[The Spinning Coin] Trouble-Makers {Shiress}

[Kaizar Hearthglen]

After having walked around the city, Kaizar felt bored, and then he said to himself "Maybe i'll check out at the gambling place, maybe the god of luck is with me"
And with that thought in mind he walked toward the place,

As he walk he heard a commotion, and decided to see it, from a distant he saw the silhouette, of five people.

As he observed he reason with himself, three girls and two men, what would they be doing?

Out of curiosity he decided to approach the group.
And when he realized that its a fight he just stand there, leaning againts the wall, while smoking on some tobaccos that he bought earlier in the market.

While watching them he became just a little full of himself and shouted to the man who is wrestling in the ground
"Hey, seriously? fighting a girl? what a weakling!"
Exhaling a cloud of smoke.
Then he said again "Hey ladies, need a hand? or if you don't mind, i'll just stand here and finish my smoke"
While blowing another cloud of smoke and leaning on the wall.

[Shiress]

Shiress snorted with a laugh. "Act drunk? Doe'kay!" The girl knew that would come easy enough. Had it not been for the tight grip the man held around her neck, she might not have been able to even walk a straight line to the door of the tavern.

As soon as she figured Hadyn understood her predicament, her hands fell clumsily by her sides as the oath of a man led the two ladies in and out and in between the the many patrons that crossed their path to the door.

Once outside, Shiress' eye brows arched and her mouth fell open, Hadyn wasted no time to begin her ruse, and gods was she good at it. Hadyn glanced toward the girl and called an unfamiliar name and after a bewildered twist and stumble to look around behind her to see no one there, it finally dawned on the barmaid that she had addressed her. "Oh, yeah. Right." She said, acting as if she had no doubt who she referred to.

Shiress took a step toward the two to join in on the act, but stopped short as Hadyn began her attack and the man doubled over in pain. All Shiress could do was watch and wait with wide eyes, hoping that Hadyn knew what she was doing and by the looks of it, she did.

The girl covered a gasp with her hand as the metal knife blade caught the hint of torch light. Hadyn came barreling backwards, her back meeting Shiress' front, pushing her further back away from the swinging knife. The blacksmith's order for Shiress was met with a sinister look of approval from the girl and she stepped around the woman with a wicked grin spreading across her lips. She took a step toward the offending swine, standing sideways at his front. Closing her fist, she swung her leg around and her foot met with the man's face with a loud thud and the man tumbled over to his side, blood trickling from the corner of his mouth. Not heeding the last bit of Hadyn's order, the girl didn't hightail it anywhere. Instead, she stood staring at her attacker proudly before stepping up closer to the mans face and lifted her foot with the intentions of kicking the man one last time, but she wasn't so lucky the second go round.

As her foot left the ground, the girl slightly stumbled enough to throw off her balance. Her leg swung around, but missed it's target, taking the rest of Shiress' balance with it causing the barmaid to fall rear-end first against the ground with a thump. The prone man immediately saw an opportunity to lurch toward Shiress, but even as intoxicated as she was, she had the mind enough to scoop up a fistful of dirt and sling it into the man's face. As the man's thick fingers worked to clear his vision, Shiress lept to her feet and moved quickly away pulling Hadyn by the arm without a word said.

"Isolde?" Shiress stopped in her tracks as the Nuit came crashing through the exit and ran toward them. "Run? Why? He ain't going no where." As she spoke, Shiress threw her thumb over her shoulder so the Nuit could see that the problem had already been solved. Just then, the girl was shoved to the ground and a huge form of a man followed to hold her there. "What the shyke!" Now that really hacked off the barmaid good. Without a thought, an uninebriated thought that is, Shiress awkwardly scanned the ground around her. Spotting a large rock, she plucked it from the dirt. With her weapon held high above her head, she moved in behind the Nuit's attacker and swung her arm as hard as she could, hitting the man in the back of the head and the brute hit the ground and didn't move.

