[Pig's Foot] Drink In One Hand, Girl In The Other (Haesmar)

[Ustengrav]

Ustengrav believed he now had the better of his young opponent as they soon crashed to the dirty wooden floor. The first thing he felt was the same knee that had caused the winding blow, dig into his tender abdominal region, he felt the pressure build up again in his body, causing his breathing to become heavier and more desperate. Not being able to breathe properly would eventually lead to the quickening of fatigue of the muscles and body, this would be dangerous. The second thing Ustengrav felt was another quick but softer blow to the face, now being aware of his opponents still fight spirit, Ustengrav anticipated the following other quick jab and moved his head to the side evading the blow. What came next however was not foreseen. The young combatant wrapped his arms around Ustengrav's neck, something someone sober should have seen coming. He was now in a very dangerous position, if he didn't think of a way to loosing the grip around his neck, he would soon run out of oxygen and fall into unconsciousness. He could soon smell the sweat that had formulated under the younglings arm, it smelt musky and damp as it had soaked into the blue dye cotton shirt. Trying to break free of the tight hold, Ustengrav pushed and pulled at the youngling, he soon felt the rough, stitchy material between his fingers as he desperately tried to break free. Ustengrav's eyes began to darken and the pressure around his neck began to increased, he was loosing and he knew it. He needed to do something quickly. In a last attempt, Ustengrav raised one of his hands, in an effort to grab something to use to break free. To his disbelief his hand encircled an empty metal flagon and a renewed sense of vigour and defiance erupted through him and with it came down the flagon, first a large thump knocked on the wood as he missed the first time, a curse screamed in his mind as he struggled to lift the flagon again due to the lack of air. Once again he took the flagon down with all the strength he had left, desperately hoping he had struck home.

[Lornak]

He'd locked him in a headlock planning to choke the air out of him, but all he got for his troubles was a blow to the head from some kind of metal object. He was lucky his opponent was so tired or it could've done some real damage. Instead it made him break his hold around the man's neck, loosening his grip totally & leaving him staring off into the ceiling for a few second. He could smell the stale ale on the man's breath, taste the coppery blood from his eye, & now to top it off he had a large throbbing pain on his head, which he assumed had split on impact. The vision on his damaged eye was getting worse & worse, although it was bleeding, the swelling was rising and making it hard to see. His face was slick with sweat, at some point in the fight his ponytail had been undone & his shoulder length hair now sat tangled and twisted just past his shoulders. He could feel his hand starting to stiffen & the knuckles swell. Although strong & physical he wasn't use to fighting like this. His body was feeling the effects earlier than most people would've. The blow to head seemed to have jerked him back into reality, lying on the ground of the filthy tavern, blood on his face & head. "What would my bastard of a Father think of me now?"He though grudgingly to himself. A sudden tiredness settled over him & he struggled not to succumb to it. To lay here unconscious would leave his opponent free to take his gold, or even kill him. He had no idea what this man who seemed to have bested him was capable of. The fight had gone out of Haesmar, he was done.

[Ustengrav]

