Solo Soup is good food

[Daegron]

Fall 50th, 514AV
early afternoon

Challenge.
The Soup House was unusually empty. Of course, it was way past lunch time and too early for dinner, so only few of the patrons were present. Daegron walked in the main hall casually, his feet carrying his stout figure with a certain pride. The occasional glances fell on him, but nothing that could incite any suspicion. After all, this was a place for the less financially fortunate, and no one would care to make a fuss about his unkempt appearance.

Starving already, he stopped in front of the blackboard that listed the day's available dishes. Any one or better, any two would do, so he walked over to the counter, payed his silver miza, grabbed a couple of bowls and filled them up. He chose a table not far from where he stood and took a seat, ready to sate his hunger.

Call it a gut feeling or chalk it up to his usual wariness or paranoia, but his green eyes scanned the room around him looking for anything out of the ordinary. A mere moment before the spoon touched his lips, he saw him. A middle aged man, mostly wiry with a bit of a beer-belly, brown hair lined with grey streaks, and lively blue eyes was sitting at a table next to him. He was looking at him, perhaps sizing him up. An eyebrow was raised by the man and he looked down at his almost empty bowl, huffing slightly. Naturally, Daegron thought it strange and took a good sip from his spoon while eyeing the man. "A quiet meal, is it too much to ask ?" he muttered to himself and decided to try and ignore. The carrot soup was delicious, and warm enough to take away the first Autumn chills. There was a strong aftertaste owed to some kind of spice that he couldn't quite place. The smile that appeared on his lips didn't last long though. Daegron's gaze fell on the curious old man again, who was blatantly staring. Used to eye contact, his gaze locked on those blue eyes trying to read any ill intentions. It was a calculating stare, and the expression gave off some kind of derision and interest.

"What are you looking at ?" He finally grunted, clearly annoyed.

A wicked grin appeared on the man's face, subtly taunting and as he leaned forward on the table, a tatto was revealed on his forearm. It reminded Daegron of the Zeltivan sailors, and he assumed that this old man was a sea dog once.

"Eh" said the man. "Too many crooks..." he shook his head in contempt "...they spoil the broth". An annoyingly high pitched chuckle escaped him.

"Mind your own business." Daegron responded, trying to keep himself as civil and calm as possible. He knew that he wouldn't be able to pull that trick for long. Patience was definitely not his virtue.

"There's no business to be had with them scum..." croaked the sailor, and that derision was now evident on his curious gaze. Daegron thought he caught a glimpse of playfulness on the man's eyes, but didn't quite care. It was evident, that this old-timer was desperately looking for trouble. He'd soon have it.

"I've better things to do than listen to your senile ramblings, old man.." The Morpher responded and his fuse burned shorter with each passing tick. It was a good thing that no patrons were in listening distance.

"Better things to do ? I hear there are no sewers in Ravok."
""Pike off now, back to your stinking plank you call a boat."
"The fish monster dines on your kind ? Or did we forget to pray for your demise ?"
"You better stop..."
"Or what ? More of you will crawl out of the monster's ass ?"
"That does it, petcher !" Daegron growled loudly, attracting unnecessary attention and finally stood up, determined that his meal was not meant to be enjoyed. His brow was furrowed into an angry mask and his face was red.
"Yes, "the sailor agreed with a sly sneer, "let's take this outside, shall we ?" and pointed towards the door. "No need to make a mess here, the alley on the back is where the garbage is disposed." His gaze showed an unusual eagerness for a fight, as if he needed it, as if he craved it. The Morpher was more than happy to oblige...

[Daegron]

Rivalry
As they walked outside, Daegron couldn't help but wonder what could motivate this guy to pick up a random fight with him. The notion that something was wrong was not just his usual paranoia, but a very distinct possibility. But he was never one to shun away any test of mettle. His immense pride was driving him; the harder things were, the stronger he'd emerge. As he followed the old man down the alley, he noticed the way he moved. It was strangely familiar and slightly disturbing. This old fellow carried himself the same way Daegron did; his walk was almost the same, his talk was very much the same.

"So this is me in twenty years ?" he thought and instantly dismissed it. He'd make something better of himself than a lousy petcher.