The barmaid grabbed up the Nuit. "You OK? Did he hurt ya? She asked, but not giving anytime for answers, she stepped away again pulling Isolde with her. Not more than two steps and Shiress noticed a man leaning against the wall with a cloud of smoke outlining his features as he spoke. Without a word, the barmaid pulled Isolde around and slid herself and the Nuit behind Hadyn. Leaning down and placing her lips close to the girls ear, Shiress whispered. "It's safer back here." She nodded her head in agreement to her own observation before giving Isolde an inebriated embrace while glancing over her shoulder to the once prone man now making it to his feet. She gently tapped Hadyn's shoulder.

[Hadyn Skellig]

This was turning nasty real quick. Shiress, for all her drunk gusto, managed to land a kick but instead of fleeing as Hadyn suggested, the girl stuck around. The man gained the upper hand by knocking Shiress to the ground but the auburn haired girl was a quick thinker, catapulting dirt into the petcher's eyes. Scrambling up and tucking tail, Shiress moved behind Hadyn as the man clawed at the grit, spitting curses at them.

"Well played but you were better off -," the blacksmith's dry remark was cut off as the Nuit made her second appearance of the night, barreling toward them with panic written across her pale face. The brunette was ready to push Shiress further away as the Nuit's aggressor grappled her to ground but the barmaid wasn't finished playing Knight. She slammed a rock down on the man's head and snatched Isolde up before returning to her location behind Hadyn. There were now two furious wounded men roiling from Shiress' heroics.

"You girls sure know how to stir up trouble," Hadyn muttered as she bent over to snatch the dagger from her boot.

Shiress' bloke was staggering to his feet, knife still slashing blindly, cussing and snarling like a sailor. Avoiding the first swipe of the blade, the brunette ducked and came up with a fist to his gut, though she misjudged his trajectory. Her hit landed in his chest which likely hurt her more than him. It knocked him enough off balance that he back peddled, but not before striking her heavily in her face with a balled fist. Nearly dropping the knife the blacksmith recoiled, stars alight in her vision as she staggered to the side, a hand flying to her jaw as her teeth rattled. The second man was pulling up after an assault by a rock, also hurtling obscenities toward the girls. Still dazed from the punch, Hadyn attempted a strike with the dagger, but he easily caught her wrist and bent her arm away before backhanding her.

Tripping backward Hadyn dropped down, landing heavily on one hip as she shook her head quickly. She'd dropped the dagger, eyes squinting in the poor light she searched with open hands for the blade as the man towered over her. She was livid the first man's hit had disoriented her so, jaw clenched as she finally made contact with the hilt of her dagger. But her progress was swiftly halted as a boot smashed upon her hand, splaying her fingers away from gripping the weapon. The woman howled and dragged her hand from his foot as he lifted it, only to kick forward against her sternum. But Hadyn was already moving away, up on her knees when his boot met her chest. It wasn't a hard hit as she was retreating anyway, but it was enough to send her on her back, head hitting the ground heavily.

"Petch!" she groaned, turning away from him and hoping Isolde and Shiress were keeping themselves out of danger. Hadyn was not a particularly skilled fighter, having had no formal training beyond bar fights and self defense. Two against one was not only sorely unfair but she wasn't nearly capable enough to tackle both men alone. Hadyn's style of fisticuffs was more in line with the feral instincts of a caged animal rather than the finesse of a trained fighter. Whatever kick or hit landed, that would do and if she could escape, she would. But there was also the girls to consider so instead of doling out a few disarming punches before leaving she resigned herself to hold them off long enough for Isolde and Shiress to flee. "Where are t'mother petchin' Knights when you need them."

[Kaizar Hearthglen]

Kaizat exhales another clouds of smoke. He just stay in his place still leaning againts the wall and observing the fight.
He thought to himself "Wow, they know how to fight, girls are much stronger than they look." He chuckled.
Apparently one of the woman notice him.
"She thinks i'm some kind of bad person."
"It turns out to be a nice fight"
He was just leaning there and pulling up his sleeves, the man just stand there and observe, he was just waiting.

