Open Chronicles Underground Fighting Ring

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Cantor rolled his eyes at Charity Briarthorne's response. "My offer was of course to play the jock and up the crowd's ante, but far be it from to try and put some extra coin in your pocket when you prefer the chip on your shoulder." Cantor took his drink, noticed it was a double, and decided to sip rather than down the shot. His ears were quickly greeted by the barmaid's cheers for one 'Mute' in the ring. Glancing over he noticed two individual fights. The first was between Mute and a fairly built woman, while the other was between the previous winner Khalid and a newcomer.

While Cantor was not a 'holy man' in the traditional sense, working for Aerin over the years had given him enough know-how to realize that Khalid's opponent was far more than he seemed. He played with Khalid until the man's secret was out then in the span of a couple seconds broke the man's arm threw him on the ground, and knocked him out in a single punch.

More intriguing, after that he looked over at Cantor. Or, more precisely, the area around Cantor. He wasn't completely sure if the man was looking at Honey, Charity or Eilerias, but figured it was one of the three women. Which meant he was responsible for the warehouse operation and Honey's employment, that he worked with Charity, or was the father of the pregnant priestesses child. Or perhaps all three.

Cantor pondered for a moment what to do with that information. Fundamentally Cantor was dedicated to trade, and Cantor had useful information that could be sold to the vampire. However, he didn't know which, or how many, of the women around him were connected to Isak. He'd gotten off on the wrong foot, generously speaking, with at least one of them. He decided to let it rest for the moment.

"You said you're not a gambling woman, but you've seemed to pick a favorite."
Cantor said to Honey, making conversation as he took another sip of his whiskey.
 
Eilerias sighed, "Fine, but please be careful. You never know who's watching these things." She let out an annoyed laugh. "You guys need to stop acting like I'm a delicate flower. I'm not going to die if I heal you." She rolled her eyes. "Isak won't even let me teach my own lessons anymore. I feel fine, its just a baby. The only thing I was worried about was feeling everyone's pain coming here, but Isak's...associate...made some horrid potion that tasted like spoilt milk to help. Seems to be stopping me from feeling other's pain for once, so that's a positive!"

She looked down, embarrassed by Urchin's praising as Honey spoke. "Yeah, I think that was one of the first things the kid ever said to me." She laughed. "Please come visit any time, we would love to have you there. Forget if Isak or the dwarf tell you to pay for anything, its on me."

She looked over at Charity as she spoke to Cantor, staring in confusion as she spoke about fighting the guy. By her horrified expression, it was clear Charity's sarcasm went right over Eilerias head. She looked the man up and down, trying to figure out his motive but found nothing. "Charity I don't think this is a good idea." She leaned in, whispering quietly. "But if you're serious, I will be right here to fix you...or him." She looked back over, giving him as mean of a look as a baby-faced priestess could pull off.

Eilerias heard a disturbance in the crowd, pulling her attention away from Charity, Honey, and Cantor. She felt a familiar warmth on her finger as the engagement ring began to glow subtly alerting her to the danger Isak was facing. "Pardon me, Isak is being a complete idiot." She said coldly as she stomped off, heading towards the private rooms, the ring glowing brighter as she got closer. She pushed her way past the guards who were blocking the entrance off to people who weren't fighting and into one of the side rooms. She stood in the doorway for a minute, trying but failing to calm herself.

"What the hell did you think you were doing going in a fight against someone like that?" She watched as he turned to face her, showing his bruised body and bleeding abdomen. She huffed angrily as she made her way over to him and put her hands over the wounds, allowing them to glow softly as she began healing him, ignoring his orders for her to stop. "My acolytes are busy." She snapped.
 
Samara arched a brow at the muscular man's retort even as he refused to look back at her from his spot before the ring. Her head slowly listed to one side as he continued. Supernatural. Vampire. Superhuman (the speciesm!). Just a delightful collection of terms and phrases to draw attention to certain matters. Not exactly the sort of thing you discussed in 'good company' and yet there he was laying it all out as if it were the most natural and commonly known thing in the realms. A lesser creature might have even lashed out to silent him as though it would take back what he said. She, however, stood there with narrowed eyes at the free-tongued devil of a man as he rambled.

"I don't make the rules, here, Diedrick. If you want permission to openly use your gifts, seek it elsewhere." Though it would be wiser if they had an open brawl elsewhere. A place of vast, open land or one with many glyphs to contain the damage. Not somewhere like a bar on the docks full of people. Then again, if the owner didn't care about collateral damage why should they? Diedrick would have to get such buy-in though; he wanted to take the gloves off, after all.

Her blue eyes swung up to find Perrault announcing the match between herself and Mute then. Was it a welcome distraction? It was an interruption at the least. Diedrick and her would need to finish this 'conversation' another time. Perhaps after he'd shouted 'Vampire' in a crowd? Always a fun time amidst a panic. Unless these people actually didn't care unless they were ripping throats open -- Samara might find out just how welcome her kind was. Provided no one learned about the other matter. The one thing the man of muscles hadn't just thrown out there for anyone to hear. Perhaps something he didn't yet know? Or was it a card he didn't want to carelessly waste for a good laugh?

Had to admit, Samara hadn't seen the 'slave' title coming in reference to Mute. Not that the man seemed to take it as a matter of pride. So, not a colorful take then like being the Slave of Silence.

When it came her time, Samara strutted out into the ring with a smile on her dark lips. She lifted one hand in the air to give her 'adoring fans' a warm welcome. After all, she was the lovely and gorgeous woman that'd come here to ensnare the senses of men (and some women). A delectable piece of eye candy for their amusement. If it was physical appearance they would judge her on, then it would be that upon which they would wager -- so much the better. Fools and their coin were soon parted.

The Elven woman took her place opposite of Mute. One corner of her lips pulled up with a slight lift and roll of her head. Idiocy -- what could you do, right? Mute seemed to understand from his countenance. Far too profession and astute an observer to be taken in by a crowd's excitement. As evidence by his hand, which Samara took. Yes, too honorable to fall for the pettiness on display around them.

But they weren't here for the crowd. They were here to win. Opinions didn't matter, only results.

Samara took her place just before the match began. A few stretches for the crowd. Never hurt to make sure your muscles were loose and limber.

Good thing no one in the crowd could get close enough to touch her, however. Her tolerance for putting on a show and riling the crowd only went so far. Then again, if she did injure a handsy member of the audience the rest would likely only have cheered it on.

Perrault dropped his hand then, and Mute shot forth much like a crossbow bolt.

When one's body had been corrupted by an ancient evil with a purpose they weren't given supernatural powers that were toggled like one conjured a fireball. Some such things simply were part of who -- or what -- you were. Samara had learned to control them, however. No one liked a show-off, and punching holes in someone's chest was only amusing when it was naught but a story or you were immortal; otherwise fear usually trumped excitement. In Mute's case, she really didn't want to cause permanent and lasting harm.

As the man rushed forth, Samara shifted her weight and pressed off with one foot. Her knees bent as she sought to duck under his arms while side-stepping the charge. Nothing fancy, just a fluid movement finished by a pivot behind the man. A very solid push could have sent him out of the ring, but the crowd didn't need another quick show and Samara had no reason to demoralize someone she could respect.

Instead, she waited for what was sure to be a speedy recovery. Samara brought up her hands with another smirk. "Can't let the fight end that quickly, Mute. Think of how much more coin they'll exchange." With a wink she stepped forward to deliver a light-weight strike at his head.

As would become the norm for the evening, Samara would play the studious and nimble fighter. The one that tested the opponent's defenses and tried their endurance. Identify and exhaust to the point any knock-out blow wouldn't be an easy call-out like the first match. At least her opponents would get the opponent to show their quality. A flurry of blows exchanged, footwork, the ripples in one's muscles as they pressed their attack... Yes, Samara was quite happy this was a simple brawl with practically no rules. Their exchange wouldn't be entirely one-sided either. Samara wouldn't walk out of every fight untouched. Uninjured almost certainly, but blinding speed and chest-shattering blows weren't the theme of the evening.
 
