Closed [Kelp Bar] You!

[Pulren Marsh]

Fourteenth of Spring, AV 514
Twenty first bell

OOCNo posting order needed, to reflect the chaos of the bar. Of course, respect others and chronology, but otherwise drink and duck!

As night rolled in like the tide, so did the many patrons of the Kelp Bar roll in like a wave of rotten kelp. No, that was the beer, but there were many people in the bar, as far as Pulren could tell. The din in the small, dimly lit place was louder than the docks when the merchant barges rolled in with new supplies for the hungry of Zeltiva. Sailors and citizens alike filled the room to near capacity, a lone table with three empty chairs the only place to sit. Laughter and insults flew through the air like sea gulls. The staff was as busy as ever.

Pulren glugged down his second tankard of the kelp, its smell still stinging his nostrils. Just because Zeltivans were accustomed to the only staple that wasn't rationed, it didn't make them sniff and taste it. You just drank it down until you didn't care about it anymore. He was getting there, but the scent had the extra bonus of reminding of him of Uncle Pal, who almost always stunk of it. He raised his mug to the air before finishing it off. "To you, Uncle Pal! May your salty bones roll in the tide!" He finished it off and fished out a miza for another pair of mugs. Training had been tough and he wanted another four or five forgets.

That's when he heard a swell of laughter from a table of sailors. "Are ye kiddin me?! Look, lads, it's Pal's little pal. Come over here, ye little shyke. We gots some fish te scrape and NOBODY scrapes fish like Pal's little Pal!" If smoke could leave Pulren's nostrils, it would have, rolling over the bar. A fist full of the drink duo, he spun on his heel to face the table of sailors, their faces just familiar enough to bring his blood to a boil. The faces of those who would jump in with Pal at Pulren's expense and the same that probably helped his uncle to a fairly early grave in Winter. A spilling swig and Pulren was tracing a curving line toward the table.

[Gale Austin McCenry]

Why can't you stay out of this place Gale? You always end up here. "Bored." He mumbled. Isn't there some place better you can hang out when you're bored? Isn't there something better you can do than to drink with a bunch of strangers? "Probably not." He muttered under his breath again. You could always draw again, or you could go for a walk- Oh! Hey! You can learn to swim! That's why the crew left you behind, right? Because you couldn't swim. He supposed that was the reason. That and he was no sword master. Well, no one can blame you. After all, you've been doing it ever since Hana died. Why stop now, right?

Gale set his mug down at the table he was at. He usually sat at the counter, however, the Kelp Bar was packed tonight and all the stools at the table were taken when he joined the group. Instead, he sat with three other men. They were playing a card game of sorts. It was called- um. What was it again? Ports? Pirates? No, Portraits! Gale didn't exactly understand, but he never understood card games at all. That and he only just arrived at the Kelp Bar a few chimes ago and had only been watching since then. They were being dealt cards and they were seeming to be given more cards until they either won or lost. How they won or lost, Gale had no idea, though he didn't want to bother with asking.

"Haha! I win again!" The more ruthless gambler cried. He had won almost every game since Gale had got here.

"Oh, Harvey, shut your trap!" Another one hollered. "Why don't you deal since you keepa winning, huh?"

"What? Don't want to play no more? Ha! Fine, I'll deal this round." The group passed their cards to the pile and Harvey started to shuffle the deck with ease.

But before they got started, a man cried out a toast to a private matter, it seems, and a group of sailors called him out on it. It was a rather nasty reply, so it was a given that the man, probably drunk like half the occupants here, would get upset. As a matter of fact, he seemed furious.

Now, Gale was usually a peaceful guy. Yes, he had a temper about him and he often got to yelling, but he tried his best not to get physical by any means. With this being the Kelp Bar however, and with the young man looking like he was out to get somebody, it seemed like a fight was inevitable. Gale really didn't want to be in any fight. He had enough of those.

