Open Chronicles Whiskey is the life of Man

A roleplay open for anyone to join
"So are they." Gavin replied to the Komodo as he took note of their pursuers.. They were closing the distance between them fast and in such, had abandon any notion that what they sort could be anything less then their blood. At least that was what the Captain gathered.

"Beaut who claims to be a dancer... Here." Gavin said and with a flick of his wrist a dagger appeared in his hand. With speed and skill, he twirled the small blade in such a practiced fashion the move may have gone unnoticed as he offered the weapon to her, butt first. True she had a walking stick but perhaps a bladed weapon would be preferred.

For a man with one eye, Gavin saw much. He took note on how Salogan had a command of where they were headed, telling him the Komodo was very familiar with the lay of the land. It was also clear he didn't buy into Valencia's story of being a dance instructor. Moments before she admitted she didn't have a clue why Gavin had singled her out to ask for help but that wasn't what struck Gavin as the most interesting part. If she had indeed been a simple dance instructor, she could, nay, she would have turned his offer away no matter how hungry and in need of money she found herself. She chose to answer his call because she herself felt it was a situation she could have handle. It was the intensity of her eyes that drew Gavin in, but her confidence in standing beside them that confirmed for Gavin, she was indeed someone who could look after herself.

Following the same motion of flicking his wrist, a dagger appeared in his other hand and Gavin addressed Sal. "On your move.."
 
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She merely shrugged at the Komodo's reply. There was no harm in that, she could wait. Taking the half-finished sausage from her pocket, she continued with her meal, obediently following her new comrades as they waded through the crowded street in the general direction of The Dredged Lamb. She paid little attention to her surroundings as she savored the delectable meat in her mouth, biting and chewing as slow as she could to prolong the inevitable end of her snack, that she was only made aware of the district they were in by the loud sniggering and catcalling of the working girls and patrons lining the path.

Her ears and cheeks flared red with embarrassment, and she quickly finished off the last of the sausage, he meal now ruined. She darted her eyes about, trying to take her mind off the suggestive imagery she had just unwittingly displayed, shooting daggers at anyone unfortunate enough to make eye contact with her. As she was going through this exercise she became aware of the sound of boots grinding against the pavement and shadows trailing behind their little party. She counted at least four silhouettes, perhaps more; they were making no attempt at hiding their presence, and from the shadows cast it would seem they were closing fast. She heard the two in front of her exchanging words, but she didn't catch any of it.

Above, one of the girls hurriedly left her place by the window; to warn those inside or to alert other ambushers, she did not know. She sincerely hoped it was the former. A chill ran down her spine as she briefly entertained the idea that these assassins were sent not for them, but for her, but she quickly perished the thought. Her enemies would prefer to stab her in the face than have others do it for them, she was sure.

"Beaut who claims to be a dancer... Here." came the voice of her employer, proffering one of his daggers.

"Thank you, but I won't be needing it," she politely declined, gently pushing the weapon away. It would seem they would be making their stand here. She turned back to face the oncoming enemy, kicking the butt of her walking stick up as she took a sideways stance, narrowing her profile. She raised her stick in front of her, wielding it like a sword in one hand while the other pressed firmly into the small of her back. Hopefully they weren't armored.
 
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The idea of this situation frustrated him, though he was careful not to show it. This was a simple matter of investigating a particular individual, entirely unrelated to the matters at hand. Yet here they stood, in a dimly lit alleyway beneath rows of span bridges, being hotly pursued by a number of drunkards. The very same that he would gladly let live if not for their desire to fatally chase after the hastily formed trio. Hairless eyebrows, amidst thought, furrowed as the woman refused accepting the blade from the Captain.

A feint smile formed and he unsheathed the curved blade from the small of his back. The rippling glimmer of the steel cast dancing reflections across the grease laid ground, soaking into the mortar that defined boundaries between one stone and the next. "If you can help it..." He whispered as the drunkards sauntered forward. "Dispatch them non-fatally. This isn't their time."