Well, his attempt to end the fight quickly was a total failure, but he had expected as much. Samara was much too skilled to let herself be taken off guard so easily. Slowing himself to a stop, Mute turned to face his opponent once more, keeping his fists up, chin tucked down. She was a fast one. He'd have to be very careful and keep his eyes on her at all times. If he looked away even for a second, she'd no doubt take advantage of that gap to strike.

"Can't let the fight end that quickly, Mute. Think of how much more coin they'll exchange."

Mute smiled and nodded his head in agreement. Give the people a show. He could get behind that. More importantly, it seemed that she was in no hurry to finish this fight. It made sense. She was confident that she would win. Perhaps she was even going easy on him. He could use that, possibly. If Samara was more focused on giving the crowd a good performance then he might be able to find a gap in her defenses, if he watched closely enough.

One thing that quickly became clear was that Samara was a much faster fighter than him. This could be a problem. A fast opponent could often be more trouble than a strong opponent as they were far harder to actually hit. Not only that, but her punches were considerably stronger than he had anticipated from her size and stature. Mostly, Mute focused on blocking and dodging Samara's attacks, lifting his arms up to his face to shield the blows and ducking beneath her punches when he could and pivoting so that he never remained in one place long enough for Samara to catch him in a headlock. He managed to get in a few solid punches and a couple of kicks, but it was very clear that his opponent had the upper hand in this fight. If he was going to win, it'd have to be by stealth.

After watching Samara closely for awhile, blocking as many of her blows as he could, Mute waited for a heavy blow to come before moving in close in an attempt to grapple the woman to the floor. If he could pin her down and pummel her with repetitive punches while she was on the ground, he might be able to disorientate her enough to gain the upper hand. Then, once Samara was dazed and confused, his goal was to take advantage of her only weakness... He weight. Fast and strong she might be, but heavy? Not so much. From what Mute had seen, he had little chance of besting Samara physically, and he doubted that she would surrender easily, so his best shot at winning was physically throwing her out of the ring... If he could get a solid grip on the woman without her escaping.
 
Samara smirked as they traded blows. Mute may be silent, but he knew how to fight and survive. A grunt followed a solid blow that landed throughout the exchange. Fists and feet wouldn't kill her, but that didn't mean she'd lost the ability to feel. Maybe in a century or two it'd feel like a mild irritant, not today. Made the fight all the more fun not being a mere observer, but a genuine participant.

The Elven woman kept her feet flowing over the surface of the ring with her shoulders and hands rising and falling to keep Mute from easily discerning what her next act would be. Naturally Samara felt confident in her own abilities, but Mute had proven capable enough that even as the match drew on she didn't recklessly charge in within striking distance.

Alternating between light punches to probe and heavy punches to wound, Samara studied her opponent in the same manner he did her. It was only polite. With her next blow toward his body the man made a surprising effort to grapple her as the distance between them collapsed.

Thrown to the floor, Mute had the weight and height advantage over her making use of them to pin her in place. Before he got to pummeling away and despite a failed successful bridging, Samara set to work escaping. Her left foot trapped Mute's, scooped it over her right leg, and got her right leg under his left knee. In short order she worked to rock the man to throw off his leverage and swing out from Mute's mounted position.

Not about to let him get away, Samara then wrapped an arm about his waist to pull him back toward her body. One arm hooked under his neck between his head and shoulder, with the other arm under the armpit. As she rolled back, grappled against his back, Samara then sought to hook her leg around to capture one of Mute's own legs. Throwing him out of the ring wasn't an obvious tactic for her to use, so she'd try to pin him down until he surrendered.
 
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Urchin let out an excited cheer when the fight between Mute and Samara was announced. "Woo!" he cried. "Go..." Wait, who was he cheering for? "... You!" Well, he liked both of them, so he'd be happy whichever of the two won the fight. Either way, he'd make a lovely profit from the betting. While the audience might cheer louder for Samara, it was Mute that most people were betting on. Seemed that the average punter seemed to think that these fights were a man's game, and couldn't picture a woman coming up on top... Well, Urchin wasn't complaining. More money for him!

"If what you are saying is correct, then I'll avoid Fist. I wouldn't feel good knowing that my actions affected your source of income. After all, it's you and Mute who are the breadwinners here."

"Oh, no, that ain't what I meant," Urchin reassured Diedrick. "I just dun wanna kill the geese what lay the golden eggs, if ya know what I mean. Fist's the favorite fer now, but once the punters get a look at you. Well, that might change pretty quick. If ya dun mind knockin' out a few small fries in the first few rounds, ya can take out Fist out in the last fight." Assuming of course that both of them made it that far.

"Uh... No offense," he mumbled to Mortimer. "I mean, I'm sure yer a good fighter an' all but... Well, 'ave ya seen Fist? Guy's fuckin' massive! But I'm sure you'll stand a good chance," the boy lied. He doubted that Mortimer had a hope in hell of winning the fight against Fist. Still, he didn't want the guy to get cold feet and drop out. There was money to be made!

"Why don't you let me fight the supposed cheater?" Diedrick's proposition was entirely out of the left field, but he felt assured that Urchin would see reason within it. "Having your boss interfere would be way too suspicious, especially since he's a criminal of some kind."

"Uh?" Urchin replied nervously. "What ya on about? Mr Isak, a criminal? Ain't got no idea what yer on about. The Boss man is completely legit!" Urchin insisted... Which was obviously not quite true, considering he had funded this extremely illegal fighting ring. "Besides, I wouldn't suggest it. Once Mr Isak sets 'is mind on summin'... Well, you'd be 'ard pressed ta change 'is mind. He's one of them guys what dun trust nobody ta get the job done but 'imself... Still, if the Boss ain't no match fer that cheatin' bastard, I'll be sure ta let ya finish the job, 'ow's that?"

He'd give the boy a big grin. "Sure, go big or go home, am I right?"

"That's the spirit!" Urchin said enthusiastically. Mortimer was always a good sport. "Now, 'cos of the limp in 'is leg, the big guy can't move around so fat, so I'd say a whole lotta fancy footwork would be yer best bet. Also, he's a lot bigger than ya, so you should be able ta dodge some o' them punches by duckin' yer 'ead down low. Maybe ya can trip 'im outta the ring or summin'? I dunno, but there's a hell of a lot o' folks bettin' on this guy, so if ya can take 'im out in 'is first fight, the 'ouse is gonna make a fortune!"

Following the fight between Mute and Samara*, a little surprise was announced. Isak and Khalid would be going head to head right away. "Yeah!" Urchin cheered, jumping up and down to see over the considerably taller patrons that blocked his view. "Ya kick 'is ass, Boss!" After the first fight, a lot of people had bet on Khalid, so there was a lot of money riding on this fight.

Moving about to and fro, Urchin tried to get a better glimpse of the fight over the other patrons shoulders before giving up on the idea and simply climbing up on one of the tables. Looked like Isak had Khalid exactly where he wanted him. Some of the punters seemed to have caught onto Khalid's little trick and accusations of cheating started being thrown about. Well, he could get in on that, "Cheat, cheat, cheat, cheat!" Urchin started chanting, causing several more member of the crowd to join in. Looked like the whole warehouse was completely backing Isak now, and Lavelle took the opportunity to take Khalid down, to the complete uproar of the crowd. "Wooooo!" Urchin cheered enthusiastically. That certainly showed him. The lad's high spirits were quickly dashed though, when Perrault gave him the message.

"Tell Urchin that I have some questions for Mister Khalid. He'll know what to do."

"Oh..." Urchin mumbled awkwardly. Yeah, he knew what to do, alright. Get Khalid to a quiet, dark place where Isak could question him privately, without interruptions. The tricky bit was getting him there. Normally, Urchin would ask Mute for help, but he was still recovering from his fight with Samara... Well, if you wanted something done.

Urchin clambered into the ring where Khalid lay unconscious, still out cold from Isak's final blow. "Right..." The boy muttered to himself, thinking about how best to go about this before grabbing Khalid by the wrists and physically dragging him out of the ring. That part was awkward enough without pulling the unconscious man through a loud and rowdy crowd. "Sorry, sorry, s'cuse me, s'cuse me," he muttered a few times as he wove through the patrons, dragging Khalid towards the little door behind the bar. Luckily the warehouse had a small, almost completely broken down little room in the back that must've once served as an office of some kind. "Uh, Honey, could ya be a doll an' get the door, please?" he asked awkwardly. Luckily, nobody was asking any questions about Urchin dragging Khalid's unconscious body around. Presumably they thought he was just throwing him out.

