[The Pig's Foot] Drunken Brawling at it's best [Tuic, Aber]

[Tarelde]

26th Summer, 511 AV, Midday

Tarelde entered the Tavern after getting a job to relax and, hopefully, enjoy the rest of the day without incident. She got some Ale and sat down at a table towards the back. She decided she'd stay their most of the day. By the time the large human she'd been with at the Docks she was very drunk. She had stood up by this point and had been sitting at a stool in the front. The large human bumped into her and said nothing. She immediately grabbed him and spun around enough to see her face. In a drunken, slurred, speech Tarelde said "Hey what's your problem? Learn some manners. Oh, You wanna fight, I won't even use my sword, come on bring it. Stupid big baffoon." After finishing her tirade she jabbed him in the face with a right hook. She then assumed a defensive stance from the, barely any, unarmed combat knowledge she knew.

[Tuic]

Tuic was just making its way to the bar again to get a fresh tankard of ale and continue to try and chase away the memories of his brother when suddenly somebody grabbed him and tried to spin him around. Just turning half around with a scowl on his face ready to tell whoever was holding him to beat it or he would beat him the vaguely familiar woman reared up and socked him in the jaw. “Whats yer damned problem ya petching broad!” Tuic roared out, ignoring the sting of her punch and not noticing that the patrons where quickly making place for the two fighters, already laughing and beginning to jeer at them a few coins being exchanged between some gambling fanatics. When the woman taunted him he glared at her. “yest shut yer trap ya broad.” He slurred out grabbing one of the abandoned stools right besides him and easily lifting it from the ground before throwing the thing at her, that should teach her not to mes with him.

[Tarelde]

26th Summer, 511 AV, Midday

Tarelde dove out of the way but the stool still caught on the side of her thigh. Very incensed now, after landing her dive, she threw a kick at the man's stomach and another aimed at his groin area, she then stood up at threw around a few punches at his head, both left hooks and right hooks and the occasional upper cut. She then picked up an empty, abandoned mug and threw it at the man's head. He was quite large Tarelde realized, Ah no matter she thought to herself. After that she dove onto him trying to tackle him to the ground.

[Aberdon]

Silence was a rare commodity in Sunberth. Even with a pounding headache from the night before, not even fate would show him the respect of a quiet trip to the bar. Honestly, he shouldn't have been there. Alcohol dulls the mind, fills it with fog. He needed none of that, his purpose here calling for far more level headed decisions than spirits would allow him. Still, there was a certain enjoyable freedom of sitting in a place like one belonged. Although short by most human standards, Aberdon was only afforded looks for what he carried and what he was...not who owned him. Never again. He would never again be associated with any name save his own.

Freedom was a right of life.

Slavery itself was the abomination that sought to tell another that they were inferior to another.

Petching shyke.

His gear was tied to him, the strange Isurian crossbow on his back drawing curious looks from the patrons. Although perhaps more concerning was the sharp edged gauntlet on his left arm. It was crafted well, but showed the use of its function. Dried blood crusted the spikes, but Aberdon paid those gawkers no mind.

It was when a man was attacked by the same woman he'd seen in the harbor before that things started to get rowdy. Mizas began passing around as the inevitable broker began taking bets on the winner.

Scowling, Aberdon stood. He shouldn't be here, not a part of this and certainly not wasting time on a few bare beginners pretending to be impressive. Pushing through the crowd, he approached the two.

He chose a poor time, Tuic hurling a chair at the girl just as Aberdon stepped in the middle. The crude projectile caught him in the side, swinging him around to the ground before continuing to hit the girl. He did his best to ride the impact, falling with the item and spinning in an attempt at acrobatics. Instead he simply fell on his face, rage beginning to cloud his sensibilities.

Standing, he first grabbed the back of the girl by her shoulders. Firm hands, one stone the other steel, dug into the Konti's back as Aberdon growled his answer to their own anger. His muscles rippling, straining at her own fevered attempt to continue attacking Tuic, he pulled her back and swung a leg under her, robbing the Konti of her balance. Pivoting, he lowered his shoulder and thrust it into the girl in the direction of the bar table, stepping between both Tuic and Tarelde with a grimace.

"Enough," he growled at Tuic, his yellow hand balling into a fist, "You're proving nothing besides your own intoxication. Sit down or I'll make you regret standing."

There was a moment of hush from the surrounding men and women before a call of new bets went up among them. Encouraged by the violence they called for more of it, for the human to flatten the Isur or the Isur to 'beat the living petch outta him' and other such jeers.

For a moment Aberdon was back in the ring, hearing the bloodthirsty calls for gore and violence. His view became narrowed, darker, almost tunneled at Tuic.

He had the decision to sit.

And five seconds.

Rage was building in the Isur, memories surging against the barriers he'd tried to erect with meditation and patience. His life was an explosive confrontation and Sunberth only gave it life, meaning.

A bad day to be in a bar fight.

Likely for Tuic.

