Open Sunberthian Soiree [Open]

[Dalavesta Stalinsa]

Dalavesta Stalinsa

3rd Summer 522 AV – No Man’s Land Tavern

Sunberth was a strange place, she had learned that over the years she admitted as she trudged her way down the streets towards what would become her watering hole for the night – perhaps Bron’s too if she got off of work early enough, she had left a message with her friend…the helpful one whose name she could never remember, though she could remember the ass well enough. She had been reasonably good over the past score of days, not being found in the gutter anywhere and trying her best not to get too numbed of the pain from alcohol. Yet, for all of her efforts, the need scratched at her inside, like a fingernail patiently, and stubbornly, scratching over and over again, knowing it had the ability to wait out her stubborn resistance eventually. She had no plans to get plastered, but the siren song of social celebration called to her.

The city itself seemed to sing to her, as well as the rest of its denizens, of happy times and celebrations galore. Everyone was getting in on it, even dancing in the streets for as long as that lasted before they were mugged, shanked or otherwise taken advantage of. As she turned a corner, sticking close to the half-rotten wooden wall and peering around out before stepping onwards, Ves supressed a shudder at the memories that threatened to creep up on her and distract her street sense. So many things had happened over the years it would have been normal that they blended together, yet the didn’t – no they stood apart from each other, each one as dingy and grubby as the other.

Shut up Ves, celebrations…that’s the thing…the past is the past…the future is better…much better she told herself as she paused in her trudging, turning her head slightly to help her hearing, listening intently behind her and hearing nothing, a precaution she had picked up since Spring and its events.

The ticks dragged on as her hand held the grip of her longsword, ready just in case, but as ticks continued and nothing happened she let her fingers fall away and continued her trudging towards the No Man’s Land Tavern. The city had been strange of late, that much was obvious, and as such she was growing suspicious of most things. A brief flickering of memory from Syliras, so many years past, gave her a glimmer of a time when things were simpler and filled with devotion over suspicion…but such times were long gone. She had accepted that, and in a strange irony finding Bron had helped her with that – they could remember the good things, whilst still knowing how dark things could be. Purity…it was only so good as the environment it was in, and when it was crushed…well it was inevitable in places like Sunberth.

“Don’t start no trouble” the bouncer informed her as she stepped towards the threshold finally, pointing at the hilt of her sword with a scowl.

“I know the drill, only thing that gets started is by someone else. This is for finishing it”

“Your funeral, this is a grey place, neutral…you get that?”

“I’m just here for the party, you want troublemakers to rough up find someone else” she stated firmly, meeting the giant of a man’s eyes and not looking away, keeping up the stare with a set jaw until they seemed satisfied and waved her through.

Stepping into the interior she felt the warmth of the hearths, roaring and dispersing the chill even as they lit up the gloom within hardly at all, and she shifted her cloak so that it was more open, letting in the warmth to dry her clothing of its damp. Scarping her boots upon a wooden strut, taking off some of the mud, she made her way to a corner that looked less populated as far as her sight could make out in the gloom. Her sword came off and was rested against the table, a serving girl approaching her and taking her order of ale and something small to snack upon. Settling into her chair, nursing her mug once it was brought to her, she peered over the clientele she had just joined, noticing the many insignias and colours the showed just how diverse the patrons were.

“Petching neutral bliss…makes my palms itch more than gang places….at least there you know the enemy” she muttered into he tankard before taking a long swallow and wiping her mouth.


Words - 753

[Brisa]

"Another beer, I think", Kane announced, throwing a brotherly arm across Brisa's shoulders and cursing as he pricked himself on her spiked collar. Even after stopping at two taverns he wasn't drunk yet, but he was close. The feeling through the bond was indistinct and dampened, but his high spirits still managed to leak through.

The Kelvic nodded eagerly, smiling to see her bonded in such rare good humour. She was rewarded with a rough, affectionate scrub of his palm against her shaved scalp.

