Closed A Stroll Down East Street

[Ricky Maze]

A Stroll Down East Street
Spring 65th 514 AV, 20th Bell
Location: East Street

Laviku damn his guard bothers for their challenges! Ricky couldn’t resist the opportunity to try and outdrink his fellow members of the Wave Guard as they’d celebrated in what seemed to be moderate success in their endeavors. So far the hunting of the mages and lunatics broken out of the asylum had been successful as by now most seemed to be rounded up, at least from a standpoint they looked at nearly all of them seemed nearly caught. Hence tonight some of the guard thought to celebrate with some Kelp Beer out at the bar and thought to invite Ricky along, and of course the challenges to see who could drink the most ensued. Ricky may have lost in terms of most mugs but at least he managed to keep his beer in unlike some of the other losers, that led him to chuckle a bit too much as he still thought about that. Now of course the return trip home was in order only the small issue was…. Ricky was seriously drunk. Too drunk to even know just what exactly he’d been doing, sure he knew that he was walking and on the way home but the place… not too familiar.

Who would recognize an area that stretched onward like a street, or streets since they seemed to split in two, then again of course the buildings all around seemed to move and change on their own as he stumbled a little to the left and then a little to the right as he walked. "Shyke!" He murmured with another amused chuckle to follow. "Dis is provin’ t’ be a bit o’ a challenge." It was a puzzle he had to work on solving but… one that wasn’t actually quite a puzzle really. It only seemed that way because he was too drunk to really recognize the scenery and his memory on where to go in order to head home proved poor in use as well. He took a turn down an alleyway hopeful to find a shortcut somewhere along the way, and used the walls to help keep himself held up in the process. As he took his time to move along and head… which way was north? Bah, he just headed further on hopeful that it would lead him closer to the Old Quarter somewhere.

As he did this though he found that he wasn’t alone. Two strangers seemed to have taken to relax against the walls of the alleyway he traveled down, both a little shady to look at once he’d finally noticed their presence. They noticed him too, practically ticks before he did them. "Out pretty late y’know."

"T’ought Oi’d take a stroll, it be a nice evenin’ out t’noight." He remarked with a wry smile as he thought to continue onward and pass them, but that faded away once they stood as an obstacle in his path then. "Look mates, Oi dun want any trouble now. Just wanna git ‘ome is all."

"How much is getting home worth to you?" One of the men inquired as though they were about to offer a bargain, Ricky then sighed as he looked to the floor. He knew well he was likely to be alone, thus his chances for fighting these crooks off while drunk were pretty slim. He hated fighting anyway, but given the circumstances he really had little choice. First Ricky just tried to shove past them with all his weight but the two managed to team up and over power him, and push him back several feet as he stammered to keep his balance. "Take it that means ‘not much’ then."

"No dat actually means ‘sorry but Oi’m outta petch’s t’ give but ye can ‘ave a rat’s arse!" He remarked a moment before one of the two took to swing at him first, Ricky’s reflexes seemed to failed him in the effort of blocking or dodging the punch thus led him to take the full brunt of it on the left side of his face. He staggered back further and found himself pinned against the wall with his arms caught in a lock, they were both tag teaming him now and sure enough Ricky felt a couple more punches land on his face. He was disoriented now, his mind alert to the danger that threatened him at the moment. He had to snap out of it somehow, had to react to get free of these bastards that thought to get a few free coins off of him.

[Grash]