*(Will react to the Mute vs Samara fight once it's done. Nice relaxed posting order here.) :)
 
Cantor rolled his eyes at Charity Briarthorne's response. "My offer was of course to play the jock and up the crowd's ante, but far be it from to try and put some extra coin in your pocket when you prefer the chip on your shoulder."

Honey put a hand gently on Cantor's shoulder in an attempt to ease the situation. "I think we might be getting off on the wrong foot here," she said with a smirk. "My friend Charity here is a good kid, and I'm sure she didn't mean anything by it," she assured Cantor, shooting Charity a warning glance and hoping the girl didn't contradict her. "Still, it's a little bit presumptuous of you to offer to throw the fight in her favor. What makes you assume the girl couldn't easily mop the floor with you?" Honey teased playfully. "The girl's a lot tougher than she looks." ... Well, she couldn't exactly back up that claim, she'd never actually seen Charity fight before. Honey was just playing the role of peacekeeper, as she usually did.

"That said," she continued, looking at Charity. "This nice gentleman here might have a few cards up his sleeve that you don't know about yet. Maybe it wouldn't hurt to consider his kind offer? Fights like this get thrown all the time. In fact, I'd say this is probably the first legitimate fight I've ever seen. I should really talk to the boy about that. Throwing the fights is definitely the way to go if you want to maximize profits."

"You said you're not a gambling woman, but you've seemed to pick a favorite." Cantor said to @Honey, making conversation as he took another sip of his whiskey.

"Oh, he's a good friend of mine," Honey explained. "Nice guy. Always respectful to the girls," which was a lot more than she could say for the majority of Zilvra's hired muscle. Those assholes just loved to push the limits of what they could get away with. Mute, on the other hand, did his job without so much as the occasional slap on the ass. Honey appreciated that.

Unfortunately, it looked like her friend was getting his ass handed to him. While he managed to get in a few good punches, Samara very clearly had the upper hand. "Damn," Honey whispered under her breath. "That woman's a bloody Valkyrie! Poor Mute's getting obliterated!" Well, Honey at least had certainly found a new favorite to win. That woman Samara seemed practically invincible. She'd certainly be watching her closely throughout the rest of the evening.

"Isak won't even let me teach my own lessons anymore. I feel fine, its just a baby. The only thing I was worried about was feeling everyone's pain coming here, but Isak's...associate...made some horrid potion that tasted like spoilt milk to help. Seems to be stopping me from feeling other's pain for once, so that's a positive!"

"Hmm?" Honey asked curiously. "Feeling other's pain? Well, that sounds very unfortunate. How exactly does that work? Is it a mental thing or can you actually feel the pain physically?" While being able to feel other's pain might be a useful skill for a healer, it could also no doubt be an absolute curse. After all, what happened if Eilerias came upon a dying man? How intensely could their pain effect her?

"Please come visit any time, we would love to have you there. Forget if Isak or the dwarf tell you to pay for anything, its on me."

"Oh, well in that case," Honey continued with a playful laugh. "I've never been one to say no to a free drink and good company. And it'd be nice to see all these friends that Urchin won't stop chirping on about." Poor Isak. Eilerias was going to bankrupt the man with her generosity.

As the fight between Mute and Samara ended and the next matched began, Eilerias stormed away to deal with Isak. "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 up, I'll bet."

"Uh, Honey, could ya be a doll an' get the door, please?" he asked awkwardly.

Honey raised an eyebrow in confusion when she saw Urchin trying to drag Khalid into the back room. "Urchin, what're you doing?" she asked sternly, with a hand on her hip to emphasize that she would not be entertaining any of his lies tonight.

"Nuthin'," the boy replied defensively. "The Boss just wants ta ask the guy where a few questions is all. Probably wants ta tell 'im off fer the cheatin', I'm guessin'. Got ta get 'im in the back before 'e wakes up."

"Well you make sure he doesn't "question" the man alone," Honey insisted. "You keep an eye on him. Or make sure that your priestess friend is in the room when the "questioning" goes down. I know what men like these are like, and I don't want the poor man getting tortured under my nose!" Honey insisted as she opened the door.

"Oh, I'm sure it ain't nuthin' like that," Urchin insisted... Though, to be honest, he didn't really know what exactly Isak was capable of. The man might be a saint in front of Eilerias, but what he was like when she wasn't around... Well, a man didn't get to become a crime lord and powerful and infamous as him without breaking a few eggs along the way. "Ta, Honey," Urchin thanked his friend as she opened the door. "Uh, Charity, ya mind givin' me an 'and with this guy? He's 'eavy." ... Well, he wasn't really that heavy, Urchin was just pathetically weak.
 
Well, he'd put up a good fight, but it was clearer that Samara was faster, stronger and more experienced than him. For every blow he managed to doge, Samara landed two more and he was quickly starting to wear down. Mute was certainly out of practice and would definitely commit to some intense training before he got back in the ring again.

Unfortunately, his attempt to pin Samara to the ground completely backfired on him. The woman not only managed to escape, but also caught him in a headlock that left him entirely at her mercy. She could probably have snapped his neck there and then if she wanted, but luckily for Mute, Samara wasn't quite brutal enough to end the fight in that fashion.

Well, Mute wasn't about to give up that easy. Despite Samara having the man practically immobilized in her grip, Mute used every ounce of strength he had left to try and break free. He tried to roll onto his side, but that failed as Samara had too tight a grip around his leg. He then tried to lean forward and break her grip around his neck, but that only made her grip tighter, putting him at an even greater disadvantage. He used his free arm to try and lash out at her, but hitting someone from behind when they had a choke hold on you was extremely difficult, and while the blows landed, they didn't do a whole lot of damage from this angel.

Minutes dragged by as Mute attempted over and over to break free of Samara's grip. To either flip her off of him, or at least release the hold that she had around his neck. Every attempt failed, and Mute was quickly running out of breath and running out of strength. This was certainly not how he had expected the fight to end. When he walked into the ring he had expected that nothing short of a knock out or being physically thrown from the ring would stop him, but right now, he was just embarrassing himself. Samara had him trapped in this choke hold for almost five minutes straight and the audience were starting to get bored. Perhaps he should just accept when he was beaten.

With one final effort, Mute put every last ounce of strength into throwing himself forward, holding his breath as Samara's grip around his neck tightened, blocking his airways in the process. He threw all of his weight onto his one free leg, finally managing to throw himself to his knees. The crowd let out a loud cheer to finally see Mute starting to get up after so long. Maybe they'd get a little more action after all.

Summoning the very last of his strength, Mute managed to get up to his feet, trying to throw Samara off his back, but she clung on tightly, completely unphased by the effort. With his free hand, Mute took a firm grip on the arm that Samara had looped around his neck, pulling on it with all his strength, trying to break her hold on him... But it was no good. Samara was too strong, and Mute had already used up what little strength he had left trying to throw her off. Besides having her arm wrapped so tightly around his neck was seriously effecting his breathing. He was starting to get dizzy and weak. If this went on much longer, he would eventually pass out.

In the end Mute finally accepted that there was nothing more he could do and collapsed to the ground, pounding it with his one free fist to signify his submission.

"The Mute surrenders!" Perrault cried out. "Samara is the winner!" Which resulted in a huge uproar from the audience. Folks were literally screaming their approval... Save of course those who had placed money on Mute. They were a bit disgruntled.

Well, it could've been worse, Mute thought to himself. He'd given it his all and that had certainly been one hell of a fight. He'd be walking away with some nasty bruised, but no broken bones or any injures that would leave any serious damage. Besides, he couldn't have picked somebody he'd rather have lost a fight against. Samara definitely had what it took to win this entire thing.

After the battle was over and both competitors left the ring, Perrault announced the fight between Isak and Khalid. That fight... Certainly went unexpectedly. It was probably a good thing that Isak would not be progressing to the next round. He would've been a formidable opponent for anyone.

