[Tall Johnny's] What Goes Up

[Kreig Messer]

35th of Spring, 518 AV, 9th bell. He needed more power, muscle power to be specific. That is what Kreig realized since the days he’d been fighting. Of course it wasn’t a new thought, but it was a frequently returning one nonethelees. Fact was despite his victories, they were by the skin of his teeth. Most of his blows only affected his opponents through sheer surprise along with dirty tactics and excessive brutality. Really other than that it meant his brawling was up to par. It isn’t a fight without a bit of excessive brutality after all. Buuuut it wasn’t brutal enough. He sighed to himself as he sat on his bed, his back leaning against the wall. Looking up at nothing in particular really, just gazing off into the distance as the thoughts of training made him want to groan. Yes, when he got it going right training tended to be quite good. Problem is the other half tof the time it was one of those tedious things you wished end quickly. Like how some bored Zeltivan child would wish a lesson to end, at least so he heard. He should have probably used his experience as squire instead. Oh look, his thoughts were wondering and now he was delaying the inevitable. He sighed, the responsible squire in him badgering about getting up and doing what must be done. He dressed simple for this, which reminded the brawler that he needed new clothing. Another thing to add to his very short to do list, wonderful. Considering that Kreig literally in a basement belowe Tall Johnny’s establishment, that meant there were stairs. That was the first of exercise, stair climbing. Funnily enough, Syliras taught Kreig that climbing stairs took twice the effort of normal walking. Going up was harder than simply walking a flat surface because one carried their weight with each step. One literally was exercising the lower half with the body with their mass as they climbed steps. Thus he would get more leg muscle for his body, thus he could kick better and that was just as important as punching. Also the entire exercise would prove a prelude to the other exercises he thought of doing. And so at the base of the steps he stood, gathering his resolve. He had to start small ultimately, since he need to warm himself up. Otherwise he’d pull a muscle, and that’s not fun….. So he lifted his right foot, placing it flat on the first step while he kept his left leg standing straight. Then he shifted his weight onto the right leg as he pulled up and placed his left foot flat upon the second. Then repeated at a casual, slow, pace, until he reached the top. Then he did the same thing going down. Except kind of in reverse, with each stepped down he kept the descending leg straight while the other was bent. Going down was not as difficult going up, but equally tedious in time spent. But Syliras wasn’t build in a day even though this wasn’t Syliras, it was Sunberth. Small detail really. Oh yes, this was going to annoy him.

[Kreig Messer]

Kreig tried to distract himself from his own stair climbing, which was as about as difficult as could be imagined as he did have to maintain sight upon the steps lest he wanted to fall and break his neck. It wasn’t as fun as swinging about his wooden sword, though that’s probably because he was at least USED to training with his swords. The slow pace of which he was moving did happen to cause him to sweat if slightly. His breathing became slightly heavier and strained as he took another go climbing the steps. He know his body warmed up enough that he could hasten the speed of his steps. Granted it would still be walking speed, but faster walking speed nonetheless. While his breath was slightly heavy he didn’t not quite the feel quite the same in his legs, those minutes of warming up not really putting the strain on his legs. It figured, he suppose since it was only the start. He reached the base of the steps once more, about to follow through on his increased pace. When he spotted Tall Johnny himself standing at the top as he looked up, and pausing for the moment. The man looked as he always did; Elegant. It felt like a constant whenever Kreig met tall Johnny, and he had to wonder if he’d ever catch the man looking otherwise. ‘Wouldn’t that be the gossip of all gossips?’ He thought with amusement ‘How would Johnny look like early in the morning anyway’ Briefly he imagined Johnny with broom hair, accented with those typical night gowns with those caps and fuzzy ball on the end. “Hey there, boss. Something I can help you with?” Kreig asked, since it wouldn’t have done good to not greet his employer. “Oh, nothing Kreig. I was merely curious as to what you were doing, you’ve been going back and forth upon the stairs for the last few minutes.” He answered friendlily enough. Kreig shrugged sheepishly, unaware that he was being watched that long “Oh, it’s just leg training, boss. I was only about to go on for about ten chimes more” Johnny nodded, satisfied by the answer apparently “Very well then, Kreig. But while I do enjoy the fact that one of my fighters is keeping themselves fit, next time could you try and perform such a training elsewhere? I’m sure others would enjoy climbing the stairs to perform their duties or to just get by, and your unintentional monopolization of it might not endear you to your coworkers” Kreig sighed, man had a poin much as he wished to argue otherwise. Still, he could at least use it for ten more chimes so after this he could bugger off to use his weights “Aye, sir. I’ll not let it happen again.” Besides, despite the wording it was an order, not a request. So next time he started training he’d probably have to do with taking a light run or some such. Satisfied, Tall Jonny disappeared out into the main hall of the casino, making sure everyone was doing their bit of cleaning and making sure everything was in shape for when the clientele arrived for their usual brand of entertainment. Kreig sighed, toe tapping the ridge of the steps. At least he could notch off stair climbing in future exercises, until another proper set of ‘em come along that were reasonably close. He climbed the steps again however, step by step, up and down, for the next ten chimes to get them out of the way. Those ten chimes felt unreasonably long to Kreig, though he did feel the burn so to say. His breathing became more strained, and his legs felt heavier as if more weight suddenly accompanied the tell-tale signs of physical strain on his leg. Still, despite the effort he felt it wasn’t enough. “Guess it’s time to hit the weights” He mumbled to himself, to that he was partially used to at least.

