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[Buras]

27 of Spring 514 AV 'This was such a stupid idea.' Buras thought as he stood with his quarterstaff at the ready, in the Blood Pits. He could remember how he got here. It started like any other day. He woke up. Managed to eat a rather nice breakfast. Took care of Teddy, his horse. And all the other enjoyed parts of his morning routine. But no, today he had to realize he was running out of money. He could only steal so much, which was quickly spent as it was. So, he came up with the brilliant idea to gamble in the Blood Pits. But there was a twist to it, he would be the fighter. So, he grabbed his hat and his quarterstaff, and headed towards the Blood Pits. When he arrived, Buras walked up to the Pit Boss, 'Never got his name', and asked to be in the next fight, and he agreed. "Excellent. I'll be right back." Buras said before quickly running off. Finding someone that would take his bets, he places 15 gold on himself, he wouldn't need it if he died. That now taken care of, Buras quickly goes to the arena entrance, and waits to be called in. He didn't have to wait long, for the bloody victor walked out at that moment. Now was his turn to fight. Someone, an offical announcer or not, introduced his opponent first. He went by the name, The Snake, and for obvious reasons. Besides the bronze helmet forged to resemble a snake's head, the man was bone thin and moved like he was water. His weapons of choice, bladed knight sticks. The were basically a slightly curved sword blade with a bar near the back to hold on to. Then he was introduced. He was given the name, The Crow. A bit ironic, considering he didn't give a name. Both of the announcements were met with cheers, jeers, and various stuff thrown at them. You could tell who bet on who. After the fight started, they were in their current situation, pacing around each other, sizing each other up, seeing who would make the first move.

[Zandelia]

One Bell Earlier


The Blood Pits, always filled with the roaring and charged atmosphere of those willing to sacrifice themselves and all others in the pursuit of that most primal of instincts - violence. She didn’t disagree with the practice, the city was free to do as it willed and that was the most important gift it possessed though it never really realized it fully. It was merely accepted as the backdrop to the violent days, ever repetitive in their nature. She had even earned her own coin and reputation within the betting before and she planned to do so again. She needed coin, the Scars needed coin, and though their goals were perhaps better than most she had no qualms over using dirty and cheap ways to get them started. She held few morals anymore and what she did to survive was her own choice.

“Fifty gold” she stated, approaching the master of the pits and placing her bet without making any other point - he was a man at work and harried enough.

“On who?”

“Me”

“You? Who the petch are you?”

“Web”

“Never heard of you but you want to get yourself killed be my guest. Next fight up soon as the two in there kill each other”

“Odds?”

“On you, two to one and that’s a good offer. You look like you can fight by the weapons and armor means you take less risk. Take it or leave it lass”

“Done”

“How many fights?”

“Just the one…for now”

“Hah! Plucky indeed! Go on then, wait over there” he gestured with a jerk of his thumb as the crowd roared, blood had been spilled.

She paid it no mind, she was here to earn - gold and more.



The Present


The man was easily twice her size and because of that he was as cocky as a Svefra just returned to port and in need of a good tumble or three. He wore little armor for all of his bravado, perhaps she reasoned it was because of this lack of protection that he wished to act out to the crowd and flicker what courage he had into dominance. She watched him raise his weapons as he was introduced, she paid the name no heed - he wouldn’t be around much longer to use it and in any case she knew what the outcome would be and knowing his name merely made things harder, filled with complication. She shook her head as she pulled off the cloak and hung it upon one of the bars of the fighting pit - it would be safe there. She shook her head at her opponents gesticulating and the crowd jeered, laughed.

She pulled at her gauntlets, rolled her shoulders and stood hands upon hips as if completely at ease. In reality it merely meant her fingers were closer to her weapons but a bit of show to dent the man as the crowd turned and roiled between them both was always useful. It also helped to found the reputation he was hoping to create - skilled, relaxed, capable, strong. Sunberth respected such things and if it was done with theatre then all the better, they loved a show. She nodded at her own name and watched the opponent, he was flickering now and anger was beginning to set in by the angle of his jaw. She smiled at him, slow and warm so as to cause a further dark flicker.

I am such a bitch she told herself as she awaited the announcement for commencement.

