rivendare from the city of Elbion."

The two contenders exchanged an unspoken agreement, dictating when the fight would commence. Alain lunged first, corded muscles sending him at Diedrick like a dart. He moved with quicksilver-like fleetness, far greater than what a mortal man should've been capable of achieving. Diedrick did well to guesstimate the gap when Alain unleashed a barrage of lightning-quick jabs. They were a little more than a harassment technique, but the blows Diedrick stopped with his forearms still stung, even if only slightly.

Perrault had to flee the ring that instant, his footfalls pounding the planks with such force that one had to wonder why the old fellow had so much energy left in him. In truth, the man feared for his life, unused to working with fighters who woefully refused to follow basic rules. Ultimately there was little he could do to stop them other than holing behind the nearest set of barricades, keenly observing for any misconducts.

Urchin
Alima Aiken

 

[Alima Aiken]

Ryna's hand went away from her bag of powder and instead onto the ring. Her knees became weaker and weaker with every step she took to get over to it. Her gaze became fuzzy and her knees buckled from underneath her. She fell to the planked floor with a thud in front of Urchin, coughing up a bit of the powdery substance and blood. She was in too much pain to move.

Ryna was slowly dying. At least, that's all she could figure. It wasn't entirely her fault. She had been smoking and drinking, yes, but she hadn't gotten here on her own. An enemy, well recent enemy brought her to Alliria. Prior to this event, her and that enemy had an altercation.

One that didn't end in good tidings. Something was rubbed on her skin and on her wounds. Maybe that is what is doing this to her now.

Ryna slowly reached her hand up to Urchin. "I'm sorry..." She said breathlessly. "Stay out....of....trouble...." She coughed a bit more before putting her hand back to the planked floor.

 

[Isak Lavelle]

A short smile sprouted on Isak's face as Eilerias corrected him, offering a better and more thorough description of their relationship. He could see that the priestess still blushed and looked nervous whenever they spoke about it, especially in such a open manner, probably worrying about her status as one of the clergy.

Isak had been hard at work on protecting her as best he could, his methods ranging from bribes, lucrative deals and even intimidation, all in order to preserve her position. He also counted on Gilgamesh's mysterious influence all over the city, even as far as rooting himself inside her Church of Light, gaining their support and slowly but surely changing some of their ideals in regards to their most strict vows.

Lavelle had swore before that he would make Eilerias happy and that she would still maintain her dreams of saving people's lives with both her healing and her work at the church, and that's what he was doing.

He caressed her hand a bit, looking at Eilerias for a moment. "No one will defeat Charity, at least not legally. She has her many tricks, like most fighters down there, although she may be smarter than all of them." He tried to reassure the priestess, but Isak was starting to wonder if there was something else troubling her mind. Still, they were hardly in somewhere private enough so that they could speak freely about anything, so Isak would hold his questions for the time being.

He looked back at Samara again, acknowledging her introduction and also of the man beside her, the one seemingly called... Mute. Now it all made sense, his lack of words. Isak looked very much interested as Samara spoke of her skills and goals in travelling around the continent, a purveyor of antiquities was something rare and so very valuable in a region with so many secrets buried and long forgotten.

Eilerias nudged him now, worried about what the guards would do if they ever found out about that little fighting business, with Isak merely smiling confidently in return. "You forget the reach of my own influence, my love. The Allirian Guard has its flaws, and many of those can be connected to a purse filled with coin." He explained, referring to the bribes that he made to keep some of the Guard on his pockets. He knew Eilerias, always so good and righteous, wasn't really fond of such shady activities, but Isak always wanted to impress his future wife, even if his idea of courtship was a bit devious at times. "They won't trouble us, Perrault and Urchin worked with me for weeks in order to guarantee that."

That was also one of the reasons they were holding that event so far away from the bulk of the city itself, in a remote area where no guard would ever be foolish enough to bother looking, fearing the cold sting of a blade in the dark.

"Now, there is indeed a wealth of opportunity in a place like Alliria. I only wonder what kind would interest you." Isak looked at Samara and Mute, intrigued as to what manner of opportunites those two were seeking. They seemed to share some common ground now, perhaps thanks to Urchin and his deep connection to all kinds of people in the city, and Isak seemed interested enough in the talents they displayed in that fight. Samara attested to Mute's great sense of strategy, and from some of the moves Isak saw in their fight, he could tell that they were both deadly fighters.

