Open [Tall Johnny's] Bludo Jr.

[Gad]

Winter 37, 513AV Tall Johny's Casino & Cage Fights This was a good place to get lost. It was crowded in this place, especially in winter, when the gambling bums want something with four walls to loose their money. Other bums came to fight. And others just came to watch. Gad was in the foremost category, however. Gad observed the nights fighting stock one by one. That one is muscley-fat, pale, balding, looks a little tipsy, grizzled features... still, only five five...., short reach. Top heavy though, massive hands,... then there's that one. Gad size up the competition. Six one. But he's damn skinny. Scrappy, maybe. Younger. Doesn't look afraid at least. Keeps his chin up.. Gad noted the differences but kept on looking. Next one was young than the first and older than the second, only 5'6, but built athletically, he had a face that looked used to punishment, was bald, and had a bushy beard. Gad saw all of this, and noted the fighter's cocky look. "Maybe." he muttered. There was a couple of slaves who'd be fighting as well. They looked more promising than the free men. Both were around six feet, late twenties, hardy like constant field work makes you.. One was missing the lower part of his right arm, but even his stump looked like it could do some damage. The other man was mostly intact, but compared to the first he was a little on the skinny side, though not as much as the free kid Gad saw earlier. And Gad could see that he had many more whip lashes than the one-handed slave, by the number of scars on his back. He also looked more anxious, and Gad could sense apprehension in his body language. Once all the fighters had been showed, it was time to place bets. Gad made his decision on who would win and took his chances. Gad placed his twelve silver Mizas at the betting counter and took his seat. He'd seen Tall Johnny over there waxing his mustache. Gad didn't approach him, that guy seemed like more of a mascot than a human being. Gad recognized the slick characteristics, and didn't want to get sold any bridges. Gad pushed some preteen cretins out of his spot, shooing them off from his mid-height seats. The place was decently populate, but Gad managed to get his area relatively secluded from the crowd, and he had a comfortable barrier of vacant spaces littered around him. Well, and also litter. Which probably explained why there was no one around if you thought about it. But, Gad didn't mind, it wasn't his garbage, and ironically enough it kept the "flies" away. Maybe it was the weather or something in the air, but Gad was feeling especially nihilistic today. Going through the motions, waiting for something bad to happen. It was odd that he was so anxious. In Sunberth there was always something bad happening. It was all around, he just didn't want it to happen to him. He hoped making some coin on this fight would get his mind off of it. The bell rung, and the first round of fighting began. The Two-handed whipped slave, so-called Crusher, was fighting the bushy-bearded bald man. Baldy was moving quick on his feet, weaving in and out from Crusher's swings. Crusher did land a few blows, though they weren't all that crushing. Baldy played a good defense. Gad rubbed his chin and speculated that Baldy would win. Then, the wizard's ear twitched, and he twisted around to look at whoever was sitting behind him. No one he recognized, and none met his eyes, all of them were focused on the fighting. Gad had the impression of being watched. His eye's ping-ponged left to right, the right to left, but he didn't see anyone familiar. He shrugged it off at went back to watching the fight.

[Buras]

Buras stood in the back, looking at all the fighters. He had a nice spot away from the crowd, but still able to see the fight. Buras sat patiently in the back, waiting for the fights to begin. When the bell rang, he decided that the fight wasn't that interesting and to look for something a bit more interesting. His eyes first landed on a tall man, with an over waxed mustache. He is either important, or he thinks he is. Buras thought to himself. Then his eyes landed on a man that looked disheveled at best. He saw the man turn around and look over the crowd, and then back at the fight. Now that man, on the other hand, is either paranoid or expecting someone. Either way, he seems important. And with that thought, Buras kept an eye on that person, but trying to be as discreet about it as possible.