Fingers of her right hand strayed to tonfa handles and the thumb hooked underneath gently. It began and she stood her ground as he charged at her. She stepped sideways and ducked under his blade. Pulling tonfa out now as she pressed forwards and pivoted. Weapons were in hands now and she brought them to smack across his arse in a show of embarrassment. The crowd roared, jeering and enjoying. The opponent turned, a wild swing that she turned with her left before kicking him away and into the metal of the cage. Another jeer as she stepped backwards a few paces and circled left.

He charged, lunging foolishly and hoping for a quick kill. She flicked out a weapon, circling over and down to bat it away as the other came around to crunch into ribs. He folded sideways and she snapped her foot forwards into his groin to complete the collapse. He was on his knees now and she twirled to bring the full force of a strike to the side of his head. Followed by a swift shattering of the jaw. A spray of chipped enamel and blood issued forth from his lips as he leant backwards now to expose the throat. One chop, the collapsing of the windpipe and the death they all so desired.

It was over and the crowd fell silent for once at the quickness of the defeat as she stepped over, put her cloak on once more and walked to the entrance. Only as she exited did the crowd begin to roar, chant and bay for the satisfaction of brutality and for the need of more. She collected her winnings and her own money back again, storing it away carefully.

“Nice fight, want more?”

“Not today”

“Alright, want to bet? Got couple of scrawny ones for fun up next. Could go either way. You a chancer?”

“Like you’ll never believe. Crow?”

“What about him?”

“Twenty on him then, win some of your coin back” the flicker of a smile as she retreated to watch the ensuing bout.

[Buras]

After a few more seconds went by, with neither making a move. But, Buras was anxious, and the wait was over. Lounging at the Snake, Buras does a short sweep across the middle. But the Snake jumped back, and only just avoided it. In return, the Snake lived up to his name and slithered up close to Buras, bladed knight-sticks twirling in the light. Buras couldn't stop that, he barely knew how to use his quarterstaff. But he could get a hit in. Buras was barely ready when the Snake crashed into him. Bronze fangs were shoved into Buras' face, gleaming dully in the light. Sharp blades bit into his thigh and chest. But Buras had a clear shot. Grabbing the Snake on the shoulders, so he couldn't get away, Buras cocks his legs, and kicks him right in the family jewels. A voice surfaced in his mind, it was of a rough myrian who trained him how to fight a little, and it said 'Rule number one, fuck fair'. The Snake fell to the ground, holding himself on his knees by probably force of will alone. Razkar's, his myrian teacher, voice surfaced one more, 'Keep him on the ground'. With a shout, Buras swung his quarterstaff at the Snake as hard as he could, aiming to knock him over more then anything else. And he hit. He hit him right in the side of the Snake's helmet, creating a dent, but not much else. Inside the helmet, the Snake felt like he stuck his head inside a bell and someone struck it with a hammer. He was dazed and confused, could taste blood in his mouth, but everything else might as well not have existed. Buras saw the Snake lying there, not moving, weapons forgotten. 'Let's make sure he doesn't get up.' that thought was his and his alone. Jogging over to where the Snake lay, Buras raised his quarterstaff over his head, and swung it down. Again and again he did this, hearing bones crack and splinter, saw skin breaking and his quarterstaff coming away wet and stained red. After a while, he wasn't sure if it was seconds, minutes, or even hours, he stopped. If he remembered the rules, now that he won, all of the Snake's stuff was now his. So, he took the helmet, trying not to look at the face, and the bladed knight-sticks. Using his quarterstaff as a walking stick, Buras limped to the exit, and wondered how he was going to patch him self up from this one.

[Zandelia]

She was brought a drink to watch the display with, carefully watered down wine by the taste of it but it was welcome enough to her palette that she slipped a gold miza into the serving girl’s hand beyond the price of the drink as a way to get further service quickly should the desire arise. People always served those as paid promptly and gave a little extra before those who merely shouted abuse drunkenly whilst trying to stand up straight. It was the unwritten rule of service – act politely and give back and you got more in return. She had always found it strange how quickly people were willing to consider tavern wenches and their like simple servants who existed for the amusement of others. They were far more than that.

I should know I’ve lain with any of them and some could work the streets better than the Lushers if the wanted to. They listen, talk, watch. Always forgotten but never forgetting. Useful people she mused to herself as she circled the drink around the cup for a while, simply watching the bout beginning to unfold before the crowd.