"Once we are all bored of those little brawls that Urchin has arranged, you two are most welcome at the Raven Club. It's not far from here, and surely more comfortable than that old building." He spoke casually, wrapping his arm around Eilerias as he felt the night growing even colder.

Isak looked to be very interested in the opportunities that Samara and Mute could bring to him. "Should we share some of our favorite wine with our new friends, my love?" He playfully asked Eilerias, already expecting her to be happy to meet new people, especially when she knew that Isak didn't always share that same kindness and optimism, but he could make an exception now.

Any friends of Urchin could be considered his friends, especially when they looked so particularly resourceful.

 

[Urchin]

"I asked you to stay out of trouble. That's seems fair enough to me. You need to find a way to make money, instead of stealing it."

Urchin sighed at Ryna's assumption that he could simply find another way to make money. "Ain't that easy, ya know," he defended himself. "Been doin' this all my life. I dun really know 'ow ta do nuthin' else... I mean, I do a few odd jobs here an' there for extra coins, but there ain't always odd jobs ta be 'ad. An' then ya get some real assholes who get ya to do the work an' dun even pay ya for it afterwards. Ain't like the guard is gonna do anythin' about it, so ya just gotta write it off as a lost cause an' find the coin somewhere else. If I tried to make a living off legit work, I'd probably 'ave starved ta death by now." Of course, urchin wouldn't be trying so hard to defend himself if he knew the truth about Ryna. In fact, he'd probably have just laughed at the irony to hear an assassin telling a thief that they needed to find a way to make an honest living. It was a prime example of the pot calling the kettle black. Still, he had no idea that Ryna held such a dark secret, and assumed that she made her living legitimately, considering how she judged him for his own lifestyle. Even Eilerias didn't preach to him like Ryna did, and preaching was kind of her job.

The boy was distracted from his worries though when Fist suddenly fell from the ring almost landing on the pair of them, shocking the entire crowd with a surprise victory for Mortimer. "Wooooo!" the lad cheered, jumping up and down when the victory was announced. Pushing through other members of the crowd, he waited until Mortimer left the ring before pouncing on the guy, (completely thoughtless of his friend's injuries) and clinging to his back like a monkey. "Ya did it Mort! Ya kicked that muscle head's ass to Elbion an' back! By all the God's tits an' balls, you obliterated 'im! Honest, I 'ad no idea you could do that! Where'd ya learn ta fight like that? That were amazing!"

Once the excitement had died down a bit, Urchin released his grip o Mortimer and dropped off his shoulders as he watched the next fight commence... Well, this wasn't right. Looked like the guy Diedrick had been talking to suddenly jumped into the ring, announcing to all that he would be the next combatant... "Well, that's news ta me," Urchin muttered under his breath. "I 'ad Didi down ta fight that dwarven berserker next. Arrogant prick, thinks 'e doesn't 'ave ta wait 'is turn like everybody else." Well, Diedrick certainly wasn't complaining about going up against the guy, so Urchin certainly wasn't going to correct it. Hopefully Diedrick would teach the man a lesson. "Beat the shit outta 'im, Didi!" Urchin cheered, excited to see how this fight would turn out.

The boy was happily watching the fight, cheering every time Diedrick threw a punch... But his attention was soon taken from the fight by something a lot more concerning. Out of nowhere, Ryna suddenly collapsed to the ground "Miss?" Urchin asked, concerned, dropping to his knees to see what was wrong with her. His eyes went wide when he realized that this was more than just simple fatigue. There was something seriously wrong with her. And... Was that blood?

"I'm sorry..." She said breathlessly. "Stay out....of....trouble...."

"Miss Eile!" Urchin called out for the healer instinctively. "Miss Eile, 'elp! Someone! Anyone!" He was scared. An injury on the outside of the body, he could wrap in bandages, but internal damage... He had no idea what to do.

 

[Eilerias]

"It's nice to meet you Samara!" Eilerias extended a hand to shake, "It sounds like you've got quite an exciting life! I'd love to acquire rare things, but it's not really a common occurrence in my line of work." She laughed for a moment before turning to Mute. "It is nice to meet you as well, Mute! Thank you so much for looking after Urchin. You must know Charity, then! The two of you are saints for keeping him out of trouble. He's such a good kid. He's been really helpful to me."