[Gad]

Gad focused on the fight, hopping it'd keep his mind off the anxiety knotting up in his stomach. He leaned on his left hand and narrowed his eyes. The Scarred Slave swung wide and wildly. He had the physical training, judging by his physique, but Gad noted that the stouter, bearded-bald man had the moves of a professional. He had the look in his eye of someone who not only did this for a living, but for fun. Gad surmised that he'd probably take his winnings and funnel them into his own training. The stout man's movement's kept him away from the reach of the considerably larger slave, who was tiring himself out. Even when the slave did connect a hit, it was nothing tremendous and the prize-fighter managed to block it. Members of the crowd who had skin in the game were booing, and yelling at him to put his head down, keep is hands up, move, stay still. Gad could tell the poor brute wasn't too bright by the confused look in his eyes. Probably a slave since birth. Keep em dumb, makes it easy. Sorry bastard. Gad felt justified in his sour assessment as the bearded man went on the offensive. It only took a few targeted blows for him to get the slave on the ground. Once he was down, it was all over. The slave's owner called the fight before his property could be damaged too much. "Heh, called it." Gad mumbled. Tall Johny came out to crown the stout bearded man as the winner of Round One. Next round would be the scrawny boxer against Gad's choice, the One-Handed slave. Before Gad rose to his feet he could see the Scarred Slave getting hit with a riding crop for the loss. Gad suppressed a sneer. As he stood up and spun around he caught a glimpse of a crow perched in the rafters. It was particularly fat and healthy looking from what Gad observed, but that wasn't the weird part. Gad furrowed his brow and stared it down eye to eye. Was it...was it looking at him? It was. Gad shrugged it off, started to walk away, did a double take, and continued on his way. He was going towards the bar. "Maybe this'll be more interesting if I'm liquored u-uh!" Gad tripped and hit the floor with his chin. "Gah! Who did that!?" From the shadows stepped forward an imposing figure. He was an inch under Gad's height, but his arms were twice as thick. His head was shaved bald, something common of fighters, and he had pugilist's nose. His youthful complexion placed him around Gad's own age, give or take, and he had a malicious smirk pulled across a mouth of missing, misshaped and broken teeth. Gad had by this time tumbled around so that he was on his back. He stared at the man standing there as he slid away from him slowly. Gad noticed the man looked familiar. Not one of the fighters from today, like someone Gad knew a long time ago, but the Wizard couldn't put his finger on it. The man stood there, watching, as Gad scooted to a comfortable distance and stood up. Gad brushed himself off while maintaining eye contact. "Did you trip me for a reason?" "Yeah." The goon stood there licking his chops. How surprising, Gad mused another degenerate in Sunberth. "And uh...what would that be?" Gad rubbed his chin. "Just even'in the score." The brute swung for Gad, and his hefty fist put Gad back on the floor. Before he could scramble to his feet, he felt a shin hit him in the ribs. Gad went with the momentum and rolled away, and once again got his feet under him. His assailant approached with slow but purposed pace, one that matched Gad's own shuffle backwards. "Hey, hey! Man- I-I don't know what I did to you, but can't we talk about this? We can work something out!" Even as Gad bargained, he scanned the area for something to hit this guy with. They'd moved closer to the casino end of the joint, which was less populated today than the small arena around the cage fights. Most people were ignoring the brawl; everyone who wanted to see a fight could see pros doing it down in the cage, so why waste attention on some amateurs scuffling it out? Gad found what he was looking for. He snatched a mostly empty metal mug off of a nearby table, and tossed it's contents in his attackers face. The monster-man grinned at the futile attack. Gad would capitalize on this. He slid his mitt through the mug's metal handle and threw a stiff armed punch that scored a strike on his foe's nose. The man reeled for a split second then put his dukes up, a renewed look of gleeful malice burning in his eyes. Gad didn't know how he did it, but the guy seemed real, real pissed off.

[Roy Kingsfield]

Day 37 of Winter in the Year 513 AV

Roy stood a few feet away from the jeering crowd, on the outskirts of the amphitheater seating. The roar of the crowd was almost deafening as the two fighters in the cage pummeled each other to a pulp. He pushed the thoughts of the other combatants out of his mind and bounced on the balls of his toes, tensing and then relaxing his muscles. He hadn’t been told who he was fighting, but he didn’t really care. The pent up anger that resided in his chest was purring gently, ready to rear its nasty head and strike.

His parents had been trying to get him to help out with the family business, putting more responsibility on him. He wanted nothing to do with the candle making business, but it had been passed down through each generations. They saw it as his obligation to take over after his father. They thought if they kept giving him more tasks he would have no choice but to resign to his fate.

Roy scowled and grit his teeth together. If they thought he was just going to give up and throw in the towel, they were dead wrong. He had stormed out of the house, fury coiling in the pit of his stomach, demanding to be released.