"Oh bloody Ssena." Gale rolled his eyes, standing up. "Let us not make this a big deal, gentlemen!" He cried to the group, hoping it would catch their attention.. He made his way almost nimbly around the ones who were seated and standing. "After all, I am certain all of us are here to have a good time, no?" He stood beside the infuriated manPulren who had spoken about Pal was it?

Gale wasn't anything intimidating, no, not by any means. As a matter of fact, he was a good two inches shorter than the man he had approached and he was hardly anything but skin and bones it appeared. But likely being one of the most sober men in the bar, Gale figured he could figure something out. He hadn't even finished his first mug while the men who were arguing had who knows how many. Nevertheless, that probably meant nothing, since drunk men were often more dangerous than somber ones. But also more easily distracted. Right?

"Come on lad, why not join us in a game of cards?" If the man chose to ignore Gale, the artist would then press his hand against his chest and pushing himself in front of the stranger. If he didn't, he would simply stare at him with a smile of sorts. But no matter what he did, he would still say,"Portraits I believe. Ever played?"

Dear Priskil, don't let there be a fight tonight.

[Pulren Marsh]

It was funny how kelp smelled worse when it turned to steam. It was boiling over inside Pulren's body, valves and gaskets spewing through like the brewers' contraptions. The trio of sailors seemed to brighten up and their eyes widened with delight as the younger man took their bait. Now they reeled him in for what they believed would be a vicious beating. Pulren didn't care if they killed him, but it would be wit more dignity than they were worth.

All of a sudden, his progress was halted by another, a smaller man who put himself directly in the path of Pulren's rage. His face was kind and his eyes seemed to plead for the return of good times. The steam pumping through Pulren's ears escaped for a moment and he blinked, finding himself woozy as he tried to make the man's words out. Cards. "Cards." Pulren said it too, as if it was a word that every person should know. The tankards felt heavy, so he decided to lighten their load a bit, placing them on the table and coming back with one to swill, the kelp happy to oblige.

Portraits, a popular game. Seemed okay, maybe not fighting was a good idea. "Portraits." Pulren looked at his feet, his body swimming in kelp and the floor so clear in its dirtiness. He looked up again at the card player and smiled a bit. "Pulren Marsh. Good to meet ya, Portraits." Maybe he could just let it go, the rage going out like the tide.

"When are ye two gettin married, Pal's little pal? Mebbe we should have a toast fer ye wedding!" A sudden explosion of laughter washed over Pulren like a rogue wave, a chorus joined in by others who were watching with a sick glee. Pulren looked at Portraits and his face dropped. "Next time, Portraits." The steam, which had descended to a slow boil, rose up like a geyser as the mug in Pulren's hand flew out of it like a harpoon, smashing the toaster in the face.

"Cheers, Vagik!"

[Ariann]

OOCI hope I'm not intruding by leaping in here I kinda took the liberty of giving out people for you both to fight ^_^ If I'm not supposed to do this, lemme know and I will edit the post! Happy brawling!

It was late. Very late. Late enough that the clouds in the sky had darkened long after the Syna had left the skies, taking a rest and letting Leth shine down on the good land of Mizahar. Rain was due, the warm breezes of spring wafting clouds towards the skies above Zeltiva with a reluctance. It had been so nice the last few days.

Ariann found herself walking down from the University, having been brought to awakeness by a shaking feeling that she could not define. Maybe it was a bad dream. She didn't know. All she knew was that the itch that stung the back of her throat denoted dehydration. She had been sleeping on land for three nights, having forsaken returning to the sea to help out with the infirmary at the University. It seemed that more and more of the students and sailors were getting themselves hurt, leaving no one but Ariann to tend to them.

