Open Showdown in Little Sunset (Arlana, Open)

[Kechaiya]

Fall 43nd AV Prompt, All Day :

Bang. Bang. Bang

"Oy, open the door ya dirty rat or I'm breakin' it down."

The older man inside was clutching shakily at the dagger as he lifted the bar lock from his door. The brute who had yelled barged in, short sword in hand, just laughing as he saw the blade. He was followed into the poor man's house by several equally armed thugs. One pushed the old man up against the wall, as the others began to ransack the place. Their leader smiled smugly as he stared at him, "We have... reason to believe those poor... kidnapped... darlin' orphans might be here. So we are 'inspecting' in order to find them. Don't fight and you won't have any problems."

It soon became clear as the men were searching small drawers and under the mattress. They found no children, but they did find several valuables of the man's. "It seems that you are clear. We thank you for your donations to the cause of finding them childrens." He threw back his head and laughed as he and his men walked out, happy with another successful shakedown. They'd been pulling this lie several times all day, and couldn't believe how lucrative it had become. And his little ragtag group weren't the only ones pulling this charade in the Sunset Quarter.

Moving down to the next apartment, he once more knocked forcefully, and announced his threat. "Petch off, ain't no shyke-eatin' gangsters gettin' my coin." The leader smirked, looked around at his mates, then with a single, powerful show of force, kicked the door in, throwing it off its hinges. His men stormed in, and sounds of struggle could be heard. The leader sauntered in, "Now, we we ain't murderers, ain't gangsters either, just concerned citizens just tryin' to find them childrens. If ya don't have them, we are gladly acceptin' willin' donations to help the efforts."

With a groaned response, "Petch ya, the lot of ya can suck Ivak's burning ars..." There was a loud snap of bone, "Now, you ready to give that willing donation." Words were mumbled, and the leader laughed loudly, "Great. We all hafta do our part to find thems childrens."

Timestamp: Fall 43rd, 514 AV
Location: Streets of Sunset Quarter
Time of Day: 14th Bell, Midday

Kechaiya stepped out of her apartment, locking her door behind her, putting the strung key around her neck once more. She'd returned for her midday meal, having already put in many bells of work fixing up people all over the quarter that had been shaken down for valuables under the guise of helping the kidnapped orphans. Broken arms, bopped heads, and heavy bruising were the worst of it. She decided to work around the center of the neighborhood, having worked predominantly in the north earlier.

Moving through the alleys and streets, Kech moved cautiously, peering around corners as she came upon them, so that she wouldn't be surprised by men at arms going nuts. It did seem as if the violence was abating, either from too many men dying, or that everyone was starving and hadn't the energy or care to fight. Kech had managed to nip this problem in the bud, making deals with food gatherers. One of her neighbors, Nellie, was a fisherwoman, and they'd come to an agreement that allowed Kech to have a somewhat steady supply of fish and clams. Then there was the hunter Gideon, that provided meat from the animals outside the city. It may have cost her a lot in effort and favors, but it was much better to being dead in a ditch, stomach bloated out.

Passing by some of the larger buildings in the quarter, she froze as she heard arguing nearby. It sounded as if it were coming from the inside of a building that clearly wasn't a home, but perhaps an old shop or warehouse, long since abandoned. Kech made her to the opposite side of the road, as she came upon the intersection, the voices growing louder. Peering down the alley from her seemingly safer vantage point, she saw a group of men and women shouting into the warehouse at what she could only assume was another group of individuals. There was a loud guttural roar from within the building, and the violence exploded outward from there. People began pouring out of the building's many broken windows and sundered doors, approaching the mob that was probably responsible for the shakedowns. Kech peered down the alley to her left, seeing it come to a dead end, realizing she was now trapped between a bunch of very angry people with very deadly weapons.