The whole city was bubbling with a festive atmosphere, with drink and drugs flowing feely through every eager hand. The nights were full of wild celebration, and the morning full of news of another brawl, another bonfire gotten out of hand, another drunken stabbing. Brisa loved the energy but didn't trust it. She hadn't left Kane's side since she felt the city release its collective breath as Spring came to a close.

"Where?" she asked, jogging half a step to check a corner before Kane could round the bend. Funds were tight for the pair. They were hitting every tavern they could to take advantage of the free round of beer, take part in a rowdy song or two, and maybe grope a barmaid in Kane's case, before moving to fresher waters.

"Here!", the man announced as he came up behind her, palms out like he was witnessing something holy.

It looked like every other tavern in the city; rough, weatherbeaten, holding up a tired and sagging roof and belching smoke with every rough stumbling back out into the street.

"No Man's Land Tavern", Kane went on, motioning her forward towards the door. "This used to be my haunting ground before Goldfinger picked me up. It's a no-territory zone. The gangs mean jack shyke here. Here a man can drink in peace."

What a fairytale, Brisa thought, eyeing the place with suspicion. She didn't know the gangs or their disputes well, but she knew their blood ran too hot to ignore rivals in a shared space. She wondered how this place actually stayed so neutral.

The interior held no clues. Brisa blinked as they stepped inside, her eyes adjusting to the wide space that the oil lamps were struggling to illuminate. A familiar smell of pipe smoke and cheap beer was as comfortable as an old cloak as it settled over her. She rubbed the sole of her foot up the inside of her calf, scrapping off the worst of the dried mud. The hearth did much to warm her through her thin tunic.

"Weapons?" The bouncer at the door demanded. Kane flicked open his cloak, annoyed to be stalled this close to their goal, to show the hilt of his sword. The man then nodded at Brisa. "She a Kelvic?"

"Astute observation."

Brisa flinched at Kane's sarcastic tone, and her eyes flew to the bouncer. She touched Kane’s sleeve, ready to pull him behind her should his mouth run away with him.

"What kind?"

"The dog kind.”

The bouncer stared long and hard at Kane. After a tense moment he jerked his chin to tell them to move on. The muscles in Brisa's arms unspooled.

Kane hissed under his breath, but brightened up considerably as they approached the bar. "Hammer! My man. How about a round for me and my friend?", he said as he waved down the biggest man Brisa had ever seen. If the barman was annoyed by the familiarity it didn't show. He nodded distractedly and within moments two pints where sloshed down onto the counter.

"First drink is on the house."

Brisa didn't drink, but she picked up the beer anyway. She would give it to her bonded when his own ran dry.

Kane wandered away immediately, and Brisa watched him go. He didn't like her hoovering when he was trying to have a good time. Taking her drink she followed the wall to the least populated corner, where she could have a good view of the whole room to watch over her bondmate while she waited for him to finish.

But as she was keeping an eye on where her bonded was she wasn't watching where she was going. Her smallest toe collided with something in the gloom, and Brisa's hand reached out automatically to catch what she felt slipping off the table it was leaning against. It took her moments to realize she had caught the hilt of a sword.

She let go immediately, letting the thing crash to the ground rather than let a stranger think she was about to lift their weapon.

"Sorry", she coughed, looking around at who she had disturbed.

It was a woman. She was seated at a table, alone, nursing at a tank of beer. The knotted, angry scars looked frighteningly out of place on her pale, feminine face. Red hair and chainmail glittered in the dull light. Brisa noted dark circles and grey eyes before her own eyes dropped. There was a strange look in them. She wasn't sure, but even with the celebration around them the woman seemed almost... distant, demoralized.[/indent]

[Bronwen]

Bron opened the front door of Brega's at the end of her shift, eager to leave, only to come up short as Hadrian, a fellow guard, came bustling through the open doorway, nearly knocking Bron off her feet.

"Woah there, Bronnie Boo," Hadrian said, grabbing Bron by the shoulders to steady her, "where you off to like a cat with its tail on fire?"