It was way too late to be out, in Grash's opinion. There was no need to be up. He should be back in his dorm studying. He should be preparing for sleep, getting well rested before his next class in the morning. But still, he roamed the streets. The jamoura knew that he needed to get used to the streets of Zeltiva eventually. So he decided to do it at night, when there was less people. But he was also aware that night time was not ideal for safe travel. Especially when alone. Worst of all, he was on East Street. And Grash was no fighter. But nobody else knew that. If anybody saw Grash, they would see a well-built jamoura. Someone who could clobber most with ease. So he wasn't concerned for his safety. None the less, he started heading towards the University dorms. Some streets seemed busier than others, with various bars hosting obnoxious patrons. As the Jamoura walked farther down East Street, he noticed three figures standing. Well, mostly standing. One man seemed to sway side to side a bit. As he got closer, he started to hear mumbling. Most of it was inaudible, but as he neared the trio, one of the two men facing the intoxicated man said something cleary. ""How much is getting home worth to you?" That was clearly a threat. Grash pushed himself against a wall, hoping not to be noticed. He watched as the drunk tried to push himself past the other two, but failed miserably. He didn't hear what was said afterword, but he watched in horror as they started to punch him repeatedly in the face! Where are the authorities?! Grash shook his head at the thought. It was late at night and they were in the bad part of town. They were nowhere nearby, that's for sure. Knowing that he couldn't help much in a physical confrontation, maybe Grash would be able to talk them down. That seemed more likely. Not quite sure what he would say, he puffed up his chest and walked on all fours up to the group. Starting maybe twenty feet away, after five feet he realized he should stand on his back legs. Maybe it will help with intimidating them... He stopped walking and pulled out his iron staff, which he didn't know how to use, and slammed it on the ground. He cleared his throat and called out to the men. "I wouldn't do that, if I were you gentlemen." Grash immediately regretted approaching them. What have I gotten myself into?!

[Ricky Maze]

Amazing how one can feel when their getting punched, one moment the pain is all that matters the next they feel nothing at all. Maybe it had something to do with him being drunk but Ricky, Laviku bless his soul, couldn’t really feel much of anything anymore. His mind disoriented enough to where pain was numb, he could only see a world of black with not but stars to fill its void. From there that was all, but as far as hearing things that was another matter. He may have been arm locked and held to where he was pinned and defenseless, but Ricky wasn’t by all means useless by that point. The two men that were there had been distracted by the voice of another; it was a powerfully deep voice by the sound of it and all the more… foreign to the fisherman’s own ears.

"Aye, and just who’s gunna put a stop t’ us? An overgrown talkin’ ape?" The puncher remarked with a scoff to follow, the one that stood behind Ricky with his arms locked chuckled in amusement. Clearly the men weren’t as intimidated as they should’ve been, so they were definitely feeling gutsy now that they’d taken advantage of someone that looked to be a civilian. Yet they were dealing with a Wave Guard, a drunken Wave Guard but still a Wave Guard nonetheless! Seeing as how they were distracted now, Ricky finally raised his drooped head just a little as he felt something wet trickle over his lips. It was warm but he couldn’t really tell because his whole head felt on fire already, yet now was time to react it seems. His vision had cleared enough to see the abuser before him, his torso was faced towards Ricky while the man’s own head looked down the alley towards the overly large shape. Ricky’s own eyes shifted there for a moment and in turn led to him being partially surprised, considering half of his mind was dulled by the extent of alcohol, being fully surprised was more or less a work in progress. Daaaaaaaayuuuuum! Dat…. Is one big ass guy!

His brows furrowed somewhat as he glanced back to the man that punched him, they were both still distracted by the… whatever that creature was he’d never seen before. He could feel the grip of the arm lock loosen enough, and seeing as how that provided Ricky a chance of escape he wasn’t afraid to take an easier way out than by all means brawling it out with them. The puncher was vulnerable and the holder was open enough, so Ricky recomposed himself to the best of his abilities to prepare for a gambit that could work. Combat wise he’d be a complete debilitator as this would require a bit of decent execution, which would be a challenge seeing as his reflexes and balance weren’t in the highest form. Ricky made sure to wiggle and fold his toes in and out to the best of his abilities, to get a feel for his feet once more before he would shift his balance over to his left foot. From there he would aim his right foot before sending it off, and then launch himself a harsh kick to the area below the belt of the puncher while the guard remained open.

Goal!

The poor bastard felt it full front and immediately found himself hands between his legs in a retreat towards the wall behind him, in much heavy need of a support as his family jewels no doubt sent a shock wave so harsh it made his stomach feel sick. Now. Just as Ricky’s foot seemed to return to a position where he was actually about the same height as the guy holding him, he sent his head backwards as hard as he could until it collided into what felt almost like the brick wall behind him. Of course that’s what he feared would be the wall at first, except the fact he felt this surface was rigid with some structures on it he guessed he’d hit the face. Score. He was getting pretty good at this. The man released his grip on Ricky immediately as the fisherman stumbled forward, hands immediately brought up to the face as he cried out in agony from the head butt Ricky pulled on him. Ricky stumbled around of course being free and drunk, but the fact he remained oblivious that his assailants were recovering their ground made it all the more amusing yet terrifying to watch as he thought to ignore them, and of course approach the stranger.