[Kaie]

Gods did she hate this route. With the warehouse in sight, the Myrian could only remember the ambushes and violence insinuated by the loveliest scoundrels of Sunberth, and the shrieking idiocy of her two employers during the fray. The very memory made her blood run hot with irritation. Nonetheless, they'd compensated her (though lightly) for her troubles shared with Bitzer. Whether the few pieces of coin in her purse was worth the abuse was certainly still very much up for debate. And yet in light of such bad experiences, she was walking down the path to the same building once more. This time, she hoped, things would be different. No bloody petchin' chains. No obvious valuables in plain sight. No godsforsaken cripples either. Just clean, well-thought out business. The Myrian could only hope.

"Should be it right up there," She murmured to herself when her amber eyes spied on warehouse in particular. It was a rather neglected looking thing. Shutters hung pathetically from windows, wood paneling was rotted and damp with mold. It was a wonder the roof of the place hadn't caved. Boots pivoted upon gravel and made for the place. The loyal bumping of her gladius against her hip was almost reassuring, as was the light weight of the twin kukri fastened to her back in their harness. The light buzz of alcohol downed several chimes ago radiated a self-assuredness in her veins. It would be a simple job, she'd been told by the man she'd met at the Drunken Fish. A simple meeting at the abandoned warehouse with his fellows to hammer out a deal and plan the escort of the goods into the city. An easy pay, an easy-going meeting simply to network. Then she heard it.

There was a roar from inside the building, a rise in voices and the sound of something smashing against a wall. Rounding the corner, the Myrian realized all too late what she'd walked into: the angry retribution of a Sunberth mob. Petch! She growled internally, finding more racing in from behind her to join the confrontation. Amber eyes darted about for an escape, her right hand tightly clutching the handle of her gladius as feet rushed toward her. Finally her decision was made. Run! She made a break toward a dark alleyway to avoid being squeezed by two angry flanks. Boots sprinted around the corner, and all too late did the Myrian notice the head peering from its shadows.

The gladius shrieked a metallic hymn as she tugged it from its sheath. Her free left hand turned to a fist and rose to a guard, teeth grit as she prepared to defend herself. Then she saw the woman's eyes. They were completely blacked but familiar all the same. Kaie let out the breath she'd been holding and pressed her back against the momentary safety of the alley wall. Her hands dropped to her side. "You. We've met before. At The Quay." Her head peered out from the alleyway and her brow furrowed when it seemed both sides had drawn their weapons. Violence was sure to follow. "Well. Sorry to say we aren't meeting under calmer circumstances. I hope you've got something sharp on you, we might be forced to use it if this turns bloody."

[Caela Dorin]

.

It had certainly turned into an interesting day. Certainly eventful although she wished it hadn't been.

As usual she'd returned from doing her morning exercise up by the Hot Springs a little before midday. She'd only intended to drop off her stuff, change her clothes and go for a wander in the city. The wander had been put off when she'd very nearly walked smack bang into the middle of a home invasion on the floor below hers. She'd had the sense to find cover as soon as she realised what was going on, listening to what the men had to say. They were entering a room while the occupant was there, talking of looking for orphans and rifling through the room's contents for awhile before they'd spoken about taking "donations" for the cause. It didn't seem to be the first room that they'd hit either and so it had looked like it'd be only a matter of time before they tried to smash their way into her own room. She hadn't lingered for long once she knew exactly what was going on but disappeared upstairs again as quietly as she could.

Once inside, she locked the door and the trunk that normally was used to hold clothes was pushed up against it to try to block any attempts at entry. Money that was hidden beneath the clothes in the trunk was fished out and placed on her bed. She was about to shove the bed aside to be able to reach the floorboards beneath it but she realised that the movement might scratch the floor and make it obvious to an intruder that there was something beneath it that was of interest. Instead she scrambled under the bed, a tight squeeze but one that was necessary as she dug her dagger into the space between two of the boards. The blade was wiggled along the entire length of it, trying to loosen them at the sides first. The same process was repeated around the entirety of one board until there was enough of a gap for her to get the tips of her fingers into. Gripping the board as best as she could, the blonde slid the knife under one end to try to remove it from where it was attached.