She turned to Isak, glad he extended the offer. "Yes, please! Like a little after party. If you need a place to stay, we are currently working on renovating some of the upstairs into an inn. Only a few of the rooms are complete, but you are more than welcome to spend some time there." She was getting excited over the idea of having more people to talk to around there. "I cannot partake in the wine drinking, but I can help set up some games to entertain you with. Oh! And if you stay overnight, Ogden makes the best sausage and eggs, I swear!"

She continued her excited rambling for a few more seconds before one of her acolytes came running to her for help, telling her something about Urchin screaming for her. "Pardon me!" She excused herself, running off with the healer to find Urchin hovering over the woman. "What is it? What's wrong?" She questioned, kneeling next to Urchin to inspect Ryna. "What happened to her?"

 

[Diedrick]

Alain had the advantage in raw speed. Years of magical abuse turned his body into a superhuman machine. He could invoke feats of inhuman proportions without consciously channel magic, effectively circumventing the tournament's rules.

"Zut! A little stiff, aren't we?" came Le Blanc's mocking voice, aiming to beset Diedrick's consciousness. He smiled broadly, his unmoving eyes locked onto Diedrick's face, gauging for reactions. Alain's features distorted into those of disappointment when it became clear that Diedrick didn't dignify flimsy ridicules.

Diedrick struggled to keep up even as Alain forced him on the defensive. There was only so much he could do without getting exposed for cheating. He parried, blocked, and evaded a blow after blow, but they eventually began to slip past his guard once Alain noticed a pattern in Diedrick's movement. Alain struck him square in the face, leaving Diedrick with a bloody nose.

Had it not been for Diedrick's last-second shift in weight, the blow would've cracked his fascial bones, ultimately disrupting his breathing. Diedrick was lucky to get off with just a burst capillary.

Alain watched as Diedrick's crimson liquid dripped onto the wooden planks, haughtily chuckling in response. "Oops, didn't mean to scar your pretty face."

"Bold words for a beginner. There's still milk around your traphole, Alain." Diedrick's taunt angered the knight, prompting him to lunge forward with full force. Diedrick knew that it would happen and acted accordingly, sliding Alain's powerful but telegraphed cross sideways before unleashing an attack of his own. It landed, much to everyone's surprise.

Alain raised his defending shoulder just in time to take the blow. He tried dispersing it but came away shocked when Diedrick's bony knuckle indented his muscle, sending him back by a fair few steps. The vermilion-haired duelist slid across the floor's rugged surface, his thick-soled footwear driving him to an untimely halt. For once, Alain was thankful for being subjected to what would, under ordinary circumstances, be unwanted friction.

"I am surprised that you are yet to insult my manhood, Alain." Diedrick's breathing hadn't gone up. The pattern remained consistent despite the shift in pace. Diedrick made no attempts to hide his amusement. In turn, Alain appeared metaphorically slapped by the cheerfulness. It pricked his ego.

"Thankfully, I have no lover you can rape or a sister to murder. You aren't getting inside my head, but I wholeheartedly invite the futility of your attempts." A wry fleer pulled at the corners of Diedrick's lips, showing the whole damn world, Alain included, that he was having one hell of a time.

"How..." mumbled Alain, regaining his stance. He knew damn well that Diedrick couldn't use the full scope of his abilities under the current rules. So why was his punch so powerful?

Alain banished the thought, adopting a new strategy in which he attempted to encircle Diedrick and land a jab from a blind angle. Diedrick accommodated accordingly, using his back foot as a pivoting point while his lead foot spun around, allowing him to face Alain at all times. Whenever Alain reached Diedrick's side, Diedrick merely circled so that he wasn't exposed.

Then, out of the blue, Alain's posture changed. He placed himself in an Antero-posterior stance. His lead hand shot forward, nearly extended to its limits, pointing at Diedrick's chest. Alain's feet slid apart, rising to their balls as he bounced like a slick panther, popping in and out of range. And from that position, he began incorporating kicks into his striking arsenal.

He started low, targeting Diedrick's calves. Thanks to the speed disparity, Diedrick failed to check Alain's foot that bit into his muscle like a meat cleaver. It was a temporary distraction to drop the man's guard, allowing Alain's following strike to capitalize on the vulnerable inside of Diedrick's forearm, consequentially damaging the median nerve.

Diedrick felt the dull pain shooting through his limb, leaving it temporarily paralyzed as Alain landed hit after hit on his torso. Alain was nearly impossible to counter. His disproportionately long arms and snake-like precision proved impeccable. Each time Diedrick launched a blow of his own, Alain would slide back at commendable speeds before landing a counterblow.

