[Baroque Bay] One More to Teach (Tove)

[Kreig Messer]

68th of Summerth 19th Bell, 21st Chime.

The Pig’s Foot was hardly Sunberth’s only tavern although it was considered the most popular by locals. And it hardly the only place in Sunberth that had brawls break out, this was a city of scum after all; thieves, brigands and whores, it would be ludicurous to believe that only one tavern could host all drunken and rowdy conflicts.

The Drunken Fish was one such place, the port tavern was home to sea farers, the outsiders who came here to stop here briefly, the rowdy Svefra who call them masters of the seas, and the pirates who used it as a recruiting ground to bolster their numbers albeit under the name of ‘privateers’. All sailors, at least most of the ones who hadn’t held a rank of sort, were rowdy especially for being cooped up on ships dozens of days to seasons at a time.

All had pent up energy, and they either spent it on whores, gambling, drinking or…. Brawling.

Tonight was such a night that a brawl had indeed broken out, the reason didn’t really matter; someone cheating cards? Some scum slept with another’s girl? All of it pretext to simply slug one another across the blade and perhaps slip a dagger or two if they could get away with it.

Kreig had come to the Fish simply for a quick drink, being that it was ludicrously close to his place of work and he wasn’t feeling like making the 30 chime journey towards the Pig’s Foot. The brawl hadn’t even interested him, oh they fought viciously but none of them caught Kreig’s eye.

He saw no nor did he intend to see any diamonds of the rough, they were all simply… boring.

At this point in time the brawl was still going, and he was simply making his way out. Some petcher though he could cut his eye out and the fellow did get a cut in; a long cut on his check just below his eyes. The salty air stung at it and Kreig winced, but he allowed himself a grin as he recalled the attacker as the miserable pile of bones once he’d been done with him.

For now, he intended to walk, perhaps seek out Esbern later to heal his cut after.

But he needed to clear his mind a bit.

And he doubted he’d be running into anyone troublesome on a brief walk, could he?

x

[Tove]

Tove had never been much of a tavern-hopper. Her time spent as a slave had kept her sheltered from such things and she had a rather strong distaste of the booze she had the displeasure of tasting. One thing she did enjoy however were those who found a strange comfort in inns. She enjoyed watching the many personalities that inhabited the tavern scene, whether that be the sensual whores or the overconfident youth that had consumed one too many drinks.

Tove had been pulled into a conversation with a middle-aged woman, the deep red color that had been painted upon her lips smeared and her words slurred. She spoke of many things, her father’s disappearance, her mother’s debilitating illness, the fact that she had been married eight times yet all her husbands had run off with younger women. Tove had long since lost interest in the conversation, but the woman didn’t seem to care. She just continued to talk as if she thought Tove had remained completely invested the entire Bell she had been speaking.

She rested her hand upon her cheek, her eyes hollow and far out. The flow of time seemed to slow down at the worst times. Never had she met a woman who could talk so much without even a quick glance at a glass of water. It had gotten to the point where Tove had no care for respect, her eyes having continuously strayed away from the woman in the hopes that some natural disaster would occur just to shut her up. The woman didn’t seem to mind though as she eyed her nails as she spoke.

Every few chimes or so another fight would start only to be replaced by another. There were never any clear victors in Tove’s eyes, all who fought would end up bloodied one way or another. She saw no glory in socking a man to win the respect of the crowd nor did she understand the need to fight over petty things such as cheating or adultery. Tove couldn’t fathom the idea of punching a man just for giggles…not that she would be much of an opponent anyway.

“…And that is why you never marry a man with two left hands dear girl.” The pitch of the woman’s voice seemed higher than before as she finished one of her many stories. Tove lazily allowed her eyes to shift back to the woman as she feigned interest in one of her many conquests.

“Hmm…an interesting tale. I will keep that in mind for the off chance that I go hunting for a lover. Thank you for sharing.” Tove forced herself to smile back at the woman as she spoke. The woman smiled and nodded. The talkative woman’s eyes drifted as she scanned the crowd, a particularly wicked grin had formed on her face as a man approached.
“Hmm, …shorter than my usual lovers but beggars can’t be choosers.” Tove looked over to where the woman had been gazing with half-lidded eyes, her brow furrowing as she caught a look at the man.

“He’s a tad bit…young for you, no?” Tove wondered if female humans often hunted for younger lovers, she had seen plenty of examples of such strange behavior. Surely her drunk companion was long past the age of reproduction, she appeared to have lived many seasons. The woman just laughed and shrugged the comment off.