[Tuic]

Tuic was about to brace himself for the woman's attacks and take any opportunity that she would give him to give her a few punches or kicks in kind. But an isur that had suddenly stepped in and wrestled the woman to the ground made that useless. Tuic couldn't help but to laugh at the woman's struggling against the man's grip and took a few unsteady steps closer. “Thats what ye get for attacking a man out of the blue ya petching broad!” Tuic taunted the woman as he was now towering over her. Just ignoring the isur's warning for now, nobody was going to take away these few seconds of cussing out the damn broad. “Espcially against when that guy is trying to enjo....” Tuic felt a bit ill for a few moments and bent over, his stomach suddenly protesting against the amount of alcohol he had consumed and just pushing out everything he had eaten today. Neatly ending up on the head of the woman that the isur had pinned to the ground. Letting out a weak chuckle at that he just grabbed one of the empty chairs and sat his drunk arse down on it. Ignoring the roaring laughter form the crowd around him.

[Tarelde]

26th Summer, 511 AV, Midday

Tarelde smacked her head against a nearby table as she fell to the ground from the Isur's attack. In a daze she rolled over to see who had done it, to see the Isur. For the first time in...ever that she could remember she was geniunely frightened. She knew that fighting an Isur, especially in unarmed combat was a bad idea. They had a reputation for a reason after all, and she knew she couldn't escape quickly enough so she endured the Human's taunts and merely let it be for the time being. That's when the human threw up, the contents of his stomach landing on her chest, and lower body. Strangely none got in her extremely long hair which had decided to bunch up above her head and out of the way of the stomach contents of the human. Shaking off some of it she got up, and unbuttoned her tunic and proceeded to take it off, she after all didn't want to smell like the human stomach, and she took her pants off as well as obviously the human had eaten a lot in the day and it gotten on her from chest down. Her taking her clothes off would be risky since it would reveal her pearlescent scales, but she figured that her swordsmanship could deal with anything like that. She grabbed a chair and sat down and turned her head towards the Human saying "Well, your the damned fool who nearly toppled me at the counter without so much as an apology." She still had her eye on the Isur, and then turning towards him said, "And you...what's an Isurian doing so far out, not that I mind I have great respect for your people but it's curious as to why you're out here." Finishing her sentence she sat back, figured she sober some, and hoped that not too many were gawking at her.

[Aberdon]

Aberdon sighed, relaxing his muscles. The fight seemed to be over, much to the disappointment of the crowd. After a moment he realized he recognized the woman, a Konti named Tarelde...he'd seen her last night after the brawl, she'd followed to the camp. It was strange how such recent events escaped him. Now that he thought about it...this fellow was there to. One of the aggressors maybe?

It was irrelevant.

He let her up, her already shedding the dirtied clothes. Hoots and whistles came from the observers, but they were already turning back to their tables. Aberdon took a seat between them at the bar, eying the distance between the two.

"You're both impulsive fools and he's drunk." the Isur said shortly, ignoring Tarelde's observation "But at least you know when to stop your squabbling."

Taking his mug he drained the last of it, placing it on the bar. "Can you not go a single night without causing trouble?"




oooc: Sorry ya'll...couldn't think of much to talk about.

[Tuic]

Tuic scowled at the short man when he called him an impulsive fool. “Just talk for yerself little man. Tis broad was the one who began looking for trouble.” He ignored the whistles from the crowd and didn't pay any attention to the disrobing woman as soon as he noticed she had scales and gills. If he wanted to screw a fish he would just go to the harbor and steal a real one, lot less hassle and probably cheaper to. When he heard the woman complaining about getting not getting an appology he couldn't help bursting out in laughter. “Well ye are either stupid or don't know shit about the city of sunberth. Which makes ya a moron for not getting any information. We ain't some kind of order loving shale spined vagiks like those syliran bastards. If somebody decides to hit ya in the face ya ain't getting any appology unless ya force it outa the person.” He stopped chuckeling and glared at the strange fish woman. “So ya either suck it up or I'm gonna find out if ya can still breathe with my axe buried in your troath.”

[Tarelde]

Tarelde turned to the Isur and spoke.

"Impulsive? Yes. A fool? No."

She then turned to the Human.

"As for you, it has nothing to do with order so much as mere manners, which obviously you humans lack. As for your threat, it's only that. A threat, just like all humans, you talk a lot but don't act. And even if you did, my sword would be in your gut before your axe even came close to my throat."

Tarelde would not be intimidated by an idiotic human who thought his axe and axe skills were worth anything.

[Aberdon]

Aberdon sighed, leaning against he bar as he watched the two continue to argue. Both of them were being impulsive, the same sort of hap-chance violence they exhibited yesterday night at the docks. Neither was backing down, both crass to the point of impetuousness. He knew their types, sure, the brash and confident Tuic and the whore with iron nerves. Both were played again and again in streets like these.

To step in would be pointless.

"Apologize, the both of you," the Isur snapped, irritable he was playing wet nurse to these kinds of people, "Do so and go home. Otherwise I'll make you."

A quiet ripple of expectation shivered through the bar, people turning their heads in hopes the violence had not yet ended...that there was still a chance for carnage in the evening. The bartender put aside the mug he was polishing and moved a bottle of cheap wine off the bar, too used to seeing what happens when glass is left around brawlers.

"Well?" He asked the two of them, stony eyes pivoting between both, "Fight or flight, make up your minds."


OOC- If ya'll want to start a bar fight, feel free.