They turned around the corner into a dead-end filled with old abandoned furniture. They probably served as firewood for the winter and since trips to the dry land were sparse, anything would do. This seemed like the place, and Daegron's chant that was already been whispered under breath grew louder. Those hateful words that made no sense to none other than himself, the man who was preparing himself for a transformation. An invocation of power for a few arrangements of flesh and bone, a few needed improvements. His Djed was already swirling, eager to spread around his body and instigate the change by command. He was thinking of a bit of protection for his chest and vital areas inside and about turning his fists jagged and harder. Nothing too fancy, just a few helpers, and perhaps some facial change for intimidation. But his thoughts were interrupted by a menacing mockery. The sailor's blue eyes were piercing him when he turned and surprisingly enough he understood what was going on.

"I thought we'd have a bit of a manly fight. Is that how you prove your worth ?"

How the hell did he know ? Appearances are indeed deceiving and only one who manipulates Djed can understand when magic is about to be used. Daegron noticed a slight twitch on the man's left eye a moment before he reached with his right hand and pulled a heavy looking cabinet out of the pile with an effortless pull.

"Let's leave magic out of it shall we ?" he said and tossed the thing straight to the Morpher, whose focus was instantly interrupted. He leaned to the side, back to the wall and thankfully avoided the hit. This unnatural increase in strength was familiar. Parnell had used it against him during that little...misconception they had at the NMSS. This wouldn't be as easy as he thought. Yet he feared not, in fact he welcomed the challenge and gritted his teeth.

"Fine !" he grunted and he rose his fists. His breath was uneven and his heart pounded with excitement. Adrenaline was pumped all over his body. As he walked closer with slow steady steps, the old man pulled his hands up and posed. He looked very calm when he spoke.

"So, what's the name of the whelp I'm beating up, in case you take too long to wake up ?"
"Daegron!" he sneered.
"Excellent !" he chuckled. "I'm Basso.. Enjoy !" He smiled.

A few quick steps brought Daegron in striking distance. With a loud huff his left fist flew towards Basso's face, attempting a quick jab. It was meant to test his opponent and not to actually hurt. His opponent blocked the strike with the back of his right forehand, raising an elbow. Then with the same hand, Daegron's arm was deftly shoved aside and before Daegron could hit with his already raised right fist, two quick jabs hit his chest forcefully, taking away his breath for a couple of ticks. Basso stepped backwards and chuckled, his eyes still locked on the Morpher's gaze.

-------------------------------------------------
words : 640

[Daegron]

Engaged.
This wouldn't be an easy fight. It surely wouldn't be the first time that he'd been beat, but he wasn't willing to give up. Despite his ripe age, Basso was one fast kind of a petcher. There was also a lot of strength in that wiry body of his. Not the unnatural kind of strength that he had amply displayed a few moments ago. More like of a man who has managed to keep himself in good shape. Daegron took this little break as a chance to study his opponent. Perhaps he could find some obvious weak spot and use it to his advantage.

The sailor's stance was relaxed. There was no visible tension in his body and he seemed to be calm and collected. Perhaps unnaturally so. Daegron's tension on the other hand was evident, from the gritted teeth to his clenched fists and the tightened muscles that were ready to spring. His opponent remained motionless and it was evident that his breath was slow and even, while himself was continuously swaying left and right. His pulse was racing and his breath already wheezing from those earlier hits. It was obvious that Basso had seen his fair share of fights, far more than himself could count on the small scars and marks on his body.

"You coming, or do you need to catch your breath ?" he mocked and motioned Daegron to come closer. In response, the Morpher huffed and took a couple of steps to close the gap. On his left he noticed, with the corner of his eye, the broken remains of a chair that could be used as an improvised weapon. He took a small step forward and grunted while his sole was planted forcefully on the platform's floor. This small feint worked and he grabbed the chair's leg with his left hand and making a small arc in front of him felt it connect with his opponent's arm as it moved in the way to block the obstacle while he ducked. With a growl he attempted a hit with his right knee, hoping to catch him square on the chest or face, but instead, Basso with his right palm blocked the attack and using the force behind it, he swiftly got up again as the chair flew away. At the same time, his left palm was launched forward and landed square on Daegron's jaw. The forceful hit stunned him and he stumbled backwards. And by the time he managed to find his footing, the old man's shin struck his left side, forcing him to lean forward in pain. The strong kick was followed by a knee that struck him a couple of inches below his neck. As he fell on his back, Basso retreated once more, grinning.

"I'm petched..."" was the first thought that came to his mind. But this little... inconvenience was not enough to weaken his resolve.

