Closed [The Kelp Bar] Kelp Bar Shindig (Fallon)

[Kreig Messer]

Fall 8th, 515 A.V. 18th Bell.

To say Kreig had a habit of getting into slight trouble occasionally was to say Syna and Lheth are constantly following the other around; a gross understatement. In Kreig’s defense, what troubles he does get himself into is mostly unintentional or brought upon by his sense of morality. After all, could he be blamed that Yukmen were yukking about and he was of the few to be capable of doing something about? Or could he be blamed for crashing into a door because there was no warning for a slippery floor?

Unfortunately, this bit of trouble was in fact his fault and he was keenly aware of it as he rested against a flipped over table, arms resting on his knees lazily as he looked to the ceiling with a bit of a pondering look and noting a mug of beer flying over his head as in impromptu projectile “ What a waste of good beer” He mumbled to no one in particular. Now how did this all start? Ah yes, he was bored and boredom can be the source of many an ill-fated idea, a point emphasized by a poor dullard who had his nipples twisted right in front of Kreig by a particularly vicious 5 foot man who then promptly kneed the petcher in the groin before being ambushed by a rather hairy man…..at least he thought it was a man.

Now this particular idea of Kreig that started this whole mess was actually pertaining an ancient and once dormant habit of his back in Sunberth; trying to start a brawl without getting caught. Admittedly, such a habit rarely succeeded but when it did it was a sight to behold, not to say getting caught was a downside for Kreig due to his bloodlust but it did mean he was rarely the spectator. It all started simply enough, Kreig was sitting at the bar counter surrounded by a few gents at his side with tables occupied by seedy and tired looking gents of all sort whom seemed to be on a short fuse of sorts. Kreig didn’t know what had them so riled, probably some city politics or just a particularly tiring day for the Zeltivans.

In the end it didn’t quite matter as a rough looking gent was about to pass by behind him and Yahal forbid Kreig was bored enough to mess with him as he extended a foot out not so subtly and caused the bastard to trip. The result was explosive to say the least as the gent grabbed the guy next to Kreig and slammed him a new one, only for that man’s friend returning the favor and it just escalated from there…..

Honestly Kreig didn’t expect to be ignored throughout all this but once the party began he simply moved to a different spot and watched it all unfold, not to say he didn’t bump a few heads along the way….

So to sum it all up, he tripped one of the patrons, the patron mistook the culprit for the gent next to Kreig and from there it all somehow escalated into a brawl he quite intentionally meant to start yet not really meant to get away with.

Funny how some hours begin. With his thoughts out of the way, he lifted himself from his spot and cracked his knuckles, a corner of his lips twitching up in amusement.....

He had enough of bein' the spectator!



x

[Fallon]

Fallon had returned to her current haunt of stalking, the Kelp Bar. A hive of sailors and gossips readily available to her as rumour and information sources. She had taken to the bar at her more preferred spot, ears twitching, eyes staring down into the bottom of her tumbler. Half full, the dark interior glinting in the light, the sound of scuffling catching her attention. Her orbs merely flickered over her shoulder briefly, narrowing as she tried to work the shapes into her peripheral vision - nothing near her at present. Sighing, she looked back down into the contents of her drink catching the sound of disappointment of the barkeep, "Honestly, seems like the only thing people do here of late. Smash the joint up. Petching Hai."

There was a flinch from both when a tankard smashed against the bar side wall, a sheepish glance from both tender and patron before an exchange of orbs. She spied the look of annoyance upon his face, the creasing of his brow and his lips pursing to that of disappointment. It was at this time that she took a proper look round, hand braced against the bar as she observed the scuffle between what appeared to be a group of a few sailors - dirty skinned, lank hair, and scruffy appearances. All itching to start a brawl and prove themselves superior to the other. Such was the way of men who had too much time on their hands. With a sigh, she watched as the patrons took to their squabbling fists starting up to their punches. Shouting came next, the scene unravelling as one blamed the other and the attacks took to the immediate audience there. Creasing her brow she shook her head once more, lifting her drink to her lips.

Not that she had the chance to taste it.

A hand had grasped her by the shoulder, a firm jerk back from her stool sending her sprawling backwards. The drink was dropped from her grasp, her eyes watching the tumbler bounce across the bar surface as the larger hand whipped her round to face a toothy grinned sailor. Fingers entangled into the fabric of her coat, her other eyes darting to the fist that was recoiling back. Choices; what could she do in this short amount of time? He had closed the gap quickly so she needed to make space for movement from the close grab on her coat. Her eyes flickered down briefly to the open buttons of it, the mind spurring into action. She hit the deck, ripping her arm out of the sleeve and her other one following shortly after. The fist flew above, the rest of her quickly recoiling back up - bent double while the current thug simply swung at air. Arms out she slammed herself into his gut, arms wrapping tightly around his waist as she focused on only pushing him back and toppling over something while he was off guard.

This was not how she expected to spend her evening.

[Kreig Messer]

Meanwhile, one of the dirty skinned, lank hair, and scruffy looking gents, also known as Kreig, was enjoying himself quite nicely in the brawl. He hadn’t had such fun in a while, in fact he felt quite the exhilaration as he headbutted one of the lads on the nose after the ruffian tried to sucker punch him, ah but Kreig was no sucker to be punched and had caught the fist in time to deliver the righteous justice of headbutting.