"And now," Perrault yelled out straight after the fight between Isak and Khalid was over, quickly trying to distract the audience from the obvious cheating they had just witnessed and get their spirits high again. "I give you a newcomer to Alliria. A stranger from the magical city of Elbion, come to Alliria seeking fame, and fortune, I give you all, Mortimer!" A cheer went out for the Mortimer, though not as loud as some of the others had been. He was a newcomer to the fighting scene, and the crowd didn't know what he was capable of it. This next fight would certainly tell.

"And, from the far reaches of the Ixchel Wilds!" a very loud, almost deafening cheer went up at that moment. The audience knew exactly who Perrault was talking about. "A man who needs know introduction! The legendary fighter! The barbarian warrior! The man who slew a warg with his bare hands! The one, the only, Fist!" And with that, the crowd went absolutely wild as the giant veteran made his way into the ring. Poor Mortimer was certainly going to have his work cut out for him.
 
Isak let out a deep breath as Eilerias entered the room, fuming. Her eyes were locked onto his, and he could almost feel her anger, which was justified. He should've told her about his plan to deal with the cheater, but he knew very well that Eilerias would try to stop him, and he was all but powerless to refuse her requests.

Eilerias reached closer, her hands glowing with her magic as they touched Isak's injuries, and he almost jumped back, not wanting to risk her health for having her heal him. "Eile, wait--" He tried to talk her out of it, but she was much more stubborn than him, and Isak wouldn't try to upset her even more in her condition. He only hoped the medicines she was taking from Khet would keep her and their baby healthy, while she dangerously took Isak's own pain to herself.

Her magic had become much more potent in the last few months, with his pain quickly vanishing upon her touch and the cuts and burns from Khalid's strikes disappearing as well, without leaving scars.

"I'm sorry. I had to deal with the cheater swiftly, or there would be a mob of angry bettors after us." He spoke after a few moments of silence as she finished healing his wounds, looking right into Eilerias' golden eyes, silently begging her to calm down a bit. She still looked a bit angry, but he hoped she would forgive his recklessness, reaching for her hand and entwining their fingers together.

"We have to get to the bottom of this. Urchin should have Khalid already hidden away somewhere, and I should question him." Isak relayed some of his thoughts to her, thinking of how he would get his answers from that man. Perhaps with the realization that he was cornered and jailed in a foreign country, with no friends to get him out, the sense of desperation could 'persuade' him into explaining to Isak how he managed to grab hold of such dangerous powers and why he tried to use them to gain some profit in a few illegal fights.

Isak chuckled a bit after seeing Eilerias frowning, perhaps wondering what kinds of torture he would try on that poor man. "Don't worry, I won't torture him. I'll just ask him a few questions... politely." He raised from the bench, putting on his shirt before taking the staircase to the lobby with Eilerias by his side. He could see the open door at the back of the bar, and some movement there that he could only assume it was Urchin, and whoever else had helped him carry the battered Khalid to his 'questioning chamber.'

"Good work, Urchin." Isak spoke after reaching the room, startling Urchin and Charity and also another blonde woman who was standing nearby, watching them as they put Khalid in a chair and tied him with a few tight ropes. "Hello, Charity. Are you also fighting tonight?" He had the smallest of smiles as he talked to her, not really surprised of seeing her looking for trouble once again. It was almost a natural trait of hers, and Isak had gotten used to it. She was a very valuable thief after all, the best in all of Alliria.

Isak looked to the still unconscious man at the chair, his expression falling into seriousness. He wondered if the rest of those people would remain there, perhaps to make sure that he wouldn't kill Khalid, but Isak said nothing, merely taking a few steps forward after talking with Urchin and Charity, standing in front of Khalid as Eilerias asked him not to hurt the man even more.

Just a little bit more, perhaps.

"Urchin, wake him up."

A few moments after his order, Urchin came back to the room with a bucket of cold water, throwing it all over Khalid who woke up screaming of horror and groaning in pain. The scrawny man opened his eyes to see the imposing Isak almost looming over him, while he was shivering in both fear and coldness.

"Good evening, Mister Khalid. I'm afraid we haven't been properly introduced yet, even in our fight..." He put one of his gloved hands to his chest, a common sign of respect, but in a mocking way. "I am Isak Lavelle, one of those in charge of these little brawls. And it has come to my attention that you aimed for too high a price, even trying to bend and break our rules."

Isak took another deep breath, pausing for a moment to think about his next steps, before finally pushing on, his voice as cold and bitter like never before. His gaze was terrifying and intimidating, and he could feel that Khalid wanted to cower even more into his chair as Isak took another step forward.

"Now, I can make sure nothing else happens to you tonight, in exchange for information. You will tell us how you managed to cheat your opening fight. Tell me everything, don't spare a single detail or else..."

Isak crossed his arms as a small smirk formed on his lips. "There's a massive crowd out there, still angry that you spoiled some of their fun by trying to cheat your way to the prize."
 
Well, he didn't have much time to alter his body for speed as he waited for his match now, but he'd make it work. As he had been changing up his physical form ever so slightly under the skin, he had taken a seat to watch the match between Mute and Samara as he at some jerky.

"That's the spirit!" Urchin said enthusiastically. Mortimer was always a good sport. "Now, 'cos of the limp in 'is leg, the big guy can't move around so fat, so I'd say a whole lotta fancy footwork would be yer best bet. Also, he's a lot bigger than ya, so you should be able ta dodge some o' them punches by duckin' yer 'ead down low. Maybe ya can trip 'im outta the ring or summin'? I dunno, but there's a hell of a lot o' folks bettin' on this guy, so if ya can take 'im out in 'is first fight, the 'ouse is gonna make a fortune!"
"Good to know, I'll do what I can to put that info to good use." As much as he liked the kid, he wasn't sure how trustworthy the information was. Would the house earn more by him defeating Fist this early, or would it be more beneficial for them to have his name going for a few more days to draw in more gamblers? That was a bit to complex for him, and any info was good info. Heck, he could probably turn it into misleading info during the fight if he was smart about it.

Mort gave a small cheer for the so-called 'Silent Slave', wondering if the title was literal, metaphorical, or just an artifact of a bygone time. He wouldn't bet any money on either fighter though, as a woman that confident in her hand-to-hand skills against a man that build had to of had the skill to back it up.

He'd take a deep breath from his soles and let the magic of pneuma flow through him, speeding up his mind to analyze both combatants as they fought as there wasn't any rules against using magic outside of a fight to observe. At least he hoped that was the case. Both combatants did quite well from his viewpoint, a bruiser versus a speedster was always a joy to watch, but the longer it went on it become more clear that the elf was both a hard hitter, quick on their feet, and able to take a good deal of punishment. Were elves really that strong by nature? Sure he knew they were graceful and shooting a bow took solid arm strength, but as she put the man in a headlock he wondered if there was more to the story. Hopefully he'd get far enough into the night to ask her for it, if she even told it to him,

There was also the fight between Isak and Khalid which people gathered for, and while it was tempting to make an effort to see past the bystanders that had taken up his viewing angle, but the sounds of the crowd around them told him that it was more or less a one-sided match. Sure Khalid was from his homeland, but he slipped up and was probably lucky he wasn't dead as he watched Urchin move the man. And as much as he wanted to help the boy...

Well, it was his time to shine.

Stepping up to the ring, he'd dramatically take off the outer layer of his clothing and set it aside, revealing the elaborate runic armsleeve on his left arm and fake wands of wood, copper, & steel he had underneath. He'd then carefully take both of them off of his person alongside his scarf and set them on top of his outerwear to show that he was serious about not using magic, unlike the previous contestant. He had debated on keeping the scarf on for the fight, but if this man was able to take on a warg, a scarf would only be detrimental for him in a hand-to-hand fight like this one. As soon as he did take them off, he took a quick moment to make sure no one immediately went for his gear, giving a quick glare to those did look like they'd try something that dirty, then turned to face his opponent. Sure the wands were fake, but that armsleeve would be a pain to recreate, and the scarf, well, it was his scarf. No way he was going to lose that scarf and he didn't even have pity for the person who may take it in the possible future.