Ustengrav felt that the metal flagon had connected on the younglings head causing his grip to completely loosen. Darting upwards in a last effort to gain some breath. Huge inhales and huge exhales came from Ustengrav's mouth, he could feel the warm air from the tavern flow down his through his throat and fill his lungs, it felt like an age since he had taken these deep breaths, he now appreciated how vital oxygen was, especially if he was engaged in a fight, a fight with an opponent who was young and headstrong. He'd make sure not to mistake any man as a female any time soon, next time he mightn't be so lucky to end with just a few bruises and bumps. He soon realised that his opponent was had very little in the ways of stamina and was recovering still on the filthy floor, however instead of using this opportunity to bash his adversaries face in, he sat down at the nearest table, still panting heavily. He needed to stop this, his way of partying would be the death of him and he was a getting older and older by the day, his stamina and strength had decreased with age. A younger Ustengrav would of been able to break him over and over but alas he was not young, he had just past his thirty sixth birthday a few weeks ago, soon enough he wouldn't be able to recover from the beatings that he endured most nights. Sitting on a broken, chipped seat, Ustengrav noticed that the fight with all its sweat and adrenaline had caused him to sober up slightly and he could think clearer, although the feeling of an upset stomach soon broke his concentration. Ustengrav then noticed three, one skinny, one fat and one well built, one had the pointed face of a weasel, the other had the flat face of a pig and the well built man was covered in scars. "A real motley crew" he thought to himself. The kind of scum that he had seen in this city time and time again. The three men slowly and sly-fully walked and bent over the youngling still recovering on the floor. Ustengrav could seen the exchange of hands, he presumed that they seen an opportunity to make a bit of coin without any trouble. They lacked honour, if anything it was his prize to the spoils of a defeated foe but he wasn't in the fight to steal from a downed foe, he was in the fight for his drunken stupidity and mistaken seduction. Picking up the same metal flagon that he had used to break free from the impossibly tight grip of the young fighter, he followed the men that quickly excited the building, still keeping in mind that the alcohol as well as the knocks slightly wobbled his legs. "Now lads!" Ustengrav's voice was his usual distinctive tone. The three turned their heads and looked towards the grizzled warrior. "Thats not very fair. A downed opponent and you swoop in like vultures to steal whatever your filthy hands touched." His voice was deep and firm, he then cocked back his hand and launched the metal flagon towards the three. "Now I suggest you dishonorable bastards give back what isn't yours. That is.. unless you would prefer to have your legs snapped in two!". What was he thinking?! He had just came out of one fight, now he was starting another. He did not have the strength to deal with them all even though they were relatively small and not as well defined as is last opponent. If he was going to get whatever they stole back, he'd need help.

[Lornak]

His breathing was shallow & his vision was swimming. He waited on the floor expecting to see a large shape looming over him to finish him off, but it never came, instead three men came over him, he couldn't make out their features but they certainly weren't large fellows. He felt them rummaging around his body. It took him a few seconds to click on to what was happening. They were stealing his coin while he was incapacitated. "Bastards!" Hasemar though to himself. How could he have been so stupid to get himself in this situation, if he didn't get that coin back how on earth could he start his life off in this city? He sat up slowly, & looked around, no one was paying him any attention any more & he was able to prop himself up on the bar to clear his head a bit. He made his decision there & then to go after the robbers. He'd get his gold back or die trying. He'd been bested once tonight but that was against a larger, more experienced opponent. Three disgusting rats who had to steal from a downed man couldn't be anything special. He glanced over to the table where the gamblers were now totally drunk, this would've been the perfect time to earn himself some coin. I'll kill those bastards for stealing what I've got & for the coin I would've had. He left the tavern expecting a long search, careful not to slip on the blood that had dripped onto the floor. His search was far shorter than expected. He stepped outside to see the man he'd been fighting with, easily recognisable by his size & distinct look, fighting with the three men that he assumed had mugged him. He surveyed the scene in front of him for a moment, the man he'd been fighting with seemed like at full strength he'd have the best of them, but he wasn't. One of the men had drawn a small dagger from his waist & was attempting to circle the drunk man. Haesmar acted. He took his longsword out from it's holder in his cloak & shouted to gain the muggers attention. "Three versus one? Almost as honourable as stealing from a downed man. How about we even these odds you cunts?" He'd heard his father use the word multiple times when in one of his towering rages, but it was the first time Haesmar had used it himself. He started forward, the man with the dagger came out to meet him. He was a slender man, dirty with the face of a weasel, this was a fight he could win. He knew how to use a sword, admittedly only through practice with sticks, but he was confident he could beat such a small opponent armed with only a dagger. The man circled with a sneer, he darted in with the dagger, aiming for Haesmars left side. Haesmar pulled his blade across & deflected the blow with the flat of his longsword, following the deflection with a back handed slash which sliced into Weasel-faces breast, leaving a red stain darkening down his already dirty clothes. The man grimaced in pain and took a step back, Haesmar stepped forward & hit him in the face with his left hand, shattering the Weasels nose. He'd won this fight, he knew it, the man was too small & weak to take a beating & fight back, Weasel was the type of man use to slitting stronger men's throats in the night, not fighting them face to face with an inferior weapon. Haesmer feinted another punch, but instead of landing it, he waited till Weasel-face had taken his arms up to block the blow, and stepped forward heavily with the heel of his foot smashing into the man's kneecap. There was a satisfying crack which signalled the man's leg was broken, possibly useless from now on. He went down holding his useless leg, shrieking from the pain searing through him. Haesmar started forward to see how his, for the time, ally was fairing against the two rats he'd been fighting.