In a stroke of genius, an idea befell his mind. Diedrick stopped blocking or at least ceased to do so convincingly. Instead, he selectively hardened the area of his body targetted by Alain, slightly shifting them before the impact and subtly breaking down Alain's striking form. Each consecutive blow harmed Alain as much as it damaged Diedrick. The bout soon turned into a matter of endurance, and many would've, rightfully so, favored Diedrick on account of his broader frame.

But things weren't so black and white. At times Alain targetted the vital areas such as the liver, the spleen, and even the chin. Places that required an extra layer of protection since they were decidedly sensitive, atop of lacking any significant muscular protection.

Alain registered the damage that his hands, forearms, and shins were taking. His body could only incur so much before falling apart. Some of the bones cracked, even if only superficially. And while Alain would continue fighting with such injuries, they'd prove disadvantageous in the long run.

Alain's attention temporarily shifted from Diedrick to himself. A split-second mistake for sure, but enough to leave an opening.


A thundering throb suddenly ravished Alain's shoulder, threatening to unfurl across his entire limb. Glancing at it, he caught brief glimpses of Diedrick's hardened fingers sticking knuckle-deep in his soft tissue, soaked in blood, his blood.

Even as Alain brought his best self to the fore to meet Diedrick's eyes and be fully there in that moment, his nostrils filled with the smell of blood, and there was a lurching of his stomach. Someone else might've relented to the pain, but not Alain. He was indeed a monster, contracting the muscles of his front shoulder head to trap Diedrick's hand, keeping him in place just long enough for retaliation.

 

[Mute]

"Asenta. Samara Asenta. Mercenary and Acquirer of Rare Antiquities, Also an associate of Urchin's,"

Mute couldn't help but smirk at the fact that this little group were making introductions to each other based around their association with Urchin. That boy really did seem to know everyone. Half of which he'd somehow managed to befriend and seemingly had an irrational urge to protect him, the other half wanting him dead for some reason or other. Luckily it seemed that everyone here tonight was on the former end of the spectrum.

"My silent friend, Mute, is here for similar, but different reasons. Plenty of Opportunity for wealth to be had in such a luxuriously wealthy city. A little stability in financial flow would do nicely."

He nodded in agreement at that assessment. It summed up his situation rather nicely. Alliria, The Shallows in particular, was a place where everyone could find some way to make a living. Even an uneducated slave without so much as the ability to speak. It might not be the most honest work, but he was making a living selling his fighting skills and rarely even needing to use them against anything more than rowdy drunks and idiots who tried to skip out on their debts. Hence why he seriously needed to re-tune his fists, as his fight with Samara had clearly shown.

"As you saw, he's a capable fighter, but also quite the strategist."

Now this statement brought a rare smile to his usually stoic face. It wasn't often that someone recognized his strategic abilities. It seemed that there little escapade with the drug heist had left an impression on Samara, which was always nice to know. A sharp mind was wasted on a man who barely had the ability to communicate with others, so the fact that she'd taken notice was much appreciated.

"Once we are all bored of those little brawls that Urchin has arranged, you two are most welcome at the Raven Club. It's not far from here, and surely more comfortable than that old building."

Mute easily nodded in agreement to Isak's kind offer. While he was more than used to this kind of scene, the loud roaring of the crowd was starting to give him a headache, and he'd be more than happy to go somewhere quieter once the event was over. Particularly if there was wine involved, and particularly if Samara would be accompanying them. She was one of the few people he'd met in several years who actually made an effort to communicate them, and he hoped to get to know her better if he got the chance.

"It is nice to meet you as well, Mute! Thank you so much for looking after Urchin. You must know Charity, then! The two of you are saints for keeping him out of trouble. He's such a good kid. He's been really helpful to me."

Mute extended a hand towards Eilerias to shake hands with her in greeting, letting her know that the feeling was mutual. When asked if he knew Charity though, he shook his head. He hadn't yet had the pleasure of meeting her, though he felt like he knew the girl already considering Urchin wouldn't shut up about her. The boy seemed absolutely besotted, though of course he'd turned bright red and vehemently denied it when Honey had suggested that the lad might be experiencing his first ever crush... Still, it was nice to hear that the boy had been behaving himself for once. For a long time, Mute had assumed that the boy would eventually meet his end either in a cell or hanging from the gallows, so the fact that he had other friends in his corner was extremely reassuring.

