Dreams and Fists (Darren)

[Berus]

3rd of Spring, AV 511

Berus almost nodded off as he leaned back contentedly in his chair, strumming his lyre. Eyes closed and fingers absently playing one of the simplest tunes, he was able to completely shut out the sounds of the bustling bar around him and imagine in his head the great adventures he had read about in so many books. He viewed it as if he were a bystander; watching as great heroes struck down mighty enemies… Then he placed himself in the shoes of those heroes, imagining himself-

Snap! He came crashing out of the daydream as one of the strings on his lyre snapped cleanly in two. He yelped in surprise and overbalanced in his chair. He fall backwards with a crash and landed on the floor in a great heap. He leapt up to his feet as quickly as he could, dusting himself off and glancing around to see if anyone had noticed. Luckily enough, the people in the bar were too busy having a good time to notice a single slight man falling. He let out a sigh of relief as he righted his fallen chair and retrieved his lyre from the floor. That’s what he gets for dreaming of a life beyond what he had.

Shaking his head to clear his thoughts, Berus walked over to the cup he’d laid out in case anyone had decided to tip him for the music. His shoulder’s sagged a bit when he saw that the cup contained not a bit of coin but was instead filled to the brim with someone’s vomit. Ugh, the life of a bard; filled with music and vomit.

Abandoning his cup and its vast treasures to whomever was luckily enough to have the job of cleaning this tavern, he headed for the door. However, he was intercepted by three drunken men who’s bloodshot eyes told him that they’d drunk their fill tonight. They all regarded the short man with half-coherent, amused expressions. Their leader, the largest of the three and about twice Berus’s size, stepped forward.

“So uh… Berus isn’t it? You the bard who thinks of goin’ out and bein’ a hero?” The drunkard managed to spew out, along with a large amount of spittle. He seemed to be teetering slightly, making Berus very afraid that he’d fall forward and crush the poor little bard. Berus glanced around, certainly not enjoying being accosted by drunken people when not in the same state. The three men in front of him were all much larger than him and, judging by their many bruises and rough, slightly bloodstained clothing, they appeared to be very experienced in brawling. All of them bore muscles obtained by hard work in the harsh, cold lands.

“Well, I am Berus and I am a bard. And yes, I do think I’d like to go out and see the world, along with perhaps an adventure or two,” Berus replied, grinning a bit at the last part. “Do you gentlemen mind stepping aside so-“

The leader interrupted him loudly, “A little runt like you? I bet even a practice dummy could beat you up.” He glared at the bard threateningly, his dark eyes flashing and changing color to a fierce green.

Berus backed away slightly, unsure of how to proceed. “I don’t look it, but I’m a fast little runt. I bet I could do some damage, given the chance.”

The two sidekicks laughed loudly for a moment as the leader crossed his big, meaty arms. “Tell you what, runt, if you can land a good punch on me, I’ll let you be on your way.” The leader smiled widely, displaying several gaping holes between his yellow teeth.

Berus looked around to see if anyone could help him. Unfortunately enough, this was not a challenge that could be evaded. He sighed, setting down his lyre and lamenting his ill luck. He stared hard at his opponent for a long moment, trying not to stare in disgust at the drool falling from the man’s mouth. His eyes shifted from a sparking green to a fierce blue as he attempted to pick the easiest target on his opponent's muscled body.

Then, stepping forward for more momentum, he sent his left hand flying at the man’s chest with all of his strength.

The drunkard stepped easily to the side of the blow, grabbed Berus’s wrist, and tossed him through the door and out into the snow in one easy movement. Berus crashed into the ground hard, mind reeling, and attempted to hop back to his feet.

He managed to get one shaky leg under him just as the drunkard’s fist collided with his jaw and sent him down once more.