He had prowled through the streets, looking for an unsuspecting victim to take his anger out on with his fists. The streets were surprisingly empty, much to his frustration. Most people seemed to be roaming around in packs of five or six, as evening approached. As rash as he was, those odds were not in his favor and he moved on.

As he stalked through the cesspool that he lived in, he heard a dull roar coming from a building down the street. As angry as he was, his curiosity got the better of him and he felt himself being drawn towards the shabby looking building. He opened the door and hot air blew across his face created by the heat of many bodies packed together. In the center of the room he saw amphitheater styled seating looking down into a large dirt pit. Ten foot high fencing rose up from the cage towards the stands. Two men were fighting, quite viciously, he thought. Excitement raced through him as he realized he had found his outlet for the evening.

All of that had led him to this point. He had signed up for one of the fights and had been waiting impatiently, the fury bubbling inside him at a low boil. It was itching to burst free. Roy cracked his neck and shook out his arms. If the event didn’t start soon, he was just going to jump in the cage anyways and start swinging.

Finally, the large man knocked the smaller looking slave to the ground began pounding him. Before the large brute could permanently handicap his opponent, the slave owner called off the fight admitting defeat. A malevolent smile tugged at Roy’s mouth as he anticipated the upcoming match. The fury that slept in his chest, slowly began to stir as it eagerly awaited its chance to lash out.

Roy pushed passed the jeering crowd towards the stairs, leading down to the cage and took his shirt off, revealing a muscular chest. He made sure to keep himself in good shape through a vigorous workout routine involving cardio, weights and flexibility. It distracted him from the responsibilities he was supposed to have and gave him the edge he needed for his hobbies.

Roy waited for the man at the foot of the steps to open the cage door and allow him to enter. The fury in his chest twisted around his insides, eagerly awaiting the moment it would be set free. The bouncer, nodded once to Roy before opening the door, allowing him to step into the cage.

[Amora Jade]

The wonderful intoxication of the ale sent slow sparks through the young thief's head as she sipped it slowly. Normally she'd drink it as if it were water, but she had some ambition to make a little coin that day and needed to keep her mind sharp. No need in making herself even more clumsy! "I told ya not to bet on 'dat fool now di'n I? Now ya done gone and lost all ya money!" The shouting came from the other end of the tavern from some tipsy man. He was yelling at some fat sweaty guy who's hands were shaking as he tried to drink. "Yeah I know that! I jus' figured maybe you was wrong! You ain't the smartest guy I know!" Just that small insult alone was enough to initiate a fight between the two. They both stumbled and swung and barely made any contact until the smaller man pushed the larger onto his fat bottom; he immidiately took advantage of that situation and got on top of him swinging. "Tall Johnny's is where I spend most'a my time ya know 'dat! You petching fool!" For years now Amora had heard murmurs and arguments about a place called "Tall Johnny's", but she had never had the ambition to figure out what exactly the place was. She thought it was some sort of pants shop from the name of it, but they just mentioned something about a bet. A casino maybe? If it was a casino there would be a lot of drunk fools throwing their money around like they actually had some to waist. Perfect. Now just to find out where this place was, "Aye, Merv. Where is this place those two over there are fighting about?" She motioned with her head in their direction, the two were being pulled off each other by then. The old man stopped wiping the counter a moment and looked over at them, shook his head, then told Amora the directions from there. "Thanks, here ya go." She laid one silver miza on the counter, both for two mugs of ale and a bit of a tip for the directions. -- The place wasn't all that difficult to find, after a bit of walking she just decided to walk in the opposite direction of the people cursing about losing their money. Eventually she found herself in front of a large brick building, the entrance was two double doors being guarded by a pair of Akalak men. Amora eyed them as she walked in, just the sight of the two made her a bit nervous. As she entered, she was engulfed in smoke and could barely even hear her own thoughts. Sure, most of the establishments in Sunberth tended to be loud and un-clean and filled with smoke and the like, but this one exceeded the normal expectations. She looked to her right to see several different games, some with cards and some with marbles. That side wasn't nearly as crowded as the left; Amora couldn't even tell what was over there due to it being below the building level. As she listened she could hear what the people on the seats were shouting down into the hole, and came to the conclusion that it was some sort of arena. It didn't make any since to her why people found entertainment in watching people try to kill each other. It was a sickening and sad sight that she wished to avoid in most situations, but she may actually need to look like she's watching in order to steal a few coin from other spectators. First, she'd have to work up the nerve. A well-dressed waiter was walking past her with filled glasses of some sort of alcohol. Quickly, she snatched one off the tray and made her way towards the games area. Maybe she'd learn a thing or two? The first thing she saw when she found her way over there was two men fighting. "I know I've never been in here, but I swear that's supposed to happen in that arena." She shook her head and took her seat in an empty chair near a wall and just watched all of the gamblers. Note-1 Silver Miza