"I cannot partake in the wine drinking, but I can help set up some games to entertain you with. Oh! And if you stay overnight, Ogden makes the best sausage and eggs, I swear!"

Well, this certainly sounded promising. Yes, a free night in a cosy inn with free food, drink, entertainment and good company was not something he was going to pass up on. Despite his disappointing loss in the first round of the fights, this was shaping up to be a great night... Until, of course, he heard Urchin screaming the place down, calling for Eilerias. What the hell had he done now?

Following the priestess back into warehouse though, he soon found that it wasn't Urchin that was the issue, but a young lady who had seemingly collapsed in the middle of the room, right next to the ring. Unfortunately the crowd was too distracted by the fight to pay much attention, and were practically trampling the poor girl to get a better view. Pushing his way through the crowd, Mute leaned forward to scoop the young lady up in his arms. He had no idea what was wrong with her, but he knew that they needed to get her somewhere quiet, away from all these people so hat they could help her. Mute turned to Eilerias, hoping for instruction. Unfortunately, he didn't know the layout of this building and had no idea where to take the girl.

 

[Honey]

Well, a lot was certainly going on tonight. First of all they'd caught a cheater and had to tie him up in the back, then Eilerias had run outside, clearly distraught over something, and several people had chased after her to make sure that she was alright, and now another woman had suddenly collapsed in the middle of the warehouse, right next to the ring. What in the world was going on? Had one of the fighters somehow fallen on the woman when she'd gotten too close to the stage? She really had no idea.

All the while, Honey carried on serving drinks to increasingly drunk patrons, and all the while her curiosity was getting the better of her. Once things at the bar had started to die down and there was no one waiting to be served, Honey finally took the opportunity to sneak into the back room and see what had become of Abdel Khalid.

What she saw was far worse than she had expected. The man's face was an utter wreck. His nose was bleeding and one of his eyes was so swollen that he could barely open it. To think that this had happened under her nose broke the girl's heart. Not only that but she had actually assisted in it by helping Urchin get the man into the room. Did the boy know what had happened in here? Did he know what Isak had done to him? What shocked her even more was that the priestess had witnessed the whole ordeal and not spoken up against it. Did her church not have an issue with violence and torture? How could she just stand by and watch? But then, Honey had no right to judge. She had walked out of the room and left the poor man to his fate rather than stay and make sure that things didn't get out of hand.

Suddenly she heard the man grown loudly as he finally woke up. "Shh," Honey whispered as she closed the door behind her and moved closer to Khalid. Right now, everyone was busy with other matters, so Honey decided to take this opportunity to ease her guilty conscious. "Don't make a sound. I'm going to get you out of here." Moving over to the chair, Honey tried her best to untie the ropes that bound the man to his chair, but Urchin's knots were surprisingly strong. "Damn it," she whispered under her breath, eyes scanning the room for an alternative before falling on a piece of glass from a broken, boarded up window. Carefully picking up the glass in her hands, she started cutting at the ropes with the sharp side, careful not to cut herself in the process.

"You sure the coast's clear?" Khalid asked Honey as she set about freeing him. "If they catch you trying to free me, they'll most likely kill us both for your trouble. You shouldn't be involved with people like this, girl. It'll end badly for you, you mark my words."

"I'm not," Honey insisted as she continued the difficult task of using glass to cut the ropes without hurting herself in the process. "I barely know them. Only just met them tonight."

"Well, you keep it that way," Khalid told the girl firmly, like a father instructing a rebellious daughter to stay away from a trouble making boyfriend. "Stay away from them, especially the man with the demon eyes. Before you came, he damn near burned me alive with a ball of fire he called up from hell. If you don't get me out of here, I know for a fact he'll be back to finish me off."

"I'll get you out," Honey insisted, cutting the ropes as fast as she could. She didn't want to believe what Khalid was saying about these people. After all, he was hardly innocent himself. Still, she barely knew any of them. She had no idea who they are or what they were capable of. The fact that little Urchin was involved with them was worrying to say the least.

As the seconds passed by, Honey grew more and more afraid of being caught, and put consistently more pressure on the glass, eventually leaving her with a small cut on her palm. But just as she cut herself, she also managed to cut through the ropes, setting Khalid free in the process.

"You're hurt," Khalid noticed, reaching for Honey's hand when he saw the bleeding, but she shrugged it off with a shake of her head.