[Darren]

Darren was doing his daily rounds on his off day of work as he was touring the Snowsong area for once. He wasn't too inclined to music or the arts as these people but he liked to dance along to some of their rhythms as he passed by the area. The only thing that irked him was their lack of combat ability in the area. If your known for not being able to defend yourself, naturally people will be inclined to use violence as a means to get what they want he thought. I mean look at this he thought to himself as he saw what looked to be a rather wiry looking fellow getting beaten on by some drunks that looked a bit more intoxicated then usual, that just proves it.
He watched as the man was thrown outside and beaten on. By then Darren was starting to get a bit aggravated not only by the fact that these men didn't know their limits when it came to alcohol but also that the one getting beaten didn't seem to be able to even defend himself. "Alright that's enough!" he growled as he ran towards the ground furiously and pulled one of the drunks away from the man.

The man who he pulled out was caught off balance as Darren tugged at his collar from behind. He was overweight so Darren let gravity do the work as it forced the obses man to fall and he instead shifted his attention to the second guy. As the 2nd man turned Darren went into a stance as he directed his energies into his palms. As the second man finally understood what just happened he thrust both of his palms into the 2nd man's abdomen causing him to fly back a distance before hitting a wall. Darren didn't have time to watch the 2nd man bounce from the wall and double over as the leader swung at him blindly with a series of lefts and rights.

Darren was being forced back by the series of until he finally was calm enough to get inside the guy's face after a wide right. Favoring some of the flux force into his right he shot out a straight palm thrust that hit the drunk's shoulder causing him to topple to the ground back first. Darren watched as the man slid a good distance before his legs finally reached the ground. Darren's attention then shifted his attention to the first guy he basically tripped. His hand shot out in his general direction, a glint of steel making a fierce song as it was pointed at the would-be attacker. The throwing knife wasn't thrown but instead stayed in his hand as Darren threatened the last guy "down..." Darren growled before the guy slumped back into the cold snow.

Hmph, drunks just show them a small sliver of dominance and they'll never bother you again he thought condescendingly. "Now... you" he said helping Berus back up, "let's go before they get back up" he ordered as he pulled him away from the tavern before letting go.

[Berus]

Berus sat on the ground, rubbing his sore mouth, as he watched the large, powerful looking man easily dispatch the three drunkards. They seemed horribly uncoordinated compared to the fighter, who had obviously trained himself and his body to fight, and fight well. Berus wiped his mouth, frowning at the blood, as he attempted to stop the world from spinning long enough to stand back up.

The strong man solved that problem for him, then, lifting him up easily and pulling him away from the tavern. He felt as if he were a small doll, being tossed around by these stronger men... How could he ever become a great hero, a great warrior, if he was able to be pushed around like this?

The man let him go then, and Berus stared at him, eyes shifting between green and brown as his emotions conflicted. He shook his head, unable to say anything for a moment. That was only partially due to his swelling jaw. This man had come just in time, fortunately, and most of the pain in his face was due to slamming headfirst into the terribly cold snow.

Finally, he offered one hand for a friendly shake. "Thank you for saving me back there, stranger. I'm Berus Snowsong, a wanna-be bard and a dreamer. I wonder, do you regularly walk around looking for people to beat up?" He managed a bit of a boyish grin as his eyes settled on green.

[Darren]

Darren was rather annoyed having to break his routine run and getting involved with drunks. When he heard Berus speak his piece he glared at him trying to assess the younger bard. "You call yourself a dreamer, yet call oneself a would-be bard. Tell me, since when can one achieve their dreams with such low self confidence?" He didn't like people who had no confidence and this guy was no different. He didn't take his hand as he then turned around and continued his run around the hold.

[Berus]

Berus was a little taken aback by the man's sudden shift to rather unfriendly. This guy apparently didn't appreciate humor. He watched the man run for a moment, wiping the rest of the blood off of his lips, before making up his mind to follow, being sure to pick up his fallen lyre from where it lay forgotten in the snow.

He caught the larger man quickly enough, as the fellow had slipped back into a pace that could sustain him on a very long job and Berus was still feeling some adrenaline from the earlier confrontation. The man seemed to completely ignore him as he continued jogging, obviously thinking the slight bard to not be worth his time.