“Listen, close dear, I am living in my prime within my own mind. I’m not a day past twenty-five in here…” She brought up her right hand and tapped her head with a long nail, her thin lips turning upwards as she did so.

The comment confused Tove to no end as she already had little understanding of human aging as it was. The woman had more wrinkles than most when in the prime of their life and she knew so little about the internal functions of the body to understand that it aged with the body. The sheet had been pulled over her eyes, she was lost in a state of questioning before the woman caught her attention once more.

“I need a new conquest anyway. It has been far too long since I felt the touch of a-…” Tove had heard enough. Her eyes drifted as the woman spoke of her previous intimate encounters, it was a conversation Tove cared little for. Her eyes fell upon the man the woman had pointed out once more. It hadn’t been a look that stemmed from a romantic attraction, however. No, he simply had an undeniable presence about him.

[Kreig Messer]

It took but a moment for trouble to rear its ugly head as Kreig stepped out of the Drunken Sailor, promptly by being turned around “Oh excuse me dear, do forgive me, I’m afraid I’ve too much to drink and mistook you for someone else” Came the voice of the middle aged woman, lips slathered in red lipstick and there was a slight slur to her words followed by a slightly tipsy motion to the sway of her shoulders.


There was a gleam in her eyes though, one that gave Kreig a reason to dread. It the sort of gleam he had when looking of a good fight…. The fingers of his left fist gripped his pants in panic though, as his gut feelings told him his definition of the word fight certainly didn’t match hers.

“Oh uh, that there’s alright ma’am, coulda happen to anyone” He said politely, giving a light if false smile to reassure the older woman. He should have realized from the onset that was the wrong move as he brows rose in delight.

“Oh, such a polite young man. A rarity here in Sunberth, few know the value of good manners” She sniffed, her eyes turning briefly at the ruffian who were brawling like brutes. Kreig tried to slip away but like a particularly attentive beast her own latched onto his wrist and Kreig felt himself paling.

“Ah, yes, well, mum raised me right ‘s all” He said weakly, looking at her and past her only to see another form of trouble, the trouble he preferred, coming their way in the form of a drunken bald man in dirty apparel and clearly the sort who frequently eats for two, three, and four approached.

“Gimme a crack at them lips, love” He said, his hand resting on the woman’s shoulders. Kreig’s fists simply reacted as his fist went in for a quick jab and struck the fellow’s nose.

“Ow you bas-“ He was interrupted by another jab to his nose, causing him to stumble back slightly “Stob doin’ d-“ This time Kreig’s fist flew in a straight punch that connected with the fellow’s temple and sent him dropping on his back with an incoherent moan, out for the count.

As for Kreig, he simply sighed then stiffened as the woman’s voice entered his ears once again “My my, such a heroic gentleman. I dare say I wouldn’t have known what to do to stave off this fellows…. Untoward affection” She emphasized by hitting the unconscious fellows leg with the back of her show.

“Oh, uh, jus’… uh, I should really be goin’ now” He tried weakly, trying to pull away yet that woman’s grip was as sure as a vice as it kept him there.

“Oh now don’t be silly, come come! I insist that you must partake in a drink as a token of thanks!” Kreig would have loved a drink at a different time and place, and unfortunately this woman’s company was certainly neither this nor that.

His face scanned the crowd and away as if looking for any sort of help, practically pleading for a rescue of sorts before he had to resort to desperate violence.
x

[Tove]

Tove’s eyes focused on her reflection in the silver container the woman had used to hold the product she lathered her lips with. Tove wondered if she really looked as tired as her reflection seemed to be- deep bags under her eyes, skin burnt from endless hours of sunbathing. She never realized the toll Sunberth pulled over her. In any of the prosperous city, Tove could go a day without peeking behind her every two seconds but there was so much to fear in Sunberth. Slavers, gang members, petty thieves, rapist, the list went on and on.

A loud pop pulled Tove away from her thoughts. The woman’s lips coated with an even deeper red. Her black hair was plagued with the occasional silver strand, deep green eyes prominent behind smeared kohl. She was lovely, just a tad bit on the older side of things. Gold rings dangled from her ears as she shook her head as she lifted her flagon from the table and brought it to her lips.

“Let me tell you Dear Girl-“A loud gulping sound made its way to Tove’s ears. Her brow raised as she anxiously awaited what the tipsy women planned on saying, “We have an advantage over men, young and old, you know why?” She dropped the flagon to the hardwood, her index finger pointing straight at Tove, then herself, “You and I? We’re women. It’s a dangerous kind of power…some disrespect it- some see it as a weakness- but it’s a superpower. If you harness it, then you’ll be able to wrap any man wrapped around your finger. That’s why I have been married so many times.” The woman had started to slur, another swig of ale most likely had been the cause.