"It's nothing," she assured him, snatching her hand back to nurse her cut with the other palm. "You need to get out of here before someone comes back. Not back through the warehouse, someone will see you. Do you think maybe you could squeeze through that hole in the boarded up window?" she asked hopefully.

"Well, I'm dead if I can't," Khalid muttered before taking a run up towards the window and climbing his way up towards the gap. There was wood, nails and broken glass in his way, but after some nasty scratches, he managed to squeeze his way through. "You coming, girl?" he asked Honey, looking at her through the small gap in the window.

"I can't," she whispered back to him. "If I run off now they'll know it was me who let you go. If I stay, I can make it look like you escaped on your own."

"You mind what I say," Khalid whispered back. "Stay away from them. Nice girl like you shouldn't be involved with scum like this."

"I'll be fine," Honey assured him, taking a quick look around the room to make sure that no one was watching or listening. "I've been involved with some nasty folks before. Worse than this lot. I know how to deal with them. I can take care of myself."

"They'll be the end of you," Khalid warned her again, but he wasn't going to stay around and risk getting caught trying to convince her. The cheater disappeared into the night and Honey returned to the bar, nursing her cut in a bowl of cold water and hoping that nobody noticed.

 

[Samara Asenta]

If there was a good way to tell if someone was a well-mannered crime lord, it was boasting about bribing the local guards. One whom Urchin had apparently been in contact with for some time. Not exactly what Samara had expected to hear. Then again, the youth had far more time in the city and not much else to do; a few criminal connections passed the time and probably earned some money in the process. Meanwhile, this Dark Elf was roaming the wilds killing creatures whose names people wouldn't believe if they heard them.

They said crime didn't pay. Samara wondered if it paid more than being a monster hunter. With how the world worked, probably.

"The more challenging or sinister the better," Samara replied to Isak when he asked what she sought. "I'm no adrenaline addict; lets say I have a unique set of skills that allow me to go where most fear." Being a [polite] monster herself did have some perks. For one, you could often get into the monster-and-cultists only clubs. They were extremely selective in their membership. "And an eye for alchemical ingredients and writings." Certainly had been one way to earn currency on the road. Anyone could find a local flower, but the right ingredients from afar could be worth a fistful of coins.

Eilerias' extended hand was put out there, and Samara reached out to take it. In response to the woman's statement that she herself couldn't engage in such pursuits, Samara replied, "If you're searching for something, I can keep an eye out for it." There could always be some artifact of power that could use a good home. Provided that home wasn't Isek's personal vault. They'd only just met. Bit early to entrust such things to a relative stranger.

Isek's invitation to the Raven Club was a pleasant surprise. Making new friends would be a welcome change to her lifestyle. She'd lost all the old ones when she fled home. There'd been a face here or there on the road, but she never settled along enough to be more than passing acquaintances. Should she risk developing such ties here?

You should.

Unwelcome encouragement given Her minions could find her more easily if Samara stayed in one spot long enough.

Are you sure I sent any?

Yes. They likely wouldn't show their faces in daylight in a city this large, but Samara was certain some Deep Horrors were creeping across the lands in search for their wayward vessel.

"Sounds delightful," Samara replied in the wake of Eilerias' enthusiasm, and followed it up with a smile. "If you need any help with the renovations, I'd be happy to lend a hand." Such work often occurred during the day, which would help keep Samara out of the sun. Not to mention a means of compensating their kindness even if this might only be an excuse to get them alone to discuss 'business.' "I've never built anything before, but I'm strong and can follow instructions."

As talk of an evening full of frivolity continued, a sudden shout drew everyone's attention. The Healer among them had been summoned indoors to deal with a matter. Urchin himself had rung the bell. It didn't sound like murder -- thankfully -- but something had happened.

Mute followed quickly enough. Samara lingered to allow Isek to make haste after his fiance, if he too went to investigate. If he lingered, however, the Dark Elf would as well. Eilerias, Mute, and Urchin could likely handle matters; on the other hand, Samara wasn't going to be the only one standing outside like a dullard.

 

[Isak Lavelle]

Isak could see that Samara truly had the look of someone who tackled any obstacles on her path to glory, and those were exactly the kind of people that Isak enjoyed having around, especially for business. If she spoke out of truth, and not some sentiment to impress, then Isak would surely rejoice in striking a partnership with her, and also with her partner, Mute.