They were both relatively small fighters and from the way that they moved she saw little skill involved. The Snake seemed to be quicker and more able to fight but the Crow held the advantage of reach and mobility if he used his own staff correctly. She had seen one used before and knew it could be deadly dangerous if it was allowed to be. The crowd roared as the Snake lunged in with weapons similar to her own yet bladed – there were always those willing to slice rather than smack and usually they were bloody in character. She preferred to disable and could still kill with her own tonfa, it just required more finesse. Still he moved well enough and managed to get some wounds in before being forced back slightly.

She didn’t overly care who won but she did enjoy smaller people, the unexpected, turning the tables and she smiled into her cup as she watched the vicious kick into the Snake’s nether regions. The fight was over it seemed, disarmed and now concussed the Snake was a dead man and the crowd sensed it – chanting along with the staff’s rising. What Zandelia didn’t expect was the purely animal disappearance of the Crow’s humanity as he beat the Snake into little more than a pulp. The bones shattering could be heard easily, the cries for mercy growing higher in pitch with every strike until they were cut off and gurgled away. Blood poured from every facial orifice she saw as the helmet was removed. Whatever had taken hold of the Crow she sensed was not human or animal. Even animal’s knew when to stop butchering – it was something else. She finished her wine and slipped through the crowd towards the exit of the pit, read to grab the young man before any of the Snake’s friends got involved, she knew he would have some and the lad seemed inexperienced in the ways of fighting.

And after seeing what I just saw any allies will be seeking to return the favour tenfold she told herself as she positioned, ready to pounce.

“There you are lad, disappeared for a little while there eh? Come on, let’s get a drink down you so we can get you some attention for the next one eh?” she shouted loudly as she slipped her arm around the shoulder of the lad and eye scanned the crowd, saw four men holding weapons now slowly shift them out of sight, “and come with me before you get jumped by your opponent’s friends you hear” she bent down so that only he would be able to hear that amidst the crowd.

She guided him to a corner, enough space to defend herself but also out of the way enough that they would be difficult to find if pursued. She gestured for a passing lass with a tray to bring more wine and some medical supplies. She had little experience with such things but she was a fast learner and had seen it done many times before.

“Tell me, where are you hurt little one? And why did you feel the need to kill him so viciously? A show this may be but you’ll attract the wrong kinds of attention. Few appreciate lunatics even in this blood bath,” she asked softly as she squatted down and kept her eye open, “you can call me Web by the way”

[Buras]

After sitting down, Buras inspects his hat. Luckily, it was fine. Then he moved on to his quarterstaff. He was told that oak was the strongest wood he could get around here, but he never expected how tuff the stuff was. There weren't any cracks, it didn't look like anything happened, except the now red end. Buras liked the sound of getting a drink, especially a free one. His mood was soured a little when she called him "little one" , she was only a few inches taller then he was, and he was big for a crow. But, if someone offers you a drink and to patch you up, you often take it. As for her question on why he was so brutal, "That was nothing. I once saw a myrian rip a throat out with his teeth in those pits. With the daggers still in him to. Besides, it was him or me, and I picked him. And you can call me Buras." 'Now where is my gold?' "Wait," Buras continues, realizing something, "why do you care? If you placed a bet, I'm sorry if you lost. If not that, then why? But I won't mind you patching me up if you can."

[Zandelia]

She let her gaze cross over him further now, any immediate threat was scattered looking for them or given u after seeing her easy despatching off the mortal coil of her own opponent. She was not one to be trifled with foolishly and the crowd knew it, whether they wanted to do her harm or not. She was always alert for such opportunities, she knew the price of letting her guard slip for even a moment and paranoia was her bedfellow at times. Of late she had found a little more space and relaxation but not much compared to most people. Long black hair slick with his exertion and brown eyes all too serious about the words he had spoken. Slightly shorter than herself but not by much, trusting in nature perhaps – though there was self-interest there also and that was something worthy of Sunberth.

And he cares for his hat and his quarterstaff, inspecting them with an almost loving eye and making sure that they are undamaged. Interesting, perhaps I should ask why but he has asked his own questions too and they are decent enough to deserve and answer she mused to herself.