[Ustengrav]

Ustengrav noticed out the corner of his eye, that the youngling had joined them outside, he was weary though, he did not want the young warrior to start another scuffle, believing that bearded veteran had stole the coin that belonged to him, especially now that he gained the attention of the three thieves. If his previous opponent had decided that he was the thief, then he presumed that the three thugs would play along. Four on one would be folly, no matter how strong and skilled he though he was. Ustengrav, however soon gave a quick sigh of relief as he saw the youngling descend on the weasel faced wretch. Although the bastard pulled out a dirty and blunt dagger, Ustengrav's hopes resurfaced as the weasel was quickly and skilfully incapacitated. His attention soon returned to the two other men. "So.. little piglet, you've seen your sneaky, rat faced friend cast down relatively easy. Are you now going to give back the coin or do you need to be made even uglier like that sorry son of a bitch standing next to you?" Ustengrav gave a cheeky smile showing the side of his teeth. This was soon cut short however by a twisted feeling in his stomach, the sensation got stronger and stronger until an eruption of bile and unprocessed ale exploded from his mouth. A large pool of sick formed in front of him. A disgusting sight to be sure if he was in a more civilised city, but this was Sunberth, hundreds of more villainous acts were committed here daily so he wasn't going to let a little upset stomach make him feel guilty. Wiping the sick from his beard and holding his belly, he tried to compose himself from vomitting again. He was soon startled however as the pig faced man unsheathed a short sword that was very much needed of repair. The brigand quickly grinned showing off his stained yellow teeth, obviously pleased at the opportunity that had arisen. Raising his rust speckled blade, the thug charged forward intent of cutting Ustengrav in half. This is were another stroke of luck came. As the pig faced thug ran onto the edge of the pool of sick that covered the ground infront of the grizzled warrior, he lost his footing and slipped, falling backwards and cracking his head on the hard ground, a groan emerged from his mouth as he began to get up . His arrogance at trying to take advantage of the situation had not paid off, now it was time for Ustengrav to use this time wisely. Carefully but quickly walking up to the downed thug making sure not to make the same mistake of his adversary, Ustengrav cocked back his leg and let loose a powerful kick, unfortunately for Pig Face, this was aimed directly towards his privates. A shriek of pain filled the air as Ustengrav's boot connected with the thugs delicates. This would hopefully keep him down for at least a while so Ustengrav could deal with his heavy scarred and dangerous looking associate. "Now that I've just crushed your lovers balls, I do hope you aren't too upset!" A slight chuckle came from Ustengrav's mouth. He wasn't ready yet to unsling his axe from his back, he was quite comfortable throwing a few taunts around first.