And so the Charoda found herself at a place called 'the bar' by the locals when she asked where the best place to get a drink was. She stepped into the bar, still without much covering her body but a black, silk poncho that barely hid her chest and private region, leaving little to the imagination. She seemed unaware of the stares at first, glancing around the tavern at the heads that turned suddenly at the fish's sudden appearance. Her bright green eyes blinked curiously as she turned her head to look behind her as if expecting to see some tall, foreboding figure standing behind her that was the cause of all the gawking. She didn't have a clue that she was the object of interest, though, and so when she didn't see anyone, she turned back towards the inside of the tavern and blinked again, looking a bit confused as everyone got over their curiosities and went back to their drinks and talk.

Ariann was still confused by the sudden attention, lightly stepping over to the bar and taking a seat, her leg crossing prim and gingerly over the other as she folded her hands innocently into her lap. She beamed a sharp-toothed smile towards the bartender when the old lady approached her, leaning onto the bar to look at her intensely for a moment before chiming up. "We've got Kelp Beer and we've got Kelp Beer. Which do you want?" She asked her sharply, getting little more than a bewildered blink and a shocked expression from Ariann. What is... beer? she thought to herself, blinking when the bartender tossed a thumb over his shoulders at the kegs of Kelp Beer lined along the walls with spigots hewn into them.

"Do you serve water?" She asked, her tone as innocent as it was naive, her eyes still blinking in a curious, wide way. The barkeep shook her head and reached under the bar to snatch up a spotty glass, turning from Ariann to wipe the glass clean before moving to one of the tapped kegs and pouring a decent amount of water from a large barrel into the glass. What she slapped down onto the bar before Ariann could only be what she might call 'foamy' water. It looked like the barkeep had taken some swamp water and put some ocean foam atop it. She could see the speckles from the inside of the grimy barrels that they stored the beer in for fresh consumption, and the soap-spots on the glass didn't help much with her appetite. "Try it." the barkeep muttered with a motion towards the glass before moving off.

She didn't get very long to ponder whether or not she should drink the liquid, because before she knew it, the sounds of prerequisite fighting erupted from a few feet away, at a table where Gale and Pulren as well as a few other men were playing a game, exclaiming about cheating and boasting about winning as well. Taking the glass in hand, Ariann turned on the stool to face the table where the ruckus was coming from, just in time to hear the laughter and then the sudden smash of one man's face as it was collided into by Pulren's fist. Ariann's eyes widened as she watched the man fall, his body striking the floor hard as his eyes lulled backwards until only the red-lined whites were visible. The man was clean out.

Ariann didn't know what to do, the following seconds erupted into utter chaos as Pulren's first punch gave way to half a dozen other men retaliating, but not all aimed at Pulren. A few just randomly punched other men, seemingly for the petch of it. Their faces twisted in a sickening thrill-filled glee while the other's faces cascaded with shock and then rage. An all-out-brawl quickly enflamed as people began to punch eachother, two men approaching Pulren, one of which leaped onto Pulren's back while the other hurled his fists at the man, brazenly and drunkedly, swinging as if he'd never fought before in his life and wanted to use Pulren as his punching bag. They were easy swings to block, and the man upon his back was light enough that Pulren would not have much trouble tossing him off. But for Gale, it seemed luck was not on his side as one of the menHarvey, I'd guess, unless he was the one who got KO'd by Pulren... turned on Gale and cracked his knuckles before sending a few swings out at him, as if he thought that the artist was one of Pulren's lackeys.

Ariann watched with a bitter sense of shock and a feeling that she needed to intervene on the fight as she scooted off of the bar stool, leaving the glass of muggy kelp beer behind since she was still quite dazed at the sudden uproar of chaos, shouting and tossing of fists. She made her way over towards the man who had been knocked out, who had nearly landed on his empty chair that would likely have crumbled beneath the weight of the man. She crouched beside him, looking him over and dodging the stray fists and ducking under the stray man that was tossed across the room. She looked at the unconscious man's face first, noting his broken nose and bloodied lip. Her left hand shot out, placing over his lower face as her gnosis mark lit up, sealing the man's lip and disinfecting his wounded nose, which most likely was bleeding within one of his nostrils. Then came the hard part, which was re-setting the man's nose, and thankfully she managed to quickly pop it back into place before the man awoke, the sickening pop causing her the flinch back, her hands flying up towards her mouth as she shuddered, before lowering them back down to the man's face as she used her Gnosis mark again to restore whatever cuts the man had on his face to their former solidness.