“Here, wine as ordered and some things to help him with. Get too many injuries here so supplies for patching up are free so long as they keep the fighters coming and business flowing,” the lass returned with what she had been asked for with a smile, it didn’t meet her eyes, “just make sure what you don’t use you hand back. Anything else for you mistress?”

“Yes, I placed a bet on this one – Crow. I presume he probably made a bet himself too?” she raised her eyebrow at Buras then but continued one smoothly as she met his eye, “please gather them. You may take five gold from mine for your silence and your help. Also for the supplies. Mostly for the silence, understood?” she stated in a flat tone of voice.

“Yes Mistress”

“Web”

“Yes…Web” she responded, clearly slightly puzzled, before slipping away back into the crowds once more.

She turned her attention back to Buras as she sifted through the small leather pouch to find a needle and thread, thick cord that would hold against the movement of the body. She was no healer but she knew how to sew a little. Perhaps it would not be needed and bandages only required, she wouldn’t know until Buras told her or was allowed to inspect him. She left that for now and passed him his drink before considering his words whilst sipping her own beverage. She swirled the contents and wondered when the young had been so desensitised to such brutality. She was no pacifist but some things were just plain wrong to her mind.

“I am not sure that ripping someone’s throat out with one’s teeth is something to be proud of, especially considering that if one were artful they could achieve the same effect in a better way” she started with slowly, “but then death is death I suppose. Dira will get her souls and the city will receive its blood. More’s the pity” she continued thoughtfully, wondering whether brutality was merely his nature or if her were more complicated than that. Complicated could be used much, brutality less so.

“I care because I take an interest in anomalies, in things that stand out and thus are extraordinary. I make it my business to know these things, comprehend them and then spread them wherever seems most appropriate. I watch, wait and take note. I have noted that you are strange compared to most fighters here and so I take an interest” she smiled a little at the words, true and yet not entirely the truth.

“I actually won the bet, I bet on you as the outsider so you won me some coin. Not that I need it really. I made the wager to prove a point and it was proven. The real question is what point do you wish to prove Buras? Or even to whom you wish to prove it? Yourself, the people, the city?” she asked as she edged closer to inspect the wounds that she could see.

They were clearly not overly serious as they were not inhibiting him overly much. Still, observation was better than approximation and thus she gestured for him to indicate where he was injured and the pull off his shirt so that she could see.

[Buras]

Seeing the gesture, Buras pulls off his shirt. It stung a bit, but not to much. There he saw one injury in all its bleeding glory. On the upper left side of hes chest, was a long cut. It didn't look deep in his opinion, but he wasn't an expert. It didn't look like it would need stitches either. It had nothing to do with the fact he didn't want to get stuck with a needle. Nothing at all. "I got another one like this on my leg. But I ain't taking my pants off. Not in a crowd anyway." Buras said with a smile, hoping it was taken for the joke that it was. "Alright, get it done with. And give me a drink of that." Quickly grabbing the wine, Buras quickly takes a few gulps before Web could say anything. When he was done, he lowered the drink, and marveled a bit at the taste. He never had wine before, he was to cheap. But he decided he could have it once in a while, on special occasions. "Oh. And, I WANT MY COIN!" He shouted at the back of the maid. "AND NOT A GOLD LESS" Back to Web, "Alright, do your worst"

[Zandelia]

“Easy Buras, easy,” she opted for a soothing tone with a small smile at his self-interested motivation, “you will get your coin and there will be none stolen. She has been given enough already and they have a reputation to keep. It’s bad business to steal bets so rest assured you will get what is coming to you” she continued smoothly.

We all get what is coming to us in the end. It’s just a matter of whether it’s what we want or what we deserve. And whether those two things are one and the same she mused silently as she looked upon the wound that had been exposed.

She edged forwards and let her fingers brace either side of the cut as gently as she could and shifted them sideways in opposite directions to see how far the wound had bit into him. Fresh blood ebbed outwards from it to trickle own his torso but all in all it did not look overly deep and that was an excellent consideration. She had little medical knowledge and, in truth, had offered to help in order to learn a bit about him more than about triage. She pursed her lips and tilted her head in thought, she used her free hand to pull out a flash of water and some clean rags - or as clean as could be expected form the Blood Pits. She kept her fingers where they were over the wound, keeping it open ad she un-stopered the water pouch and brought it up to pour a small amount above the laceration - it surged downwards and into the wound - it would probably sting as it cleaned it and swept the blood away.