[Lornak]

Haesmars nose was assaulted with the stench of vomit as he moved closer to the three men. He heard the man he'd been fighting in the tavern throw around some insults, his confidence was incredible. Haesmar had always been confident in his strength, but he only talked through anger in a fight, never through arrogance. He approached slowly, sizing up the situation, the large man had taken down one of the muggers, a larger man, muscular around his arms but with a large pot belly. A pig face and a pot belly would've given some men an almost comical appearance, but this animal was far from it. His muscular arms had scars in varies places, and a large tattoo covered most of his left forearm. Haesmar decided to leave his ally for now, and go for a scarred man. A large nose & scarred features made the man gruesome to look at. A large chunk was missing from his chin, it looked as though he'd had a disagreement with a rather sharp axe. Taking a note from the older man's book he decided a taunt might raise his spirits & hopefully scare the scarred man slightly. "No matter how much coin you steal, a face like that would turn away even the most experienced whore." It wasn't the greatest insult, but it felt good to act confident, it made him appear fearless. The scarred man had taken out a sword of his own, it looked well kept, that worried Haesmar more than he'd let show. A well kept sword either meant he'd killed someone recently, or more than likely, he was a half-skilled warrior. The way he handled it hinted at the latter. His enemy moved in quickly, testing Haesmars reflexes. He did this a few times until suddenly he struck in with a blow to the right side, Haesmar clumsily blocked the blow, losing his footing slightly. His opponent attacked again quickly, arcing the blade forward towards Haesmars face, again he drew the blade up just in time. This man was far more skilled than he was. Haesmar was being pushed back steadily, until he ended up on his back, he kicked out, but the scarred man simply laughed. Eventually a blow landed, a slice on the right bicep, it caused Haesmars hand to numb & drop his sword. The man smiled smugly. Desperate thoughts climbed through Haesmars mind. Yielding would do nothing, not in this city of chaos & lawlessness. It'd be easier to kill him than risk him coming back for revenge. His right arm lay uselessly at his side, he backed up on the ground, pulling himself back with his left arm, when he slowly felt a wet lumpy pile of vomit. If he hadn't spotted it on his way to the fight he might never of suspected what it was, but he knew straight away. He felt nauseous at the thought. "I'm going to die in a shit city, killed by muggers, covered in some oafs vomit." He acted half without thought. His body seemed to act out of reaction, he grabbed as large a handful of the vomit as he could and threw it directly into the scarred mans eyes. The man cursed & tried to wipe the vomit out of his eyes. Haesmar pushed himself up quickly, his right arm still flapping uselessly & tackled the man to the ground with his left. The man went down easily, "he might be more skilful with a sword," thought Haesmar coldly, "but I'll shatter his skull with my bare hands. The man landed heavily under Haesmar, his sword flying out of his hand Haesmars temper had exploded when he'd launched himself towards the man. He wasted no time, as soon as he regained his awareness he landed a headbutt right into the mans nose. He pulled himself up & mounted the man , sitting on his ribs. His left arm wasn't as powerful as his right, but he still knew how to hit. He thundered blow after blow into the mans skull. By the time the red haze ascended from his vision the mans face was a bloody pulp, he was unrecognisable. Haesmar reached into the mans pockets & found his coin purse. Along with 6 other gold coins. It wasn't much, probably not nearly as much as he'd made in the tavern, but it was something. He rose slowly turning to see what had happened to the large warrior.

[Ustengrav]