"T’anks mate!" He waved rather fluidly in his drunken state, that is until the man who held him in place called out with a "Hey!" to grab the fisherman’s attention. Upon turning to face him Ricky could see that he very well broke this man’s nose, as it looked to be crooked from the position it was in before… at least it might’ve been. For all Ricky knew, he could’ve fixed the damn thing! The guy however obviously didn’t agree, thus sent another fist to fly out and collide into the pit area of Ricky’s stomach. Not good. Another fist followed, with a wheezed groan to follow as the fisherman stumbled back and nearly fell on his ass. He wasn’t taking this very well for certain, but then again Ricky was much like this… what was this thing? An overgrown ape? Is that what they called it? Seemed normal to Ricky, aside from the fact it was inside the city…. And could talk.

Okay so it wasn’t exactly normal but Ricky was drunk! Even if that was a statement often reminded the truth behind it was, Ricky hadn’t the damnedest clue on what he was experiencing right about now. He knew he’d been assaulted for sure but after that it just seemed like a world of haze. Practically something he could very well have made up.

[Pulren Marsh]

"Haha, run fer ye life, ya little bastard!"

Pulren turned his waist and aimed his stinking kelp piss at this furry beast. It was your average Zeltivan wharf rat, could probably run off with an infant, but they sure didn't like to be pissed on. Considering their normal environment, it made wonder why they ran from the stuff, but maybe it was the high alcohol content of kelp piss specifically. As it turned the corner with a squeak, he tucked himself away and sorted his breeches out, pulling the belt tight. "Much better."

Looking around, Pulren was clearly disoriented. He was pretty sure he was on East Street and he was at least partially sure that he had come after Sergeant Rick after the drinking contest. His booze addled brain was now looking for a why, but nothing was coming. He felt like maybe he should have had another kelper to plot the course. Shrugging it off, he wandered on down the street toward the Mark and its end. At least he knew that he would run into them eventually.

Watching his feet kick up little clouds of dust was fun until there was a sharp rap on the ground of iron. Pulren reached for his hip, as if there was a weapon there. Nope! The thought amused him greatly and he found himself laughing out loud, oblivious to the dangers of East Street. He could see Rick fighting with two men and this brought Pulren's blood to a simmer. One Wave Guard in a fight was the lot of them, as far as he was concerned. His anger pushed him down the alley and past some great hulking shadow of a WHAT THE PETCH WAS THAT?!

Tripping on his own feet, Pulren fell face first to the street, pushing up in a flurry of fear and anger mixed with confusion and hammered. "What the petch is THAT?!", he said as he pointed at the large furry creature in shock. He could hear the fight behind him and he shook his head a few times, hoping the vision would go away. "Stay there, giant creature. I will have words with you in a moment!" Spinning back around, and almost too far with little equilibrium, Pulren leaped at the first man that wasn't Rick, charging into him with a shoulder to the ribs.

"Fer the Wave Guard!"

[Grash]

Grash watched in horror and confusion as everything happened in front of him. He paid the insult no attention. Gripping his staff tightly, he gulped silently. There was no way he could actually fight these guys. No, he would have to try and convince them that fighting was a bad idea. But before he knew it, the drunk tried escaping again and they all began fighting. It was obvious that there would be no talking to these men. If he was going to help, he would have to scare them away. He could try and intimidate them, running up like a wild animal. But he was against acting as such. Civilization had no place for creatures of the like. No, he would have to strike with his staff. Moving the iron staff into both hands, he got ready to charge the assailants. But right as he was beginning to rush them, a man fell at his feet. Pointing at him, and shouting in what sounded like terror. Have these men never seen a Jamoura before?! Grash wasn't quite sure that this man would provide much help, he was obviously drunk as well. However, he could offer more assistance than Grash could. But then He heard the man shout "Fer the Wave Guard!" This is the Wave Guard?! What kind of protection can he offer?! Shrugging his shoulders, he stayed put. If he was with the Wave Guard, then it would be best for Grash to follow his order to stay.