“It doesn’t look deep so I don’t think we will need to stitch it,” she talked aloud as she worked and let her fingers come away now as she re-stopered the water container and pulled a dagger from its boot sheath and set to work at cutting a rag to shape, “so you’re lucky there considering the weapons he was using. You need to learn how to fight better Buras otherwise next time you could be injured further. Not getting hit is the best way of fighting I like to think” she stated simply as she formed a long strip.

She leant forwards once more and placed the strip across the entirety of the wound - it was rough and too large but it would serve its purpose in covering the wound with something more than air. She pressed down upon it and applied pressure, perhaps too much but she was not learned in the medical craft. She knew, as did most, that pressing the wound would encourage the blood to stop seeping and thus clotting and healing could start to begin. She indicated for him to take over as she knew he would know better how much pressure to apply. She he would do so Zandelia began to unwind a roll of bandaging that soon enough would be used to keep another cut rag that was swiftly being formed with her dagger in place for a while.

“Have you actually been taught how to fight? Or did you decide to enter the tournament to see if you could do it before any form of training?” she queried softly as she worked, she was curious to discover the mentality of the lad before her, “because if it is blood and gold that you seek then there are better ways in which to gain both…with the correct direction of course. One always needs to be pointed in the right direction after all” she stated, leaving the words hanging and wondering if he would notice the suggestiveness of them - was he astute enough.

“As for the leg, perhaps you can use your winnings to get one of Brega’s Lushers to service you in more ways than one, hmm?” she returned his half-jest with one of her own, “though I don’t think that seeing your leg would drive me wild Buras, you are not my type I am afraid” her thoughts flickered to one who was for a few moments and she shook them away - for now.

“Mistress…Web?” the voice of the lass from before came from her shoulder and she tilted her head to grin at her, “I brought the coin you asked for. The betting master suggested that next time you should both fight together and see if you can earn more for more risk” she proffered the pouch and Zandelia took it from her.

“Thank you. Did he now? Well tell him that we might take him up on that at some point but that if he is that eager for passion he should seek it with a woman more likely to open her legs for him”

The lass blushed, nodded and turned away once more as Zandelia tossed the pouch that was owed to Buras to him and looked at him critically, wondering if it would be worth the effort to try and make something of him that she could use. She tongued the inside of her teeth and decided to at least ask if it was something he would be interested in - in her own way.

“Tell me Buras…what do you want out of this city? Not to live but just for yourself. Do you see anything that you’d want beyond blood and gold?” she asked quietly, the words held meaning for him if he could discern it.

[Buras]

As the water washed over the cut, Buras couldn't stop a small flinch. He was glad he didn't need any stitches, didn't want anyone, even if they were helping, to poke holes in him. Holding the bandages in place, Buras says "I trained a little with that myrian I told you about. The one that ripped out a throat. And I beg to differ on not getting hit. First of all, its little to no fun in fighting someone that cannot touch you. Second, these cuts I have, Are mistakes, not afraid to admit that. But I learn from my mistakes. As for the blood, I tend to avoid it. In fact, the biggest reason I'm here is to get enough to pay for food. Maybe even a house." As Web talked about buying one of Brega's Lushers, Buras nearly laughed out loud. But, instead, he kept himself to a grin and a chuckle. "As tempting as that sounds, I don't think I'll be doing that. I'll get what I can, where I can, but I certainly won't buy it. Besides, I can probably patch this leg up in no time." When the girl came back with coin, he stuffed in his belt where he could keep a good eye on it. The suggestion about fighting with Web certainly caught his interest. What Web said, though, caused the laugh that he held in before to come out with a vengeance, and the girl's expression didn't help either. He didn't laugh much, who does in Sunberth, but it felt good to laugh. The cut in his side didn't like it, so it hurt to laugh. But he kept going anyway, lettering it stop when it felt like stopping. Whe Buras heard what Web said next, Buras wiped the residue of the laughter off his face as best he could. "How would I like this city to be. What do I think would be best for the city. Correct me if you mean something else. Well, we got a harbor, I would like it to do more then just import and export slaves. And we are living next to a mine, practically. We could go looking for more ores, rely less on other cities on getting materials we can easily get. And shipping goods is dangerous around here. People thinking they can be pirates because they have a ship and a sword. They would have to be cleaned up. To do that, we would need a few ships of our own. Where to get those is beyond me. With more money coming in, people can afford the things they need to live. They might even try to clean the strees up a bit. But to do all that, you would have to not attract to much attention from the other syndicates. It's a tall order, but that is what I think would improve Sunberth the most" After the first few sentences, it was obvious Buras liked this idea. Other ideas swirled in his head. How to do this or that. How to avoid the syndicates. It would be a better place to be, for just about everyone. Looking at Web, with a very serious face now, he says, "Can you help make it a reality?" If she could, great. If not, oh well, he had some half formed plans as it was.

