[Mature] In Ilaren's name, Drinks are on me!

Fridgar is buying drinks tonight, Join in for a good time!

The capital city of the of Rynmere, here is seated the only King in Idalos.
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[Mature] In Ilaren's name, Drinks are on me!

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87th Zi'da 716
"And that's when I said 'And what she says goes!' " He yelled with a slur, an uproar of laughter shook the tavern as he knocked back another shot of whiskey from where he stood, atop a table, one foot on the table and one on the chair behind him. A Biqaj called out from where she was sitting "You sure hate the Aukari then, right?" while wiping joyous tears from her eyes. "Yeah! Fuck those fiery pricks!" he roared, the crowd cheered, raising their drinks of choice before knocking them back in unison with Fridgar. A voice spoke under it's breath from the crowd "Fucking Ilaren worshipers..." Half of the people there stopped their drinking and looked about in confusion

Fridgar finished off the tankard before throwing it at one of the men sat near the back of the crowd - it clunked the unsuspecting man on the side of the head and knocked him from his seat. ”What the fuck did you call me, punk!?" The man climbed from the floor, wobbly and sad looking "I didn't even say anything..." he spoke, genuinely. "Oh.. my bad." he spoke less boisterous with a twinge of sorrow, earning a chuckle from the crowd. "This guy said it!" called out a human sat near the exit, gripping some kid by the wrist, he looked to be about eighteen - luckily for him. Fridgar leapt from the table, landing on the wooden floor with an echoing bang and walked forward, snorting furiously as he reddened with anger, the people looked about unsure, should they stop him?

He gripped the boy by the back of his shirt and dragged him back into the tavern, he was clearly too scared to struggle. "What did you call me, big man?" he asked, bending down to look him in the eyes. The boy merely stuttered, no words escaped his mouth. "Relax, I'm not gonna hurt you. Just say it again, please." he spoke, standing upright and giving the boy some space, the crowd of people breathed a sigh of relief from behind him. The boy swallowed 'An... Uh... Ilaren worshiper...' he spoke quietly and with shame, stage fright? Or just afraid of offending the drunk Lothar. "And who's Ilaren? An Immortal? Do I look like the type of guy who's gonna suck off some high and mighty prick for power?" He asked, his tone and features calm. The people behind him chuckled nervously - the atmosphere was tense. 'N-no, Ilaren's actually female..' he spoke, stuttering a little. Fridgar raised an eyebrow "Okay, okay. even so, what makes you think I'm gonna get bossed around by some Immortal?" he asked, crossing his arms.

"What does she even do?" he asked, sounding more interested than angry now. 'Well, her domains are lightning, sound, brawling and alcohol.. Oh, and she hates Faldrun.' the boy spoke, a little more comfortable in the bear-man's presence now. Fridgar raised both eyebrows, impressed. "Not bad, sounds like an immortal I could get behind." He spoke, scratching his beard. 'Wait really? Well, if you want to get her attention, try praying to her. Also, she likes it when you buy other people drinks...' The boy spoke, pushing his luck a little by clearing his throat as if to suggest something. "Fuck it, why not?" He shrugged, the people behind him looking about with awe, as if they were thinking 'is this guy for real?'. He put his hands together and shut his eyes 'Err, Ilaren, right? if you're listening, you might wanna watch this - it's gonna be sick.' he spoke in his head before opening his eyes to the crowd.

"Brewdude!" he called out, when nobody answered, he turned to the bar and whispered "that's you by the way" to the bartender. The bartender looked to him with surprise and spoke 'Uhh... Yes, Fridgar?' Fridgar grinned, taking a handful of gold nels from his pocket "In the name of Ilaren, Drinks are on me tonight!" he roared, slamming the gold on the bar with gusto. Everyone went quiet for a moment with disbelief before erupting into a massive cheer, half of Andaris had probably heard it. He turned to the boy, who looked awful proud of himself "You too, kid. if you're old enough to drink that is." He spoke. The boy looked to him, hurt 'Dude, I'm 26 arcs old.' Fridgar's jaw dropped. The only reason he hadn’t beat his face in because he thought he was young!
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Whenever one finds oneself inclined to bitterness, it is a sign of emotional failure.
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[Mature] In Ilaren's name, Drinks are on me!

t had been a long day but Sin hadn't felt like going home yet. He had been trying to read up on a bunch of things, trying to find a solution for Genush. The powerful owl had been fine when he had left home at the beginning of the season. Lili had promised to look after him and Sin was sure that none of it was her fault. Even so, he had been upset at the older woman for Genush current state. What was upsetting him even more than the fact that the old owl was eating less and seemed to be in some sort of depressed slump was the fact that he couldn't find any solution to the problem. In an attempt to raise his spirits, Sin had tried a change of venue but that had only backfired.