“Ugh- noted?” Tove sighed as she rested her cheek upon her fist. However kind the advice may have been, it was not needed. Tove had no plans of seducing men, and if she did she would have already have taught herself how. The woman who sat across from her was empowered by her own sexuality which was somewhat nice to know? The woman let out a long drawn out sigh before her eyes locked on the poor man she had been previously preying upon.

Tove imagined the woman as a wolf and the man as a bunny…a stocky bunny that is. The woman just wanted to sink her claws into him –or any man in close proximity- before her sexual regression began. A small seductive smirk formed on her lips as she watched him, but as soon as he managed to shove through the crowd to get to the exit her expression shifted. Panic maybe? Her brow furrowed as she took one last swig of her ale before she pushed herself up from her chair, an approached the poor fellow.

Sadly for Tove, the patrons had grown louder, and thus she could not eavesdrop on the two. She cared little for the woman’s tactics or the flirtation that would surely be heard, but her nosy nature forced her to long for knowledge she didn’t even want- like a child that knows some brothel activities will scare them but they still peek in the windows.

She allowed her fingers to tap against the table, her eyes having shifted away from the poor man and the she-wolf that wanted to sink her claws into him. Pretty barmaids walked about, serving the patrons’ flagons and food alike. The tavern was as rowdy as ever, just as you would expect from any establishment that catered to sailors. Sunberth catered to all if they knew how to play their cards right…though the penalty for those who lacked such skill could be worse than death at times.

Tove looked over at the woman as she fluttered her eyelashes, her hip pushed out more than ever. She allowed her sleeves to slip over her shoulders, which in turn revealed the sun-kissed skin upon her shoulders. Tove rolled her eyes as the two spoke, the woman having subtly pulled him away from the exit and closer to the table without him noticing. As the rambunctious crowd died down Tove could pick up on their words, her eyes locked on them as they spoke. Words she couldn’t hear she would try and decipher by watching their lips.

The man seemed more scared than interested. Tove could understand as she too would be scared of the femme fatale if she were a man or even woman that the she-wolf sought after. The she-wolf was circling around the poor muscular bunny – the thought caused Tove to smile. It was funny to see someone else scared for once when in a social situation. Empathy was not on her list of things to feel on that day.

Less than a chime passed and the two were practically on top of the table the woman had left Tove to fend for herself at. Tove went to move but a well-fed sailor approached before she could get far. A shyke-eating grin spread across his lips as he looked the she-wolf up and down as if she were a piece of meat.

“Gimme a crack at them lips, love”-The words caused Tove to feel even more on edge. If something bad were to happen she would have to jump in- even if the woman slightly annoyed her. The sailor’s hand fell upon her exposed shoulder which seemed to be the last straw for her conquest. One punch caused the sailor to stumble. Two left him frustrated. Three and he was out cold.

Tove’s interest was piqued. The man didn’t even try. He was obviously a skilled fighter and he knew how to use his strength against his competitors. A skill Tove was interested in- one she needed if she was to survive another season in Sunberth. He could be a valuable asset, if not a person to be friendly with.

“One drink…”The woman made a one with her index finger with a sheepish grin spread across her lips, “I’ll pay- you did save me after all. One drink and if ya still wanna go, ya can go! I have to get to know the hero of the hour~” Tove could practically smell the color that had drained from his features as he stood awkwardly before the table. “Just one drink sweetie! A big man like you can handle his booze I’m sure.” Next-things-next, she practically pushed the poor man onto a chair next to her.

“Love, this is my good friend, Crove. She’s been such a sweetie this evening.” Tove lacked the energy to correct her, her eyes stuck on the fighter. “And my name is Arden. So… you turn, what’s your name?”

Before the man has a chance to answer the woman-Arden- called over a barmaid, ordering the best for her ‘hero’. Tove tilted her head as she watched the man, sending him a knowing look. She was originally uncomfortable with Arden as well, so much so that her introduction to the man had been the first time she picked up on her name.

“…Now, what were we talking about- oh yes- you! Your name is?” Arden raised a brow, a seductive look in her eye as she rested her chin upon her hand, the smell of alcohol having attacked the man’s nostrils along with the thick scent of flowery oils.