Giving Fist a quick gentlemanly bow, he was honestly a little nervous of the man's hand being strong enough by itself to crush his own, even with the extra time he had been given to strengthen his body. Still, this was a show, and he'd give the respect to his opponent that they deserved. "A wargslayer from Ixchel. eh? Always wanted to visit that place myself. Still, Don't expect me to be a waltz in the wilds just because I'm from Elbion and limiting myself." He'd give the biggest grin he could muster, enough that the corners of his cheeks hurt. "So come at me with your best Fist, I'll expect nothing less!" And he'd wait for Perrault to signal the start of the match. His plan was simple: Dodge, try to make it look like he was told that the right leg was the bad one, and then do the ol' switcheroo. Classic stuff really, maybe he could write a book about it.
 
Before storming off, Eilerias briefly explained her powers to Honey. "It is physical pain that I feel. Mostly just a dull pain when someone is hurting or even someone's emotional state that I feel. It only ever gets bad when I'm working on them. I absorb it while I heal someone and it can be....exhausting to say the least."

She looked up at him as he asked her to stop healing his wounds, squinting her eyes angrily. Her hands began to glow brighter, quickly healing all his wounds. She was quiet as she worked, silently planning what she would say after she finished. "Why could you not let someone else fight him or wait until he was done?" She questioned, watching a few of his older scars seemingly fade from existence.

"Stop telling me not to do my job!" She pulled her hand away from his angrily. "I am a better healer than Lidia or any of the other acolytes. We both know that. We also both know you refuse healing from anyone other than me, so don't tell me to stop what I'm doing because if I don't' do it, you'll end up dead." She looked away as she stopped healing. "Please stop treating me like something is wrong with me." She sighed, grabbing his hand once again. "Let me do my job. My powers have only gotten stronger recently."

Her expression softened after she finished yelling and she calmed down, listening to Isak's plan to deal with the cheater. She frowned as he mentioned the hidden man needing questioning. "I'm coming with." She demanded as she stood, following him to the area behind the bar.

She could sense a bit of concern as she passed by Charity and Honey and smiled at the two. "Don't worry, he says he' just going to ask questions." She tried to reassure them, though she wasn't sure it was the truth.

"He's pretty messed up." She commented upon seeing Khalid up close, right before Urchin tossed a bucket of water on him. She watched him shiver and flinch when he hit sore spots on his body from all the movement. "Gods. The poor thing's going to go into shock. At least give him a towel or let me heal him." She looked up at Isak after he spoke, demanding for information.

She could feel the potion Khet gave her beginning to wear off as she became aware of a dull pain taking over her body. She made no mention of it, as to not worry Isak. She ignored him speaking to Khalid and walked up close and circling him, trying to figure out if it was Khalid that was injured or if it was someone else in the vicinity. "Did anyone manage to heal the guy that this one nearly killed?" She asked quietly, making her way back to Isak's side. She took note that Khalid had a broken nose, but chose not to heal it until Isak was done with his questioning.
 
Ryna made her way through the crowd, not knowing if this was the place Urchin told her about. Her gaze wandered a little bit of everywhere. She saw people getting lugged off the be treated for wounds. She saw people in a ring duking it out. "This has got to be it." She said to herself. She walked to the ring side and watched the fight. It didn't seem all that interesting to her. She yawned a bit. She tilted her head and laid it in her hand.

"What's the deal with this?" She said aloud. The fight went on for sometime before it had come to an end. Ryna clapped respectfully. 'Fighting should be for protection but, this does seem intriguing.' She thought. Ryna could sign up just for the hell of it, but she wanted to wait. She wanted to see what the competition is.

Naturally, Ryna was born to fight and defend, but this called for strategy. Skills that she hadn't quite fully gotten control of yet. She wasn't about to go into a ring with some brute with no plan and no strategy. Her mother had a saying, "The more risk, the more reward." It was her favorite saying. Well, that and, "Be late for supper again and I break your arm." Ryna laughed under her breath, shaking her head lightly.

Ryna was going to sign up for a fight. Completely unlike her, but she had nothing better to do and it would help with her fighting skills. For now, she needed to find Urchin. Knowing him, by now he'd be swimming in money. She looked around for a while, finding no trace of Urchin.
 
Diedrick phased out mid-fight, contemplating about things that concerned none but himself. Suddenly, an unknown hand landed on Diedrick's round shoulder, alerting the male of a foreign presence. Turning his head, he met with the sight of a fair-skinned, red-haired man of emerald green eyes. The stranger wore a shit-eating grin and an exaggerated swagger of someone who came for no other reason but to cause trouble.

"Hello there," he mused, voice laced with undertones of mockery. Diedrick's busy brain failed to pick up on the gesture as it struggled with facial recognition. Diedrick paused, eyes fluttering in thinly veiled bewilderment. "Do I know you?" His question was barely above a whisper, yet even he struggled to discern the identity of the person currently invading his personal space. The stranger's grin widened, forming dimples on his cheeks while simultaneously revealing his pearly white teeth. His Cheshire grin felt forced but also genuinely excited at the same time.

"Does the name Alain Ranour ring any bells to you?" Diedrick's gaze narrowed at the rhetorical question, gaze lowering until a metaphorical lightbulb lit above his head. It felt like a eureka moment for the spatially distorted man.

"You ought to be kidding me. Alain, that's you?"

"In flesh no less!"
retorted Alain, raising his hand to pat Diedrick's back. "You forgot about me?"

Diedrick looked him up and down. Alain hadn't aged a day since they last met, the only difference being his newly acquired haircut and an even more pompous attire. Alain spared no quarter when fashion was concerned. He wore a silk shirt outlined by golden threads that formed an ornate collar. Alain purposefully picked a bigger size to allow his frame freedom of movement. When Diedrick's examination reached the lower parts of Alain's body, he noted an expensive-looking belt that kept the redhead's pants in place. Pants that he, without a doubt, picked based on looks instead of utility.

"Well, you had less hair back then, not to mention," Diedrick's eyebrows slopped in utter confusion, "more jewelry." He couldn't quite rationalize Alain's new style. Surely, it was still tacky, but he had a fuckton more style and, for the lack of better words, taste. Diedrick expected Alain to be wearing rings, bracelets, a necklace even, only to disappoint himself when none came into view.

"I'd rather NOT talk about that," Alain sniffed, absentmindedly gazing at the ring. "I've been watching you, Diedrick. Since when do you associate yourself with the bottom-feeding scum skulking about in this shithole of an area?" He was, of course, referring to the other participants, gamblers, and even kids like Urchin. Alain looked upon them with no small amount of disgust, not even bothering to hide it.

"Wait a moment," Diedrick was about to rise, ticked off by Alain's uncouth and frankly uncalled commentary. "Shouldn't I be asking you the exact same thing?" Diedrick wasn't the one to get angered easily, but Alain's absolute shittery caught him by surprise. The man was up to no good. Only a fool wouldn't recognize that he came here for no other reason but to provoke someone into a duel.

"Ah, ah! Don't bunch me up with those low-lives. I am not here for the money. Frankly, I couldn't care less about it."

"Then what do you want?"

"Allow me to finish,"
retorted Alain, eyes twinkling with malice. "I am here to test my unarmed prowess. I've been taking my sweet time learning how to fight without a sword, and honestly, there's a certain charm to it." Alain rose his hand, clenching his fist with such intensity that veins began rippling across the exposed skin. "To feel the opponent's bones grind into dust under your knuckles is one of the most intoxicating sensations I have ever experienced. It is easy to find yourself addicted to such things, no?"
 
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Ryna wasn't paying attention to where she was walking. All she was worried about was finding her small friend. She glanced over at the ring, continuing her voyage. She stopped for a moment. " This is different..." She said softly. Ryna's gaze shifted from the ring and she began walking again, only to suddenly run into someone. She stumbled back, finding and regaining balance. "My apologies, Sir." She said, bowing respectfully. When she stood from her bow, the person she ran into looked familiar but, she didn't recognize them.