"Well i could learn a thing or two about fighting from them" he said to himself.

He called out "Hey, need a hand?" , while blowing out another cloud of smoke.

[Isolde Seibold]

OOCHah, no, you're doing great! Hadyn's certainly doing better than Isolde would be... Speaking of which...

The Nuit's world had turned into one of pure, unadulterated, confusing, terrifying sensations. The hot breath of the man as he wrestled with her, stinking and stale, the scent of chain-smoked cigarettes revolting. The rasp of his callused hands against her wrists, pinning her weak, thin arms in place, the weight of his huge body pressing hers into the ground, constricting her, too close, he was too close, she had to get away. Her hair had ripped free of its tie in the scuffle, flung into her face, into her eyes, her hood gone askew, further blocking her vision, and there was nothing in her but panic and fight, she had to get away, she had to get away, she had to get away, now. But her ineffective wriggling and struggling and twisting was just that-- ineffective. There was no way she was getting free. He was going to hurt her, or grab her up and take her back to the Coin, and gods only knew what might happen then--

And then there was a wet, sick thud, the man's forehead jerked forward, bashing into hers, knocking stars in front of her eyes, glimmering like the night sky, brilliant... and suddenly he had shifted off of her and she was being dragged up, lifted to stumble to her feet, her cold, pale hands grasping with all their might to her savior's arm... and it was Shiress. Shiress' voice breathing in her ear, and the Nuit was so glad that it was her, Shiress, thank the gods. "You OK? Did he hurt ya? It's safer back here." The Nuit staggered blindly along as the girl tugged at her, hair a mess, hood pulled mostly over her face, head ringing, panting uncontrollably, panicking. She still wanted to run, that was the only thing to do, because her pursuer was slowly coming back to himself, she could see him shaking his head, trying to get it on straight, rocking to his hands and knees, and he was still pissed. It was all the Nuit could do to stammer out, "I-- I th-think j-just br-bruises-- I-- I'm o-okay." But right now was not the time for taking inventory of herself, now was the time to go. "Sh-Shiress, get Hadyn, w-we need t-to--"

And then her pursuer lurched into action, disoriented enough that he was no longer focused on the Nuit, but somehow she was not glad. Because he had focused on Hadyn, Hadyn who was the most able to fight back, the most threatening, and Hadyn who was being attacked not only by him, but by-- by some other man that Isolde didn't even recognize. And it was only then that the Nuit noticed a third man, leaning against the wall, blowing smoke, and she wanted to scream at him, What are you doing just standing there, gods! But no, he didn't matter-- Shiress mattered-- Hadyn mattered, she had to help. Gods, but what was she supposed to do? Her head hurt, the bruise already blossoming out from her hairline, ugly black-and-purple-and-blue, the dead blood waiting dormant in her veins having nothing better to do, having nowhere else to go, pooling beneath her pale skin. She put a hand to her head, pushing her hair out of her face, and panted out, "Wh-What am I doing? Wh-What do I d-do?"

The first thing that sprang to mind through the chaos of her panic was Get Shiress away. The second thing, coming through clearly and loudly, was Help Hadyn. But how? What was someone like her supposed to do, she couldn't think.

No matter, she would figure something out, but first she needed to get Shiress away. The Nuit was still clutching to the girl's arm... now she yanked at her, trying to get her moving, saying, "Come'on, Sh-Shiress, move! W-We need to l-l-leave-- now! Q-Quick!" The Nuit, in her small body, could not really hope to move the girl if she didn't want to go... but at least she could try. Isolde pushed and pulled at her, getting her moving, go, go, go. The urgency was clear in the Nuit's trembling voice. Probably Shiress would catch a taste of her panic and decide that really there were better places to be-- really any place was better than this, as long as they didn't head back into the Coin.