He slowly got up again and gathered his wits. As his opponent stood and waited for his next attack, he took a deep breath and mustered all the strength he could get. And once he felt ready and was close enough, all of a sudden he charged forward, catching the middle aged fighter by surprise. By using his sheer mass he hurled himself and trampled him. As they both hit the floor, a fist was raised and crashed on Basso's temple. The second punch struck the wooden platform and sent a wave of pain up to his shoulder. That moment was enough for the sailor to recover and he managed to roll and get on top, while shoving an elbow on the Morpher's throat. Following his usual routine, he got up and waited for Daegron to recover.

------------------

words: 621

[Daegron]

Overwhelmed.
Sweat was already settling on his brow, his breath was getting harder and he was already tired. But he'd managed to learn something. Unlike himself, Basso did not rely on his strength during their fight. He knew where to hit, he knew where it hurt, and he had ways to reach those spots faster than Daegron could. Instead of using his mass as the driving force with, he preferred quick and precise hits. Greatly superior in technique, his method was unlike anything the Morpher had ever seen, or felt.

"Are you daydreaming, whelp ?" he mocked once more and his laughter was the most annoying thing in the world right now.

But his own advantage was strength. He had to find a way to use it effectively. He stepped closer and with a grunt he stopped, planting his left foot on the floor and his leg was raised to shove a good straight kick on the sailor's chest. But his foot never reached the target. Basso simply lowered one of his hands and his wrist connected with Daegron's ankle. It only took a quick yet gentle push to redirect all the strength behind the hit slightly to his left but safely away from his torso. Daegron was surprised and as his foot landed he found himself simply standing defenceless in front of his opponent. The sailor was quick to seize the opportunity and with a quick step he came dangerously close, behind Daegron's awkwardly positioned hands. Before the Morpher could react or pull back, Basso's hands deftly reached for his shoulder and chest and he was forcefully pushed. A few ticks of stumbling and flailing ended with him crashing on the floor, a few feet away..

Moaning as he got up, he was hoping for another break, but it just wasn't meant to be that way. The sailor had already covered the distance between them, so in response DAegron hastily reached and grabbed his opponent's shoulders and before the old man could break free from the firm grasp, the Morpher's mane flailed madly as his head flew straight for the sailor's face. The impact thundered into his scull and all he could do was to try and follow with a solid straight punch on the man's gut. But instead of hitting a nose or a jaw, his fist was caught before his arm was spread. All the strength behind the hit was stolen away as the oldster, swiftly recovering from what should have been a devastating hit, used the force to turn around and bring his elbow to land on Daegron's ear. A quick succession of jabs hit his ribs and he found himself with his back on the wall. He barely managed to see the glint on the sailor's eyes before he felt the palm crashing against his chest. He huffed, and struggled and choked and fell on his knees, unable to breathe. A few moments of horror followed as consciousness waned. The palm was still there, pushing against his lungs. He gasped, but it was hopeless. His hands flailed without a purpose, and it was all for naught.

When the hand was finally removed, he was on his knees, and a long coughing fit brought him back to life. He was defeated, simple as that.

"That's enough... you've won" he barely managed to say, before collapsing with exhaustion.

[Daegron]