It took a lot of careful jiggling, the risk of damaging the blade a very real concern despite the impending threat from those thugs below stairs. It was amazingly frustrating to be trying to do something that required such patience and care when her nerves were pretty shot. Slowly the board was loosened bit by bit but she found herself constantly looking towards the door, listening for the sounds of steps in the hallway. The blonde had the idea in her head that if she could hide all her valuables and get out that she wouldn't be bothered. Sure, they might break into her room anyway but if she passed by them at the right time in the corridor than she'd be able to get away unharmed. If all else failed she could always run.

One end of the board that she was working on was levered up enough that she got her fingers under it and pulled up. One end came free and the other end was pulled free of where it was nailed too. It was done with caution, the old board liable to break to pieces if she wasn't careful with it. A small space was revealed but it wasn't big enough for what the dancer wanted to put in there. She started the slow work of removing another board as a scream came from below. A moment's pause before she continued her work in earnest. The second board was easier, already loose on one side. She only had to dig around it with her dagger to make sure that it'd part willingly and pulled.

As soon as the space beneath the boards was revealed as much as she wanted the pieces of wood were set to one side before she crawled out from under her bed. Her backpack was pushed under it and shoved into the new hiding space to be soon followed by her clothing - she didn't want anyone rifling through them and taking souvenirs - and her money. Once all of her belongings were in her new underfloor storage area, the boards were set carefully back in place and thumped down on by the dancer. It was while she was testing the boards to make sure that they were secure that she heard the men in the hallway on her floor.

The only thing that she kept with her was her dagger, the blade sheathed to her hip before she went anywhere. The blonde retreated from her bed and crept to the door, moving the trunk back as quietly as she could to allow herself room to escape. The door was unlocked as quietly as she could manage before she inched it open so she could listen to the goings on in the hallway. She waited. As soon as they started to barge their way into one of the other rooms she had her window of opportunity. Slipping from the room, she shut and locked the door as quickly as possible hoping that the racket that the thugs were making would cover the sounds. She crept down the hall, keeping as little weight on her feet as she could speeding up as she passed the doorway.

"Hey!"

Caela broke into a run. Down the stairs without breaking her neck. Down the corridor. Out the main door. Footsteps thundering behind her. She kept running even when the sound of footsteps was indistinguishable from the other noises in Sunset Quarter. The blonde wouldn't dare to look back in case she lost her footing and so she ploughed on even as her breathing became wheezing and she wanted to felt ready to cough up her burning lungs. A stitch threatened her side making her run change to a hobbled jog as she approached some sort of warehouse. Now a glance behind was risked and the coast was found to be clear... except for the oncoming mob of course. What everyone else was doing had not entered her notice before then but she became all too aware when she got caught up in the mass of humanity.

Panic had her driving her way to the side, shoving people aside to forge a path for herself as adrenaline pumped through her body. She staggered out, darting for a nearby alley rather than risking going against the tide. She collapsed against the wall, still wheezing and looked at the other occupants of her sanctuary with a dull gaze. There was some foreign woman with a primal look about her, her bronze skin attesting to origins elsewhere. And beside her...

"Kechaiya!" The doctor's name came out in a hoarse whisper, Caela's eyes seeming to come to life at the sight of someone that she knew. That one word set her coughing, choking almost as her much depleted air supply was prevented from resupplying.
.

[Arlana]

Arlana had been stalking the ragtag group of looters for a couple of bells now. By now, she could already predict the exact words their leader would use upon knocking on a door. She had already eyed every single weapon the group had on them and every single item they had stolen from the poor Sunberthians. Mizas clinked in their pockets, attracting the female thief’s attention. It shouldn’t be too hard, grabbing a few of their loots while they were somewhat preoccupied. People let down their guard when they thought they had the advantage.

She crept quietly behind them as they moved from home to home, keeping a good distance away. Not a single person from the group had noticed her so far. They were far too focused on celebrating with their loots every time they moved on to another house.