He had figured that a change of scenery would help him to focus and work his way through the library book he had borrowed. Some bird watcher's guide on Rynmerian birds. The fact that the man thought all the birds in this book were Rynmerian was enough reason not to read it but none of the better looking books had had a solution for it. While the title had been a little pretentious, Sin had been surprised by some of the contents. Most of it was quite informed and the images were quite detailed in some cases. If you managed to overlook the fact that the writer considered each bird in it to be majestic because it came from Rynmere it actually had good information in it.

Sin had sat himself down at a table in the bar and had been leafing through the book when the waitress had come to take his order. Not wanting to addle his mind when he needed to study, Sin ordered some fruit juice. His studying only got so far, though, as the loud, boisterous talking of a group of people near the bar itself was growing louder and louder. At first, Sin had managed to ignore the noise but the longer they went on the louder they became. At one point, one guy stepped up on a chair and placed one foot on the table, exclaiming the big reveal of his story. Not having listened before, Sin didn't understand what everyone was laughing about when he said it.

As it was mostly his own fault for thinking a bar in the evening would be a good place to study or learn, Sin couldn't really ask them to tone it down a little. The fact that they were outnumbering him by quite a lot also helped to make a decision. Picking up his book and cloak, Sin dropped some coins on the table as payment for the drink, readying to get out. He barely got to the door when someone yelled something about the young man next to him. The bearded guy who had been standing with one foot on the table rushed over, almost knocking Sin over. Sin expected a brawl to start right in front of him but instead the bearded man and the young one started a conversation, well sort of, right in front of Sin, in between him and the door.

He was about to push his way past the two when the young one said something that caught his attention. Did this cheeky little guy just try to tell the bearded one to buy everyone a drink? You really think something like that wo-... Sin's mouth almost dropped in surprise when the bearded guy went with it. He had expected a punch, at least, and a full on brawl right then, with him in the middle of it all. Surprised and a little curious to see how far the cheeky one could get with his words, Sin remained standing near the door, book in hand, cloak over his shoulders. It took less than a bit for the bearded one to treat the entire bar to drinks for the evening. Sometimes chaos comes just from a few words, right Father? Some people are just meant to be used.

The amusement of the young man's manipulation kept Sin in the bar. If the bearded guy wanted to pay, who was Sin to refuse his offer. Free drinks always went well with a meal. Pulling his cloak back from his shoulders, Sin walked back to his table and claimed his coins back. He hung his cloak over the seat and put the book down on the edge of the table, near the wall, and walked over to the bar where the bearded man was standing. "I'll have two fruit juices, on this man's expense, apparently, and whatever you've got for dinner tonight, on my own expense." The bartender turned from the bearded guy to him and nodded. As he filled two cups of juice, he introduced Sin to the dinner. "Tonight is chicken stew with potatoes and carrots. I'll go warm some up for you." The bartender put the cups in front of him and left to the back, where Sin assumed the kitchen was.

Turning to the bearded man, Sin raised one of his cups. "Cheers. I hope Ilaren blesses your generosity tonight." He smiled a big smile, empty white eyes focused on the bearded man, before taking a sip from his juice.
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Last edited by Sintih on Fri Jan 27, 2017 9:54 pm, edited 1 time in total. word count: 927
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[Mature] In Ilaren's name, Drinks are on me!

Tristan entered the tavern. No, he didn’t just enter it, he strutted into it with his head held high, like a proud and arrogant noble lord that expected everybody to admire him or better yet fall to their knees in front of him and kiss his feet. He even stopped in the doorway for a moment, waiting for the patrons to notice him, as if he couldn’t do anything without attracting attention. As he walked over to the bar, he raised a hand as if he were a king greeting his subjects, and then he abruptly slid into a chair and laughed out loud.

“Was I any good?” he asked. “I’m practicing for a new role. I’ve decided that I’m not only going to write plays, I’m also going to star in them from now on!” Unfortunately, he realized, nobody was paying any attention to him pretending to be a king or admiring his fine burgundy leather jacket that had cost more than some people earned in a month. All eyes were on that big man, the Lothar. He had almost bought one of them once to fight and hopefully not die for him in the pits. He pouted. What was so interesting about him? He looked like he had some sort of growth disorder and he was hairier than a bear!

He was about to force the patrons to pay attention to him by doing something ridiculous and at least mildly inappropriate when he heard the Lothar say a name that he was only too familiar with. Ilaren. For some reason he thought she was a man which amused him to no end. Ilaren was the least masculine person he knew!

“You would be surprised by what kind of guys suck off high and mighty pricks for power!” he informed him. “I could tell you a few stories about what the noble lords and ladies of Rynmere do when nobody’s watching. The bartender’s name is Rufus by the way, not Brewdude. You’d better be polite to him if you don’t want him to stick a knife into you. He was a mighty pirate in his youth!”