Berus's green eyes flashed blue. The man had saved him and thought him just a nobody going nowhere. Determined to prove himself, he decided to act rashly.

He pivoted suddenly on one foot and sent his right hand into a punch aimed for the man's shoulder, hoping the momentum might be able to do something.

[Darren]

Darren watched as the man threw a right at him. "Your form is off" Darren managed to chide before he weaved his body away from Berus's right. Then by using his left he pulled Berus's punch out, leading his attack outwards and in an uncomfortable position, while he held Berus's right arm he swung his left leg at the pivot foot that Berus was balancing on. Most likely causing him to trip if he didn't react in time. Either way, he would release his grip on the man, trying to throw him even more off balance if the sweep were to miss.

By then Darren stopped all thoughts of running, his body was getting heated up from the spontaneous movements and it wouldn't help with his training regiment. He then tried massaging his arms as he looked at the man. Hmm...I not one to find trouble, but rather it looks like trouble seems to find me he thought. "What do you want now? Were you looking for a beating tonight? If so I'd be happy to lay out a non-life threatening beating if you so wish." Darren said with a twisted smile, his god complex coming into full view as he finished the light massage and adjusted his gloves nonchalantly. His arms were still somewhat sore from the flux usage but it was nothing he couldn't handle. He chuckled darkly as he watched the bard's reaction.

[Berus]

Berus was tripped up by the sweeping leg, unable to dodge the unexpected attack. Sadly enough, that was the second punch that was completely evaded and countered that day. He hit the ground with a roll, however, and used the spin to get himself back up on his feet. He rubbed his face for a second to get rid of the burning snow as he eyed his opponent warily. The man was very confident, as he nonchalantly adjusted his gloves, and overconfidence generally led to a downfall… but this man’s confidence was certainly justified by his skill and strength.

The gap between them was very large indeed, but perhaps this could be a learning experience for the bard. He certainly needed to learn how to fight if he ever expected to go traveling around doing deeds worthy of being written down. Whatever happened, though, this was a challenge and he wanted to give this man a run for his money. Perhaps if straight forward punches wouldn’t work, a surprise attack would.

Berus grinned disarmingly at the larger man. “If you want to give me a beating, go ahead, but I do expect an introduction first! I do believe you forgot to shake my hand..?” He raised his hand back up. His eyes flashed blue as he readied himself.

[Darren]

Darren watched with a bemused face as the man was actively trying to upstage him. "Hehe, Darren WhiteVine" he said with an arrogant undertone, smacking his hand away, "And yours? I don't tend to remember SnowSong people."

[Berus]

Berus wasted no time. He quickly grabbed the wrist of the man's hand. He pulled hard and jumped up, kicking hard with his left leg aimed at the man's face. He grinned slightly as he managed to not stumble; a rare event. Hopefully he could land the blow and send the man to the ground. If not, this bold move could prove disastrous.

But when pressed, you had to act rashly.

[Darren]

Darren suddenly felt his arm tugged on as he smacked the man's away. "Hmm?" he managed to say as his attention suddenly snapped back into focus. He watched as the man tried to raise his leg to hit his head. The weird arch surprised Darren as he suddenly lost focus causing the attack hit him. "Oh...?" he called out as the foot hit his shoulder, "ow?" he said as he looked at the foot resting on his shoulder awkwardly. Apparently a 5,4 man trying to kick a 5,11 man in the head required a bit of skill before it is achievable he explained to himself quickly.

"Ahahaha," Darren laughed darkly as put his arm out and made a quick flux related palm thrust on Berus's forehead. (The one he did to the drunk leaders)

Sigh* "I should stop now before I do something totally unreasonable" he started as he adjusted his gloves again. "Here, I'll give you a chance. You have 30 seconds to convince me not to kick ur arse right here. Right now." he growled, the surprise attack didn't make him anything happy. "Let's start with why you following me."