[Roy Kingsfield]

Day 37 of Winter in the Year 513 AV

It was a completely different perspective from the caged area than it was from above. He could feel the energy from the crowd bearing down at him, the intensity of their stares drilling into his back. A ten foot fence rose in the air circling the ring. The door behind him slammed shut and the bouncer guarded it so no one else could get in.


The sound of the crowd quieted to a dull roar as Roy pushed all thoughts from his mind. His vision narrowed as he took in his surroundings. Roy ground his foot into the dirt, getting a feel for the traction and give it might have when moving. The young man’s gaze was drawn to the far side of the ring where a door was being opened and a man walked through.


His opponent had arrived.


A spike of adrenaline rushed through Roy’s body, his senses heightening. Roy eyed his opponent, he didn’t know what to make of the man in front of him. The man stood at 5’6”, around 130 lbs and had jagged scars running down his skull. The scarred man stared Roy down, snarling savagely.


“Hey, I think you’re in the wrong area. The zoo is over there,”Roy smirked at the man’s intimidation tactics. His opponent’s nostrils flared in anger at the insult and barely managed to restrain himself from attacking Roy then and there. The disfigured man grabbed his head with both hands and twisted it causing a loud crack.


The two squared off in the center of the ring, each staring the other down. The tension was thick enough to be cut with a knife. The bell was struck.


DING!


Before the bell had even finished vibrating, the man with the scars lashed out, swinging a right hook towards Roy’s jaw. Roy saw it coming and easily ducked under it. The man followed up with a quick jab to Roy’s stomach. The youth attempted to jump backwards but, the man's reach was longer than expect. The blow connected ruthlessly and Roy felt the wind get knocked out of him.


His hands grasped his stomach as he felt his lungs gasping for the much needed oxygen. As much as he wanted to suck in air, his throat refused to listen to him. The scar faced opponent didn't give him a moment to recover but whipped his foot out. The blow smashed into his side, knocking him to the ground. Roy collapsed onto the dirt floor, grimacing.


Oh god, that's going to hurt tomorrow...


The man growled as he loomed over Roy. He sneered at him and raised a foot to crush the boy's head beneath it. His heel snapped down.


Roy, MOVE!


The young fighter rolled violently to the side, fighting his body as it tried to refuse listening to his muscles instructions. He dodged the foot, nearly avoiding having his face kicked in. The foot crashed into the dirt. Finally Roy gasped as air flooded his lungs. He pushed off the ground and raised his fists.


Before the man had a chance to strike again, Roy retaliated. He closed the distance between them and rained down three powerful blows. The man raised his hands and blocked the two jabs towards his face but grunted as the third one connected with his vulnerable side.


Roy pressed his advantage and planted one foot in the ground before sweeping up his other leg, shin flying straight for the side of the man’s head. The man barely deflected it with a raised arm and grabbed it.


The man grinned and yanked it up.


A look of surprise crossed Roy's face as the crowd disappeared from his vision and the ceiling came into view. He crashed to the ground yet again.


His foe let go of the young man's leg and swiftly kicked him in the chest. Roy grunted as he felt the blow connect. He cried out as the pain radiated in his sternum. He prayed fervently that nothing broke. His opponent lifted his foot to kick him again but Roy scrambled to his feet, gasping for air. Persistent coated his face and body as he took the savage beating.


The two circled each other. Roy felt pain all over his body, even through the adrenaline. The scarred man took two steps and lashed out. His fist broke through Roy's guard and smashed into his face. Roy stumbled backwards and tried to recover hastily.


Keep your guard up...