Bringing the blade to his, his throat inflated as he breathed in deep. With a single guttural assurance, venom pushed out from his lips and smacked against the blade. Retracting the blade from the arc, the venom sprayed out and coated the ground in front of them. There was no fire, not yet. After all, he wasn't referred to as a Frond for compassionate reasons.

"When I give the signal, should we need it...run towards the tavern." He wouldn't want them in it when it ignited.

"Fookin' gizzard splashed vomit all ova ma boots!" The large one screamed through missing teeth. Salogan could almost smell the alcohol across the pathway, cutting through the thick remnants of cooking oil and batter. The men began their initial charge and Salogan knelt down and leaped upwards, clearing the overhead pathways and intending a landing position on the backside of the assailants.

One stopped and watched, with awe, as the Komodo sailed overhead. Maybe it was tactful, but for now it was an outright distraction.
 
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The captain was no stranger to spilling blood, as having such a storied past as he did, one could not be surprised. It was this cue from the Komodo that made him think Sal knew more about his past then he first ventured to guess. As bloody as his hands had been in the past, Gavin knew restraint.

"Won't be fatal... Can't promise it won't hurt though." he said as he flipped the blades with practiced hands and adopted a hold geared towards throwing.

His attention flickered over to Valencia and looking to her walking stick, decided her weapon was better suited for what was asked of them. Giving the severity of their situation, he decided on a firing a quick quip. "Alliria is so fun isn't it."

And then the drunkards were upon them and Gavin couldn't help but take note on how cramped the alley way felt. His gaze shifted, from the thugs and took in the lay of the land, soaking in the most minute of details. The floor itself was greasy so fighting for purchase had to be kept in mind. A particular section appeared to be caked in grime that could be used to an advantage. The walls themselves could be scaled easily thanks to weather bricks creating convenient hand holds. He took note of their rear, the direction they had been heading, clear of danger with enough garbage to be thrown hastily in the way of their pursuers to slow them need be. Lastly, he noted the swell to their numbers. He hadn't counted this many people taking a issue with them in the tavern, meaning the drunkards plucked up some unfortunately souls along the way.

On your move were the words he spoke to Sal, and true to his word, Gavin waited. The Komodo coated his sword in what Gavin guessed to be spittle before before unleashing it before the thugs. Nothing happened, but Gavin had played to many games of Liar's Dice to think this just a bluff of some soft. Sal planned moves ahead and Gavin was able to see that much. The drunkards charged, only to pause in wonder as the Komodo vaulted over their heads. Such was the magnificence of this feat that they watched in wonder forgetting the pair which remained in front of them. On your move, Gavin thought as he fired off his daggers, one after the other. Nothing more then a glint of silver flash as the light danced off their blades before each one buried itself into the forearms of two of their attackers. The reaction was immediately, painful surprised sobs as they dropped their weapons and stared in horror at the blades embedded in the arms. This seemed to awaken some of them men and they continued their charge.

"Let them come to you." Gavin offered his advice to Val as he brought his arms up in a guarded stance. What ever Sal had sprayed the floor with, he had little desire to touch it.
 
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The first assailant that entered striking distance met the greasy, sticky embrace of the ground and darkness long before his comrades had time to react, as Val whipped forward with the speed and ferocity of a viper, striking a knock-out blow on his cranium before returning to her original position and stance, as though she had never moved.

Two more lunged at her and her companion. With almost nonchalant ease, she evaded the careless lunge of the brute coming at her with a graceful pirouette, striking him in the back as he passed her by and redirecting his momentum to guide him through an open window, as a loud crash, screams and pained groans floated out of the building soon after. With perfect timing she spun back, lashing out to catch the other man going for her now unarmed friend, landing a solid hit in the chest, knocking the air out of him as he dropped heavily to the ground, groaning. For the moment, at least, those two were out of the way.