She turned back towards the fight, blinking and only wishing that it would end soon.

[Pulren Marsh]

Nothing had ever been so satisfying as seeing the mug shatter on the vagik's face. It seemed like the action had signaled for all to join in on the merriment, the other vagiks standing on their feet to come congratulate Pulren on his toast. Their arms were out for a great big hug. Before the recruit knew it, he had some monkey on his back and some other shyke throwing punches at him. The rest of their clan was blocked by tables and wild offenders, as far as Pulren could see each time his view swung that direction.

The puncher was connecting about one of five times and the monkey was cutting off Pul's airway, so enough of that. reaching back, Marsh got a bouquet of hair and ear, the monkey squealing as he brought it around his body and into the puncher. "Here's somethin te punch, ye shyke eater!" The moment the two landed on each other, a chair was in Marsh's hand, coming down on the pair. Didn't break, so he raised it for another swing, but it vanished from his hands. turning on his heel to find where it had spirited , it came full circle to his shoulder. this time it did break and the pieces bounced off of his head.

Swimmy a bit from the hit, Pulren saw a man running up on him and he threw an elbow straight up into his chin. It stopped the attacker's momentum, though a headbutt caught Marsh square in the eye. This and the kelp beer brought about some kind of primordial rage of pain as he clamped on to the man's tunic and just started throwing punches into anything that would bring purchase.

[Ricky Maze]

It was but an evening practically just like every other he’d had apart from the off and on occurrences he would go out and drink, since Kelp Beer didn’t leave one with but a stench in mouth and breath he tried to make sure he drank as little as possible for his dearly beloved before he returned home though. It never did much good to torture the woman he loved with bated breath off and occasionally, yet the chances he did indulge himself in Kelp Beer were made all the more sweeter each time he did so. Even if the piss poor excuse of green sludge seemed to become a delicacy he enjoyed in the sour raw taste, much like the other sailors in this broken down pub that served such putrid beverages to the paying local.

Yet he took it slow unlike the other louts here, even made sure he blended in with the crowd well enough. Wearing his white worn vest and blue trousers made him look just like the average sailor actually, thanks to the tattoos he’d purchased earlier this season in regards to his love for Telion. The Black Lady was on his left shoulder and the distinct form of a single claw mark just above it, that scar being about the only easy indication that it was Ricky to those who personally knew him. On the right was the awesome tattoo that was made of swirls and symbols not even he found meaning to, yet thought them rather amazing to gaze upon each time that part of his skin was present. It even caught the eye of the few sailors near him once or twice, yet no questions were asked as every sailor knew where to get their next tattoo in this city.

Bars. Loud and obscene to much faults and prone to fights that got out of hand, yet nothing was usually done to prevent it as half the time everyone viewed it as a sport. Ricky had partaken in some of his own time after time, yet tonight he knew that there were a couple of others there. Others that didn’t recognize him off hand because he’d made sure to remain hidden, it was too obvious really since he’d been in such plain sight, but with such a crowded place he could only surmise his face wasn’t all that easy to spot to begin with. Sounds like t’ing’s are escalatin’ already. He heard a few sailors pick a few bones with Pulren, the first one he was already aware of and partial reason as to why he was here. Ricky liked to personally know his recruits he trained, that is before he would further involve himself with them of course. If they were to make excellent guardsmen then they would first have to understand what he had to teach them, and that in turn meant he had to understand them without them knowing.