So far, Arlana had not attempted anything yet, still bidding her time as she tried to single out a particular person to become her target. A particular young man had caught her attention however. He seemed slightly uncomfortable with attacking the innocent residents, looking guiltier and guiltier as the time passed. And so, he was tasked with carrying most of their loot, trailing behind the group. No one paid him any attention – almost forgotten him even.

Then they arrived at the next house. She could hear the refusal from the house’s owner. A kick on the door was what came next, as it always did. What was different this time was that there were a lot more people inside then anyone had expected. They poured out with might have been measley battlecry.

Unsurprisingly, a fight broke out of nowhere. Instinctively, all Arlana’s flared into a moment of panic. Her heart started racing. Someone was shoved into her, the force enough to send her briefly into the ground. With the pumping of adrenaline and a little experience over the years, Arlan tucked her body for a roll, then making sure her feet sent her springing back up. Staying under was not an option in clash like this. It would take mere ticks for her to get trampled.

There was only one thing on her mind: I need to get out. Fast.

Fortunately, the young man she was watching earlier didn’t seem like the brightest. He had been shocked for a few seconds and then dropping everything – including the bag of stolen things – before joining his fellow thieves.

Arlana saw the opportunity. In the havoc, no one noticed a young woman with dark hair approaching the bag before digging out a a pouch of mizas and a few loaves of bread, stuffing it in her own bag. Now it was time for her to go. But by then, she realized her only escape way was an alley with a dead end.

In the corner of eyes, she noticed a slightly familiar flash of blonde hair, coughing and spluttering as she sagged against the wall. It was the young woman she had met yesterday during Noven’s little meeting. She didn’t look so great. During normal circumstances, Arlana might have simply left her alone, but right now, they were both trapped. She figured it was better to have an ally of some sort. Eyeing the blade on Caela, the thief hoped it would prove to provide some protection when it came down to it.

Arlana approached hastily the blonde woman, carefully keeping close to the walls and hopefully avoiding attention. Her eyes kept darting to the chaos that was unfolding in front of her, worried that it might get worse any tick now. “You alright?”

“Speech.” “Hypnotism.”

[Kechaiya]

Kech fumbled to get her dagger free as a woman approached her with sword in hand. When she finally got it from the waist of her skirt, she realized that she'd met this woman before, and that she herself was also recognized. The few times she'd been at the Quay, she'd seen the woman, though had never spoken to her. The woman's advice was sound, even if Kech wasn't exactly confident in her dagger play. Nodding, she wasn't sure what to do; run, fight, or try and hold this dead end alley.

And then Caela showed up out of petching nowhere, chest heaving from exertion. "What do here Caela?" The violence had spilled out right in front of their dead end, as a woman she didn't recognize joined them, making the same assumption, it seemed, that she had. Seriously, someone needed to hang a sign over this alley. It was about to get them all... Kech just realized why they were called dead ends. Had this been a less violent atmosphere, she probably would've giggle-snorted like an idiot. Kechaiya watched the dark haired woman speak to Caela, and realized that this was some sort of bad luck reunion.

And it only got worse, as everything in Sunberth did. The violence had broiled over and was now completely blocking easy escape from the alley. "Oy, there's more of those thieving bitches in the alley, they're even armed." The man pointed at Kaie's sword and Kechaiya's dagger, and her stomach sank. Kechaiya had no idea if Caela or the dark haired woman were armed or could fight, so she put herself in between the coming attackers and Caela as three men charged. Two had make shift clubs, looking as if they were ripped from tables or chairs, and the other had a sword of his own. Kechaiya swung her pack off her shoulders, and held it by a single strap in her left hand. The sword swinger went for Kaie, one of the clubbers went for the dark haired woman, and one came toward herself.

Kechaiya tried to judge the distance as the brute came toward her, and swung her pack as hard as she could muster at him. And missed. Because swung early. But it had caused him to slow his charge as he now lumbered toward her, confident in his ability to beat down the small doctor. She tried swing at him again from the opposite direction, but her just caught it and yanked her toward him roughly. He swung the table leg down and it caught her hard in the back, Kech screaming loudly in pain as she dropped to the ground, dropping her blade. The man kicked it away and stepped over her toward Caela.