He was just about to strike back when all of a sudden his adversary suddenly turned and ran away from him towards the cage wall, creating a large gap between them.“What the skyke are you doing?”Roy yelled at him angrily as his foe seemingly turned and fled.

The scarred man turned to face Roy. He roared and beat his chest before sprinted towards him at full speed with a battle cry on his lips. Dust flew up in his wake as he swiftly tore across the ring.


Roy stood their silently, waiting for his rival to hit him. Just before the two men crashed into one another, Roy side stepped, grabbed one fist in the other and smashed his elbow across the back of the man’s neck as he passed by. The blowm plus his forward momentum made him lose control and he crashed to the ground.


The fighter pushed himself onto his hands and knees, just in time for Roy to get a running start and smash his foot into the fallen man’s stomach. Ribs snapped as the kick connected and the man yelled in pain. He wrapped his arms around his chest, cradling his broken bones. But before he could move to defend himself, Roy was on him like a flash.


Blow after blow, rained down upon Roy’s opponent. Blood began spurting from the scarred man’s nose as Roy’s fists smashed his face into a bloody mess. A haze came over Roy’s vision as he swung time after time again. The anger that coiled in his chest, growled hungrily. It wanted more, it would not be slated by a few strikes. Roy beat the man mercilessly until he vaguely felt hands wrap around his arms and yank him backwards.


Roy struggled and fought the restraints, the haze still clouding his vision. Finally, after futilely trying to fight the men pinning him to the ground, his senses came back to him and he stopped moving. The men slowly released him and he stood up. The crowd had been unnaturally quiet, unsure who the winner was. Roy lifted a blood covered fist into the air. The crowd roared in approval as the victor made himself known.

[Gad]