[Kreig Messer]

Before Kreig went to his rooms for his weights, he realized something. His room was dark. That put a bit of a damper on things he realized, because it wouldn’t have been wise to actually use his weights in the dark and he’d rather not having prying eyes if he were to leave the doors open for people to pry even if he could use illumination from the candles in the hall. Really, he’d have been off taking a run he began to feel. Then a bit of an idea occurred to him. Leaving the door to his room, Kreig moved to grab for his breastplate. Been a while since he actually wore this he realized, the heavy pieces of metal that would cover his front and back were useful in combat…. But he rarely had the need for them recently, he might need them in the furture though, and he did recall a piece of training from Syliras that would solve his problem here. Unlike back then however, he wasn’t going to be wearing a full suit, so he was reasonably certain he wouldn’t need help putting it on. Really, he just needed to slide it over his head and tighten the straps so it wouldn’t hang awkwardly off his body. It ended as quickly as it simply sounded. Feeling the weight of it brought back nostalgia truth be told, all that weight on him felt like a forgotten friend. He then fetched his vambraces, the added protection his forearms would need from a blade when blocking. That was more weight added, then came the grieves to be worn over the shin of his boots and reaching to his knees, even more weight and if he had to could give him a better kick. Then last but not least where his studded gauntlets, the pair of metal gloves with added weight sliding onto his hand as naturally as a pair of shoes. Oh wait, there was the helmet. Bah, forget it. Instead he reached for his wide brim hat and wool coat. The two pieces of apparel would at least make the look vaguely presentable although the coat itself might prove too much since it was spring and the weather could hardly be called cold. He was simply used to having it he supposed. He vaguely wondered if he should carry some money with him, he did receive pay after all. More than he was used to in quite a while truth be told, so from his back he pulled out a bit of currency and place it in his pocket. He might as well grab lunch on the way back. Finally, after much delaying of the inevitable Kreig left his room in the basement, went to the first floor, and through the door of the Casino outside to Sunberth proper. His body weighing heavily now, his eyes narrowed he began the training he’d done when in Syliras. He ran, in reasonably heavy armor. It was more a light jog really, at least the pace he was going. Kreig wasn’t really good at the whole running business after all, mainly because he usually didn’t avoid fights and when he did there was usually something to aid his escape… such as a copious amount of objects to toss in their way. His feet struck the ground heavily with each step, his arms to his side as the went lightly back and forth. With each step it felt like his feet were synchronized as when one touched the ground, full weight upon it, the other would rise up with the knee bent only to be lowered once again to trade places with the other. It all seemed to be running smoothly really, till he tripped and fell face first upon the ground “Ouch…” He mumbled, his nose stinging him slightly as well as his chin. Hands outstretched as they rested upon the dirt road, making him look more like a corpse than a person who fel. “Well, this is just embarrassing” He mumbled into the ground. Some things never changed it seem…

[Kreig Messer]

Evidently, what Kreig found embarrassing others found amusing. As the brawler pushed himself up, a gaggle of giggling women wandered past him, mouths covered by their hands while one was sparing no pretense as she just guffawed. Kreig acted dignified however, for he was a man of dignity. He would not be pt down as he resumed his jog through the dirt roads. Only when he was certain that the distance between himself and the giggle damsels, if they could be called that in Sunberth, were out of his earshot and himself out of their view did he sigh. Spectacular fighter he may be, graceful and dignified like Tall Johnny he was most certainly not. Still, he would not allow that to burden an already tedious exercise. As his legs wouldn’t take it if he added his emotional weight to his physical ones especially since they were already feeling the effort. It was like carrying another body in a way, or half it if he were honest with himself. Added weight the pieces of armor may be, a full body they are not. But it was doing the intended as it added effort to his movements. He contemplated wether he should purchase more pieces of armor, or simply get an entire suite of plate. Or he could have simply tied his weights to his wrists and legs, no need to waist money if he has the tools needed. His brows furrowed and he shuddered at the thought of spending a large amount of gold on plate armor, bad enough that they were difficult to wear in both time and effort spent. He need not spent the gold on it as well even if he was suddenly able to. And in practical terms it did paint a target upon his back. He shuddered again as his left foot stepped into a puddle, displacing water upon dirt and muddying his boot as he continued to move further. Kreig liked his disadvantageous odds but even he had his limit. His thoughts continued as he continued running, strain upon his legs steadying slowing him down without his realizing as sweat travelled down his brow and the pits of his arms were getting that wonderful feeling of being airy when air met with something wet. It was soon that Kreig realized that his own breath was becoming too heavy for his liking that found himself stopping at the nearest wall, forhead against arm, panting as he tried to collect himself…. The people he stopped next to were amused, especially one of them who proceeded to pull out a knife and move closer. Kreig did take note as his eyes glanced about when it had enough wits and ignored the stinging that came with sweat deciding to pay the eyes a visit. ‘Petchin’ course, this is Sunberth’ And he must have wandered into unfriendly territory. Oh well, he could do with a punching.