[Kaie]

The only thing more concerning than brewing conflict was the emergence of new faces within Kaie's hopeful hiding place. Granted, it was the Chaktawe looking woman's spot first but it was besides the point. With adrenaline zipping through her veins, gladius tight in her right hand, and amber eyes practically hunting for an oncoming threat, it would be an understatement to claim the savage was merely on edge. A blonde woman collapsed against the same alley wall the Myrian had posted up again. Out of instinct and surprise, Kaie lifted her gladius to perform a preemptive swing at the intruder...that is until she heard the woman address the woman the Myrian had met once at The Quay.

Kechaiya. So that's her name, She thought with a deep exhale, lowering her sword when it was clear the two were indeed acquainted. Voices were raised out in the streets, the animosity palpable. It was as if the three in the alleyway were standing on a fault line, grumbling and moaning moment before the quake. Going to have to either post up here and hope no one sees us, or make a break for it. For the love of Myri, it would be a shyke show trying to cut our way out.
"Guess we have a popular hideout. Sorry by the way," She said to the blonde Kechaiya had dubbed Caela, then gestured to her sword, which had come awfully close to making a go at her when she'd first darted into the alleyway. The Myrian then edged toward the corner and peered out, only to find another woman with dark hair appearing. She shook her head. Hopefully it's true what they say about strength in numbers. Just then a man made eye contact with her and began slapping his friends on the shoulders, pointing at the alley and shouting. The Myrian glanced back at the dead end. Oh, petch me.

When Kechaiya stepped up, Kaie was quick to flank her shoulder-to-shoulder. Her knees bent, back straight as her body slunk into a predatory combat crouch. Her free left hand and gladius rose in a guard before her. She glanced at her companion with a raised brow. "Using the bag, too? Clever." Despite her new comrade's ingenuity, one thought went through her head: truly they were petched. Yet when the three loomed in, it was hardly the time to despair. A cruel man with a sword edged toward her, a wicked sneer upon his face. Kaie grit her teeth. Thus it began.

"Well? What are you waiting for? Come on!" The man grunted and lunged forward, short sword whipping downward for above. Kaie stepped forward, gladius ripping through the air to meet his strike, the contact sending a shiver down her muscles. She sent her left fist into the side of his face. He stumbled back, cursing violently and dashing his sword before him to ward off any advance. Then he rocketed back in a horizontal, arching swoop of his blade. Kaie rocked back, spine bending as she avoided the swing meant to cut her in two. He came again with another swoop, forcing her backward with a few more steps. Rather than allow him to break the makeshift line she had formed with the backpack-wielder, the Myrian led out a vicious growl and, when he tried to make the same move again, struck his sword downward with hers. Her left heel launched into his hips, doubling him over. As the Myrian moved in to plunge the pommel of her sword against the back of the man's skull, the club-handlers sneaked between herself and her comrade toward the two other women in the alleyway.

"Petch,"
She cursed in her native tongue as she watched the two dart by, feeling the burn of her gnosis scorching to life upon her flesh. Her fingers gripped the handle of her blade with new finesse, and as the man crumpled against the ground after her head-strike, she sank her sword through the back of his ribcage. The man let out a cry of agony. Kaie tore the gladius brutally from the wound and turned toward the other women caught in the fray, seeking to help wherever necessary.

[Caela Dorin]

.

The doctor seemed confused about what she was doing. Caela couldn't say that she had all the answers concerning how she'd gotten here but she did have some idea. Before she had had a chance to catch her breath to reply to Kechaiya, someone else appeared in the alley and another familiar face at that. Her name, if she'd given it before, was completely forgotten although the features were linked with that wonderful day where Noven had... Shuddering she pushed the memory back down, rubbing her sore chest as she gasped necessary air in. The other foreign woman had just apologised for nearly running her through with her sword and Caela watched her warily for a moment and then turned to Arlana. "I'm fine, thanks," she told the newcomer before returning her attention to the mixed blood. The reply to her query died on her lips as a shout came from somewhere outside of their hiding spot.