He was about to say something else, something that might possibly earn him a punch (or two or three) when Fridgar roared that he would buy free drinks for everybody. He smiled all over his face as he heard that and decided that he would forgive Fridgar for stealing his place in the spotlight – this once. “A glass of Venora Rose please!” he called out to the bartender. Once his drink had been delivered, he raised the glass in a toast and exclaimed, “To Ilaren, the greatest of all Immortals!”

“Do you know that I actually met her – more than once?”
he asked Fridgar and took a large gulp. “She’s hot!” Actually she was more than hot. She was his secret – or not so secret – immortal crush and the one woman in Idalos that might possibly be Faith’s match.

It was just then that Sintih ordered fruit juice. Tristan frowned and turned to face him for a moment. “Why are you drinking juice?” he wanted to know. “Ilaren is the Immortal of Alcohol, not the Immortal of Fruit Juice! You should drink wine or beer!”
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[Mature] In Ilaren's name, Drinks are on me!

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Where was it Fridgar had said he'd gone again? As a matter of fact, why? What in Lissira's name did he want to go out in to Andaris for, let alone to a tavern at night? He confused her, a lot actually. One moment he would come home and stay there, lying in bed all battered and injured, and the next it seemed he was out drinking and having a good time. To say he was a little different to her old companion, Denebah, was an understatement. But it was a relieving change. She shook her head, wanting to forget that name sooner rather than later.
After some time, she found herself outside the tavern. How did she know? Because his voice was hard to miss, and the laughs were loud and obnoxious as they echoed through the otherwise quiet town. It was disgusting. Booming voices, laughter, the vile smell of alcohol from the tavern and sick from all the alleyways around it. It was putrid - and Fridgar would love it.

Rey entered the tavern, hesitant. Most of the shouting had died down, it seemed, but Fridgar was buying everyone drinks. Where did he get all that gold from? So he was rich as well? Maybe he had a secret business she knew nothing about, or perhaps he just stole from people a lot and never invited her. Either way, she would ask him about it later. But first, she could go for a drink. If she was going to tolerate the people here, being sober was the wrong way to go about it.
She made her way through to the bar, dressed in her new silk dress. She still hadn't forgiven herself for ruining her old dress, but this one would do nicely. It might even be nicer. It was both elegant and playful, meaning that she would turn heads, said the kind woman that sold it to her. Alongside it and her black heels, she had the perfect outfit. One leg on display, the woman told her, would have all of Andaris envious of her and whoever her man was. When asked, she told the woman that a Lotharro was 'her man'. She didn't really know what it meant, but she made the assumption that Fridgar was the closest to it.

"If drinks are on him, a bottle of Vodka - your strongest, please" she requested. It had been a long time since she'd last been here, and hoped she wasn't recognized. From how the bartender looked at her, she was alright, he didn't give her any strange looks. Instead he just smiled politely, his eyes wandering up and down her. She took no notice.
Rey then turned her head to look around the bar. Was that Sintih? She hoped she could catch up with him tonight. Between her and Sintih, however, was a man telling him he should drink wine. From how he acted, he seemed rather drunk himself. Rey stepped forward.
"There's no need" she told both. "I just ordered enough Vodka, once Sintih has enjoyed his juice perhaps me and him can share it?" she offered, smiling at Sintih. She then smiled politely to Tristan and bowed her head. "Rey'na, by the way. If you would also enjoy any vodka, bring yourself over later on."

She gave a reassuring nod to Sintih. "Excuse me a moment, I will be back in just a minute" she told the two, before turning to the bar. As she went to grab her vodka and glass, a hand slid the vodka away. Rey looked unamused to the hand, seeing a tall Biqaj man with a cocky smile. She suddenly felt relieved she had her dagger. Her hand went to the slit on the side of her dress, just behind it was her dagger. She was ready.
"What's a delicate thing like you drinking a strong drink like this?" he asked, chuckling quietly to himself. She smiled politely at him, using her free hand to slide the bottle back over to herself. He kept his grip, till she tugged firmly. She pulled the bottle towards her, before opening it and pouring herself a glass. She didn't answer the man. His hand went to her wrist.
"I was talking to you" he said. Fortunately for her, he grabbed the wrong wrist. Rey pulled away, drawing her dagger and slashing at his hand that held her. The cut didn't go very deep, but it was enough for the man to cry out and let go as his wrist bled. She stepped back, tense and ready.
"Get your filthy hands off of me!"
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[Mature] In Ilaren's name, Drinks are on me!