Temper'mental, prone t’ pick fights, drinks like a teenage rebel, but Oi doubt he’ll ‘old all o’ it in later. He assumed out of deduction. Yes. Ricky had observed enough to pick out these few things, mainly because Pul was a bit obnoxious in his example to personally toast… a family member? Relative most definitely. Either way Pulren had an air about him that suggested that while honorable to a fault, he definitely needed much work on his outer guardsmen skills. Something Ricky felt he was quite capable in helping, only if Pulren of course wanted that help in the beginning. Then of course the next reason brought himself to be more so paternal really, seeing as how yet again he’d ran into Ariann. Ariann! Of ALL the people in this place SHE had to show up here! It made him scoff as he watched her take a mug of Kelp Beer, already sure she wasn’t going to even drink the green sludge that rested within. The sounds of the fight then escalated and Ricky jumped as he turned to face the music, eyebrows raised as he witnessed the event unfold before him. Damn! Shyke just got real! He mused with a grin, only to find that it faded fast once Ariann looked to be getting in the midst of it.

The decision. Should he lay back like she wanted? No. He couldn’t let her get hurt, but then again… she wanted him to leave her be. She wanted Ricky to stop treating her like a child, his child to be exact. Yet the issue was that Ariann wasn’t his child, even if so he still couldn’t stop the care he felt for her. He clenched his jaw and strongly grasped his mug of beer, struggled to restrain himself as he coped with these internal issues. Petch it! Petch. It. All. These shykebags aren’t going to hurt her, he wouldn’t allow it. His face turned into a deep deep rose color, making the tan in cheeks at first glow when he caved in with the thought of some bastard laying their dirty hands on Ariann. Then of course the large single swig of his beer as he chugged the mug, all the way down to just below a third being left. Now. To settle things personally. Ricky stood up and craned his neck till several pops happened, he’d not engaged in a bar fight intentionally for some time now. Yet he was doing it for the sake of another, and in doing so he’d make sure she’d know just what extent he’d go.

He then approached Ariann right after she seemed to retreat from the middle of all, and surprised her of course with his appearance as he would everyone else… since he tended to do that quite often. "Ariann," He called out above the loud noise of the rabble, "Git t’ de sides over by de walls. Stay t’ere ‘til all dis settles, an’ don’t move less Oi say so." He was definitely in a paternal state now, except unlike this time he wasn’t taking anything from her. No playful notions she might’ve had, no ifs, ands, or buts about it either seeing as how he was pretty serious about the whole thing. Even looked serious too, with the grim assertive face he held, Ariann would know he wasn’t to be kidded around with by this point. Luckily he wasn’t pissed yet. That however would change.

Another, the third yet unexpected reason Ricky just adopted, was there and he looked to be targeted by a oversized kelp breath no brained petchhead. Now that started to set Ricky off, enough to where he would try to force his way through the brawl that ensured in the midst of the bar. He wormed his way through the crowd and ignored all the cheers and taunts fisherman and sailor alike casted, save for the one, the ONLY one thing that knocked what little control he had left down into a spiral of shyke. A fist had managed to come in his direction and he’d not paid attention, a fist that collided into the side of his face as he stopped in his tracks to remain firm on his feet. He didn’t move. He was red, red as an apple now. He felt hot, like the air had been charged with some sort of heated energy that dulled his mind. He was pissed. He’d lost control. Ricky who’d once thought nothing but to help his friends was now officially blacked out, and in that event the “Zeltivan Bear” within him was finally unleashed as he went all fury on those that engaged with him. There was still a focus his mind kept to and that was Gale of course, but as far as what happened in the process not even Ricky was able to see or recollect. He was in a entranced daze led on by the fury of his fists, feet, and any item that might make it in his hands. Bottles, mugs, pretty much small things in general that allowed him to duke his way towards his best friend.

[Gale Austin McCenry]

EditGah! Ricky!!

The stranger acknowledged his words by repeating them in a rather slow manner. Gale figured it was because he was hammered. But nevertheless, it appeared that his intrusion just might have saved the day a the Kelp Bar a lot of repair. The man appeared to have calmed down quite a bit and even too the liberty of introducing hims- Wait, did he calm him Portraits?