[Kreig Messer]

He raised a finger suddenly, surprising the knife wielding thug and his cohorts enough to forestall the inevitable mugging and the probable grievous harm upon his personage. Kreig turned about, resting his back against the wall, removing his hat and used it to wipe the sweat upon his brow and making sure the thugs get a view of his gauntlets. He had also used it as a chance to count down their numbers. There were four of them, he was glad to see. He could handle four fairly easily he imagined if they were the garden variety of thug. And looking exhausted and wearing no doubt fairly valuable armor made him look like a tempting and easy target if they did note the dry blood upon his gauntlets. Yes, he could work with this nicely. “Alright lads, jus’ lemme gather my breath an’ we can all talk…” He couldn’t finish that sentence before the knife man decided to try shutting him up from the get go by making a stab towards Kreig’s face. The brawler reacted as his left fist darted to grab the thug’s knife hand by the wrist and forced its trajectory to whiz by past his head. Showing the thug the folly of his error, Kreig proceed to knee the man in the stomach, satisfactory hearing the man let a gasp of pained breath as Kreig turned to the man’s side, grabbed the front and back of the man’s head with his hands and brought it down hard upon the same knee. Letting the man go, Kreig didn’t bother to watch it crumple as he knelt down to pick up his hat which had fallen upon the ground due to the brief battle. He looked upon the remainder of the thugs with a small smile on his face, gentle but no less vicious “Now, as I was saying gents. We can all talk this out an’ we all mostly walk unharmed. Or I give your friend some company in his dreams” He smiled friendlily enough. His blood was pumped and he’d hoped they’d take the bait. He unconsciously flexed his fingers, anticipating more fighting to come. Unfortunately it didn’t as one of them raised his hands in surrender “Woah, woah. We ain’t wantin’ any more trouble. Wasn’t realizin’ you was one of Tall Johnny’s” The man’s voice was nasally, as if someone punched the nose and it never sat right since. But its owner was calm albeit shaky, trying indeed to defuse it. Kreig’s brow quirked in surpise, he’d not expected to be recognized no matter how belatedly. It kind of disappointed him if it meant the end of a fight “Listen, we’ll jus’ take our friend an’ leave ya. Don’t want any problems yeah” He said, almost desperately as if expecting Kreig would be as maniacal as he was in the cages Kreig tsked, looking at the unconscious thug who’d tried to stab him, than looked back at the group and ran past them in a polite jog. He really wished he could’ve punched them, but a surrendering foe did leave the taste bitter….

[Kreig Messer]