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With a heavy yawn, Fridgar turned his attention back to the bartender. "Piratedude, Another!" He demanded, slamming his fist on the desk. The bartender groaned, seemingly done with Fridgar's shit "Well, where's your tankard, Boss man?" He asked with a smirk. The Lothar's eyes widened, looking to his empty hand with shock 'Shit, where did you put it?' He looked about the floor around him, failing to find it. The brute Lothar had forgotten that he'd thrown it at someone trills prior to this, he looked to the bartender with saddened eyes, dropping his shoulders into a sulk. The bartender rolled his eyes, "Alright, alright. I'm only messing with ya - here, don't 'lose' this one." he spoke, sliding a full tankard into the clawed paws of the giant Lothar. He looked up from his sulk with light in his eyes before swiftly downing the whole thing "Another!" He spoke, slamming the tankard on the bar.

Fridgar looked to his left, meeting eyes with the blue-skinned man and jumping a little. The sight of his eyes, or lack thereof, had spooked the bear-man. After a trill or two, he nodded firmly "May this booze continue to warm you through the next season, bluedude." He spoke with a slur, barely able to hold still and raising another half-glass of whiskey, knocking it back and coughing a little. He hadn't noticed that the man had been drinking fruit juice, which was probably for the best. He looked to the human that had been reciting a play or something as he entered, a very clear haze about him. He nodded, wiping the booze from his beard into his leather jacket sleeve and greeted him, "Your majesty." with a bow of his head. 'Damn, you're savage!' rang his inner voice. Regardless of the guy's goofy entrance, he raised his tankard with the man's glass of wine, toasting the Immortal "To Ilaren!".

"Wait, you have?" he asked, turning his attention to the human "Nah, I call bull shit." declared the Lothar, shaking his head. "...Do you... think she'd notice all us mortals drinking in her name?" he asked, quieting his tone down a little so that other wouldn't hear him as he maintained eye contact with the human. He thoughtless scratched into the bar with the claw of his index finger "’Cus goddamn, that was the last of my nel... A meeting with the party god would be awesome!" He spoke, knocking back his tankard to find it was empty. He held it upside down, giving it a shake before handing it over to the bartender for a refill.

The shimmer of a dress to his right caught his eye, he turned his head appropriately and met eyes with a woman. 'Not just any woman, that's Rey! Quick, act natural!' he leaned into the bar, resting his elbows as she approached. To his surprise, she had a bottle of Vodka. 'Rey drinks?' He shrugged, scratching at the necklace of bone and beads that hung around his neck - it probably stood out on his leather outfit, but couldn't be helped, he might need it this night should someone need to lose a limb or three. His gaze remained on Rey'na for a moment, then to the citizens he'd bought drinks for, a dozen or so? How many of them would leave in one piece tonight? He pondered, a sinister look in his eye.

He shook his head, giving the beautiful Rey'na a smile and a nod. 'Chill out. Let's have a night without bloodshed for once.' easier said than done for him, apparently. More people came into the building, carrying a variety of instruments. He raised an eyebrow, had the cheer of people drawn in a band of musicians? They set up in the corner of the tavern, exchanging notes before playing some up-beat, smile-inducing music. Rey walked off after having talked with the two at his left. He sighed, he would have liked some vodka, too. With a shrug, he looked to the human "So tell me more about this Immortal? I might just make this a regular thing in her name." He asked, drinking half of his newly-filled tankard and smiling patiently to the human.

He'd been keeping an eye on Rey as the man spoke, it came as no surprise that a male had approached her when she was wearing something like that dress. But of course, Rey had no interest in the man, the look on her face told him that much, he just hoped the Biqaj would get the point. Unfortunately, it appeared yet another one of his nights out were going to end bloody. The man had been dull enough to grip her wrist, he'd anticipated that much - what he hadn't anticipated was for Rey to pull a knife on the man, let alone cut his wrist. "Hold that thought." He slurred, interrupting whatever the human was saying before getting up and approaching the two as Rey'na scalded the man. "What's going on here?" he asked calmly. "Fridgar! My man, I was just getting friendly with her and she cut me!" the Biqaj explained. Fridgar crossed his arms and nodded in understanding, stealthily assuming his fighting stance with one foot back. "You'd best fuck off, buddy. I don't think you're her type." The aggression in his tone betrayed his seemingly passive body language.

"W-what? You can't be serious. Fridgar! This whore fucking cu-!" he snapped, striking the guy in the side of the head with a shoddy right hook. The Biqaj fell to the floor and immediately crawled up onto his forearms. The musicians stopped at the sight of the disturbance. He rolled his wrist, there was an obvious discomfort and stinging pain about it, he must've sprained it. 'That's what you get for punching people while drunk, dumbass.' reminded his voice in his head. he rolled his shoulders and leaned over, gripping the Biqaj by the back of his shirt and dragging him across the wooden floor for the exit, ignoring the startled looks of the people who'd previously been drinking merrily. With his heavy boot, he kicked the door open and threw the Biqaj to the frozen streets, swinging him back to build up a momentum prior. He spat before slamming the door shut and looking about the room with a furrowed brow.