[Ricky Maze]

"Son… o’ a… Loveless whore…" He groaned as he struggled to keep on his feet, of course the sound of a familiar voice came from behind as Ricky straightened up with arms crooked in a drunken fighting position, more or less defensive seeing as how he really couldn’t do much offense right now. Then of course Pulren the recruit he’d been training launched himself at the man who’d been kicked in the balls so damn hard, only because he’d worked up enough of whatever left of them to try and get a jump on Ricky. Thank the gods this recruit was so damn determined to prove Ricky that he as guardsman material, even if the behavior both men were demonstrating tonight was definitely NOT guardsmen material.

"Daaaaayuuum!" He chuckled for a moment before he felt another harsh punch sock him on the left shoulder, Ricky stumbled just a little as he caught the wall with his left hand to maintain balance once more, then went into a lean forward as to force his balance into a counter that would lead him to charge at the assailant. He’d rammed into the man but not anywhere near as hard as he needed to, only just enough to be caught in the grasp of one another while Ricky tried to regain what poor footing he now had. "Ello mate!" He quirked with another headbutt to the man’s face once more, though not without a harsh headache to follow as he felt the force of collision on his own forehead. When the man retreated back with his hands to his face once more Ricky did officially fall onto his ass this time, hands planted to his forehead as he felt the world literally spin around him now. Shyyyyyyyke. He thought as his eyes widened in awry from the effect, he could literally feel something at work within his stomach now.

Something that wasn’t so good to feel when you were drunk. Luckily for him the two bastards saw themselves outmatched now since there were three people… well two now and one large hairy thing behind them. The bloody nosed man took to get up and help his friend by getting Pulren off of him, and in turn barking "Let’s go let’s go!" as they tried to ditch the scene. Thank Laviku and Priskil for Pulren’s appearance just now, if it weren’t for the boy’s eagerness to help his commanding officer then Ricky would’ve surely had his hands full. Ricky looked over to where Pulren was and would’ve said something there, but a lurch in his stomach led him to swallow down air and spit to try and keep what was about to happen next keep from happening. Failure. There was no way to avoid it now, not with the activity and blows to the stomach he’d taken from earlier. His stomach heaved further but Ricky didn’t fight it, seeing as how he was drunk it felt better to just let it all go… and so he did.

Ricky turned over to his knees and felt a heave in his chest area; the esophagus felt the rush of warmth liquid as he finally lost the contents inside his stomach, if you thought Kelp Beer nasty going down… try vomiting it back up. His mouth and throat literally burned for a chime as Ricky heaved the foamy contents of his stomach out, until at last it was clear from the ungodly amount of alcohol that resided within there. Six and a half mugs, just like his usual limit. Yet they were never good to come back up. Damn Kelp Beer! Damn those bastards that jumped him! Once Ricky seemed to no longer feel himself heaving any more he wiped his mouth with the back of his right forearm, and looked at the blood that had been smudged on there from his bleeding nose. Did it bleed from the punches or was it another simple nosebleed like he’d been having?

He wasn’t sure. He was only aware that some large monkey like creature was in their presence, and Ricky wasn’t in the greatest of shapes to make a decent first impression. "Shyke…" He murmured to himself as he started to regain his senses somewhat, it took him a minute before he could get back onto his feet and assess the damage that had been done.

[Lani Stranger]

It was reasonably late when Lani got off her shift. Dead tired and smelling strongly of the hearty food and alcohol that she served, Lani trudged home. Boots in her right hand, Lani habitually wrung her left one out. In the beginning of the season Lani had managed to overgive and it ended up turn her hand numb. She had slowly regained feeling nearly two moons ago, but her first use of magic was memorial and had plenty of reprecussiond for her to deal with. Her drowsy demeanor began to let her mind wonder as she walked. Before she realized it, Lani found her self well out of her way. The trek from the World's End Grotto to the University went down West Street before turning to the University, but was otherwise a straight route. Lani had managed to miss the turn and found herself somewhere she didn't exactly want to be, East Street. Her toes met the dusty texture of a street that was not well maintained, and the thin cotton of her decorative trousers suddenly couldn't hold out chill from the wind. Shouts and drunk voices echoed down the midnight street calling Lani's attention. Inclined to ignore, and possibly avoid the brawl, Lani walked slower. She did not want to run into the mess, but curiosity kept her from turning around.