He had to shake off his disappointment, fact that he encountered thugs with one of them very willing to try and stab his face meant he was very near the Reaches and by extention the Den. And with the Daggerhand’s power not quite up to its former self, the Den’s influence leaks out like a bad smell. The fact those thugs were willing to back down however likely meant they weren’t part of the Daggerhands, so he needn’t worry that he was on their list. He hoped. Kreig sighed as he continued his run, his heavy steps displacing dirt. He found his breath increasing back to that familiar out-of-breathness he’d just experiancee chimes earlier, so he decided to slow down till he was simply walking. May as well not burn out again after all. The brawler scratched the side of his face as his eyes gazed about, the metal tips of his gauntlets more blunt than the nails of his own fingers beneath them. He ended up at Shykeriver, or Mudriver to use the polite name. Though admittedly Kreig felt the former applied more than the latter considerning how much shyke is tossed in it, plenty of them in fact still within the bodies they’d been in. He removed his hat again to remove more sweat. His thoughts catching up to him. He was gaining renown, he’d known he would by fighting in the pits. He’d have to be a dunce not to; it painted a target upon his back in a way, some less than savory folk, and Kreig knew that was saying something, wouldn’t mind rigging fights outside the pits if it meant lining their pockets or if it meanta better chance for their fighters. That was risky of course for anyone who tries, because despite the brutality of the caged fights at Tall Johnny’s, there is a measurement of fairness to be followed. He forgot that it also brought him renown as a fighter. For as much as he thought it painted a target on his back, it was also a shield. There was going to be those who’d be afraid to mess with him especially against someone like Kreig who fought for fun especially if it was mixed with survival. For someone with a weapon against Kreig, all they would need is that one good hit in to finish him permanently. Question was would they get it in, and if they did would they able to finish him instantly? His brain jumbled the thoughts as he crossed over the river via the bridge, the thing was probably sturdier in its construction than over half the houses here. Kreig took off his hat again as he crossed over, running a hand through his hair as he now realized he was near the Gated Community and Riverside. He shouldn’t expect any Dragoon’s here, though he wondered about the Night Eyes. Sun’s Birth and Daggerhand may have had different styles, but they were both brutal. The Night Eyes could be brutal too, but not in the way you’d see it. Kreig had no beef with the Night Eyes, fact was he never met a member, and he’d rather not too. They were kinda like the Kenashian Dynasties, looking all civil up to but playing against each other underneath. It wasn’t a perfect comapirson but he reckoned the Night Eyes were the ones who prided on not getting caught. Kreig shook his thoughts of the gangs now, if time comes that he has to worry about them then he’ll wory about them then. Instead he pondered if he should continue on and take his running through the heights or just go back where he came? His toes tapped against the dirt as he rested his hat on his face, keeping a grip on it, as he closed his eyes and wondered. At the moment, Kreig felt something in his pocket, and whatever it was it most definitely a wiggly sort. Kreig stilled, feeling it begin to move slightly away until it too stilled as if there was realization. In reaction, Kreig’s hand darted, metal fingers wrapping around a wrist as he lifted his hat from his face and glanced his eyes downward, turning his neck to get a view behind him. “Ya know, kiddo. That there ain’t a healthy way to make a living if all yer gonna do is get caught”

[Kreig Messer]

The kid in question looked to be a boy, short dark hair, somewhere just over 4 feet in height so perhaps between ten and thirteen. The kid were clothing that was too big for their size certainly, a large shirt that reached the knees with the sleeves torn off, pants with their sleeves rolled up and apparently shoes where not a thing available. He’d no doubt the child was scrawny underneath, and the skin was dirty although that was nothing special of note. Nine-tenth of Sunberth needed a bath and they didn’t bathe daily, in fact he was one of the nine-tenths… The kid was startled, afraid no doubt. Caught in the act and no one to save him, Kreig didn’t care for that right now. What he did care about was how sunken the kid’s cheeks looked hollow, didn’t need to be a genius to wonder if he’d been eating right. Kreig knelt down till he was face to face with the kid, eyes scared and wondering if they should let out a scream. Kreig wouldn’t know, he didn’t exactly grow up a street urchin who wanted to avoid violence. In fact he had a loving mother and he was a brat who had a healthy liking for picking fights. Perfectly healthy. “H-hey, lemme go. Else I’m gonna shout” Kreig’s brow rose with amusement, distracted from his thoughts again “You pick my pocket an’ ya think I’ll let ya go jus’ like that?” Kreig asked, letting out a light humorless chuckle “You’re not exactly a smart one, eh?” The kid’s face turned red his brows furrowing an angry about to retort and force his hand away. Only for Kreig to suddenly let go, silencing the child with surprise but anger on his face. “How much you need?” “Wha-?” “I said how much you need” Kreig repeated, hand dipping into his pocket to pull out the Miza he carried” The child was well and truly silent by now. Kreig wasn’t paying much attention as he pulled out a couple of gold and looked at it, one was more than enough really. He looked up at the kid, his face not registering anything except confusion and wondering ‘is this real? Is this person touched in the head’. Well, at least Kreig assumed the kid was thinking him crazy, but really his limit on moral things to ignore had been reached and he really needed an excuse to get out of running, he probably did enough today anyway. His feet burned like a bonfire darn it. “Probably a good time for some food anyway” Kreig said anyway, standing up and flicking toward one gold miza at the lad “Here, take this if you want. And follow me if you want something to eat” Kreig said. He wondered if that was enough to convince the kid, if it wasn’t it was no skin off his back…. …ok, it was. It really was. He’d just given a kid a slap on the wrist and one gold miza. Yahal and Dhira both if that kid didn’t follow him he’d be feeling stupid. But as he took a chime walking away, he glanced back and was pleased to know that the boy was following him. ‘Alright, I’ll bite. What’s with youth with too much curiousity in this town?! Are people drinking from shykecreek again?’ But he could work with this, he could. He’ll verbally beat some common sense into him after he made sure the kid had something to eat first.