The next blow from the unknown assailant smacked Gad in the left check. As he stumbled back he swiped with his improvised mug gauntlet. The lip of the metal cup tore a small chunk out of they mystery-man's own cheek. Like most of the blows Gad had landed, this seemed only to make him angrier. Gad turned heel and sprinted away, making for a more busy region of the casino. His plan was that if their fight disturbed people enough someone might jump in to help, or at least to exact retribution on the one who was causing the commotion. So far no luck, and as Gad made a mad dash away from his attacker, he felt something heavy smack into his back. An old wooden chair broke into pieces somewhere behind him. Gad fell forward and caught himself on a gambling table. As marbles and tokens and amber ales spilled over onto the floor, Gad did his best to wheeze out "Real sorry about this folks." For a spilt second, he just enjoyed resting there with his chest leaned up against the side of the table, and his arms stretched out helplessly across it. He looked over his shoulder at the chair tossing bastard who was now just coming up behind him. Gad crawled up on the table, planning to run away across it. In mid stride his ankle was yanked and he fell face down on the table. He heard the goon laugh, and did his best to roll onto his back. In an odd bit of synchronicity, this was the same moment that Kingsfield's opponent down in the pit was preparing to do his sprinting charge. Gad couldn't see that and wasn't aware of it from where he was now, however. All Gad could see was that the bully who was beating up on him looked like he'd given up the ghost. Then, the brute came barreling towards Gad, pushed off the ground with both legs and came hurtling through the air. Gad judged the trajectory. The man was planning to stomp Gad's chest. The wizard moved his arms into an "X" across his chest, like what the undertakers did to corpses hands when they went down in the ground. The man's leather boots connected with Gad's forearms. They didn't break, it hurt, but they didn't break. The legs on the gambling table weren't so sturdy though and they gave under the two grown men's combined weight. The place was a mess. Gad laid under his foe's feet, wondering what the man could possibly want from him. It was clearly some kind of vengeance, but for what and from when Gad couldn't tell. Gad considered going limp and letting the man beat him up until he was done, but he remembered where he was. People in Sunberth rarely exercised restraint. Gad could hear, through the ringing in his ears, one of the gamblers yelling at the brute. Gad looked up. His assailant was blustering and yelling at the gambler to back off and mind his own business. The point was, he wasn't paying attention to what Gad was doing. Gad looked around, and spotted a leg of the chair that had shattered, there were two rusty nails sticking out where it had been fastened to the seat. What Gad saw was a club with two rusty nails sticking out. Gad reached out his lanky arm and seized the makeshift weapon. He slapped the metal pronged end of it into the inner thigh of the leg that was still planted on his chest. The guy howled in pain, and took his foot off. Gad yanked the club away, and some flesh with it. Like a roach that hadn't quiet been finished off by the heel that squashed it, Gad skittered away, and made into the bar. He hung over it, panting in exhaustion, and set the club on the bar. An old toothless and grimy-type, who was sitting at the bar, grinned a flashed Gad a mostly black smile. He slid over a quarter full mug and a plate with a small loaf of extremely crusty bread. Gad grinned back, his own smile a little pink and crimson where his lip had been cut by his enemy's rough knuckles. Gad looked over his shoulder. Despite the bloody leg wound, the guy was still limping his way towards him. Gad slammed his left hand down on the crusty bread, picked it up, and chomped half of it in one bite. The other half, concealed in Gad's large hand, he worked on crushing down to a fine powder of crumbs. With his right hand Gad chugged what was left of the ale to wash down the bread he'd eaten. As soon as had down so, Gad felt a hand on his right shoulder that spun him around. Since he was already spinning, Gad put the momentum into a strike with the mug, using it as a makeshift glove like had the other one just before. Gad felt the man's fat hand wrap around his already bruised forearm before the mug could connect. "Ha! You think the same trick'll work twice on me?" Gad consciously made his eyes go wide in a look of fear and peered into his attacker's hate filled pupils. As he'd intended, his attacker mirrored the expression with his own wide-eyed look of gleeful rage. Gad took his left hand, full of fine, salty bread crumbs, and formed it into the shape of a tube. He placed it at his lips and blew with all his might. Salt and bread dust flew up his foes noes and into his eyes. "I have a few more I could show you." Gad grumbled. He took what was left of the crumbs in his palm and rubbed him in the guy's eyes. Gad then sent a knee into the man's balls. He did it again, and again. When the guy loosened his grip, Gad snatched up the table leg still laying on the bar and clocked him with end of it over the head. Gad didn't relent, and he sent another two knees into the man's gonads. Gad then took the club in both hands, made sure the nails were facing outward, and brought it down on the guys head. While he was still reeling, Gad repeated the attack. Gad could see blood where the nails scraped the guy's skull. In his sweaty hands, the club almost slipped, but Gad knew what it meant to let it slip now, and wasn't letting it happen. The man fell to his knees. In his gut, Gad had a feeling this would never be over if the man lived. Once the guy was on the floor, Gad hit him in the neck. The nails dug in, he screamed out. At the same time, someone must've been wining down in the arena because the crowd's roar drowned out the pained moans. "Noh, noh! I-I'm sowy!" He gurgled out. The man was having muscle spasms all over his upper body, and it was his best, Gad could tell, to just be on his hands and knees. Gad struggled to yank the club out, but with a little elbow grease the nails in the club slid out of the holes they made. Gad raised it up above the man's head. "Yeah buddy, me too." He brought it down again. The guy collapsed to the floor. Gad put a foot on his head, yanked out the club. He raised it up, and brought it down again, and did it once again after that. Now the guy was dead. Gad looked at him. He was young, Gad's age about. Pugnacious features frozen in shocked agony. Blood pooled around the guy's neck. Gad searched the body. From over by the cage fights, Tall Johnny came running. "What the Hai? Gad!? You dirty kamyri half-bred sunovabitch you better reimburse me for these damages!" The casino owner bellowed in his scratchy voice. Gad sighed and shook his head, his expression tired, and blank as he did. He retrieved a hefty feeling coin purse from the unknown man's pocket, a tossed it to Tall Johnny. Tall Johnny peered inside and twisted his waxed whiskers in appreciation. "Well uh- This should cover everything." It was actually much more than enough. "Come on my boy, let's go back and watch the fight! There's this Kingsfield fellow who's turning into a real upset." Gad shook his head and rose to his feet, wobbly. He started walking away. "Nah, I think I'll head home." Tall Johnny looked incredulous. "But you've got coin on this fight my boy! Skin in the game!" "Only two silver." Gad waved his hand dismissively over his shoulder as he made for the exit. "Petch it. I put it all on the one-handed slave. If I win, just put it to my tab. I need to get out of here for now." Gad couldn't see it, but John nodded in acceptance and then ordered his workers to take care of the mess. As he shambled out of the building, the geezer who'd slipped him the bread and ale grinned. "Nice save there old man." The drunk nodded and grinned fiendishly. "You're lucky, I seent him in heres before. He's a prize fighter, real mean one. Just like his pa." Gad supposed he could understand the man's view, but again he had to shake his head in disagreement. The wizard chuckled softly and could feel some soreness in his chest. He took one look back at the corpse being dragged away. It would probably be thrown in an alley for the dogs and rats. Gad sucked in some of the blood dripping from his lip and spit out the salty-metallic tasting fluid. "I'da been lucky if this never happened to begin with."Gad walked out into the chill. EXIT GAD