The dozen people he'd been entertaining prior stood in silence before the 26 arc-old from before threw his fist in the air and cheered "Hooray for Fridgar!" and with it, the others cheered. The music started up once more as everyone went back to their drinks. With a grunt, he walked back over to Rey'na and sat at her side. "You're not a whore." he growled, half baring his fangs. "We can leave if you'd like." he offered, looking about the other people at the bar warily, did anyone else want to catch a knuckle sandwich? They were on him, just as the drinks were.
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Whenever one finds oneself inclined to bitterness, it is a sign of emotional failure.
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[Mature] In Ilaren's name, Drinks are on me!

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Had Fridgar not intervened, Rey would have drove the man through for calling her a 'whore'. She found herself shaking, her eyes piercing as she scanned the room. Her hand gripped the dagger tight as she looked to the man, watching as a fist hit his face and he dropped. She snapped out of it, looking down to her wrist. A little graze from how tight his grip had been, but that was it. Fortunately, none of the blood had ruined her new dress. She would have killed him for that.
Her eyes followed as he was dragged across the room by the brutal Lothar, her face blank. But her eyes betrayed her. She was on the verge, willing to lash out in a moments notice. Her eyes showed it, anyone that looked would notice. She cleaned her knife, then put it back in it's sheath before Fridgar walked over. She took a drink of the Vodka, straight.
"No, I won't let a man like that ruin my night. If it wouldn't obviously have been me, I'd go out there and kill him myself, but thank you for handling that" she said to him. She started pouring herself another drink - she was smart when thinking she'd need this. Hearing Fridgar snarl was hurting her, she hated it.

Rey placed her hand on Fridgar's, not looking at him. Her eyes dropped, but she kept her hand in place. She was gentle, she saw how his hand had hit and knew it wasn't good. Her eyes seemed to refuse to move, despite her head telling her to look at him. Instead, she just kept her hand in place.
"I'm sorry, Fridgar. You got hurt, because of me. It was never my intention to hurt you" she said with a frown. This was one of the first times she'd have been emotional in front of him. She wished it had stayed that way. Despite her sadness, however, no tears left her. Instead she just kept her head low, focusing on the table for a few trills.

After those trills were up, she sat herself straight. Her eyes fell to Sintih and Tristan. "If either of you would like those drinks, the offer is still there" she said, sliding the bottle to them both. Her eyes fell to Fridgar for the first time. "Same for you."
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[Mature] In Ilaren's name, Drinks are on me!

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Yana was not pleased at all with how this trial had turned out. Not only was she dead tired due to the training in the morning, midtrial, and afternoon, but sometime during the latter, one of her superiors had informed her –none too kindly –that she was to replace one or other knight on the night patrol in lowtown. As if just a regular night patrol was not bad enough in and of itself, it had to be the lowtown patrol too. The Yludih wasn’t too sure why she had been picked out of all possible people. Maybe because her commander hated her, maybe because she had more experience than most squires due to her prolonged stay as one? She didn’t know, nor did she really care. It was only a bother.

The night was still young and there had already been complaints and situations to take care of. Too much noise here, a neighbor hearing a husband clobbering his wife there. Some poor drunk bloke getting robbed, stabbed, beaten to pulp, or all of the above. No rape yet, but that might just take a bit longer. Perhaps when they had advanced well into the morning? It was simply baffling what kind of shithole lowtown was, and what kind of shit job patrolling that area at night turned out to be. The reason for the escalated crime ratio here was quite obvious from the start. The knight that she’d been partnered with had shut down his peripheral vision, deciding not to see anything that did not happen right in front of him. He was also deaf to anything that did not sound “too bad”, or things that were not reported to him by civilians. In other words, he ignored most of it, and it did not help matters at all. A stricter policy here might work some wonders, Yana thought.

Each pub they passed was a rowdy one, but as long as there was no fight going on, no patron or waitress calling for aid, there was no need for Yana and the Knight, Rutger, to intervene. Or so he said. Yana wasn’t really complaining. She was tired. She had to keep this shift up for two more breaks until she was relieved. She did not give a fuck about other people’s problems. She wanted her bed and Uleuda. But she also needed to keep up something of an act, so she did weakly resist and question whenever Rutger decided they would ignore yet another problem unfolding in an alleyway. He probably knew as well as she did that she wasn’t really resisting from the bottom of her heart. He’d been like her once too, he’d said, but after a while he’d realized that a single rock resisting the stream was not going to alter its course. Or its flow. So eventually he’d just given up. Grown apathic. Become one with the river and its current. Perhaps if Yana had truly been an idealist she’d have found that thought highly disturbing and frightening.

“Ooooooi!” A man called in the distance, a running form quickly closing in. Rutger whipped his head around, hoping to find an alley they could escape through, but found only walls. He sighed, mentally preparing himself as the man stopped in front of them.