[Zandelia]

She listened as she unwound the bandages and pulled the now bloodied strip of cloth from Buras’ chest and peered at the wound beneath. It had stopped gushing as much, for now, as far as she could ascertain and she replaced it with the second cut piece of rag and threw the blood soaked one to the side as no longer important. She pressed the lad’s hand to the new one so that he could hold it in place as her thoughts turned to what he claimed to want beyond all other things for the city of Sunberth. They were high goals, the path to them was dangerous and could come unfettered as quickly as one step could slip upon a pile of refuse - with much the same result she had to admit also. Still, it was refreshing to see someone who wanted to do something positive than filled with dark desire and as such he had passed the first test she had to give him.

His goals are not entirely selfless of course, he sees himself as the leader in such an enterprise. He would like to gain what such a role would provide, treasure of various natures. He sees wounds as important, that I can understand. A Scar without even knowing that he is yet…reckless all the same she thought to herself as she looked into the middle-distance in thought.

“Wounds can be instructive true enough but sometimes it is better to avoid gaining them altogether,” she stated softly, there was depth to her words as she tapped her dead eye with one finger, “remember that once you have been hurt you can’t go back. Know that, unless it is worth that damage, it seems hollow and pointless” she continued smoothly - she had dealt with those demons long ago.

All she sought to impart to him was a sense of perspective, something within which he could assess himself and his goals and see a path that was both achievable and more cautious than talk of grandiose schemes. She knew through bitter experience that you had to start small and build upon those foundations. Already she knew that herself and Fallon were building such things. Whether the others wanted the to or not was irrelevant in the grand scheme, they would drag everyone across the line bodily if required. And if they had other ideas…well there were bloodier solutions. She had killed before and if it meant Fallon got what she wanted she would kill again.

“Help you?” she asked gently, “yes I could help you but, I think, if one were a kindred spirit in changing the city to something better then the exchange would be even and open,” she circled the words as if she were stalking prey, “perhaps even they would expect people of such a mindset to join together for the betterment of the city and its people. Not a binding of blood, you see, but a binding of purpose” she progressed smoothly.

“Your ideas hold much merit, that I can’t deny, but their execution requires far more than a handful of people. You’re talking about taking on the Syndicates and that I can agree with. I’m not sure about starting with trade, however, you need people to have a means to produce and export before you start making bargains with other far off places,” she stated what she was thinking aloud without judgment, simply how she saw it as a fact, “personally I think starting with keeping the streets safer and improving the lot of the people as can help would be the best start. I have already done things in that regard”

“I could help you get what you wanted, eventually, as could my associates and those I hold dear,” she stated, it was a half-lie because she had yet to make her mind up upon some people, but he would not know it, “the real question is what would be in it for me?” she asked as she looked him squarely in the eye and hefted the thin bandages in her hands.

“I can fight better that you, have connections and abilities well beyond most in this city I’d wager. This is not a boast but fact. If I were to offer such skills for aid then what would I expect to gain in return?” she enquired bluntly as she began to wrap the bandages around his torso gently as best she could.

“Would you vow to help me? If you want to get involved with what you’re talking you need to get dirty and covered in danger. I could help you with that, teach you to fight better for one thing. But…again, why would I do that if I have no idea that you wouldn’t use such skills to try and turn upon me and mine?” she asked rhetorically.

“So, again, tell me…what would I get in return if I decided to help you? And what exactly would you want me to help you with?” she asked.

She knew better than anyone that if she knew what was desired then she could use that to tease him towards a better path - one filled with just as much ideology and a lot less blood…perhaps.