Bron scowled and shoved a hand into the man's shoulder, "Don't call me that, Haddy," she scolded, but couldn't hide the grin growing on her lips.

Bronwen liked Hadrian a lot, and the pair had become pretty good friends over the last couple of Summers. Bron watched Hadrian's back, and Hadrian watched hers. It was a good working relationship.

Bron squinted playfully up at the fellow guard, one of few people that was actually taller than she was, "Why? You gonna stop me?"

Hadrian adopted a look of feigned terror, "And pick my arse up in pieces? Never!"

Bron shook her head and shoved past the bigger man, "I'm headed to the tents," she said, throwing a wink over her shoulder, "I'm thinking I'll spend the night with my lady since I'm off tomorrow."

"Dalavesta? She ain't home. Just seen her go into that tavern," Hadrian threw a thumb over his shoulder that may or may not have been in the direction of this tavern, "uh, No Man's Land, yeah, that one, not half a bell ago."

Bron frowned at the news, nodding half heartily at the other guard. Why would Dalavesta go to a tavern of all places? Ves had done very well with staying clear of drinking anything harder than spiced cider, just as Bron had stayed clear of...she shook her head. Let's not think about that.

Still frowning, the guard turned away from Brega's and headed in the direction of No Man's Land. It was about a fifteen-chime walk south from the brothel to the tavern if one walked pretty fast, and only idiots didn't walk pretty fast in Sunberth. Especially a woman walking alone. Bron pulled up the hood of her dark cloak, ensuring all her long hair was hidden beneath, and pulled her quarterstaff out from its spot between her shoulder and pack, using it as a walking stick.

See, walking and thinking wasn't a strong suit for Bronwen Druva. She was scattered-brained at the best of times, but having a mind full up of trying to figure out why Dalavesta's sobriety was suddenly off the table had Bron plum oblivious, and dangerously so, to her immediate surroundings.

This is why Bron didn't notice the tail she picked up the tick she stepped out of Daggerhand territory. It wasn't until she heard the splash of her boots crashing into a mudpuddle mimicked a chime later that her attention diverted to where it should be. Was someone following her? She made a sharp turn down a short alley, ears straining to hear if the one behind her did the same. A quick glance cast over her shoulder indicated that they did.

Bron was being followed, and the realization had her heart rate ratcheting up. As soon as she stepped free of the alleyway, Bron turned left and picked up her pace. Behind her, the cloaked figure did likewise, and Bron cursed, looking for a doorway, or store, anywhere she might detour through, but nothing was open. How exactly late was it?

There was a lone figure on the road ahead of her, a man, Bron thought, doing his best to dodge the craters of mud dotting the wheel-rutted pathway. Bron's long legs sped up even faster, obliging her pursuer's pace to take on a jogging lope just as another figure merged from the shadows to join her tail. Shyke. Shyke. Shyke. Bron had to do something and fast.

Tucking the quarterstaff back in place across her back, Bron started out at a slow run, "Hey, wait up," she called out to the man in front of her.

When the stranger stopped and turned back to look her way, Bron ran up and grabbed his arm, leaning in to whisper, "I'm being followed by two men, play along." She leaned in to kiss his cheek to cover the whisper but caught the man's lips instead.

Bron shot a startled glance down to the stranger's lips, then up to his eyes, and actually blushed, "Sorry," she said quietly, then louder, added, "it's good to see you! Thank you for inviting me to go to No Man's Land with you."

Bron grimaced at how animated her voice sounded even to her ears. Her followers would know she was bullshyking them, but hopefully, this stranger would at least play along long enough to get her to Ves.

Bron lowered her voice again, "I think they are drug dealer's goons, out for revenge." she paused, then admitted, "I think I may have killed one of their fellows two seasons ago after they..well, doesn't matter." she threw a quick glance over her shoulder, "Just be my company until we get to the tavern and I think they'll leave me be."