Gale's lips pressed into a line and his eyebrows furrowed with confusion. "No, no, Portraits is the-"

But just then, one of the men decided to piss... Pulren off again. Gale had no idea what a wedding had to do with anything, but frankly, Gale didn't care, so long as he didn't get killed in a fire that seemed to be forming, given the spark that was just lit. Though, this spark almost instantly erupted, and the first flame was born when Pulren chucked his mug across the room, landing a direct hit upon the man's face. "Aaaaand that is it for me." Gale mumbled as other men around the room started to stand up and sock their friends in the face.

Being in the middle of the room, this ensued some complications. With people already fighting, there was likely no way for Gale to weave his way through the commotion with one of them landing a hit, or possibly even a brawl with him. This meant he needed to find the quickest route out. One preferable with less people. Gale glanced around the room, observing the heat of combat growing as people started to fight dirty. His eyes eventually came to the wall.

The wall! There weren't as many people by the wall because most were in the middle of the brawl, reeking havok. That's where he needed to go. From there, he could slip out unnoticed. Brilliant idea Gale!

The shaggy man quickly made his way towards the wall, passing by Pulren quickly, knowing that the few men at the table were going to be by his side in less than a few ticks. He scooted by a table, only to jolt back in surprise as Pulren grabbed the chair next to him and swinging it over his head. Jeez! These people don't play fair! Getting over this shock, the sailor continued his way towards the almost vacant wall, passing the current table and jumping, which was more like a step, over the a chair or two.

He almost got to the wall too. Except someone took a lunge in front of him. The burly man towered over Gale, being at least 6 inches taller than him. The gambler cracked his knuckles cockily, giving Gale a crooked smile.

"Harvey!" The artist exclaimed with surprise. "Hey buddy!" He said with enthusiasm to cover up the previous exclamation. "I am just going to go through here real quick, sorry to bot-" As Gale attempted to ease his way past the man and finish his sentence, Harvey grabbed Gale by the shirt tightly. He didn't say a word, but his smile told Gale everything he needed to know. "I am not getting past you am I?"

"Nope." He was afraid of that.

Harvey raised his fist and as he let go of Gale's shirt, swung his arm up, socking Gale in the chin, making the emaciated man tumble back. He first landed in one of the chairs before the chair toppled over. He landed on the floor, the back of his head smashing against the floorboards.

By this time, no piece of furniture was safe as chairs, mugs, and even tables were starting to be tossed and moved around and used for defense. And this was no different for Harvey and Gale.

The widower blinked his eyes in attempts to get the brief fuzziness away from his eyes. But Harvey didn't wait for Gale to recover. He leaned over and grabbed the chair, throwing it over his head, reading to slam it into the ground. Gale saw this and rolled over instinctively, attempting to evade the wooden chair. Though, Gale rolled under the table when the chair smashed on the floor beside him, Harvey outraged. He dropped the chair and grabbed the edges of the table, sending it into the air. The artist again hollered in surprise.

He could see the steam coming out of the sailors nose, and even more so when Harvey raised and swung his foot, making contact with Gale's side. He yelped in pain, his hands rushing to protect the now aching side. His blue eyed watched as Harvey raised his foot again, then looking to the other leg. Both hands lunged forward, grabbing Harvey's knee and yanked it forward. Harvey lost balance and fell over, though, landing on top of Gale.

OOCIf anyone want to join Gale's brawl or mix theirs into Gale's or whatever, go ahead. I just kinda of left it to be their fight simply because of where they are, which is the side of the room, but I don't mind if someone ended up over there or whatever.