Unfortunately, after that Kreig had indeed become a sucker as some daft fool struck the back of his head with a tankard, cracking the wooden thing and spilling left over kelp on him thus not only giving the Brawler a bit of a concussion but also giving his hair an unsightly odor. He spun around and struck his assailant with a right hook to the ribs, feeling satisfied that his boxing lessons was not in waste, then grabbed the gent by the hair on his head and slamming the side of it against a wall to give him a concussion twice Kreig’s own and then let him drop dazedly to the ground.

“ That’ll teach him to make my head feel ….hurty” He got out, a bit in a daze himself but he soon shook it off and looked to find himself looking at a very familiar face, a lass he’d met years ago and who’d been a friend to him, a girl whom used to have this pet wolf puppy that was just the dickens and grew up quick. A girl whom he felt he owed something and of course felt guilty about incidents that were beyond his control and was never his fault to begin with. A girl whom left his life…..

….And here she was hugging this weird ugly guy for some reason, it was a very active hug too though the guy seemed to be annoyed by it ‘Must not be big on public affection’ Not that he could blame the guy, in a tavern filled with tough guys that was a strike against his toughness credibility….

‘Waaait, no it’s not a hug. Guy’s swinging his arms like he’s trying to hit something ” And it was more like the girl was pushing the guy away as she warpped her arms around his waist. That means they were in a scuffle…

A friend of his was in a scuffle against an ugly bastard, an ugly bastard was picking a fight against a friend he vowed to protect…. A vow he’d never been able to uphold. He was trying to hurt her! Kreig’s daze seemed to clear up instantly as a bubbling rage built itself up inside him while his face remained an impassive mask. He began stomping his way over to the bar counter, navigating around the chaos he lit a fuse to. Two gents grappling each other stood in his path so he wrapped the palms of his hand around their faces and forecefully pushed them apart and continued, slowing briefly only to step over another man who was busy emptying the contents of his stomach through his mouth.

Finally he was there to the grappling duo of his friend and big ugly, the latter still waving his arms about wildly only to stop once one of his limbs was caught by Kreig’s hand “ Excuse me friend, you be havin’ a problem with this girl here?” He asked icily, his other hand curled into a fist ready to deliver a punch regardless.

Then maybe buy a beer to calm down or nurse another headache.
x

[Fallon]

The gripping thudding of meaty hands pressed and struck against her exposed back. Her shoulders continued to square, the rest of her pushing forward and against the brute. Arms pulled back, a twist into an awkward barge as she felt him give back into the table behind. And then it was little more than a stale mate, the man caught rocking on his heels, the continuous notion of uneasy feet as she felt the muscles strain. Somewhere at her back she heard a distinct voice slice through it all, but she was far too concerned with the struggle before her to contemplate it truly. Fingers knotted into her collar, an insistent tugging as she felt the brute attempt to rip her away. Her voice gave a grunt, "Petching, son of a bit-"

The body she was grappling staggered back into the table, flat onto the surface as she crashed down after it. Had he lost his footing somehow? She did not dally on the thought, peeling away and back as she raised the fist and haphazardly struck at his face. Her gaze did not move away at first, yet there she spied one of the hands being held back, her knuckles crashing into the soft cheek of the brute's face. She saw the eyes glower back, infuriated as he struggled against whom ever held him and firmly pushed her back with the other, free hand.

She swayed, staggering and stumbling as she attempted to find her feet. Soles pressed to the ground, toes tripping and snagging on each other and various furnishings. Her ankle found her coat that had been previously discarded, a stoop down as her eyes flickered to the one whom was standing there, fist recoiled back at the thug and ready to strike. A moment of pause, a blink as she gathered her bearings and the face, her jaw sagging as she took in the familiar face in.

"Kreig?" crept out the voice, a distinct tone of confusion hanging there. Her eyes moved to the thug she had been attending to as he brought himself struggling back up from the table and attempted to tug his arm free from its holder. She threw the coat over her shoulders, a mad tug of it back on as she kept a wary glance of her surroundings. Faces, heads, who was doing what, where was the next attacker? She could smell the distinct scent of bile and kelp beer mixed together, another crack of flesh against fists, the crash of tankards and glass bottles. Her gaze snapped back to Kreig, something catching her attention out the corner of her vision, "Fancy seeing you he- And DUCK!"

Her arms cupped around her head as she bent over, hearing the distinct smashing sound of a bottle as it crashed into one of the nearby tables. Sheepishly she looked back up to the man, her hand peeling out to give him the thumbs up to him. Gradually standing straighter she let the same right gingerly reach down to the collection of tools on her belt and then to the strapped kukri, her eyes narrowing down as she attempted to mentally work a way out of the scenario. She could see a couple of heads turn to the pair of them, a click and roll as the attention focused upon new targets, "As I was saying... Fancy. Seeing. You. Here. Uh... Tourist?" She swallowed, bringing herself up to her full height, fists coiling up into balls, "Up for some fun?"