Flashback Eye for an Eye {Khal'iah}

[Hadyn Skellig]

34th of Winter, 512 22nd Bell "Get yer drunk arse out o' my shop," Hadyn exclaimed, stabbing her finger at the nearest exit as she glared insistently. The man before her drunkenly teetered closer, the grimace on his sweaty face indicating he had no such intention. "Tha' rat bastard Yor'k did a piss poor job on me blades and ye owe me two - nay, three new ones," he grumbled loudly, displaying the weapons haphazardly for her to see. They'd been back and forth on the same issue twice now and he failed to understand the shop was closed and Hadyn would do nothing for him at this hour in his state. "Put those damn daggers in m'face again an' I'll skin you with them," she returned viciously, striding to the door and holding it open. Her dark eyes watched him intently, blood pressure rising with each tick. He'd stumbled in only a few chimes earlier, drunker than a sailor and absolutely convinced the weapons he'd purchased from another smith at Sultros were defective. The woman's patience was threadbare by now trying to reason with him so she was left with tossing him out. The man lurched forward to touch her - shake the daft woman by her shoulders to help her understand why it was so imperative that she examine the accursed daggers. But Hadyn hardly saw his point. As he moved toward her, hands grasping, she took a step back and pulled the door open wider. Unable to process her departure readily enough the drunk took a step into thin air before stepping over the threshold. The momentum he achieved and the lack of a body in his grasp caused him to trip forward into the dark street. Hadyn was ready to close the door on him but he whipped around quicker than she anticipated, thudding his shoulder into the door and growling some obscenity. Unprepared for his entire weight to be thrown against her the woman took an unsteady step back, the man crashing into the smithy once more as his feet scrabbled for purchase as the door swung open again. The blacksmith attempted to move out of his way and reach for the door again but he caught her ankle and yanked it toward him. Thrown off balance, she hit the floor heavily only to respond reflexively, kicking the man in the face with all the force she could manage. "Get... the... petch...out, you piece of shyke' drunk!" she breathed with a snarl as she half crawled half clambered away from his howling form. Gods, what she wouldn't do to have a Knight come by.

[Khal'iah]

'S-Shyke...it's so petching cold...' was the only coherent thought the tall, foreign male was able to form. Once again, the chill of winter, his eternal nemesis, had found him out whilst he wandered the frosted streets of the capital. His boots trudged through inches of snow, filling his ears with the din of crunching as he moved along. Being that he was woefully new to the fortress of peace, the foreigner was completely and utterly lost...once again. A simple hunt for a warm tavern and a tankard of ale had turned into a frigid, aimless walk throughout the streets of the city. However, fate would have it that his hopeless wandering would place him within a stone's throw of the altercation unfolding within Sultros Arms. Although the foreign man was far from being a member of the esteemed Syliran Knights, he certainly was armed like one: and this fact would undoubtedly come in handy in light of the current situation... 'What is this...a break in? It's too petching cold for this shyke.' growled the man to himself, changing his heading and trudging over to the open door. From underneath the embrace of his brown, hooded cloak, the male's sword hand found its way to rest upon the hilt of the longsword hanging upon his belt and loosed it from its slumber. With the sweet symphony of steel sliding against leather, the blade entered the cold, night air and was brandished before the warrior as he approached the establishment as quietly as possible (which was entirely a losing battle seeing as though the crunch of his boots was loud enough to wake the dead...) "Hello?" inquired the foreigner, purposefully elevating his voice to a loud, confident tone in an attempt to spook the culprit, "What's going on here?" That said, the warrior's offhand reached for his hood, jostling the buckler fastened to his wrist in the process. With a quick movement, he revealed his face, and unique complexion, so that those within could see (and also to get the petching hood out of his field of vision). To whomever was committing the crime, such an appearance was sure to inspire fear; not only was the man armed and dangerous, but his complexion was a dark violet, almost black in the darkness. The foreigner was an Akalak, raised from birth in the path of the warrior; and if the culprit recognized this fact it would be one of the many things that would encourage him to cease and desist. The Akalak, born to the name Khal'iah Vojak, took a quick glance of the unfolding scene and ascertained what was going on. The man, currently howling upon the floor, must have muscled his way in for some reason and was assaulting the woman whom was crawling away. Without delay, the Akalak extended his offhand to the woman in order to assist her in getting to her feet as swiftly as possible while simultaneously guiding her form behind him. In this way, she would come to stand behind the Akalak, giving him room to confront the bastard writhing upon the floor. "You there!" the warrior would boldly proclaim once the woman was upon her feet, "I'll give you this opportunity to leave in one piece..."