With Shiress (hopefully) mobilized, or at least ready to make a quick exit, Isolde released her. What now, what now, have to help, what now? But how? Wound up as she was, she found herself breathing out the words, the makeshift rhyme turning into something of an oddball song. "What now, but how? What now~" And then her eyes landed on the rock that Shiress had smashed into her own pursuer's head and she bumbled in that direction, leaning down to scoop it up, and gods it was heavy.

Okay, she had the rock, what now? Hadyn was being attacked, she had to help. The rock could help. The rock-- The Nuit staggered forward, heaving it, and then smashed it down on someone's fingers, praying they weren't Hadyn's, and her head was really hurting-- but the responding chorus of screams and oaths were a man's shrieking baritone, not Hadyn at all, so the Nuit supposed she had got one of the right people. The man was too busy snatching at his hand, screaming like a banshee, writhing around, to make a grab for the Nuit, so she just stepped over him, nearly losing her balance, trying to sort out who was what-- Hadyn and the other man, it was the big one, her pursuer, all tangled together, rolling around, scratching and fighting.

"What now?" Something glittering caught her eye, lying by the man whose fingers she had broken to pieces-- but no, no, no she didn't want to think about that. So she dropped down, trembling hands seizing it up before someone else could, the thing shining dully silver... and it was a knife. The Nuit almost dropped it again, recoiling, but somehow her fingers managed to clutch to it, managed to keep hold-- probably because they weren't nearly as broken as his. Don't think about it, he'll be-- be okay-- But Hadyn. Help her. Got the knife. Now help her. But how?

For a long moment the Nuit stood over the pair, shaking very hard, numb, trying to think and not think, because she had a knife in her hands. And then she sprang forward --it was more of a fall, really, tripping over the broken-fingered man-- and the knife was somehow stuck into her pursuer's big shoulder, and gods was that blood on her hands? Terrified now, the Nuit let go of the knife which stayed stuck in his flesh, and tried to get up and away from him, calling out, "H-Hadyn?" She was trying to block out the new howls that had been added to the night, trying, too, to block out the vision of red streaming down the man's arm-- and then his murderous eyes locked on her, and he made an awkward, one-armed grab for her, yanking her leg out from under her and she went down, her elbow plunging into the broken-fingered man's stomach, oof! and he was gasping under her, and she was squirming over him, kicking her feet at the shoulder-knifed man, trying to break free, and she couldn't believe what she had just done, gods.

OOCLooonng post again, so sorry! But maybe one of them is effectively taken out?

[Shiress]

Shiress continued a few paces in the direction the Nuit had pushed her only to stop a few feet from the entrance of The Coin, distracted by a couple that came stumbling out the establishment. All hugged up and engaged in a passionate lip lock, the two were obviously looking for a more private area to continue what they had started. The lovers paused by the door long enough for the man to press the woman against the wall with his body, one hand slipping under her blouse, the other sitting a half empty mug down on a random chair sat by the door and neither of them parting lips to come up for air.

Disgusting! Shiress thought to herself while giving the pair a sour look. Of course, she was more jealous than anything, but she'd never admit it. The woman pulled away and whispered something in the man's ear that was followed directly with a quick squeeze to the woman's rear-end, then with a jolt, the two bounced off into the shadows, Shiress' green eyes following their forms until they disappeared. Shaking her head with feigned disgust, the girl turned back to the abandoned ale still sitting on the chair and, with a menacing grin spreading her pale lips, she stepped or rather tripped up to the chair, almost toppling her prize, and picked up the mug to examine it's contents thoughtfully.

As the mug was lifted to her lips, a loud, deep toned wail came from behind her, spinning her around and back to reality. She lept forward, taking a couple steps before stopping in her tracks as a cold sweat formed. Did that Nuit just...noooo, course not, she...Oh no... Isolde shifted enough for the flickering light from a near by wall lamp to catch the glinting steel protruding from the man's shoulder. Shiress stood frozen, this fight just got real serious and Shiress just got real scared.