There was a moment of confusion as she glanced out looking for the source of the voice and what it was talking about before her puzzled gaze turned back to her companions. For the first time, she noticed that the doctor was holding a knife and that those men coming towards them were pointing out the weapons the women had between them. Oh shyke, they were talking about them!

Three men approached, one armed with a blade and two with clubs. The women outnumbered them but that didn't mean that they had the advantage. The foreigner with the sword probably knew what she was doing but she doubted that Kechaiya could do anything. Caela wasn't good with a dagger, she really wasn't but she could try and as for the fourth woman, she'd have to pick up the slack if one of them got into trouble. The opportunity to test her fighting skills was blocked, the doctor coming to stand between Caela and the oncoming attackers. Was she actually trying to protect the dancer?

There was no time for protests as the men were so quickly upon them, the three other women becoming targets while Caela was left in the background being protected by a doctor with a backpack and a blade. The sword woman certainly knew how to use it, clearly able to handle herself against her opponent but Kechaiya couldn't manage it. The dancer's dagger was unsheathed, coming out pointing downwards but she changed it to a forward grip as she made a move forward and searched for a way to slip around so as to come to the woman's aid. The chance to help came only after the doctor had fallen, the fight between her and the man over in what seemed like ticks. Now Caela was left helping herself.

All of her focus was placed on the oncoming attacker as he stepped over Kechaiya. She had a dagger, didn't really know how to use it but she had some vague notions of how to fight unarmed. Noven had told her to move her feet and never stop moving so why not use the same principle while fighting with a dagger instead of with her fists?

The man didn't look particularly fast. Slow, lumbering, probably relied on brute strength to fight and a solid body to catch the impact of blows. He could probably move fast if he wanted to do so but he wasn't doing it now, his face sneering as he approached her. A step forward on his part was met with a step back on hers, the dancer all too aware that she had limited space to work with. The last thing that she could allow was to let herself be backed up against a wall. On her toes now, the blonde stepped to the left, the man's body following her movement. He'd have a greater reach than she would, he had a bigger stride and so she was going to have to rely solely on speed.

A move back to the right, a quick dart in, dart back, moving to the left again, the right. He was a little slow keeping up with her, brows creased as he tried to take a swing at her once she was in range. A fast backpedal away from him, darting in to attack his right side. The blade was stabbed at the exposed right armpit, earning a howl before darting away again as a retaliatory blow came swishing back at her head. She dodged but not far or fast enough, the club catching a glancing blow on the side of her head. She was sent staggering sideways into the left hand wall.

Shaking her head to clear the spots from her vision, another blow came this time into her stomach. The air whooshed out of her, the woman doubled over and spluttering as he grabbed her hair and flung her downwards with a kick to the back of her knee. The blonde collapsed. Her vision was blurred from tears of pain but she searched for her missing dagger, unsure just when she had lost it. Her attacker found it first, sending it sliding away from her with a kick. Green eyes looked upwards to what seemed like a dizzying height and saw the man peering down at her. He was standing right above her head now, the club raised and poised to strike and she did the first thing that sprang to mind. Hands grasped his ankle, the bottoms of filthy pants pushed up to reveal equally dirty skin. Her teeth sank into the flesh without a moment's thought, blood soon mixing with the mucky taste on her tongue.

He was screaming now, the blonde shaking her jaws from side to side to further rip the flesh, awaiting a death blow at any second.
.

[Arlana]

Things were not going so well. At first, the thief had hoped that maybe they would go unnoticed somehow, half-hidden inside the small alley. They should be preoccupied with their own fight. But of course, Lhex always had his ways of surprising people. There wasn’t even any time for the four women to converse very long before Arlana heard the shouting at the opening of their alley. A man, waving his weapon and calling for his friends. Petching shyke.

“Oy, there’s more of those thieving bitches in the alley, they’re even armed.”