He was a Biqaj, standing taller than Yana’s Eídisi form, and was covered in bruises. It looked as if someone had dragged his face over the floor or something. One of his wrists was bleeding, though the cut did seem to be not all that serious.
“That filthy whore cut me!” he exclaimed, panting and holding his wrist for them to see. “Woman, I mean!” he amended. “In the Blacksmith Arms.”
Rutger let out a long breath, scratching the stubble on his chin.
“Okay. And what did you do?”
The man huffed. “Nothing! I was just making a move on this chick, right, and she just pulls a bloody knife on me! Cuts me without even a warning!”
Rutger nodded, Yana just stood there stoically.
“Then this Lotharro chap, Fridgar, comes to me to ask what’s going on, yea? I am like ‘Yo man! This bitch just cut me for no reason!’ And you know what? He just gets real pissed, punches me in the face and throws me outside!” During his story, the man’s voice had been rising steadily, anger apparent.

“Okay,” Rutger said calmly, eyes weary. “And what do you want us to do?”
The Biqaj threw his hands up in frustration. “I don’t fucking know! Your jobs maybe! Arrest them both or so!”
Rutger sighed, giving Yana a sideways glance. Yana sighed too, but gave him a nod. “Let’s just get this over with,” her expression said.
“Alright sir,” Rutger gave in, “we’ll go verify your claim. Please come with us to identify the culprits.”

***
“You go in,” the knight semi-ordered Yana, “call if you need me.”
If his words had not been enough to display his reluctance to do anything at all, his face and body language would have. Yana wasn’t too willing either. Even from almost a block away they’d been able to hear the ruckus inside, and the windows allowed for a peek of the party going on inside, which did not promise an easy time. Rowdy drunks were the worst kind of drunks, especially if they started puking everywhere.
“Follow me,” she commanded the Biqaj, who had a smug grin on his face now.

The false Eídisi pushed open the door, hard, deciding that she’d need to force these drunks to listen to her. Reason wouldn’t serve her here. She stepped inside, in a waft of cold and fresh air, her face having been touched by slight annoyance. It was a sign she was not in the mood to argue with anyone this time around. “Alright which ones?” the Yludih demanded of the Biqaj, who gladly pointed out a woman in a silk dress, and a hairy hulk of a man.

“You two, over here, please.” she called out to them, her voice conveying a no-nonsense kind of tone. “Do you two have names?” she paused for a moment to allow them to answer, then continued. “I have a claim of assault here. As it stands, I believe we are facing a fifty nel fine and a night in the dungeon for you, miss, and a twenty nel fine and a night in the dungeon for you, sir.” She paused to let it sink in, noticing from the corner of her eye that the Biqaj was grinning in triumph. “Unless you feel no need to defend yourselves against this man’s claim, I would like to hear your side of the story. Obviously I will speak with witnesses as well, so I advise you to tell the truth.”
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"Speaking" - Thinking - "Others speaking"
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Tristan Venora
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[Mature] In Ilaren's name, Drinks are on me!

And then a woman entered the tavern and ordered a whole bottle of vodka, and Tristan just stared at her. She was quite pretty and what more she had glowing eyes! He absolutely loved glowing eyes. Kylar had glowing eyes. He had said that they had been given to him by Karem. He wondered if the woman was a Blessed of Karem as well. With her silk dress she didn’t exactly look like a hunter, but maybe she didn’t hunt animals, but something – or somebody – else?

He smiled at her and moved a little closer to her. “I’m Tristan”, he introduced himself. If he hadn’t been so obsessed with Ilaren and if Fridgar hadn’t just asked him something in that very moment, he would very likely have said more. But as it was he turned to face the beast man and replied in a very matter-of-fact tone, “Yes, I have. In this very tavern. We talked a lot, and then we got drunk and did a number of other fun things together. And before that I met her in Ne’haer where we fought the shadow beasts together.”

“Mortals drink in her name all the time”,
he proceeded to inform him. “But if you drink in her name often enough, she might notice you. She likes a good party – and a brawl. Did you know that she’s also the Immortal of Brawling?” He said that with a look of utter amazement in his eyes. A woman that loved brawling was a rare occurrence. His former slave, Faith, had some skill in unarmed combat, but he had yet to see her participate in a good, old bar brawl.

The beast man seemed a little nervous all of a sudden, he noticed. Apparently he fancied the woman with the glowing eyes who had just turned to the bar. He looked at Fridgar, and then he looked at Rey’na who was just being molested by a drunkard. He was about to intervene, but fortunately she seemed to be able to handle herself. Besides, the beast man was already rushing to her aid. So instead of stupidly playing the part of the hero, Tristan leaned back in his chair, watched and let himself be entertained.

As Fridgar struck the drunkard and dragged him to the exit, Tristan just couldn’t control himself anymore. He laughed out loud and clapped his hands because it was just so very exciting! He was just about to turn back to Fridgar and tell him more about his secret Immortal crush when a guard arrived.