A man stood in front of her, much taller than her. His skin tanned and scared. The man had long limbs and was bulkier than most. The first thing she saw on him was his long and messy hair. Speechless, Ryna put her hands together in a praying motion. "
Please, forgive me for running into you." She said rather softly.

To be completely honest with herself, at first sight of the man, it frightened her a bit. She hadn't seen someone with of his stature before. Her father must have been up to the man's biceps. At any rate, she did not want to have a negative altercation with him.
 
"Good work, Urchin." Isak spoke after reaching the room, startling Urchin and Charity and also another blonde woman who was standing nearby, watching them as they put Khalid in a chair and tied him with a few tight ropes.

"No problem, Boss," Urchin said proudly as he fumbled around with the ropes, trying to tie the unconscious man to the chair. Now, how did this go again? Over, under, around and through. Meet Mr Bunny Rabbit... No wait, that was for tying shoe laces. Giving up on the idea of tying any kind of professional knot, he just tied an extremely basic knot about a dozen times in the hope that this would be strong enough to hold the man in place.

"Urchin, wake him up."

"Sure thing," the lad said happily, glad to be given some kind of responsibility, however small. It meant that Isak trusted him to follow basic instructions without fucking up, which was certainly a start. Grabbing a glass of water, Urchin through it straight into Khalid's face... Which had no effect whatsoever. "Weird. I thought that was s'posed ta work." Well, this was certainly embarrassing. After throwing a couple more glasses of water in the man's face to no avail, Honey handed him a bucket, which he filled to the brim, stumbled and spilled across the room as he struggled with it's weight before pouring it over the man's head, causing Khalid to cough and sputter as he finally regained consciousness... Yey!

"Did anyone manage to heal the guy that this one nearly killed?"

"Yeah, I think so," the lad informed her. "One of yer little apprentice people. What was 'er name? Lily? Lisa? Linda? Definitely a Li-summin'." Urchin had never been particularly good with names.

As Isak started to seriously intimidate the man, Urchin came to the realization that he probably shouldn't be witness to whatever happened in here. "Uh... Boss, I should get back ta the fights. Bets ta take an' fighters ta sign up an' that. Dun wanna lose no money, ya know." And with that, the lad slipped back to the warehouse. He didn't worry too much though. Eilerias was there to make sure that Isak didn't get into too much trouble.

Once back outside, he headed towards his little corner where he was taking all the bets and realized that another familiar figure had entered the building. "Lady!" he declared happily, heading over to Ryna. He still referred to the woman as 'Miss' or 'Lady' since she had never given him her actual name. "Ya made it! Come ta sign up fer the fights? We got some decent competition in tonight, so should be fun!" he said encouragingly.

Turning to see that Diedrick was talking to someone, he looked the man up and down, realizing that he looked just like him... If Urchin was considerably taller and had any amount of muscle on him. "'Ello," the lad gave the man a friendly greeting. "You a friend of Didi?" Though if he'd paid just a little bit of attention to social cues and body language, he'd probably have realized that the two were not exactly friends.

Hearing the next fight being announced, Urchin clambered up onto an empty table to get a better view. "Oh, Miss, ya gotta see this!" He called, offering Ryna his hand to help her up. "That there's a friend o' mine, Mort. He's gonna fight the biggest, meanest bastard what ever stepped foot in that there ring. This should be real good"

"A wargslayer from Ixchel. eh? Always wanted to visit that place myself. Still, Don't expect me to be a waltz in the wilds just because I'm from Elbion and limiting myself."

In response to Mortimer's friendly greeting, Fist gave an ill mannered spit to the ground in distaste. Obviously, he wasn't one for good sportsmanship or friendly banter between rivals. "Throw in the towel now if you know what's good for you, little man," the giant warned him with a cold, hard glare. "By the look of you, I'd say I could rip you limb from limb without breaking a sweat." The man was clearly far from invincible though, considering he he his fair share of scars and had lost about half his teeth over the years. As soon as Perrault signaled for the fight to begin, Fist let out a fearsome war cry as he charged at Mortimer with all his strength, though as he did so, the limp in his left leg became considerably more noticeable.
 
It was a testament to Mute's strength he was about to strain against her hold for as long as he had. The duration of his suffering had gone a little longer than she expected, but after writhing in the ring together struggling to maintain or break the hold Mute tapped out. The moment the round ended her grip went lax to allow the man to move and breathe once more. Restricting his breathing hadn't been an aim, but with the way he had refused to surrender it had been difficult to limit it to restraining his ability to move effectively.

Samara stepped along side Mute after they left the ring. The crowd had been amused, but she hadn't blown anyone's mind to get swept away. Or perhaps they were afraid she'd drop them if they tried. No, there had to be enough drunk people present to eventually push their luck. So, the Elf was free to find the battered man. After she'd wiped away some of her own blood, of course. "You're strong as well as smart. Perhaps later you could show me a few of those moves? I'll buy the drinks." Technique was as important as brute strength. There were always stronger, more lethal creatures that prowled the world.

Soon enough another round with the 'Cheater' begun with the man that exuded authority claiming the honor. A strange and unexpected match up. Samara was certain there were probably plenty present that would have loved the chance... and likely others that knew that was a damned foolish thing to wish for. So they were trying to save face by removing a cheat before they progressed too far into the match then. Surprisingly in a manner that had the crowd realize the problem themselves. Less chance someone would claim the matches were rigged just because someone -- even someone of power -- claimed it.

A soft snort followed just how quickly the match was ended after the booing started. Isek certainly hadn't gotten lazy in claiming whatever authority he held here. Sure, the first match hadn't had the area's champion facing off with Khalid; but that didn't explain just how fast Isek turned the tables on the cheater.

A little while later, after the disabled cheater was relocated within the establishment, the next round was announced and Urchin's friend made his own debut... against Fist. An unexpected pairing given so many challengers remaining, but perhaps they wanted to give the crowd a taste of the final match or see if Mortimer was an even better contender to cap the night. Urchin certainly sounded excited for the bout at least.

With a quick smile thrown Mute's way, the Dark Elf began to make her way toward the bar. Samara dropped coin atop the bar, then raised two fingers. "Mute's favorite." It was her first time here so aside from a generic 'wine' choice, Samara hadn't any idea what the man liked. The bartender was sure to know a thing or two of a man that hung around these parts, right?

Samara glanced at the others present around the bar, curious what sorts of faces she'd find there. Wouldn't hurt to get to know some of the regulars. If they weren't in chatty mood, however, or didn't like strangers at least she'd walk away with a few drinks. Samara could always harass or be harassed by Diedrick, after all. Bit concerning the man already fingered her for a Vampire. Had he seen something at the docks? Samara had tried to keep it discrete, but there had been a time or two less...natural powers had been warranted.
 
After the fight, one of Eilerias's young acolytes offered to heal his injuries, but the Mute gave a shake of his head. He would be fine. His injuries were nothing that time and rest couldn't heal. Let them serve as a motivator for him to up his game, push him self harder and buff up a bit before he considered getting in the ring again.

"You're strong as well as smart. Perhaps later you could show me a few of those moves? I'll buy the drinks."

Mute smiled at Samara's kind offer and held up a hand to refuse. She had won the fight after all, he should be the one buying the drinks to congratulate her. But Samara insisted and had already ordered the drink and put down the coin on his behalf. Well, why not? After all, she had a very good chance of winning this contest and if she did, she'd had 50 extra gold coins to line her pockets. A few drinks wouldn't hurt, though he would insist on buying her the next round.

Putting a hand on Samara's shoulder to get her attention and performed some basic gestures that he hoped she would understand. First he lifted both hands and shrugged his shoulders to indicate a question. Second, he pointed at Samara, and third, he clenched both his fists and held them up to his face in a fighting pose.

What he wanted to ask her was, 'Where did you learn to fight like that?' but the gestures could be interpreted in different ways. 'How do you fight so well?', 'When did you get so good at fighting?' 'Who taught you how to fight?' Still, however she interpreted it, the answer would likely be similar regardless. Samara was an incredibly talented fighter, and he was fascinated.
 
Interrogation was a game of patience, but after taking quite a few hits in that fight, Isak wasn't really fond about sitting around and just waiting for Khalid to spill his secrets.