[Ariann]

Chaos. That was the only word she knew that could even come close to the pandemonium that Ariann found herself pitted in the midst of. The swarm of fists, glass, feet, bruises and bloodshed seemed to swim around her as she kept herself on her knees, her head too low to become the victim of a stray fist. She was the only innocent one in the center of the fight, the bar wenches having evacuated a long while ago. She felt quite alone, squatting over the unconscious body of the instigator of the fight, applying a touch of her gnosis to whoever she could touch without drawing attention to herself until her head began to sting and the back of her left hand burned where the mark was. Ariann had a pitiful look of fear on her face, but it did not last very long when she saw Ricky weaving his way to her.

Ricky! Her eyes widened and her miuth gaped as she watched, her breath catching in her throat. Time was still for several moments. He had come close to her now, yelling at her through the turmoil, but Ariann did not catch any of it. Her thoughts were distracted by the last meeting they had, her words echoing in her mind. She had told him to leave her alone, to stop treating her like a child, but still he persisted, and was here again for her when she needed someone near. And then he was gone again, weaving away into the fighting towards Gale who was now facing off against a huge beast of a man. Ariann's eyes flared in fear and shock, her mind wanting to help Gale somehow, but her body refused to heed her wishes. And then Ricky was struck in the face by a blow that even Ariann didn't see coming.

Ariann let out a strangled cry of shock, before launching to her feet and rushing towards Ricky. She was no acrobat, but she found the weaving between bodies to be like swiming in the currents of a river. She was pushed and shoved, and even caught an elbow herself in the face. Lucky for her, the strike wasn't as painful as it sounded, the soft cartilage giving off a wet thump as her nostrils were slammed shut. Her body flew forwards, even as her face remained where the arm was as the arm continued backwards. It wasn't until that arm flung forwards to mash another's face in a milisecond later that her body began to obey gravity. She collapsed to the ground onher back, the sound of her flesh hitting the floor sounded like a frog getting tossed hard into a lake.

The world spun above her, her eyes wide in shock still but glazed over with lack of comprehension. Her mind reeled about for an explaination of what just happened. Her face... her whole body... was numb. She lost her orient, unasble to tell which way was up or down. Slowly, like the spice of a pepper, the pai began to abridge her nostrils, expanding from the slits back into her brain accompanied by a wet, warm sensationon her face. Ariann's eyes managed a dazed blink as she reached a slender hand up to her fa e to wipe away red paste from her nostrils and lips. Even in her daze, Ariann could piece together what it was. Blood. What she didn't realize just yet was that it was her own blood, and the blossoming pain was getting worse by the moment. Her eyes welled up, secreting an opalescent liquid in response to the sudden proximity of the elbow, and the healer began to bawl. Her lips twisted in agony as she cupped her face, flailing about on the ground in pain.

"Oooooooowwwwwwwiiiiiiieeeeeee! My faaaaace!" She cried in agony.

[Pulren Marsh]

Like a violent water spout that would push into the outer reaches of the Bay every few years, Pulren swung wildly into sides and ribs until he found himself securely wrapped up in the grip of what had to be a giant octopus. "Calm down, little Pal, let's work some of that fire out of ye!" A cacophony of raucous laughter followed as he found himself facing one of the sailors he had started the battle with. In fact, it was the sailor, considering the blood caked to his face.

"Fat Pal was stupid." A solid punch to Pulren's stomach, the wind leaving like a bellows.

"Stupid enough to go out into the WInter to fish." Another solid hit.

"Stupid enough to not throw you back to Laviku when he caught ye as a guppy." One to the ribs and one to the face.

Pulren let loose a guttural growl. His face would heal and so would the rest, but he could feel a slight wiggle in one of his teeth and that just wouldn't do. His foot lifted and stomped hard into the grappler's own foot. Lashing back with his head, he found purchase with some teeth himself. Finally loose, he leaped forward and knocked the punching sailor down. His feet came to life, happy with their initial successes. Stomps and kicks came in flurries to keep him down.

"Stupid enough to fight a Marsh! Stupid enough to keep fighting!" Kicks aplenty.

[Ricky Maze]

oocTerribly sorry for the long wait! Things got rather hectic over the past couple weeks. And of course Gale I didn't fully control the NPC you're brawling with, so you can assume whatever happens next with him as Ricky is now prone to defend you.