As the Eidisi began to spout some sort of nonsense about a night in the dungeon for Rey’na and Fridgar he rolled his eyes because it all sounded completely ridiculous to him – although he had always wondered what the dungeon was like and if they had any pretty female guards there.

“You should arrest that guy instead”, he informed Yana even though she hadn’t asked him for his opinion and pointed at the Biqaj. “He molested her, she defended herself, and the hairy guy helped her. At least that’s what it looked like to me. And when you have arrested the man, you could come back and join us. There’s free drinks for everybody. Even people like you need some time off every once in a while!”
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[Mature] In Ilaren's name, Drinks are on me!

in was hardly surprised when the ever eloquent bearded man decided to name him bluedude, much in the same vein as the bartender was brewdude and now piratedude. In a short span of time after giving his thanks to the bearded man, people seemed to swarm into the bar. While most of them were just people, a few of them stood out. The first one sent a shiver of dislike up Sin's crystal spine as he watched the man stride in like he owed the place and the city it was built in. The fact that he introduced himself as some sort of actor type only did so little to ease Sin's dislike of the man. Maybe he had some sort of sixth sense for it but he knew that there was something off about the man. Perhaps it was simply his burgundy jacket or the superior air he seemed to carry around.

Before the man could really get into his stories about noble pricks, pirate bartenders and hot immortals, what did that even mean, all eyes seemed to shift towards the door, Sin's included. For a moment, the place seemed to hold its breath as conversations and laughing died down just a little. In the first trill, he didn't recognize her, despite her similar style of clothing from the last time they had met. There had been some forty trials of war and another thirty or so recovery between then and now. When she walked closer to the bar her eyes drew him in and Sin knew exactly who she was. What was Rey'na doing here? This wasn't a place for people like her. Then again, he knew next to nothing about her apart from the fact that her season had started off with a bad break with that guy.

He couldn't help the slight drop of his jaw as she ordered a bottle of vodka, seemingly planning on finishing it on her own. His attention was drawn away from her by the actor who questioned his right to drink juice instead of joining them in their revelry of their immortal. Maybe I don't want to end up an idiot like you. His harsh thoughts were hidden behind a soft smile. As he was about to answer, Rey'na stepped in and helped diffuse the situation. He wouldn't partake in any of her alcohol but the fact that she offered flattered him. It seemed like their one shared evening had left as big an impact on her as it had on him.

Then, in barely a bit of time, the relatively relaxed situation turned sour. Some guy thinking he was worthy stepped up to Rey'na and tried to do whatever he was trying to do and got cut for it. Sin's image of Rey'na seemed to shift by the bit this trial. From a delicate, higher born flower to a sharp, thorned rose. He couldn't say that he disliked it although he found her reaction over the top. What was he supposed to do in a situation like this? Obviously as a squire, he couldn't let something like this go. It was an obvious violation of four or five different laws right there but on the other hand he wasn't on duty either. Before things could get further out of hand for Rey'na, the Lothar stepped up to take over the fight from her by punching the man in the face and dragging him out with little to no ceremony.

As soon as the Lothar started dragging the man off, Sin stepped up to Rey'na. "Rey'na." He spoke softly, making sure to call her attention to him first before placing his hand on the one holding the dagger. When she turned to face him, he could see it quite clearly. There was something in her eyes, something hard, something keen on finishing what had just started. As the Biqaj flew out the door, Sin knew what was about to go down next. Even in lowtown, knights and guards were present, so they'd be here in the next ten to twenty bits. If the Lothar had kept his fight in the bar, things would have gone different but this, this would draw attention. When she finished putting the dagger back under her dress, Sin made sure she was looking him straight in the eyes. "Give me the dagger and sheath, quick. Trust me." There was something in the tone of his voice that seemed to expect her to follow his orders.

He waited for her to comply, holding his hand out, insisting with as much body language as he could muster up. When she finally did, he quickly tucked the sheathed weapon into his belt, behind his back. When he looked up from putting the weapon away, he saw Rey'na and Fridgar share a moment. While he'd been trying to help her not a trill ago all he felt then was disappointment. Had she not learned anything from that previous guy? What was his name again? It seemed she'd moved on from her shady, violin father figure friend to this brawling, hairy and half drunk friend. There was little time for him to dislike the hairy man as the door of the bar swung open once more and a squire of the Iron Hand, dressed in full gear walked back in followed by a smug looking Biqaj holding his wrist. A little later than expected but there none the less.

He knew the procedures just as well as the next squire so when the hairy man and Rey'na were called forward, he stood up as well. Quite often in situations like these, especially in lowtown, people figured they had to defend their friends even when they weren't guilty of anything. With how the hairy man had been spending his money this evening, Sin was pretty sure that a bunch of people here thought of him as their best friend right about now. Rey'na's dagger would suffice for a weapon if need be. As he looked at the squire, Sin was surprised to find a familiar face. He'd not seen her for about as many trials as Rey'na but he recognized her immediately. Saeri LaChasse.