Arlana’s first instinct was to run and so, she whirled back, immediately assessing the three walls that trapped them. Her eyes sought nooks and unevenness of the surface, anything that might able to support her over the wall and onto the rooftop. But there were none. If they were to escape from this little death trap, they were going to have to boost one another and that was not an option for the moment.

So focused on looking for a way out, Arlana barely noticed the man approaching her. Yet, after years living in Sunberth, her body noticed the incoming thread, bristling in anticipation. And the thief turned just in time.

Pure adrenaline coursed through her bloodstream as her eyes widened and luck had saved her head from getting knocked off her shoulder. The world slowed down for a brief moment and Arlana ducked just in time as the club flew above her. Something told her she wouldn’t be so lucky next time. The thief quickly scrambled back, aware of the wall that was getting closer and closer. First rule in Sunberth, don’t get trapped. Frankly, she just broke that rule. Things were not going to end well for Arlana.

“Come back here, bitch!” the man called out, his words slurring. For the first time, Arlana noticed the uneven way of his movements, uncontrolled and awkward. The man was either drunk or high on some drugs she didn’t care about. Finally, some good news. Still, even when drunk, the man was probably still the better fighter.

Only then did she remember the gladius she always carried. Arlana carried it around for so long that she nearly forgot that it was there. Gods, she should have learned how to use the petching blade. Well, too late for that now. She rested her hand on the hilt, ready to pull out the sword but not just yet. There must still be a way for this not to be violent. When it got violent, there was no doubt she would end up dead.

The man advanced again, lifting his club and ready to swing. The thief ignored her mind that screamed for her to run, to escape to do something, anything but fight. Flight, not fight. Arlana summoned what little djed she had, feeling gather into her vocal cords. She wasn’t trained in hypnotism, but she hoped it would be enough to stall, even for a brief tick. “WAIT!” She threw everything she had into the word. She willed him to stop, to freeze, to hesitate, to pause. She didn’t even realize that she had screamed the word.


Pain stabbed the insides of her throat and Arlana could suddenly taste a metallic tinge in her mouth. Gods, was she bleeding? She could think about that later. First she had to try not to die. And it had worked. The man looked at her oddly, but he had frozen, club mid-swing. Maybe it wasn’t her magic at all, maybe he was just surprised that the young woman in front of her had yelled fiercely out of nowhere. The window of opportunity was more than enough. Moving faster than she normally would, Arlana darted pass the man from his right – so that he wouldn’t be able to reach her since he was holding the club in his right hand.

But she wasn’t entirely that lucky. The man came to his senses to quickly and even in a drunken stupor, he swung his club. Even though she saw it coming, Arlana could not dodge it. The club made contact against her right shoulder. The momentum threw her to the side wall and her shoulder flared with pain. Arlana gritted her teeth, hissing in pain. She fumbled for her gladius, pulling it out of the sheathe stiffly. She held it in front of her, a barrier. “Don’t come any closer.” She prayed that her voice sounded sure and not at all shaky like she was feeling.

“Speech.” “Hypnotism.”

[Kaie]

Everything had happened so fast. First they were hidden, tucked away in the relative safety of the shadows. Then her world crumbled into a whirlwind of malicious, dancing blades and swinging clubs. Her muscles already began to ache in her sword arm, breath shorter with the exertion that naturally came with battle. The body at her feet stopped to stir, and grew colder by the chime in its pool of hot crimson. Her gladius was slick with blood, and her body jolted alive with the rushing adrenaline in her veins. Amber eyes flashed first to Kechaiya, narrowing as she noticed the club-wielding assailant had quickly overpowered the woman and wasted no time moving onward. The blonde she'd heard Kechaiya call Caela was evidently his next target. Another shift of the Myrian's eyes, and she caught sight of the dark-haired woman. There came a squeeze in her chest.