Isak shrugged nonchalantly as Urchin talked about attending to the other fights, leaving him to deal with the cheater by himself. Eilerias was there, and even though the medicine given to her by Khet helped her in supressing the pain she felt coming from others, Isak knew he couldn't go overboard with his 'questions', but that chained man was stubborn.

After a few minutes of polite questioning and empty threats, Isak was starting to lose his fabled patience. He was a means of ruthless results and cold regards, often caring only about the money he could get from his jobs, the leverages he could gain from his undertakings, but this night had been stranger than most. It wasn't often that people gathered around to bet on fights, even in a place like the Outer City of Alliria, and it was even rarer to see a scrawny man, overtaken by a inhuman strength, beating someone to a pulp without much trouble.

Lavelle clenched his fists after yet another unanswered question, starting to wonder if that man even feared him. That had to be remedied, people often needed to be reminded about where their respects lied, especially in a place like Alliria.

He drew his arm and punched Khalid across the face as the man groaned in pain. He was still shivering from Urchin's cold buckets of water, and with one of Eilerias' acolytes having already healed him for the most part, there was still plenty left of him to damage. Isak gave him a few more punches in the face, and then to his belly, making him gasp for air before Khalid eventually stopped, cowardly shunning away from the emerging ball of fire in Isak's hand.

Of course, no sane person would enjoy being burned to a crisp over fake loyalty.

"I-I don't know anything about them, but some strange people gave me a weird powder and said that it would make me win the fights, that I would share the money with them! That's all I know, I swear!" Khalid spoke in a rush, finally fearing for his life. Isak let the flame on his hand slowly vanish to the air, a wicked smirk forming on his lips.

"Gratitude for your cooperation, Mr Khalid."

One last punch, and Khalid was out cold again, but they wouldn't need Urchin and his water buckets for now. Isak sighed, displeased at the lack of details given to him by that man, but he suspected that the poor fellow had told him all he knew. Isak could see that by the fear in his eyes as he looked to the flames.

Without many leads to follow, Isak decided to remain and watch the next fights unfold, to see if anything else would turn up, counting on Perrault and Urchin to help him if any other troubles came up.
 
Eilerias was quiet, observing the interrogation techniques Isak used. The man known as Khalid, however, didn't respond well to his questions, choosing to maintain silence. That was until Isak began to hit him in an attempt to get his answers and Eilerias regretted testing how long she could withstand feeling other's pain.

Over and over the punches came down on the tied up cheater. Eilerias wanted to stop him. The poor guy wasn't the mastermind behind the scandal! But the pain that came to the man from each punch quickly made their way to her. By the time he had the fire in his hand, the pain was growing unbearable and making her feel rather sick, so she decided to abuse her skills with the shadows to make a silent exit, hoping to get out of the building quickly, but she only made it just past the bar, tripping and cutting her shin on some glass from a bottle that must have been dropped.

"Sorry." She whispered, keeping her eyes low as she shoved her way past Samara and Mute, feeling the blood from the deep cut dripping onto the floor behind her. She wove her way through the crowd, avoiding her friends as not to worry them, and finally made her way outside. At this point, she didn't know what was worse, the pain from the cut or the sickness she felt from the potion wearing off.

In a panic, she located a pot that housed a fairly dead plant and threw up in it before sliding to the ground to assess the damage the broken glass had caused her. The cut was deep and several inches long, but it wasn't something she couldn't heal on her own. She put her glowing hands up to her leg and her skin quickly sealed leaving only a very bloody trail behind.

She reached in her cloak pocket and pulled out a small vial, uncapping it and pouring it in her mouth. She gagged at the awful taste, but after a few minutes the pain began to subside once again. She stayed sitting against the warehouse outer wall, planning on reentering as soon as she felt well enough to enjoy the rest of the fights. She wouldn't miss watching Charity for the world.
 
"Throw in the towel now if you know what's good for you, little man," the giant warned him with a cold, hard glare. "By the look of you, I'd say I could rip you limb from limb without breaking a sweat."
"Hah! I like your funny words Warg man!" With the fight started Mort got to business. Fist wasn't wrong, he probably could break him in half with those muscles stacked on top of muscles, but that wouldn't matter if he couldn't get a hit on Mort. And now that he was in the fight properly, It was clear his plan was going to need some improvements, as while he had originally wanted to put on a small show, get the man overconfident, and win in an amazing and spectacular fashion, doubt was creeping in. And he had forgotten to slightly shorten himself a few inches, so diving in-between the man's legs was no longer an option, though seeing the man as he moved it was clear it would have almost never been an option.

Getting low, he'd wait for the man to get closer, then dove to the right to avoid Fist and rolled back to a crouching position, and then tried to kick the back of the man's left knee as he spun back around to keep his eyes on his opponent, having completely forgotten that if he wanted to extend the fight even slightly that Mort's left was the man's right and vice versa. There was also that small but fun little fact of the back of a person's knee being rather weak against impact. If his attack hit he'd immediately back off so that his opponent wouldn't be able to fall on him like the redwood he was, and if he missed, well he'd still back off as the chance the man's namesake would be flying fight at Mort's pretty punchable face. A man who fought a Warg was likely strong and durable, but the speed he had displayed at the start of the fight told Mort he didn't know how to speed up his movement as a man of that much muscle should've been able to push his body faster. That or he was holding back, hopefully the former as the latter was both insulting, and a life hazard.
 
The Dark Elf turned to look at Mute at his request after placing the order. The silent man provided a few gestures that took a moment to realize their intent. Did she want to fight again? Why did she fight? No, how or where did she learn how to fight seemed the more likely question.

"A little of everywhere," Samara replied as she leaned back against the bar with a smirk. "Mostly street fighting until I made enough coin to entice a professional or two here or there. Even then I was turned down more often than not. Few want to train absolute strangers." All of which Mute might already know from personal experience in his own life.

A few seconds passed as she regarded the man. "I didn't have much of a choice. You already know I lost the ability to conjure magic." At least anything worth remarking about, though those completely bereft of the ability would probably have a word or two to say like 'at least you can do that much.' "Well, let's say I had some very dangerous, very driven people after me when I fled home. If I couldn't burn them alive, I'd use what I had on hand." Didn't hurt that the enhanced strength bestowed by the fiend's 'gift' lend itself to physical combat. Use your strengths, develop your weaknesses.

"There were a few moves of your own in the ring, Mute, I'd enjoy learning about later if you're inclined. Old habit of a former Mage -- never stop learning." Laughter melodiously danced in the air after the remark.

The laughter ended when Eilerias shoved her way passed the Dark Elf. Samara turned with furrowed brow, but didn't raise a hand in response. The other woman muttered an apology even as she continued to move forward.

Once the sudden arrival merged into the crowd, Samara turned to look at Mute with her head tilted. A slight jerk of her head in Eilerias' direction followed. A strange encounter to say the least. "I'm going to check what that's all about. I won't be long." At least she didn't expect anything would come of it, but then you never could tell in her line of work.

It wasn't difficult to follow the woman toward the exit she'd chosen either. The blood gave it away. Not the scent -- Samara was no blood hound -- but the crimson droplets on the floor. They might be smudged by the foot traffic, but there was enough of it someone that hunted in the forest didn't have any trouble following.

Feeling hungry after the fight?

Samara swallowed the unwanted reminder of the thirst that couldn't be quenched by liquor, booze, or water. Even with red, hot crimson on her lips it would be an overstatement to say it was ever truly quenched.

The Elven woman stepped outside and scanned the immediate area for signs of Eilerias' passing. It didn't take long to find the woman that'd slumped down against the wall sans wound. Magic? Healing potion? Didn't explain her haste for fresh air though.

"Are you alright? Nasty cut back there," Samara called out as she slowly moved in the other woman's direction. She'd stop short, of course, or at the sign of the woman getting skittish or conjuring a fireball. Yes, fire would definitely be a good indication to stay far away.
 
Honey shook her head with a sigh as Urchin started attempting to tie the unconscious man to a chair. "I don't like you getting involved with stuff like this kid, you know that. You're going to get in over your head some day," she scolded the boy. Still, she knew there was little she could do. The lad was stubborn and currently in that teenage phase where he thought he was immortal. He'd have to figure out his limitations on his own.