Unexpected.
"You're right, it's enough..." Basso said and his expression changed from one of mockery to a more stern and serious one. As Daegron turned to look at him, a hand was offered and a smile. Curious as where that came from, he decided it would be best not to accept the sailor's help to get up.
"It's no trick Daegron, I don't want to harm you... sailor's honour."
Hesitantly Daegron gripped the hand and pushed his sore body up. No trick indeed was meant, as he was heaved up by the man who was an opponent just a couple of chimes ago.
"What do you want ?" he said while still breathing heavily. His chest was hurting bad.
A chuckle was his response."I got a proposition for you. You see, our meeting wasn't random."
"Never seen you before..."
"You weren't supposed to. Till you crawled into my den. For soup no less."
Daegron could not contain the curiosity that was now painted all over his features. he rubbed his sides and kept pressing on his ribs. A few moments later he was more or less certain that despite all the battering, none of them was broken.
"You got a job ?" said the old man and his blue eyes shone once more.
"What's it to you ? No."
"Why do you care ? You want one ? This is an one of a time offer"
The Morpher was confused, and it was evident. Was that some sort of a prank ? "What do you mean ?" he grunted.
"There's a man, a friend of mine of sorts. His name is Phineas Moretti. A businessman with high connections"
Daegron's interest was picked and he couldn't hide it behind his odd grin.
"What about him ?"
"He's in the market for a bodyguard of some sort. I found someone who can do it."
"Me ?" he asked. He was just beaten to a pulp. Fact was that a bodyguard's work involved taking a beating for someone else.
"Yes, your fighting skills may be lacking but we can fix that. You got the intimidating looks, the grit and the strength needed. People talk and they've said good things for you. Also, you seem to be far smarter than anyone I've tried. Your magic is a plus, whatever the petch it is."
Daegron couldn't think of someone that would say good things about him. He highly doubted that an Ebonstryfe member he'd met during those past two missions would be bothered. But still, the offer was great and he couldn't help but question the sailor's motives.
"And why do you care ? What's in it for you ?" he sneered, staring straight at those shiny blue orbs.
Basso chuckled. "I couldn't care less, normally. But it's a bet I lost, and I have to keep my part of the deal. Sailor's honour."
"Go on, what do I have to do to speak to this Moretti guy ?"
"See ? There's a reason that I didn't mess up your face, other than wanting to exhaust you. You will wear new clothes, clean yourself up and become presentable. Tonight, you'll visit the Yae Varone studio. You won't miss him, he's in his fifties, a bit chubby, balding and sports a goatee. He's the one that grins all the time."
"That's all ?"
"No. You need to hold a bouquet of daisies when you present yourself to him. No, don't think this is a joke, that's how he'll know I sent you and you're good to go. The flowers are for his niece."
"Daisies ?" he shuddered at the thought.
The sailor laughed." Don't thank me all at once petcher !" He turned to leave and walked away.
"Thanks, I guess.."
"Come find me when you are ready to receive a proper lesson in humility, or combat." the sailor said as he turned on the first alley to his left and disappeared.

[Daegron]

The same evening

Presence.
He didn't waste any time. He dragged his aching body as fast as he could to his cubicle in the NHC. This was a chance in a million, truth be told and he was not going to let if fall away. Mizas were getting tight and he'd given up hope, trying to push the whole matter into the back of his brain. He didn't know what would be worse. Being kicked out from this four walled windowless hole, and scrounging for food in a lake monster infested city or being unable to enjoy the pleasures that his favourite establishments had to offer ?

All these concerns faded in the background as he sank into that tub after a few long minutes of carrying buckets of water all the way to his room. He was calm and relaxed, and much as his bruised body protested, his spirits were lifted.

It was a few bells later that in front of the mirror, a different man stood. Not a product of the Art, nor powered by Djed. He'd worn the last good set of clothes left, his raven black mane was combed and very different than the usual greasy mess, his stubble was trimmed and thankfully, the sailor hadn't caused any damage on his face. He looked at himself with pride and laughed. Perhaps, taking care of your looks wasn't that bad after all. He could get used to it. He might need it if he was to walk aound Ravok's high society.

He wore his coat and left. The nights were getting chillier even under Rhysol's protection, he wasn't used to living so far north. He welcomed the cool breeze waking him up as he walked along the Docks' alleys and canals. It wasn't long till he found what he was looking for; an old lady whose name he could not remember was selling flowers in some corner. Much as he hated what he was doing, and trying to avoid the chuckle that escaped the woman's lips, he asked for a small bouquet of something. Anything would do. What did daisies look like anyway ? He was looking away as he payed a couple of silvers and promptly left, his steps uneasy and awkwardly fast, as if he was running away from shame. He climbed on the first Ravosala and sat on the rather uncomfortable seat as the boat slid in the calm waters.

It wasn't long till he found himself outside the Yae Varone Studio. A place rumored to host the rich and the filthy rich. A place rumored to send away people like himself. And so it tried to do, in the form of a rather pale and thin man approaching him as he entered.

"Ah, excuse me, this is the wrong kind of building. It's alright though, no worries, the Black Hole is right across the canal. Have a good night." His voice was a little girly and so were his manners. But then , that is what he thought of all those pompous wealthy bafoons. His weak hand was pointing towards the place where nightmares come true. He couldn't help but wonder how close two different worlds could be. Seperated by a few feet of water. How easily one could find himself from one side to the other, but hardly ever vice versa.

"I have to go in.." he responded trying to keep a pleasant facade of a face.
"Nuh uh, you don't. My friend Butch can convince you otherwise." His girlish hand pointed towards a monster of a man that sat in a far corner. A very well dressed monster of a man that tried to drink from a teacup. It almost made him laugh at that oddity. But his fuse was short and he was getting antsy. He had a few good words to say to this whimp that defied him, but it would kill his effort. Instead, in all his suppressed frustration he flailed that petching bouquet. The man, if one could call him that,already had an answer, one he whispered whil looking around.