You left them vulnerable because you couldn't hold them back, The inner accuser cursed furiously, in turn lighting an inner fire within the young warrior. Turning upon her heels, Kaie faced the wider battlefield toward the dead end of the alley head-on. Threat and distance. Neither woman struck her as experienced combatants despite the fact they were clever enough to arm themselves. However, when she caught sight of the dark-haired woman's hand on her sword, the Myrian hoped her weapon's advantage with range would allow her to prevail. At least until one of them could intervene at the very least. She rocked back on her heels and darted forward toward the closest conflict, just when she heard one man howl.

Kaie's tan left hand gripped Caela's attacker's shoulder, while the right plunged the gladius through his abdomen. The man stiffened and let out a shriek. The club he'd lifted to pummel the woman that chomped on his flesh like an animal slipped from his fingers. It clambered to the alley floor with a woody thud. Strength left his knees when she yanked the steel outward again, thick hands hovering helplessly over the wound. The Myrian heard the raised, oddly commanding shout of the other woman in the alley. She planted her foot in the back of the dying man before her, grounding him. That's when she watched the dark-haired woman dart past the momentarily frozen man, much to Kaie's confusion, before he returned to reality to club her. A growl rose in her throat.


"Caela, right? Find your feet," She murmured through grit teeth toward the blonde though her voice was kind. The gladius at her side flicked impatiently, showering the cobbled with droplets of blood. She was in motion around, storming toward the final club-holder in a savage fit. When she came upon the dagger that had been knocked from Caela's grasp a chime ago, the Myrian swiped it backward with her heel for the blonde to reclaim. Then her voice rose to a vengeful yell aimed at the final standing assailant, and she brandished her blade. "Hey! Fuck Boy!" Kaie could only hope her call would take the heat off her companion, if only for a tick...

[Caela Dorin]

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She expected the blow to come but yet she wanted to incapacitate the man. If he was going to knock her out of action then she wanted to take him down with her. If she could shred his ankle enough then he wouldn't be able to go after the others. It was sickening to know what she was doing but the fear of the situation that she was in and the adrenaline pumping through her seemed to help keep all thoughts, even those of cannibalism, in the background.

The young woman seemed to have succeeded more than she had hoped when the blow didn't come. The man stiffened and screamed and something clattered to the ground near her head. The blonde released him, crawling away from him just before his knees gave out and he dropped onto them clutching at a wound that had appeared in his front. Behind him was the bronze skinned woman who'd seemed ready to stab her when she'd come into the alley in the first place. Her weapon was now quite bloody and it wasn't a coincidence that Caela's attacker was leaking blood. A fluid that was also around the dancer's mouth as well as in it. It had dribbled from the side of her mouth while she'd been in her sideways position. It seemed to coat the inside as well, covering her tongue and teeth and she was sure that there were bits stuck in her teeth and they could only be pieces of one thing: flesh.

The blonde spat, clawing at her tongue as she tried to get rid of the traces of her foray into cannibalism. She'd actually bitten into another human being! It was disgusting and depraved, even if she had been desperate. It made her feel sick but she wasn't being given the chance to dwell on her vile behaviour. Her rescuer's voice had an edge to it that made the dancer obey immediately. She wasn't a woman to be trifled with, especially as she seemed more than capable of running a blade through someone. That was just plain scary. The fact that she also knew her name was unsettling enough to make her stand up. Still spitting, she remembered that Kechaiya had greeted her by name and that was no doubt how the wild woman had known it although Caela didn't know hers.

Her lost dagger was kicked her way to be retrieved and she snatched it up hurriedly, preparing herself to attack or defend. She watched as her rescuer set off for another target, the last one, who had found Arlana. The third assailant was stretched out dead in a pool of blood, apparently dealt with at the hands, or rather the blade, of the foreign woman. No doubt the last man standing would soon fall under her assault. She'd already gotten his attention, screaming at him like that and if she didn't managed to kill him then it was possible that Arlana would. She had a weapon and all she'd have to do was take advantage of his distraction. He seemed just a little bit smarter or maybe a bit more of a coward than his compatriots. His gaze had found the fallen forms of his companions, had caught sight of the bloodied blade and the woman with blood still lingering on her face and seemed ready to make a hasty retreat.
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