He also had the look of a man who spared no effort to get what he was owed, and his silence was actually a trait much endeared by Isak, who had always been a man of few words, speaking only to gauge his interest on what called his attention. The only person who could get him to open up and talk more freely was Eilerias, and he felt comfortable with that, knowing it made her happy to see him being less strict about himself.

Isak watched as Samara and Eilerias shook hands, a short smile on his face as he heard Samara describing her lack of fear in regards to facing any kind of challenge presented to her. "Ogden, one of my other associates, will surely take a liking to you, Samara. He always loved to be around people with little to no regards to their lives, he says it calls to his dwarven warrior side." He chuckled, recalling all the foolish fights that Ogden loved to take part in, just for the sake of adrenaline and glory.

Isak was always searching for something - riches, opportunity, leverage... Anything that would bolster his fortunes, his influence and his power in a city like Alliria, where the balance of power was always shifting between the most powerful men there, the rich merchants and their allied nobles. He didn't want to sit on a puffed throne, to have mountains of coin at his feet, but he would still have them all at his feet, all those arrogant people with no regards to the people that they left out to suffer in the mudded streets while their pockets lined up with money.

"I'm sure we can put your skills to the test soon enough, Samara. Me and my associates are always keeping an eye out for any relics of importance, and I believe you and your partner will be of great help to us." He explained, his free hand slowly waving about as Isak looked towards Mute, seeking to bring the man onboard his ship of ideas as well. Samara looked receptive enough that she even seemed eager to work on the Raven Club, helping however she could once Eilerias brought up their efforts in expanding the club to a inn, to better acommodate their many new guests in recent weeks.

"My beautiful fiancée has a much better eye for decorations than me, I'm sure you two will get along just fine as well." He spoke after Eilerias, looking at her passionately and with his usual charming smile that he reserved only for her, squeezing her hand slightly.

Their small heartwarming moment was cut short as they heard screams coming from the old building, soon followed by one of Eilerias' acolytes desperately running towards them, telling them that Urchin was in dire need of their help. Eilerias quickly ran inside with her student, but Isak didn't stay put behind, and followed after them, eventually stumbling upon Urchin caring for a wounded woman who was laying on the floor, blood coming from her mouth.

She didn't seem like a fighter, at least not like the rest of the brutes that were fighting tonight, but Isak still felt suspicious about any attacks coming from the inside of that building, although most people were rather focused on the ongoing brawls.

Mute had been quick enough to hold her on his arms, while Isak looked around for Perrault, as the man eventually found their way to them after hearing Urchin's screams. Isak took a step towards him, his menacing gaze letting him know about the gravity of that situation. If that woman had been attacked before taking part in one of the fights, Isak would have to see retribution on the guilty party. "Scatter the mercenaries, keep their eyes open for any suspicious activity. There have been enough strange events this evening." Isak ordered, and Perrault soon left to fulfill his duties, as Isak turned back to face Mute and the rest of the group.

"Take her to one of the side rooms, it will be quieter there." He spoke, already motioning them to follow him towards one of the more secluded rooms exiting the lobby. It was a small room with nothing of interest save for a small wooden bench and a few empty buckets to be filled with water for any emergencies. It looked more like a storage than a room to be used by any of the patrons. Isak signaled Mute to lay the woman on the bench so that Eilerias and her acolyte could better tend to her. Still, Isak couldn't help but walk to his priestess' side, worried that she would try to heal that woman all by herself.

He knew she would be selfless enough to put herself in harm's way to prevent someone's death.

"Please, let your acolyte tend to her. Khet's potions may not be enough to keep you from harm, my love." His voice was low and soft, but enough that Eilerias could hear Isak as he almost begged her, putting his hand on her shoulder.

So much for a good night of entertainment, away from the usual chores of running a criminal business.

"She will be alright, Urchin." He spoke, trying to comfort the poor kid that still looked very much in shock, his eyes trembling ever since Isak and the others came upon him at the lobby, trying to tend to that woman. She seemed important to Urchin, which made Isak even more frustrated about what had happened.

 

[Eilerias]

Eilerias would have to remind herself to accept the help from Samara after they took care of the girl who was incapacitated. Isak wasn't the most... welcoming... to strangers, so Eilerias was extremely happy that he was socializing and seemed to be open to having visitors.