With the thought that Isolde would retreat and Hadyn would follow, the barmaid remained where she was, her eyes watching the man flailing around holding his hand, the other taken aback by a knife blade to his shoulder, but the petchers were relentless, or at least, invincible it seemed. The Nuit was pulled to the ground kicking off the stabbed attacker again and gods only knew which one was Hadyn. With a deep breath, and of course, a quick pause to empty the mug, held in her hand, down her throat, Shiress stumbled toward her friends.

Regaining her inebriated courage, she stepped around Isolde, raising the weapon high above her head and aiming it squarely for the back of the man's skull, but hesitated, her green eyes fixating on the much better weapon dangling from the man's arm. With out a sober thought, her fingers wrapped around the hilt of the dagger and jerked it from the man's flesh. She observed the curved dagger blade dizzily for half a tick before lifting it over her head and shoving it somewhere into the back of Isolde's attacker. The man's body became ridged before falling limp against the ground.

Shiress stumbled backwards, looking down at the Nuit. "I...I...had to." She stammered, her face growing pale. "He would'of killed you if I...." Her words trailed off as she became dizzy and weak, stumbling backwards then fell to her knees. Struggling to remain upright, she glanced around until her eyes settled on Hadyn. "I think I need another drink cause this is real wrong, right?" She arched a brow and rolled her eyes around to the man still motionless in the dirt. "Oops?" She whispered before an ill timed snorted chuckle.





OOCYou know you two saw this coming!! LOL!

[Hadyn Skellig]

The brunette let the swiftly spinning world slow enough that the stars weren't whipping across her vision, another groan emitted as she rolled to the side. Dirt and rough ground met her, bruising exposed flesh and encouraging her to just rest for a moment. But her adrenaline was still coursing madly and she had to react. Scrabbling with tired fingers for her dagger the woman moved on hands and knees to locate the weapon, the sound of cries and shouts echoing in the balmy night. Taking a moment to establish her bearings Hadyn looked up to see Isolde grappling with her aggressor, kicking and clawing like a beast.

Blinking with delayed reflexes, the weaponsmith staggered to uneven feet, the exertion causing her lungs to burn from the force of the man's kick. Raising an arm to cough into the brunette nearly missed Shiress entering the fray. Where the petch did she come from? Bodies tumbled and collided in the shadows, masses of darkness with the occasional flash of teeth and illuminated hair. It wasn't until she saw the glint of the blade that Hadyn realized what was transpiring.

"Steady th-" her voice died as the dagger came whistling forward, sinking with a sickening crush of flesh, muscle and bone into the man's body. Shit. Shiress may've just committed murder. Hadyn's hazy vision couldn't detect any movement from the bastard. The girl was babbling but all Hadyn could hear was the sound of her shackles when the Knights came to cart her to the Tank. Wiping sweat from her eyes the brunette staggered toward the pair, over-wrought mind calculating the best course of action. One man had been felled. The other was groaning pitifully over his broken fingers, whimpering in the throes of tumultuous inebriation. They couldn't very well leave him.

Taking a haggard step toward him Hadyn first snatched Shiress' mug then grabbed a fist-full of hair, yanking his head up to nearly break the pottery across his face. His head jerked to the side, blood splattering against the ground and the trousers of a man leaning against the wall. Already failing in consciousness, the fellow slumped to the side but not without shooting a broken hand her way, aimlessly swinging for her. Hadyn threw the mug with all the weight of her arm against his head again, the sound of bone splintering and skin squishing once again echoing. Dropping him from her grip, the woman held the bloodied mug and stared at Isolde and Shiress.

"No," she rasped, shaking her head with a sigh. "No more drinkin' for you."

She glanced to the side, tilting the bloodstained mug in the direction of their taciturn observer. Hadyn strongly disliked his voyeuristic tendencies and privately wondered how long he'd been standing there watching while the three women received a beating. Brown eyes glared threateningly at him though she maintained a quiet tone.