Ustengrav's flaming stomach began to subside, the sickly feeling that germinated around his bowels had disappeared, the only thing left was the uncomfortable irritation that the gastric juices had left after passing up through his throat. He didn't mind though, the main problem of the three men was sorted, they were beaten by a drunk and a young boy, he knew this because after watching the youngling retaliate after being cut across the chest by tackling the other thug to the ground, it was followed up with countless blows to the face. He had obviously gotten arrogant after he managed to disarm the young fighter. A mistake he had seen again and again in all his years of brawling. Ustengrav turned his attention back to the miserable state that was moaning on the ground, clenching the back of his head and cupping his privates. What a pitiful sight he now witnessed. Ugly and fat, the pig faced man stank of a countless days worth of body odour, the putrid smell lightly stung his nostrils. Sweat poured from every orifice of his fat wrapped body, only enhancing the stench, making it stronger. "Well Mr Pig Shit.. Looks like this is where your night ends." Ustengrav cheekily smiled, this was contradicted by his voice taking a deeper and more distinctive tone than it had already been. He wanted his fat foe to recognise him and remember his voice because this mostly wouldn't be the end of grudge between the two. If he wanted seconds, all he would have to do is open his ears. Gurgling up a thick mucus from his throat, Ustengrav walked up to the pig mans face. Forming his mouth into a circle shape, with a powerful burst, Ustengrav spat the glob directly into the ugly flat nosed face. He followed up the disgusting display of superiority and power by taking down his foot with force. A Sickening crunch occurred under Ustengrav's leather boot, he could hear the shattered teeth and breaking of the nose as he lifted up his leg, the resulting cosmetic change did nothing to complement the pig mans already grotesque features. It would take him a while to recover from such damaging blow, if he survived that is. Giving a sigh of relief that this for now was over, Ustengrav took a deep breath. Picking up the same metal flagon that had been used to bash the younglings face. Walking over to the young fighter that now was recovering from his sudden bust of rage, Ustengrav nodded at him and handed him the metal mug. "You should of done that to me, would of saved yourself from that flagon!" Ustengrav laughed and winked at the young man. Turning his back and walking towards the tavern again, Ustengrav then shouted back to his now presumed ally. "You handled yourself pretty well! You even managed to slow me down and thats saying something! I could use someone to watch my back, I doubt that these bastards will give up after tonight!". Clambering his way through the tavern entrance. He once again shouted to the bartender "A pint of your finest ale and keep em coming!" Time to get hammered. Again!

[Lornak]

The older man had injured the Pig faced man grievously, but he didn't seem to care. He approached Haesmar, steadier on his feet now than he'd been all night. "You should of done that to me, would of saved yourself from that flagon!" He laughed gesturing towards the bloody pulp of a man left on the ground. Haesmar didn't know what to say, he was still recovering from the fights. The Older man winked & started walking away, he turned a few metres away from the tavern door & shouted "You handled yourself pretty well! You even managed to slow me down and thats saying something! I could use someone to watch my back, I doubt that these bastards will give up after tonight!" Haesmar felt a small surge of pride. His body was aching all over, the flow of blood from his eye had slowed but he'd need to get it seen to sometime soon before the wound became infected. His arm throbbed in pain from the slice to his bicep, but he supposed that was a good sign, at least he could feel it. His knuckles were cut & swollen, he wasn't sure how much of the blood on his hands was his, and how much was the, now dead, scar faced mans. The throbbing in his head was subsiding a bit, he gingerly touched the wound & found only a small amount of blood. That was a relief. He contemplated what the man had said. There were worse things he could do than make friends with an experienced fighter, especially one who was a better fighter than himself. He could possibly learn a thing or two, maybe make a few connections and get himself some work. The man seemed warm, although he'd been brawling with him not long before, there was something about the other man. The way he smiled & winked, it wasn't fake or forced, it was a genuine gesture. Haesmar rarely encountered this. He walked towards the tavern, casually walking past the two broken men as if they weren't even there. He wouldn't waste any more time on those rodents. He heard the older man shouting vivaciously to the barman for more ale. He smiled despite himself. "I could do worse" he smirked to himself. He stepped into the tavern & took up a seat next to the drunk, greeting him with a pat on the shoulder. "I'm Haesmar." He informed the man as he sat down, hoping he'd be welcomed as a friend rather than foe.

[Ustengrav]

END.

[Fallacy]

XP Award! Name:Ustengrav XP Award: +3 Drinking +1 Seduction +1 Rhetoric +3 Brawling Lore: The Pig's Foot Tavern Getting Hammered Time for a Woman Mistaking a Guy for a Girl Getting into a Bar Fight Trash Talking Notes: Ustengrav, please subtract the price of 12 flagons of ale from your ledger. PM with questions or concerns. Name:Haesmar XP Award: +1 Observation +1 Intimidation +1 Interrogation +1 Longsword +2 Brawling Lore: The Pig's Foot Tavern Easy Money Getting Mistaken for a Girl Getting into a Bar Fight Trash Talking Notes: Any questions or concerns about the rewards gained please send a PM