The trumped up actor quickly took the role of defender of friends, as Sin had predicted. Luckily the man didn't see the need to physically defend his friends. It was an interesting turn of events to have someone actually talk in defense of someone else in this place. But whatever speck of respect Sin was about to gain for the man went out the window as he invited an on duty soldier to join them for drinks. He was pretty sure there was a reason for arrest in the law somewhere for that. In an attempt to put some more weight behind the man's words, for they were exactly what Sin would have said, he positioned himself behind the actor, making sure Saeri would spot him if she decided to look at the man.

If she made eye contact with him, he'd nod towards her, respectfully, but then smiled a big smile in her direction. While they had only met twice so far, Sin hoped that he'd made enough of an impact on her before and that his position as a fellow squire put some weight behind his position and opinion in her eyes. He wouldn't hold it against her if she didn't remember the drinks they'd shared together but that they stopped an assassination plot on the king together should have left some sort of an impact on her.
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Varthakh
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[Mature] In Ilaren's name, Drinks are on me!

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"The immortal of brawling, huh?" He asked, a little wobbly. He yawned, stretching his jaw and baring his fangs "I could use some more brawling in my life, you know?" he drank some more from his tankard. That was an absolute lie, he couldn't go two trials without punching someone, he'd been long since due to punch someone this trial in fact.

Sat at Rey's side, he buried the lower half of his head into his arms while assessing the threat about them. Without warning, she took hold of his hand - she'd only ever pet him before? What had brought this on? He looked to her confused. "Rey, you didn't hurt me?" he spoke, thinking for a moment - why had she thought she'd hurt him? Oh right, his wrist. He shrugged, taking his head from the table "For starters, It's not your fault I punched him - I was bound to start something sooner or later, I'm just sorry that he got as far as he did." He scorned. He might have to find the Biqaj and hurt him on a later trial - who did he think he was? "Second of all, what do you think it feels like when I use this thing? A sprained wrist isn't much, I'm okay - honest." he put his claw to his bone necklace for emphasis.

He then realised what was going on - the vodka had hit, she must be a sad drinker. "I think it's time to go, you’re not okay." he spoke after she'd offered the others some vodka. Seeing her sad wasn't all that nice, he looked to her with pleading eyes. Then the door opened, a city guard of some kind stood there with the Biqaj he'd thrown out. 'That's what mercy gets you, dude. Knock him out next time.' He took note before she demanded that they approach. He put his hand to Rey's and brushed along the back of it to comfort her - he'd handle this. Standing up, he let go of her hand and stirred the ether within him, building up the preparation to an Unleash, he began to shake and sweat a little as the ether quickened. 'Wait a second dude, you're just gonna kill her? You'll have to kill all the others too, or you're a wanted man.' As he'd taken note, Mercy wasn't a good look on him.

He approached the guard with Rey at his side, ferocity in his eyes. Her words were barely audible as he sped up his ether, the grizzly bear totem called to him as he focused his being on the creature’s essences. 'Wait wait wait! Listen!' demanded the voice in his head and for a trill he shifted his ferocious gaze from the guard to the human that seemed to be besties with Ilaren, diplomacy? That wouldn't work, surely. Then spoke the man that had tricked him into buying drinks for the night "Yeah! That prick got way too touchy with that bird! He's a rapist!" he called out from the crowd, the dozen others that he'd entertained for that evening all spoke for him - defending them? He looked to his claw that rest inches from his totem necklace and stopped the churning of his ether, letting it ease to a halt - his shaking and sweating stopped and he breathed a sigh of relief.

"Need I say more?" he asked the guard, wiping some sweat from his brow. He looked to the biqaj, smiling with his eyes. The Biqaj was furious, reddening at the skin and baring his teeth "No! That's not what happened! Stop lying!" he roared before throwing a punch into Fridgar's gut. Green lights flashed in his head as he reflexively leaned over with the blow. The dumbass had just gone and assaulted him in front of a city guard and given him the go ahead to let loose. Looking up at the Biqaj from his lowered position, he saw him raise his fist for another punch - one had been enough. He gripped the Biqaj by the shirt fast as lightning, taking the second punch to his ribs before charging him to the wall and pressing the blade of his fore-arm into his throat, cutting off his air supply.

As much as he might struggle, he wasn't much of a match for the Lothar's weight or strength and so he remained there. If no one pulled him from the Biqaj, he'd press until he went limp unconscious then release.
Last edited by Varthakh on Tue Feb 07, 2017 5:56 pm, edited 2 times in total. word count: 783
Whenever one finds oneself inclined to bitterness, it is a sign of emotional failure.
-- Bertrand Russell
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