"Don't expect 'ny trouble from you, hm?"

It wasn't so much of a question as it was an order. She didn't want to be responsible for braining another idiot but the fellow's manner had her on edge and the three of them needed to be going. And soon. Shiress' drunken antics would not be taken lightly by the Knights and, self-defense or not, it would be a tough case to argue. They all needed to part ways and sleep it off. Stay away from the Coin for a spell. Let things simmer down. Hopefully neither of the blaggards were dead but Hadyn wasn't stopping to check for pulses.

[Kaizar Hearthglen]

Kaizar still leaning on his back against the wall, and finishing his last smoke.
still shocked and awed at the recent incident. He paused for a moment, then he look at the girls, one of them seems to be suspicious of him, then he heard her say "Don't expect 'ny trouble from you, hm?".
He noticed that she is observing him carefully.
He stood straight from his leaning position, get another selfmade cigar out of his pocket, and then lighting it up, took a couple breath of smokes then began to walk toward them. But he stood meters away from the girls and the man lying in the ground.
He replied

"Trouble? no ma'am, I was just on my way to the Coins, then this happen so i just stay and watch for a bit"
Switching his gaze down to the ground he shook his head.
"And by the way, somebody need to clean up the mess here.", "The name's Kaizar, ma'am. Oh and by the way, can you teach me a thing or two about fighting?"

[Isolde Seibold]

They were all saying things. The Nuit could hear their voices, Shiress' and Hadyn's and the man against the wall, even his-- but somehow their words weren't words to her, and she couldn't understand what they were talking about.

For a few ticks after Hadyn had smashed the mug into the man's head, the Nuit could do nothing. She just sat and stared and thought that her head was really hurting, still, and certainly that was why she felt so damn confused. She was having trouble thinking how this had happened. One thing had led to another, that was all she could think. But what did that mean? She didn't know. Everything was jumbled in her mind. There had been the Coin and the fight and then coming outside, running, and then twisting around on the ground and the rock and the man's fingers and the knife and then-- then-- then she was lost. There was a gap. It didn't make sense. The knife was important. The knife in his shoulder. The knife in Shiress' hand. The knife in his back-- But how had it happened? One thing had led to another. But how had it happened?

She didn't know.
Yes, for a few ticks she could do nothing but stare, and wonder, and let her head hurt.

And then those ticks had passed and she found that she was moving. She yanked her legs out from underneath her pursuer's body. She was crouching next to him. Her hands were pressed to the wound at his back and the blood --so red it was screaming at her-- was there on her hands again, fresh and wet and so petching red, and she was pressing so hard that she thought it should just go back in, didn't it know that it wasn't supposed to be oozing out between her fingers, didn't it know any better? She was pressing so hard and it should have been hurting him, and he was not moving. Not at all. Not even to draw breath. And suddenly her mouth had moved, and she said, "He's dead." She brought her hands away from his wound, trying not to get more blood on her skirt. And her lips were moving again, forming words mercifully free of the stutter, and she was saying, "It's not your fault." She thought that she must have been talking to Shiress.

And that was right, wasn't it? It wasn't Shiress' fault. No. Somehow it was Isolde's fault, she didn't know how but it must be. These things that happened, they were always her fault, one way or another. This was no different. It had to do with the knife. If only she hadn't picked up the knife. If only she hadn't done that, she was certain that things would have been different.

She had turned away from the dead man and towards the other. Isolde put a hand against his chest, and felt it rise and fall. Alive. This one was alive, then. Breathing. Thank the gods. That meant that she could help him. She had to help him. "We have to help him--" The words again, smoothly from her mouth, and this was for Hadyn, right? Hadyn, who looked like she wanted to go right now, before the Knights--

The Knights. Oh gods, the Knights.