[Hadyn Skellig]

Finally it seemed the commotion alerted the attention of someone - preferably a Knight. A hand reached toward her, Hadyn's face tilting upward as she instinctively accepted. He pulled her up and it wasn't until she was on her feet that she realized he was how truly fearsome he appeared. But he was already moving her behind him and addressing the drunkard. Steadying herself on her feet the blacksmith took stock of the scene. The man who'd so boldly come to her aid was of an Akalak, a race not terribly familiar to Hadyn. She knew of them, even catching glimpses of the occasional Akalak Knight milling around the city, but she'd never met one. For his part the drunk was heaving himself vertical, but leaning heavily on the door frame as he dumbly gaped. Obviously he wasn't expecting an interference, especially by a particularly intimidating Akalak. He blubbered some nonsense about shoddy daggers before succumbing to silence, mouth slightly agape as he waited for the other man to speak. Hadyn did her best not to step around the warrior and push the precariously balanced drunk out the door and into the street. "I best be goin', then" he finally murmured to no one in particular. He cast the woman a dirty glare before stepping back into the street, his footing as unsteady as his voice. Throwing an arm at the place he dismissed the venture with a few muttered oaths before haphazardly stumbling down the dark lane. Once he was out of sight, Hadyn stepped around to face the Akalak, her face flushed from the experience. With an appreciative grin, she gave him the once over before extending her hand. "Thank you," she stated. "Y'saved me a headache."

[Khal'iah]

It did not take long for the drunkard to succumb to the intimidating presence and threats of the foreign warrior. He, at first, attempted to reason with the Akalak; stammering on about sub-par daggers. However, he ceased this frivilous venture upon meeting the wrathful expression of the violet-skinned warrior and took that as his queue to vacate the premises. Once he brushed past and entered the frigid streets, heading off to go about his "very, merry" way, the warrior sheathed his weapon. However, this motion proved to be a slight chore due to his proximity to the various items and tools on display all about him, and he had to carefully maneuver himself as to not collide his blade with any of the woman's property. Admittedly, his height coupled with the length of his blade made indoor situations like this a hassle for the Akalak, but it wasn't something he put much thought to on a regular basis. Once his longsword was secured upon his belt, the warrior faced the woman who had extended her hand. He took it within his own and offered a firm shake, coupled with a warm grin. "You're most welcome," he replied to her expression of gratitude, "I'm just glad I got here in time before someone got hurt." With that said, he relinquished his hold upon the woman's hand and crossed the space between them to close the shop door, thereby stifling the chill that had crept within. "I," he began, selecting his words carefully, "don't mean to sound forward, but it is beyond freezing outside and I'd like to ask permission to thaw just a tad before I return to Morwen's embrace. May I warm up for just a few moments?" The Akalak had no intention of troubling the woman with his presence for long, but as he had said, it was freezing outside... Cold and Khal'iah don't mix.

[Hadyn Skellig]

Hadyn nodded while shutting the door against the cold, indicating with a wave of her arm that he move further into the shop. The fire from the adjacent smithy kept the shop quite warm, the various candles offering a soft glow. The woman moved past him to pull out a chair from behind the counter if he should wish to sit. Stepping back to the counter, she crossed her arms and leaned the small of her back against its edge, regarding the Akalak. "You from 'round here?" She was grateful for his intervention, a polite smile on her lips. The drunkard was a memory, the ire she'd felt earlier all but dissolved. It wasn't the first time she'd had to deal with an angry inebriated man but she much preferred this outcome to past ones. Crossing one ankle over the other, she adopted a relaxed countenance, her interest in the man's sudden appearance evident in her expression.

[Khal'iah]

Although the woman before him spoke nothing in response to his inquisition, her subsequent actions were louder than any words the violet-skinned warrior cared to hear. She first motioned for him to move further within the shop with a wave of her arm, inviting him to situate himself closer to the establishment's source of warmth. Khal'iah did just that and strode across the smithy in a few long, confident strides before coming to a halt before the roaring fireplace. Before the warrior could even come to a squat in order to warm his hands before the flames, the woman went a step further and procured him a seat. Now this was generosity! With his warm smile ever growing, the Akalak seated himself within the chair, scooted it a tad closer to the fire, and extended his hands forward as to receive the wonderful warmth. Once he had gotten situated, the woman posed a question to him. Turning his attention from the dancing flames and onto her, he responded with a polite tone. "No ma'am, I'm from nowhere near here. I hail from Riverfall, within the neighboring Cyphrus Region." He paused before adding, "My name is Khal'iah Vojak, by the way. It's a pleasure to make your acquaintance, though I would have much liked to meet you under better circumstances...might I ask your name?" That said, he flexed his fingers before the fire and awaited her response.

[Hadyn Skellig]

Hadyn watched him take the seat, her expression serene. In truth she wasn't terribly shaken by earlier events. It wasn't the first time she'd thrown a drunkard out but tonight's outcome was significantly more pleasing than past experiences. Shifting her weight as she leaned her upper body against the counter, the blacksmith waited a tick before responding. "Hadyn. Well met," she replied smoothly, cupping her chin in the palm of one hand. "Riverfall. Sure 'n I've never been much beyond these walls. What brings y'to the city o' Peace?" Despite the slightly cynical tone to her voice the blacksmith offered a loose smile. She was intrigued by this man's story, her desire to learn about the world beyond Syliras not often entertained. She was a quiet woman by nature but there was an opportunity to indulge the curious side and he sat there seemingly willing.