She checked the girl for any signs of open wounds, but found none. She did, however, notice a strange mix of blood and a strange powder before Mute had picked her up and seemed to be waiting for instructions. Isak, immediately appearing on edge, was already ordering mercenaries to be on guard and for Mute to bring her to one of the quiet rooms while Eilerias stayed low to the ground, sticking her finger into the thickened blood as it mixed with the powder.

"How strange." She commented to herself, holding her finger up upon noticing the powder had made the girl's blood glisten like crystals. If only Gwen were here to help. She knows everything about weird powders and strange ailments.

Before following the group, Eilerias ran off to the bar to grab a rag and water to clean up the mess. "Honey? Charity?" She looked around, noticing both were absent from the location. Not to worry, there's enough going on here, they're probably busy with something else. She grabbed a pitcher of water and one of the rags before making her way back over to the small pool of blood and cleaning it before walking to the room Isak and the others went to.

Her demeanor remained unnaturally calm as she entered the stuffy room, looking it over to ensure it wasn't too dangerous to be working in the dirty environment. She pushed past the group, feeling claustrophobic as she realized how tiny this room was. "If any of you are good with strange powders, you may stay." Her voice was firm. "The rest, please leave and enjoy the fights. This room is a hazard for all of us to be in and quite frankly, I do not wish to be hovered around while I work. "

She turned to Urchin and Isak, "If you would be so kind as to get some supplies from Honey for me, I would appreciate it." She listed off some ingredients that could be found behind the bar, most likely including water, vodka, clean rags, water, sharp knives, and tasked one of them with finding her a sewing needle with thread. It was no expert surgery, but she had been getting books from Gwen's archives for the past few months to learn more about the body and different types of treatments that did not involve magic. Best case scenario? It worked! Worst case? She'd just have to use her magic and pray she was okay after. She wasn't going to let her acolytes take the meaning of her life away from her. "Get out! Go!" She waved her hands at them as she knelt down and examined the girl.

"Can you hear me?" She asked, silently hoping the girl would be okay and she wouldn't have to do some experiment on her.

 

[Charity Briarthorne]

Charity had a pout on her lips as Honey tried to play peacekeeper between her and Cantor. Perhaps they had gotten off on the wrong foot. "Sorry..." she mumbled begrudgingly.

Soon a surprise fight was announced between some man named Khalid and... Isak?! Khalid wouldn't stand a chance. Charity cheered and whistled loudly as the two stepped into the ring. "Yeah! Turn him to paste Lavelle!" she yelled excitedly cupping her hands around her mouth. She watches in anticipation as Isak toyed with the other man before quickly ending the match. He was the strongest member of the Cherry Rose there, so it wasn't much of a surprise that the fight was already over.

"So, that's Isak?" Honey asked, leaning in to speak to Charity in a gossipy sort of whisper. "Damn, that must be the most beautiful man I've ever seen! Just look at those cheek bones! And that hair, wow! And you work with the guy? That must be so distracting. I've got to say, that man with that woman," she said, pointing to Isak and Eilerias in turn. "Those two are a recipe for the most beautiful child this world has ever seen. Going to be a little heart-breaker when it grows

Isak? A beautiful man? Charity hadn't ever taken the time to see Isak as a man. But she supposed that he was pretty handsome for somebody who was constantly on her nerves. Now Eilerias on the other hand, was nothing short of adorable. Any man would be lucky to spend time with her. Their child was certainly going to be beautiful.

"I guess Isak's kinda handsome..." Charity said thoughtfully. "Though I'm usually too busy yelling at him about something to take notice." A sly grin spread across her face. "Handsome or not, I'd much rather spend my time with a pretty young thing such as yourself!" Charity laughed, gently booping Honey on the nose.

Her flirtations were cut short as Urchin appeared, lugging an unconscious Khalid behind him. Charity rolled her eyes at the boys lack of strength and picked up the man's legs, following Urchin into a side room. It seemed like Isak wanted to have a talk with the cheater, so she helped Urchin tie Khalid to a chair. After a few moments of interrogation, Charity grew bored of the questioning and went ringside to watch the fights.

As the fights continued, Charity could see Urchin talking to a young woman near the ring. She contemplated going over to watch the fights with them, but decided against it. Instead she made her way back to the bar to get another drink. "Hey babe!" Charity said playfully to Honey with a large grin on her face. "Mind getting me another drink?" She noticed Honey's hand was resting in a bowl and grew concerned. "Woah... Are you alright? What happened to your hand?"