The Nuit would probably be dead because of it --haha, dead, good one, dead, how had this happened and her head hurt-- but she couldn't go. No. Instead her hands were grabbing up the man's head, tilting his face forward, his broken face dripping blood. His nose was smashed and gushing, and the skin was split nastily along his eyebrow in a wide, ugly, bleeding gash, pouring blood in a sheet down his face, adding to the mess of it all. She didn't know how to help him. She could tilt his head so the blood wouldn't go into his mouth and down his throat, choking him-- or into his stomach, making him retch, and that would choke him just as much. But what else? She needed a press for his eyebrow, to stop the bleeding there. What about his nose? She couldn't fix that, couldn't set it, he needed someone better than her, a doctor or a Knight or someone, anyone better. "I d-don't know how to h-help him." Now the despair and fear had crept back into her voice. How to help him? And gods, her head was hurting. Not as bad as his. She shushed the thought to silence, looking helplessly, imploringly at the others. "We c-can't just leave him, c-can we?" The Nuit shook her head. "W-We c-can't."

[Shiress]

Shiress didn't move. Wobbling about as she was, she was able to support herself on her knees, but became very quiet. Hadyn grabbed the empty mug and slammed it across the mans head, laying him out by the other fella whom Isolde now wiggled her way out from under. The world didn't exist now to the inebriated barmaid glaring thoughtlessly at the man's body settling back to the ground as the Nuit stood and examined his limp form.

Green eyes lifted unsteadily to Hadyn as she spoke her opinion of a future of sobriety for the girl, but Shiress remained in her quiet state and dropped her gaze again. Had the scarce light been better, those remaining on their feet around her would have noticed her face draw up and her eyes fill with tears. Some where inside herself, she knew she shouldn't have drank so much. A wished forgotten past, such as hers, always reared its ugly head when fed by alcohol.

Her face turned back to Isolde as she spoke, still running her hands across the man's body. Dead? No, he's not dead. The Nuit wanted to help him, help the man that wanted and tried desperately to hurt her. This didn't make sense to a drunk mind. You don't help someone who you had to fend off. Do you? Why does that petcher deserve--help? She never got help..back then. "He's not dead." Moaned Shiress, staggering to her feet. "You hear me? He's- Not- DEAD!" Her tone grew with every word, the last being an all out yell in the Nuit's face as she grabbed her by the arm, yanking her around to face her. "He's not!" Her words were saturated with anger, but her face adorned a tearful expression of one begging to be right.

She shoved the tiny framed girl away and covered her face with her hands. "Why help him? huh? Why? Do you think that petcher would'a helped you or me?" She jerked her arms down by her side, becoming more agitated. "No! The shyke would'a left us where we lay! and you.. She turned to face Hadyn, her tone still harsh. "Why should I not drink? Do you actually think the coward you first met tonight would have stopped a man from hurting someone? Could she stop a man from hurting her own self season after season?" She stumbled toward the blacksmith, her face contorting into a more angered look as her tone lowered. "No. She's nothing, she means nothing to no one. She's a slave, a slave girl."

Shiress became silent and fell back hard against the wall, dropping her face. Her hands curled into tight fists as frustration, anger and hurt festered and grew to pass through gritted teeth and parted lips as a beast like roar. "Graaar!!" Her body jerked away from the wall toward Hadyn, but she staggered two paces too far. Stumbling back to the blacksmith, she snatched the shard glass from her hand. "Do what you will with the pigs, let um bleed or help um, but leave me be. I don't need you or anyone else anymore. I'M a slave, remember? I can't even petching say thank you right. Shyke, I prolly didn't do it right neither." She walked away, glancing back over her shoulder. "Nice to meet ya Isolde. It was my fault, not yours."

Walking away, her legs crossed as she attempted to straighten her gate. The deliriously drunk girl stumbled and fell against the wall again but remained on her feet to force herself upright. The barmaid continued on to zigzag her way awkwardly from the chaotic scene behind her, hesitating once to snatch the onlooker's smoke from his mouth and toss it back over her shoulder.

Petcher


OOCUgh I feel like this was a crappy post. If anything, I hope it makes sense.