Black. He saw only that but he knew there was something going on, something he no longer had the ability to stop or gain control of. Ricky was no longer aware anymore, the workings of his mind completely blank as his body seemed to develop a will of its own. The fisherman took a punch from a bastard that made the right side of his face throb a little, but even that was no longer a bother now that he felt nothing other than.... scratch that, he felt nothing. First was the struggle to get through the waves of men as they bickered with fist and bottle, the occasional dunk back or down to avoid an incoming blow as the assailant would hit another instead. Of course he too would share a little bit of fist swings of his own, most of them the occasional uppercut after he would try to dunk and avoid such punches. A barrage of dual fists flurried his way and made contact into both of his shoulders as he staggered back only for a moment, two men ready to get the jump on the larger fellow as he growled in irritation.

"Outta da petchin way ye shyke bag vagiks!" He demanded as he brought up his arms to defensively tackle them, when they both collided into him the impact proved poor in effectiveness of course. Two men against one wasn't really going anywhere, but that didn't stop the Zeltivan Bear himself from breaking through the bastards just to reach the intended target. The fisherman allowed a slight shift in his weight as he would lean over to one side, changing his push against the two men into a shove behind him so that he could use his foot to trip the first fool. They both tumbled down of course and found themselves caught in each others arms, both quick and prone to retaliate against one another out of spite, or rather stupidity, as the fisherman returned to the focused goal at hand. Gale. Gale was the last thing in his mind, Gale was in need of help and that alone was what set the chain of events forward. The man who stood both a proud and pissed off Ricky shuffled his way towards Gale, only to find that something hard and heavy hit him from behind.

Glass shattered and flew out like particles of dust as he fell to the floor on his knees, a moment spent in the recollection of his environment around him as the chaos only continued to ensue. Damn them. Damn the fool that hit him. He was certainly going to be in trouble now. The fisherman went to look over his shoulder but found that the arms of another fellow wrapped around his neck, and locked him in a choke hold as the fisherman grunted and struggled to get free. No good. He was trapped in this asshole's arms and he couldn't do much about it, unless of course... Never hurt to try right? Even though his head would thank him for it later, Ricky brought it forward to ram the back of his skull into the face of the man that tried to put him down. A hard bash shook the whole of his cranium as he felt a shock wave from the impact pulse from behind to the front side of his face. The pain he would've felt obviously numbed from both anger and adrenaline, he only grimaced as he heard the idiot behind him cry out for a moment, and in that moment the grip loosened just enough for Ricky to react.

The Zeltivan Bear tightened his grasp on the upper arms of his would be attacker, and then pulled forward as hard as he can to hurl the bastard who was behind him over the shoulder, the man quickly flung down into the floor as a few others moved away to avoid being caught in the collision. Bam. There was a wheeze from the poor fool as he had the air knocked out of him, Ricky quick to rise to his feet once more but loosely as his equilibrium seemed to suffer damage. This was not cool. He would surely be sore in several places come tomorrow, but then again Ariann was here so she could easily heal his wounds and ease his pain. Ariann! Did she listen to him?! Did she try to stay out from the middle of all this? He wanted to look over and see but no such thought could follow, his body was still set on the task of helping out the man he named Godfather to Martin. Finally! The bastard that landed on top of Gale would find that he was grabbed at the shoulders, and yanked away to get off the artist as a new brawler joined in on their engagement. That's right. Ricky was here to save the day, or at least save Gale's day before he suffered any further injuries.

The fisherman was quick to stand next to Gale but didn't bother looking down to him, instead the sights were set on the man that attacked Gale to begin with. He was the target, the intended task to handle. The threat to put a stop to, the problem to solve in this mess. Rick stood ready for a serious fight as he would expect Gale to get up and do something useful like withdraw, but then again the thought never allowed his body to be distracted from the target of focus for one tick.