"I wouldn't do that, if I were you gentlemen." The rumbling thick Jamourian voice caught Lani's attention. She blinked a few times, pure shock filling her features. It couldn't be ... ? Wasting no time to ponder the probability of one of the gentle giants in Zeltiva, Lani sprinted ahead. Her calloused feet slapped the dusty cobble below her, her long bounds bringing her around the corner and to the scene quickly. Her heart had picked up in excitement, but as soon as the half-blood turned the corner, she jerked to a stop. Gulping in air form her sudden raise in adrenaline, Lani stared at the scene before her. There he is! A true Jamourian stood before her. From far away, she couldn't tell immediately if he was in the brawl or not. Panic shot through her as she thought about it. What kind of Jamoura would be in a fight? A lethal one. The thought resonated through her brain, chills going down her spine. Lani's left hand reached out, colliding with the wall beside her, and she pulled herself to it, decided that staying out of sight was a better option ... for now.

Lani watched two men depart form the scene, one seemed to have been injured in a place no man wanted to be injured. Flattening herself against the wall, Lani watched them pass. She didn't fool herself into thinking they wouldn't notice her. The six-foot black-eyed woman was pretty much out in the open, attached to the corner of a building for support. They slowed when they passed her, which gave Lani a fast decision to make. Brave it out against two men who's pride had recently been hurt, or head towards the Jamoura and his companions? The choice was obvious to her, seeing as the men where obviously not going to head back into that alleyway. Lani was far from drowsy now, her heart was threatening to tear her ribs apart and her eyes wide. She tried to measure her walk, making it look as casual as possible, but her heavy breathing was doing little to help her show. Swiping her bangs back and glancing behind her, Lani confirmed that the men would stay on their track, away from her. Well, away from the people she was heading to, but still at a safe distance away. Lani let her white knuckles loosen some on her boots, her heart starting to steady out. Turning back to the men in front of her, Lani set a relieved and short smile on her face.

She could just walk past the men, and avoid all contact, but the Jamoura would not escape her attention so easily. During her time in the Spires, she had grown to love the creatures. Their friendly and intelligent nature had always made her time with them very pleasant. She wasn't usually one to miss any particular place she had lived, having moved around Mizahar her whole life, but Spires where an exception. Most off all she missed the Jamourian family that took her in when she was lost. It was highly unlikely that this one had known Quett, and that was not her reason for wanting to meet him. Passing the humans, Lani glanced down at the injured man, worry laced her face. She wrinkled her nose as the man turned to dump to contents of his stomach onto the cobble. She hesitated, wondering for a second if she should help him. Not one word passed her lips as her steps slowed, she had always been hesitant to help strangers. On wobbling knees, the man pulled himself to his feet, and Lani's shoulders relaxed in relief. Unless he fell over, he doesn't need her. The other man seemed to be fairing well enough as well, so Lani continued on, her walk still slowed.

Turning her attention back to the Jamoura, Lani sent a smile to her lips, looking up at the large creature. "I thought you were fighting for a minute, scared the hair off my scalp." Lani placed a hand on the arm of the great ape, the familiar feeling of course fur on her fingertips. Her attitude gave off the impression that she knew him, which was not true. To her is seemed perfectly reasonable to be this friendly with a stranger from her favorite home. It didn't occur to her that the Jamoura would see her as a simple humanoid, or just a human had he not seen her eyes. The Jamoura might not return the same familiarity, not realizing that she came from his home city. Turning to the men behind her, Lani let her hand fall from the Jamoura, looking down upon the damage. "Are you two okay? What were you guys doing?"

