When the massive brute released her, Ireth simply stood there. She watched him, her eyes confused as she breathed heavily through her gaping mouth. Tears began streaming down her cheeks and she swayed on her rapidly bruising legs. She was so hurt, so disgruntled. What was that guy's problem? His movements were worn, almost mechanical, though his face was aflame with drink and with hate.
The jerk left, and Ireth collapsed into a chair, sobbing. Her shoulders were still on fire, like they would never work correctly again. There was a tear in her tunic, and bruises covered her arms. It wasn't often that she got beat up, but it wasn't unheard of either. This was Ravok after all.
A light tap at her shoulder made her quickly wipe her tears away and look up. It was Jeb, the Sliver's bartender. An enormous man with a hidden past, he wiped out a mug as he spoke. "You okay girl?"
Ireth blinked more tears away and nodded. Jeb reached down and picked up her flute, undamaged by its fall save for the pigeon totem being askew. He looked at if for a moment, his rag and mug in the other had, then he placed it on the table before Ireth. He looked as though he could have snapped the poor wooden instrument without a second thought. She took it up and cradled it, retying the leather thong that held the totem figure. Jeb went back to cleaning the glass. "What the petch did ya do to piss that guy off?"
Ireth looked up at Jeb and took in a ragged breath. "I... I haven't a clue. I only asked if I could play a tune for... for him. Then he whipped around and... and..." Tears rolled again.
"Now, go on. Get on home girl."
Ireth collected up her belongings and stood up on her weary legs. They threatened to give out, but she steadied herself on the thick wooden table. Jeb went back behind the bar, leaving the suffering girl to her own devices once again. Just as she was about to stumble out the door, a chair broke on the other side of the tavern. A group of four men about the age of her brothers were hollering and gaffing at each other, drunk as petch, one going to far as to rock back in his chair and break it. The other three found this entirely too hilarious. The bar stood between where Ireth had been attacked and where these drunks were, but Ireth couldn't be certain that they didn't see her get assaulted. Then again, what did she care? The only thing she cared about right now was getting home.
Ireth paused to lean against the wall of the Sliver when she got out the door. The NHC building that her room was in was on the opposite side of the Nitrozian Plaza, off of the Plaza by a single alley. The distance though, looked tremendous. And that man was nowhere in sight.
Stuffing her flute into her bag, Ireth swung the straps gingerly onto her burning shoulders. How was it that anything could hurt that much?! She whimpered a little, then trudged on. There was a cool zephyr from the west that swam between Ravok's buildings, cooling Ireth as it flew by. Halfway across the Plaza, the four drunks stumbled from the tavern. At their ruckus, Ireth turned to look, then sped up her pace. She wanted no trouble, only to be home and for this awful day to be over with!
Then she hears the what she feels like is the worst sound in the world. A catcall. Then a couple of low whistles. Ireth ducks into the alley as quickly as she could, making no attempt at avoiding the sewage that ran down the middle of the walk.
All of a sudden, one of the men appeared at the other end of the alley, the one that opened unto the street that Ireth's NHC building was on. He had black hair and a gray tunic on, and the body of a smith. His chest was heaving, like he had run all the way around the building beside them to block the alley. Ireth was but 10 feet from him, but he rank of alcohol and she could smell it over the trash in the alley. The alley itself was about 10 feet wide. From behind her, Ireth heard a crash. She whipped around, as well her screaming body could, to see the drunk's three other companions coming down the alley after her. Their gait was sure, though their steps were slurred. One wore a green tunic, another had brown hair, and the last had fierce, cold eyes. All four of the men were well built, each at least 6 feet tall. The one with the brown hair Ireth thought she recognized, a dockworker perhaps, she wasn't sure.
Ireth felt tears welling up in her eyes again. She wiped them away angrily, if she couldn't see, what good would she be?
The man with the black hair reached Ireth first. "Hey there, my pretty. What'cha doin' out so late?"
Ireth backed herself up against a wall, looking at him and back at the other three. "Oh, by Rhysol, please. Have mercy!"
The ruffian with the steely eyes leaned up against the wall beside Ireth. "What? Mercy? Why, we only wanted a bit of company. And you're so purdy..." He gripped her upper arm and squeezed. Ireth gritted her teeth and shrugged his hand off. One of the men grunted a laugh.
"Come on guys, please let me be..." Her pleas fell on deaf ears.
"What's this?" The black-haired punk grabbed Ireth's wrist and yanked it up to look at it. Her shoulder twisted and she gave out a cry. Her arm was black and blue already, from the ruffian in the Silver Sliver. "Looks like someone's already had their way with her! How about that?" All of the men heehawed, the drink in their stomachs fueling the fire in their eyes.
"Let go of me!" Ireth wrenched her arm away. She had nothing; no weapon of any sort.
One of the men threw a huge, dirty hand over her mouth. "Hush now, birdy. We don't want our friends the Ebonstryfe to come and hurt you, now do we?"
The man's hand made Ireth want to gag, but she saw an opportunity. She bit deeply into the fleshy part of the hand, hard enough to draw blood. The brute shouted, grabbing his hand in shock. Ireth raced forward through the gap in the men that the wounded one left. The alley opened up to her, even though it was the way back to the Plaza. She didn't care one bit, she just ran.
She ran unlike anytime she'd ever run before. Her chest and shoulders screeched in pain, like cats. But she wouldn't let herself stop, even when she sloshed through the sewage and out onto the Plaza. Her gait began to limp, her injuries from earlier making her woozy with pain.
"Help! Oh, Rhysol! Help me! Somebody, please!"
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