"You were supposed to say a simple phrase. "I bring daisies for Mr. Moretti's lovely niece!". Daisies ! Not this.... this...graveyard decoration. How hard is it for you people ? Go in, and next time, study your petching act!"

The way he said petching was too funny to ignore. Suppressing a laugh he walked into the main hall. Tea and pastries and he was already feeling sick. Everything was so clean and expensive. One didn't need to be very observant to see that he clearly didn't fit.

[Daegron]

Accordance.
It didn't take long for him to spot his target. His future employer was sitting in a table along with an old man and they were playing some game of cards. He took a deep breath and feeling confident but also anxious he finally approached.

"Mr Moretti ?" he said trying to get his attention. It didn't happen. He cleared his throat in as a good manner as it was possible. It sounded awful, but it got their attention. A brute, trying to dress well and holding some crushed flowers on his hand as if they were the dirtiest thing in Mizahar.

Moretti's first reaction was a grin. As if he was seeing something funny. But Daegron's keen eye spotted something else. The glint of a small victory in the merchant's gaze.
"Pay up !" he said.
The other man's eyes opened wide and he seemed furious for a moment.
"You bastard ! I should have known better !" he said and tossed a gold miza to Moretti. He then got up and left without a word, but it was clear to Daegron that the curses he was muttering under his teeth were not very proper. Moretti got up and took the bouquet while chuckling.
"Thank you my friend, another bet won it seems, but those Valdinox people cannot really take a good joke on them... a pity, but I won't cry." His voice was calm and gentle. And friendly, surprisingly friendly.
"Here, have a seat, let's talk. I'd offer you tea, but... I am sure you are a lover of the better stuff.."

Daegron was dumbfounded. There were no words to describe this. The person in fron of him had a way to disarm anyone with a few mere words and a smile. He just sat and finally uttered a few words.
"Basso sent me.."
"I figured as much. So how good are you at what I need hmm ?"
Daegron started to relax a bit, and though tension was still evident on his shoulders, he also felt confident enough.
"I'd say petching good.. but I should watch my language, right ?" It wasn't a very bad line. Or was it ?
"Fair enough. You look good enough and we'll find out the rest. I don't know what he told you, but I need someone to escort me while I do mundane boring and occasionally exciting stuff."
"I have keen senses and quick wits, other than what you see on me.". Truth was, that his figure was intimidating enough that he could be considered a natural talent at what whas requested from him.
"Indeed. The hours won't be many, and if all goes well your life will be boring with me. Unless I corrupt you with art and events and business."
"I'll be straight with you. I'll do my best." He tried his best to convey the truth of that statement, to make it look as completely honest. And to do that his emerald eyes stared straight into Moretti's. Piercing and sincere.
"A man of few words eh ? There are so few of you these days. But I prefer deeds than blabbering myself so we'll be just fine. I'd also appreciate if you kept your...talents.. a bit out of the way. Unless needed of course which I certainly hope not." How the hell did he know ? Who talked about him to this man ?
"You're right. Unless I really have to. You have my word." He said, and his gaze was still locked. A few moments of silence passed and Daegron found himself somehow enjoying Moretti's company but also unable to read his expression. The tower bell rang nine times.
"Very well then. If you are ready I want you to come pick me up tomorrow from my house. Keep your outfit clean, like today and we'll see how this goes." He got up with that wide grin of his still in place. "Now if you'll excuse me, there's some exhibition upstairs that I really have to attend to." He ended the phrase with a sigh that clearly stated his unending boredom.
They fared each other well and Daegron left the Studio. It was at that time that he realized a fact. His employer's wide grin was truly contagious.

[Nemesis]

Daegron

Skills	*	*
Brawling	*	+1
Intimidation	*	+1
Investigation	*	+1
Negotiation	*	+2
Observation	*	+2
Unarmed Combat	*	+3
Tactics	*	+1

Lores

*Basso: A proposition

*Phineas Moretti: Employer

*

*

*

*

*

*
*
Consequences, Injuries, Expenses, and More!

• -1 silver miza
• One broken rib, left side. Healed within 40 days, with treatment, 60 without.
• + Job as a Bodyguard!

__________

• Lovely thread, wasn't expecting that end result!
• Still waiting on the PM write up for Phineas Moretti - need that before the job is completely official!