[Kreig Messer]

Kreig screamed inside, begging to run and he could have… he certainly, really, painfully, could have. But his in-built respect for members of the opposite sex had prevented him from doing anything that would harm the old biddy, including emotionally. Before he even had any chance to speak however she’d already introduced him to her friend who was a damn sight better looking he felt and shot him what he assumed was a look of sympathy, introduced herself in all her drunken and overly perfumed glory, and had already ordered a drink in his honor.

‘oh bother’ came the thought as he sighed and finally sat at their table. This was not how envisioned his night ending up going, he just wanted to go for a walk after being involved in this walk, why must he be deny such a simple thing? Yahal his father above was this punishment for all his years of brawling? Had his tendency for finally forced some divine punishment in the form of a woman who appeared to feel herself still in her prime and confident enough that she could lure the brawler into her company and, he shuddered at the thought, to claim him to her bed and do a deed that the brawler has never done with anyone period?!

“Ah, me name’s Kreig ma’am” He let out a tad quietly, his body stiffened to be almost mechanical in his movements. As he tried not to look at the face of the woman who was relentless in her pursuit, not even looking at Crove as his mind tried to ponder some sort of scheme to get away from it all.

The problem was he wasn’t good at scheming and the brawl was calming down well enough that further danger was out of the question. Also they were all too beat up to go for another brawl… which meant starting one was of course out of the question.


Oh Dhira, strike him dead now.
x

[Tove]

“Oh, Krieg. What a nice name, Krieg the Hero has a lovely ring, don’t you think Crove?” Arden purred flirtatiously as she fluttered her eyelashes more and more with each word. Tove hardly reciprocated the excitement Arden carried so shamelessly, a mere nod and bored hum in response. “So Krieg, you have some lovely…” Arden eyed the poor man up and down, focused more so on his muscles than his face, “Eyes. What do you do for a living? You really know how to use your muscles as it seems.”

Finally, a topic Tove was interested in. She straightened her back upon hearing Arden’s question, she too wished to know his profession. He clearly knew how to fight but any man and his mother could fight in Sunberth…well except Tove and a few others. It was not his ability to punch, it was the way he knew where to put it without a thought. Skill and knowledge were entirely different things, to compare the two would be like comparing a skilled baker to someone who simply knew how to fry an egg.

Arden’s eyes widened as she spotted a sailor approaching, “Don’t look now love, but I think we may have a visitor.” The man pulled a chair from a neighboring table before flopping down without as much as a hello. “Well, well, well, look who we have here.” The sailor purred with a rotten grin as he rested his head upon the end of his chair.

“Petch it, Abantus, I had hoped you would be dead by now.” Arden’s smile dropped as she scanned the unwelcome guest. An old friend, maybe even a lover? Tove hadn’t heard a story with his name in it, maybe he was simply so unimpressive she forgot to mention him. “You here just to ruin my day or did you do it just by coincidence? As you can see, if your old eyes haven’t failed you yet that is, that I have far more…” Her eyes dropped back to Krieg, “Delightful Company.”


“Yer a crazy old bat if you find the company of a boy more better than my own? Let’s do a bit of the old in-out, in-out.” A gross gleam danced behind ‘Abantus’s ‘ eyes as he spoke so brashly to his next conquest- the hunter had become the prey. The tables had turned, but rather than being embarrassed, Arden was annoyed.

“Oh shove it, I ain’t old enough to be an old bat and you ain’t young enough for even three minutes of my time.”

“That’s all the time we’ll need like you said, I’m an old man and old men need the presence of a…dare I say, delicious mature woman?”

Tove shot Krieg an uncomfortable glance as the sailor flirted with his previous pursuer. Not only did she pity him at the moment, but she pitied herself as well. Her face began to heat up with the room as the crude conversation continued on right next to her. Tove twisted her head in a way the subtly motioned towards the exit of the rowdy tavern, not only for her own personal state of mind but also to learn more of Krieg himself. Himself being the skills he had stored within his brain that is. All she needed was an excuse.

“C’mon, cut me some slack woman! I didn’t know that would happen! Can’t blame a sailor for tryin’.” The sailor snapped angrily. Tove had missed whatever conversation had ensued in the time she had spent attempting to catch Krieg’s attention. She raised her hand ever so slightly to catch Arden’s attention but to no avail. She then tried to clear her throat in a conversational manner. Nothing. Her eyes locked on Krieg apologetically before she slammed her hands against the table as she dramatically pushed herself up.

“Well, lovely meeting you Arden and…Arden’s sailor pal, but Krieg and I are now leaving, right Krieg.”