[Khal'iah]

When the violet-skinned warrior heard the cynical edge the woman's voice carried, in regards to the so-called "City of Peace", he could not help but laugh and chuckle aloud. It was quite humorous to the male, for he had been within the Fortress City for only a handful of days and now been involved in two altercations involving drunk patrons. "A more apt title," he began, shaking his head whilst chuckles still escaped him, "would be City of Drunks." Khal'iah reveled in his amusement for a moment more and let out a large sigh with a smile. "Now then," he began, turning his chair so that he did not have to strain his neck looking over to the woman, "what brings me to the 'City of Peace'..." His hands, now warm and toasty from exposure to the roaring fire, rubbed together absently whilst he collected his thoughts. There was no "good" answer as to why he had chosen Syliras as his destination, but he offered his best explanation. "Well, to answer that question, I'd have to give you a little insight on what it means to be an Akalak. Men of my age are expected to follow a certain path. It has been laid out by our ancestors and has been dutifully followed for generations. We are expected to marry, to sire sons, and to ultimately vie for a position within Riverfall's Council of Elders...or at least, that's what my Father has always ground into my skull." he paused, folding his arms across his chest before continuing. "But that...isn't for me. I have no intention of settling down for the rest of my days and trying to get elected into a dusty council. No, I wish to see the world and all that's within it. I want to freely travel and learn about all that Mizahar has to offer...so I left home. I guess, in particular, I came to Syliras because I've heard great things about it. I also wanted to meet a Knight or two." He then extended his hand to Hadyn, transitioning from the attention being placed upon him and dropping it on her. "What about you? What brings you here to this City of Drunks?"

[Hadyn Skellig]

The blacksmith listened, completely enrapt in his explanation. Her chin pressed against curled knuckles as she leaned forward, a loose smile on her lips when he corrected her assessment of Syliras. City of Drunks was far more appropriate. Ducking her head to brush loose strands behind one ear, the woman then stood up straight as he inquired after her. "Bein' that I'm often a drunk m'self, I s'ppose it'll come as no surprise Syliras is my home," she replied with a charming grin. "Born 'n raised." Hadyn watched him for a moment longer, her composure relaxed and visage amicable now that there was peace again. After a moment of silence, the woman moved away from the counter, coming near Khal'iah. Crouching down, she stirred the fire with the poker, settling the coals. Straightening, she turned to face him again. "I'm much obliged for your help earlier," Hadyn intoned quietly, her brown eyes watching him. The firelight cast an ethereal glow on his dark skin, his exotic countenance intriguing her. Hadyn returned the iron staff to its holder near the fire and crossed her arms behind her back before regarding him. "How can I repay you?"

[Khal'iah]

"Ah, I see. Well, it must be quite interesting to call this city, despite its drunk populous, home." he said, returning the woman's charming grin with a warm smile of is own. From there, a silence ruled the both of them as the blacksmith abandoned her position behind the counter and proceeded to stoke the flames with the fireplace's iron staff. The Akalak was immensely grateful for this action, as he much preferred the heat to the cold. It was then that the woman faced him, her arms crossed behind her back, and inquired about how she could repay him for his assistance earlier. In response to this, the Akalak raised his hands and shook his head. "Ah..." he began, about to decline any sort of repayment and claim that thawing out by the fire was more than enough. Yet the opposing side of the coin known as Khal'iah stirred, voicing his opinion where it was not wanted nor needed. He, the second and darker soul within the Akalak's body, was always watching; even when the violet-skinned warrior was not aware. 'Don't waste this opportunity you fool.' hissed the voice in the rear of the warrior's psyche. Khal'iah's hands lowered for a moment and he regarded his dark sibling with an impatient tone. 'Ha'lik, now is not the time.' he said in that odd, mental voice that sounded nothing like his normal tone. 'Just hear me out you fool.' spat Ha'lik in return. 'Unlike you, I pay attention when directions and descriptions are given...earlier, when you were asking about on how to get to the Inn, you were told about this establishment. It's one of the finest marks for blades and armor in all of Syliras. This woman works here. She could probably get you a massive discount, or better yet get you a free blade.' Khal'iah felt conflicted about this and was still about to decline any repayment, but Ha'lik's final point finally swayed him. 'Remember when you nearly knocked over some of the goods on display with that longsword of yours? Now would be the perfect opportunity to invest in a smaller, supplementary blade. Yes, we have our Lakan, but this blade will be the middle ground between dagger and longsword: just go for it!' "Well..." Khal'iah began, the mental war now concluded in the favor of his darker half, "this may be a tad outlandish and sudden of a request but...I know this establishment sells the finest quality blades and armor. As you saw earlier, it was a tad difficult to wield my longsword indoors and I've been thinking about investing in a shorter weapon for quite some time...Perhaps, I could...erm...get a discount?" His smile wavered for a moment, as he was certain the woman would eject him from the establishment and into the cold of night for dare asking such a thing.