A third stepped forward with caution, eyeing her warily. Despite his inebriated state he still possessed the mental facilities to recognize danger, and the seemingly innocuous little lady in front of him was it. She had just incapacitated three of his mates without taking so much as a step away from her original position, and even as he hesitated he watched yet another of his drink-sodden friends bellow and charge forwards, blade raised to his shoulders as he made an attempt at a powerful horizontal slash to at least force her back or cut down her weapon to size. For his efforts he was met with an almost blindingly fast counter-cut to the head, rupturing his eardrum followed by a vicious thrust below the belt before she finally felled him with a well placed kick to the neck. His sword was kicked over to her companion, where it lay by his feet as she returned yet again to her original stance, all the while never taking her eyes off the rest of her foes. He felt uneasy staring back into those cold olive orbs, as though he and his friends were but mere prey to her, and began to retreat slowly, deciding his chances with the enemy at the back were far more favorable than with the enemies in front of him.


His good sense seemed lost on some of his comrades however, as others still stepped forward to challenge the two. With a frown of disappointment, she prepared to meet the new opponents, making a mental note in the back of her head to get a staff when she next had the coin to spare as it would be a better fit for her if street fights like this were going to be a regular thing in her life again.
 
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His companions had done well and with a certain level of irony, the one pursued had not been at all involved in the scuffle. By the time Salogan had landed, a good deal of the assailants had been properly slapped around either by the beaut who claims to be a dancer or the captain and his deceptive eye. Blood and bruises were the order of the day, delivered as a consequence of inebriation.

Salogan whistled loudly through scarred lips as he smacked his blade across the cobble stone of the towering walls that lined this passage and drainage way. As the men ceased their advancement and turned, stopping their attacks, Salogan retracted a magnesium stick with his free hand and slapped it across the blade of his dagger. The curved metal sang and hissed as it was consumed with flames, the toxic venom of the Komodo taking to fire with surprising ease.

"Another step and the next spark will be a bit more careless..." Golden orbs looked to Val and the Captain, narrowing as he looked back towards the leader of the group. "We...gizzards...have a special capacity for fire." Despite the flames, his expression was cold as he considered the movements of the man. The drunkard was wobbling, his friends were hurt, and they were all precariously placed in a pool of the flammable liquid.

"Dis is fookin' disgustin'..." One of the men uttered, rubbing his head where a bump was forming. "Aye, I dun wunt ta fookin' die..." Another stepped forward, holding his wounded arm where the blades had dug in deep, as he placed his hands on the leaders shoulder.

"You don't have to." Salogan shook his head, an audience was developing in the span bridges overhead. "Just walk away. Go back to your tavern and forget whatever slight you think I, or my new friends, have committed."

He lifted the blade and moving his robe, quickly extinguished the flame with a suffocation. The black fabric steamed and smoked as Salogan knelt and jumped up towards the bridge above. "On the count of five, I hope you'll have the good sense to leave..."

Last thing he wanted to do was be known as the Komodo that burned down Alliria.
 
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By the time Salogan presented his trump card, Valencia had displayed her overwhelming talent with her walking stick and Gavin had proved capable of fighting unarmed, one of the drunkards pressed onto the filthy floor with his arm bent behind his back and held in a awkward wrist lock.

The Komodo showed he could hold their attention and they finally grasped the scope of what he seemed to promise. Fire and pain.

The general consensus was to drop the matter as the trio proved capable and willing but in truth, much like Sal who didn't wish to be known as the Komodo who burned down the city, Gavin had no desire to become known as the ship captain who went on a killing spree. Perhaps the Beaut could had put a spin to this to promote her skills however.

Releasing the man form the hold, Gavin stepped off as one of his mates helped him to his feet. Salogan having said his piece and taking off above, the ship captain looked to Valencia and spoke in a low tone. "Best move on while they're dazed."
 
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She nodded, lowering her stance and stepping away slowly, careful not to let her guard down completely as she waited for the next move. She was wary of what had just transpired, and caught herself eyeing the pavement, careful that her feet were not anywhere near the substance he had spewed earlier. When she felt sure she had retreated a safe distance, she dropped her stance completely, her walking stick tapping against the stone to make doubly sure she was safely away from any ensuing barbecues. Satisfied, all she had to do now was watch and wait.