[Amora Jade]

After finishing off the drink she had acquired, the young thief felt as if she had enough confidence to step towards the violent mass of people. The loud bell had rang to signal another fight ending, and now it was time for the betters to begin flashing their money around to bet on the next round. "How long does this go on?" Amora didn't think people could possibly be that entertained by watching two men beat each other to death- nearly. She abandoned her stool and made her way towards the people, having to weave her way between the one's who were leaving due to losing on their money on the last bet. The only pause she took was to glance at the fight happening outside the arena again, it was really getting heated at that point and they were trashing the whole building. It was sure a good sign something bad was about to go down - something worse than the fighting already going on anyway. Quickly she scanned the crowd, seeing many people with heavy coin purses and many more with nearly empty one's. "I could go big.. take from one of those lucky betters and get rich quick, but who's to say they won't notice their riches missing? That's a heavy bag to go missing, they'd notice for sure. On the other hand, I won't gain much from the not-so-lucky one's in the group.." "Hmm.." Amora thought for only a moment before she found her a suitable target. A thin man, relatively short - probably someone she could defend herself again if her were to notice her hand in his pocket. He wore a baggy wool coat and kept his change purse in the side pocket; the purse itself wasn't too bulky so it'd be really easy to snatch up. She moved quickly and swiftly to close the gap between them. The bell rang once more to signal the beginning of the next fight, the perfect time to swoop in for the catch. The crowd all stood - most of them jumped up and down violently and screamed like maniacs, it was a good distraction. Amora took her place behind the man, he was too busy screaming to notice her being so suspiciously close. Without another thought or hesitation she slipped her right hand into his coat pocket and grasped onto the treasure, quickly pulling out as the man jumped up and screamed at his bet, "Ah you ol' oaf! Git yer' damn arms up!" "Apparently he didn't make a good bet." The young woman quickly rushed towards the exit to make her quick get-away, but was stopped dead in her tracks at the sight of the murdered man. Though it was odd for a citizen of Sunberth, Amora absolutely hated seeing death. It frightened her beyond anything else she had ever encountered, no one had the right to take the life of another. The noises of the casino and arena grew quiet as she stared at his mangled body - all bloody and broken. It took her several breaths to recompose herself and continue out the exit. The crisp winter air was the only thing that snapped her out of the dead-minded state she was in. Slowly she began to walk home, her head down as she thought of the death. NoteNot the exit - yet. Waiting on you, Roy.

[Roy Kingsfield]

Day 37 of Winter in the Year 513 AV

The uproar that the crowd caused in their frenzied state slammed into Roy in a wave of energy. Blood dripped down his arm, onto the ground as he held it up for all to see. The victor. The champion.


Roy cast his eyes across the crowd, everywhere he looked, a deafening mass of people were gawking down at him, whether livid with rage at their lose or trumpet in their victory, he was the center of their attention. No one paid any mind to the unconscious opponent who was being dragged out of the cage.


The adrenaline began to wear off and Roy began to feel weak from the exertion. He lowered his fist and turned away from the blood stained ground. He walked towards the cage door, his thoughts a chaotic mess. His anger was sated but as the sleeping beast resided in his chest fell back asleep, another kind of beast rose up to claw at his mind.


Guilt.


He had just beaten a man to the brink of death. He only stopped because someone forced him off. He didn’t know what would have happened if he hadn’t been dragged off. His thoughts were awhirl with different choices that could have been made and what ifs. It was all he could do to push it away and ignore the nagging feeling that tried to get him to face reality.