When Isak and Eilerias arrived, Honey found that she really didn't want to be there. Handsome as Isak might be, when he looked down on Khalid, there was a look in the man's eyes that was downright scary. Whatever happened in this room, she didn't want to be part of it. Beside, Eilerias was there to keep him in check. Presumably, Isak wouldn't do anything too violent that might upset the pregnant priestess. Without saying a word, Honey headed back to the main warehouse building and behind her little makeshift bar... Damn, what a night this was turning out to be.

"Mute's favorite."

Well, it looked like Mute was making some new friends. That was certainly nice to see. And a woman who could kick some serious ass too. Honey definitely approved. "Ale it is," she said as she went to pour the drink. Granted, she wasn't sure if it was actually Mute's favorite, but it's what he usually ordered. "And for you, gorgeous? Something tells me you need a drink after a fight like that. Never in my life have I seen a woman who could fight like that. You were amazing," Honey complimented Samara. In truth, she seriously envied her. If only every woman in the world could fight like Samara. What a different place the world would be.

Shortly after though, Eilerias came running out of the backroom and headed outside, looking rather flustered. "Oh no," Honey whispered under her breath. The poor thing. What the hell was going on in that backroom that had upset her so much? Perhaps Honey shouldn't have left. Reaching across the bar, Honey rested her hand on Mute's shoulder. "Hey, go after her, will you? Make sure she's okay? She's a sweetheart. I don't want anyone following after her and trying to take advantage while she's alone." Luckily Mute's friend Samara seemed like she'd already gotten the same idea and had left to check that Eilerias was alright. Just as well. The bar was starting to get crowded and Honey had other customers to serve. When things started to quieten down though, she found herself turning to glance at the room where Isak still questioned Khalid. What the hell was going on in there? Perhaps she shouldn't have left after all.
 
"Lady!" he declared happily, heading over to Ryna. He still referred to the woman as 'Miss' or 'Lady' since she had never given him her actual name. "Ya made it! Come ta sign up fer the fights? We got some decent competition in tonight, so should be fun!" he said encouragement.
After running into Diedrick, Ryna decided to stand ringside. She didn't know what to do. Ryna looked at the bloody ground of the ring. "What a mess..." She heard her small friend and turned to him. "Urchin! Hey there, lad!" She exclaimed joyously. She wrapped an arm around him, happy to see him. She bent to one knee.
Hearing the next fight being announced, Urchin clambered up onto an empty table to get a better view. "Oh, Miss, ya gotta see this!" He called, offering Ryna his hand to help her up. "That there's a friend o' mine, Mort. He's gonna fight the biggest, meanest bastard what ever stepped foot in that there ring. This should be real good"

"Oh is he? He seems...Nice..." She said, taking the lads hand and getting up. She looked at the fight that was about to begin. "Have you kept your promise?" Ryna asked Urchin. He promised not to pick-pocket, she just wanted to see how he was doing with the task. She leaned against the ring, feeling a bit weak. She huffed as her breathing became unsteady.
 
Isak had become a little too invested in that interrogation, so much that he hadn't even noticed when Eilerias slipped to the shadows and vanished from the room.

After getting whatever bits of information he could from a beaten up Khalid, he looked around in search for her, only to realize that she was long gone. Isak wondered what could've happened that would make her leave so suddenly and without any warning, his mind already filled with worries over her. He decided to leave Khalid to sleep a bit more until Perrault or Urchin came to take him elsewhere.

In a hurry, Isak left the room and returned to the lobby, where his eyes scanned the whole surrounding but without any success of finding Eilerias. The people there were too invested in their drinks or discussing bets about the next fights, and Isak only grew more and more frustrated. Thankfully, the blonde lady from earlier called to him. He had seen her earlier, next to Urchin and also pouring drinks to Eilerias and Charity, assuming she was probably taking care of the bar, and she had been kind enough to offer him directions about where Eilerias had gone, although she did have a worried look on her face - and perhaps fear as well, after having seen Isak taking care of the cheater.

Isak thanked her quickly before beginning to head towards the nearby exit, his heart plunging a bit once he noticed a few blood drops leading him to a trail. He tried to push back any thoughts that would make him believe that the blood came from Eilerias, already wanting to burn down that whole place in case something happened to her. He rushed through the small crowds until he managed to leave the old building, and heading out to the emptiness of the street outside.

He looked around a bit, finally seeing Eilerias standing against a wall... with a woman nearing her. Isak recalled seeing her with Urchin earlier, but she was still a stranger to him, and he never trusted strangers.

Isak tried to compose himself as he approached, but his eyes were telling about the worry he had at that moment, seeing Eilerias use some of her magic to cure a injury. Did someone hurt her at the lobby? Who would even be stupid enough to try something against her?

"Eilerias? Is everything alright?" He spoke in his rasp voice once he neared the two women.
 
"A little of everywhere," Samara replied as she leaned back against the bar with a smirk. "Mostly street fighting until I made enough coin to entice a professional or two here or there. Even then I was turned down more often than not. Few want to train absolute strangers."

Yes, Mute certainly knew a thing or two about that. People around these parts were generally wary of strangers. Particularly strangers that couldn't talk. The way some people treated Mute, it was as if his silence were something he was doing deliberately, just to offend them. So yes, he could certainly relate to Samara's troubles. Not to mention that there were plenty who would discriminate against her on the grounds of being female alone, as the betting tonight had shown. Hopefully the bettors would start to take her a little more seriously, now that she had proven how capable she was.

"I didn't have much of a choice. You already know I lost the ability to conjure magic. Well, let's say I had some very dangerous, very driven people after me when I fled home. If I couldn't burn them alive, I'd use what I had on hand."

Yes, he'd known that, though he didn't exactly know the details of how it had happened. Even if he could speak though, he probably wouldn't ask her to elaborate. The loss of her magic was clearly a difficult subject for her. He couldn't help but scowl though, when Samara explained the reason she had learned to fight. So, there were people who were out to give her trouble? Well, he certainly hoped that they'd caught up to her and that she'd given them all what they deserved.

"There were a few moves of your own in the ring, Mute, I'd enjoy learning about later if you're inclined. Old habit of a former Mage -- never stop learning."

Mute smiled at that suggestion and nodded at Samara's suggestion. He'd be happy to show her what he knew. A little friendly sparring never hurt anyone, and hopefully he'd pick up on a few of her moves while he was at it. Perhaps, if they ever ended up in the ring together again, he might actually stand a chance next time.

Suddenly though, a very beautiful young woman emerged from one of the back rooms and tripped, seemingly injuring herself. She then ran outside looking very distressed. Samara kindly went to check on her, and Honey suggested that he do the same. With a sigh, the man shrugged his shoulders, downing what was left of his drink and heading over to where Urchin was standing with one of his lady friends as he cheered Mortimer on. Since it would take him half an hour to try and explain through signing, Mute just reached into Urchin's pockets without even asking.

"Oi!" the lad objected, irritably. "Mute, what ya doin'?" But Mute quickly found what he was looking for. A roll of bandages, which he held up for the boy to see. He'd gone straight to Urchin, since he knew that the lad always had bandages on him, 24/7. He wasn't sure why, but considering how many scrapes the boy got into, it was probably for the best.

"Huh?" Urchin mumbled as he looked at the bandages, assuming that Mute had gotten cut at some point during the fight and wanted them for that purpose. "Oh, sure, 'elp yerself." Mute nodded his thanks before heading outside to find Samara and the woman. By the time he got there, it seemed that Isak had arrived as well, and was concerned over who Mute could only assume to be his lover. Good, he'd be able to comfort her if she was upset.

Taking another look at Eilerias though, he felt guilty for his previous dismissal of her condition. He'd assumed the woman had just had too much to drink. But the look of her stomach though, it was a completely different issue that was causing her illness. (Of course, he had no clue whatsoever that she could physically feel the pain of others.) Walking up to Eilerias, Mute knelt down beside her and held up the bandages, silently offering to wrap up the cut around her ankle.