PC/NPC Talking -- Common -- Kontinese -- Thoughts

[Grash]

Grash watched as the men ran away with pity. Sure, they were picking on what seemed like a helpless drunk. But all those hits they took must have hurt a lot. But then again, Grash was certain that the two men still in front of him were a little hurt as well. The first drunk began heaving and vomiting all over the pavement, and Grash turned his head away in disgust. That's when he saw what appeared to be a woman walking towards him. "I thought you were fighting for a minute, scared the hair off my scalp." She seemed very friendly and even placed her hand on his arm, smiling at him. Grash was speachless. Maybe it was her friendly tone, maybe because he spent so much time away from people when he was out in the wild traveling, but he was washed with embarrassment. Grash recovered his composer and returned her smile, then laughed. "Who? Me? I wouldn't even know how to swing this metal stick if I needed to." He said while gesturing to his iron staff. "Are you two okay? What were you guys doing?" She asked the two men that were still here. The jamoura looked to the men and nodded. He wanted to know what had actually happened. He was pretty sure that the first man was being mugged, but he wasn't positive. And he wondered what questions the drunken Wave Guard had for him.

[Eldritch]

OOCDon't worry, you guys haven't done anything wrong. I just wanted to jump in here to add a little something in! Don't worry, I'll likely just be here for a few posts, then I'll get out of your hair.

East Street, it was often considered the worst of the worst by many Zeltivan citizens. Where the lower class scum of the city dwelled, which often made it the perfect place for a good mugging or for a busker or two to ply their trade. As it was though, other than the two scoundrels that had been firmly chased away and the group there were very few upon the street this very night. Empty, though the sounds of distant crime and unsavory things were very much able to be made out in the night. Leth illuminated all, though often not for the best.

Towards the group, from the shadows, shuffled a man though it looked rather like he just wanted to walk past. A cowl was pulled over his head and a dark cloak obscured most of his body, though the observant onlooker could notice a few things no doubt. He was stooped over, hunched really and leaning heavily upon a rough knobby cane. His gait was a slow and shuffling one, a thick beard sprouting from beneath the cowl itself. He looked to be moving past them, but just as he was passing by Pulren he lost his grip on his cane and tumbled to the ground.

He started feeling about in the darkness, looking as though his eyesight had dulled with his old age. He started coughing, hacking really as he attempted to find his cane as understand his bearing. He didn't seem to acknowledge there were others nearby that could help, as though he did not even know there were others nearby. He just continued to fumble about in the shadows.

[Pulren Marsh]

Pulren was surprised at how easy his target had collapsed to the ground, his friend clearly put off by the might of the Guard. The two started to crawl away and make haste to leave the alley, which only swelled the young recruit's pride. Laughing, he pitched back with his hands on his hips. "That's right, run you dogs! The Wave Guard is always watching!" Chuckling to himself as the adrenaline wore off to allow alcohol back in, he watched as Sergeant Rick was emptying his kelp on the streets before him.

Being very knowledgeable as to the aftermath of kelp, Pulren squatted down and patted Rick on the shoulder. "The tide came high, eh Sarge? No worries, I won't tell the boys. Tastes twice as good on the way up, it does." Laughing to himself, he felt a small wave of nausea himself as he caught a whiff of the regurgitated kelp. It really could smell worse. Fanning it away, his attention turned to the giant creature he had tripped past. There it was, alright.

Pulren blinked several times. There was a striking woman standing next to the beast. "I would have noticed had I tripped over her, too." He realized he was probably looking too long, but the scene was just too strange. Maybe he would swear off kelp for a few weeks. he wanted to say something witty, but the beauty of the woman and the size of the beast just left him standing with mouth agape. She was even asking him and Sarge what they were doing. "East Street." That was all he could sum it up with.

Vandals, buskers, whores. These were all things familiar to Pulren when it came to the notorious street. A large hairy beast, a beautiful woman and then a strange, frail man was just enough to make his mind reel. Looking up at the sky briefly, he wondered if maybe the Gods were playing a game with his mind. Suddenly, the hooded figure seemed to misstep and fall with his cane. This brought Pulren's attention to the forefront. Elders were priority, understanding this strange night a close second.

Scooping up the man's cane, Pulren knelt down next to him, placing a hand on the old man's shoulder and offering an arm, however woozy. "Hey there, Sir. You alright? Let me help you up." His thoughts floated on a tide of kelp. How much stranger could this night get?