Roy headed up the stairs, taking two at a time, snatching up his shirt as he made it to the top. He slid his arms and head through and adjusted it so all was in its proper place. The recent champion, pushed his way through the seething crowd as men and woman argued over bets, mizras and outcomes. He ignored them all and headed for the bar.


He must have looked quite the sight, his shirt sticking to his body from the sweat from his fight, the blood still smeared on his knuckles. His arms landed with a thump on the counter of the bar as he rested briefly.


“Bartender, I need a water.” The man behind the bar scowled as he was asked to serve a cheap beverage but after a moment’s hesitation, complied. Roy flicked a wrist towards the man’s dirty towel at his waist. “And give me that rag while you’re at it.”


The man began to protest but Roy cut him off. “Sir, I just fought and won that last fight. I made you a lot of money tonight so if you don’t mind, I would like to clean up. So give. Me. That. Rag.”


The bartender started at being spoke to so abruptly and hastily handed Roy the piece of cloth before hurrying over to get his drink. Roy threw him two mizra’s for the drink and cloth before picking up the dirty rag and wiped the sweat from his face. He winced as he gingerly dabbed at the bruised knuckles. The blood was relatively wet so it wiped off easily, much to his relief.


The champion of the night picked up the handle of his mug and lifted it to his lips as he glanced around the bar area. The typical people one would expect, filled the room. Rough looking men, pressed up against the bar, slugging back their drinks.


But one of those people stood out. A golden bronze face peered out from a mess of black hair, caught his attention. Roy hadn’t noticed her before but his brain finally registered what his eyes were seeing. It was a woman. He watched her as she finished her drink and stood.


He wasn’t sure why he continued to observe her as she moved, normally he wouldn’t have cared. Whether it was the exhaustion that was taking hold of him or his desire to befriend someone, he didn’t know. But his gaze followed her thin frame as it moved easily through the mass of bodies.


He craned his neck, tracking her. He had no idea what she was doing, her movements seemed random as she weaved her way through people. Roy stood up and grabbed his drink. He tilted his head back and threw back the last of the water before following after her.


He lost sight of her for a moment but he found her again, just as her hand dipped into a unsuspecting man’s pocket and reappeared with a few objects in her hands that glinted in the light. Roy’s eyes narrowed in distaste as he realized what he witnessed. The woman quickly disappeared and Roy sprung back into action, following the movements of the woman that so intrigued him.


She made her way to the door and disappeared from sight. Roy broke into a sprint, shoving past people and slamming the door open just as it was about to shut behind her.


He burst free into the chilly air, eyes seeking the form of the woman. He thought he saw her, but he couldn’t be sure.


“Hey, you! Girl with the black hair! What’s your name?” He called out, desperately hoping that if she heard him she would respond.

[Buras]

Buras saw the interesting man get in a fight from his perch. Let's see what this man is capable of. he thought. He saw how the interesting man used a chair leg to beat the other one's head in.
Hoping to get a better view of the fight, Buras flew to the top of the fighting cage. Below him, a new comer was fighting a veteran of the ring, and was winning. That one has rage in him, I hope he is nicer when not fighting.
Buras saw the interesting man throw what looked like bread crumbs into the other one's eyes, and thought to himself It seems that that man can hold his own in a fight, even if he doesn't play by all the rules. He saw the man that thought he was important yelling at the winner of that bar side brawl, something about paying for the damage. It seems like he is done here. And with that, he was looking for someone interesting again.
There was a roar from the crowd, and Buras wanted to know why. Looking down from the top of the cage, he saw the new comer pummeling his opponents head into a pulp. He is also very interesting.
After raising his bloodied hand in victory, the newcomer left the ring, and walked over to the bar. Buras watched him, waiting. His patience paid off, for the man ran out of the bar yelling for some girl to wait. This is my chance to introduce myself. Buras thought Maybe I can find this girl for him as well
Buras flew out the then closing door, and flew ahead of the man to look for this girl. He found her going down a street. Flying ahead and landing, he changed into his human form. "Please stop ma'am, someone wants to talk to you." For emphasis, and hoping the girl would actually stop, he held up his hand. "Now if you don't mind, it is very cold without my feathers."
Changing back into his crow form. He flew up on the girls shoulders, prepared to jump off if she decided to try and swat him off, and waited for the other man to catch up.