Closed Smashed [Gillie Dhu]

[Meredith]

12th Day of Summer 514AV

Location: The Blue Bull

Meredith was trying something new, even though he knew that was sure to be a recipe for disaster. He’d had a particularly good day today, and he wanted to keep that feeling going as the night set in. So, he decided to be a proper local, and visit the most social tavern he knew of. For the past half hour he’d been awkwardly sipping at a mug of ale at a table and watching attractive people get much more drunk than he was, much more quickly and dance on the floor. There were no other men sitting on these tables, So he probably looked even more like a recluse than usual.

This needed to stop, at least for tonight. He wanted to blend in, so he made his way over to the bar and sat himself beside a boisterously drunk purple Akalak man and a pretty blonde woman to order himself another drink. “A mug of Smokey Blue Ale, thanks” He said, voice carrying more volume than it had in years. The barmaid filled a mug and gave it too him and he tried his best to mimic the men around him who were sculling their drinks. Unfortunately, being a lightweight, he coughed and spluttered and almost fell off his stall, gaining a roar of laughter from the men around him. “Hey look at this little guy!” One said in Slurred Tukant. Meredith flushed, and tried again, this time successfully sculling the drink to a round of applause, that sounded more mocking than anything.

In Meredith’s tipsy state, he didn’t notice the fact that he was being mocked, and he could feel a sort of warm glow about him, as if he was finally being accepted by the locals. “A-Another!” He declared, moving his arm to hit the bar table like he’d seen the other men do when they wanted another drink. Then he heard a crash and his heart sunk. “You clumsy petcher! That was a petching bottle of wine!” The intimidating Akalak wasn’t laughing anymore. He tried to think how much that would have costed and felt sick. A whole 10GM he definitely didn’t have in his wallet. “You better pay up!” The Akalak spat.

It was taking Meredith to long to translate what he was saying in his head, let alone to formulate a response. “I’m S-Sorry. I can’t… Don’t have… money” His Tukant was so fragmented it was barely understandable. I’m going to die He thought in a panic as he stood and backed away. The man towered above him. Meredith couldn’t defend himself, “You little shykehead! Pay up, or I’ll make you!” This was insane. “C-Can’t! I-I-I…” He shook his head and tried to figure out how he was going to get out of this. The Akalak closed his fist and Meredith stumbled back further and then tried to run away, but the man pushed him onto the floor “Running away like a perching coward, are you?!” Meredith had fallen hard, only just protecting his face. Pleading wasn’t going to work. This man was drunk and angry. In theory he should be able to dodge him, because he was slow in his state of intoxication, but Meredith couldn’t move, he was petrified.

[Gillie Dhu]

Gillie had come to the Blue Bull that night for a purpose. He did it sometimes when he'd had a rough day of errand-running. Still unemployed, and scrounging around for odd-jobs, Gillie found himself with loads of free time in-between shady jobs which ranged from intel-gathering to thievery. He'd learned, by necessity of survival, to get himself out of trouble and act instinctually. It wasn't enough to simply be reactive. If one was to thrive in a lifestyle like his, he had to be proactive.

Which meant he needed allies in all fields. This was his purpose for being here. The tavern was a great place to strike up conversation and make friends. It was also a good place to help someone should they pass out on the ground. Gillie rarely drank when he came--for one, he couldn't afford to splurge all the time. But secondly, and most importantly, he needed his wits about him every moment. His strength lay not in his build, for he was smaller than most, but rather, in his sharp mind.

And so, he did not partake of anything that could impede his most valuable tool. The high ground was precious, and should never be forsaken. The tactician knew this. He'd always known it.

So he socialized. And observed. He watched all kinds: the burly Akalak men who told stories and argued and roared with laughter; the women of various races who flirted and danced and turned men down; the Drykas and Svefra who stopped in on their way through.

There was one Svefra in particular who caught Gillie's eye. It wasn't because he was particularly impressive. Rather, it was just the opposite. This guy had commanded nearly everyone's attention with his drunken foolery. Gillie chuckled to himself at the man's antics. He was going to get himself killed.

And then he almost did. Having knocked over a drunk Akalak's drink, the Svefra soon found himself on the floor, staring up at the midnight-skinned warrior. Fists were clenched and raised. Gillie assessed the situation as quickly as he could. The Svefra man was most likely a former slave. That much was obvious to Gillie. He could tell by the meek way he held himself. And judging by his thin, frail figure, he was most likely malnourished too.

Probably wouldn't be much use in a fight, but he couldn't just leave him to get pulverized.

Gillie acted quickly, just as the infuriated Akalak scooped up the unfortunate Svefra and held him aloft. No one was looking at him; all eyes were on the Akalak and the Svefra. He snatched up an empty bottle and hurled it at the nearby Akalak's head. It shattered on impact and knocked the big man to the ground.

Heads turned, but not quick enough to catch Gillie in the act. He'd ducked behind a Drykas and a purple Akalak, who hadn't noticed him throw the object.

Chaos ensued. The Blue Bull erupted in an uproarious barfight, in which tables were overturned, glasses and bottles broken, and fists thrown. No one knew who had started the fight, but in a frenzy, the most intoxicated of the Bull-goers collided with each other in a drunken brawl.

Gillie crawled toward the individual he'd just rescued. Ducking to avoid a thrown glass, he grinned at the Svefra.

"These guys sure know how to throw a party, huh?"

[Meredith]

As he was lifted into the air by his collar Meredith had just about given up. His master had been strong enough to lift him like this as well, and he’d never gotten out of it. The collar was chocking him as the man twisted it and lifted his feet above the ground, and he gasped for breath. Suddenly he fell to the floor again gasping and wheezing, trying to regain his breath.

A bottle had smacked straight into the man’s head and Meredith had to move out of the way before the beast of a man fell on top of him. He looked around for the one he had to thank for probably saving his life but he was no where to be found. A full fledged bar war had erupted and Meredith found himself crawling on the floor and dodging glass.

Another boy began crawling towards him. He suspected that this guy was the one who had rescued him “T-Thanks” Meredith said breathlessly, “Y-You really saved my skin” He said cursing his own stupidity, he shouldn’t have even come here in the first place. Boots pounded the floor around him and he winced, and crawled towards a table, looking for some sort of shelter before he said anything else the grinning man. He wanted to make it to the door, but the crowd was so thick over there, he didn’t currently see that as an option.

It was times like this he wish he’d listened to his mother and focused on learning to fight as a child. There were so many things he’d taken for granted when he was younger, safety being the biggest one. “What do we do?” He asked the stranger “I don’t think I like this ‘party’ anymore.” He said, trying to grin but failing spectacularly. Why did he have to come here tonight? Why did he have to try to be normal like that? Of course he’d petched it up, he always did.

[Gillie Dhu]

“What do we do? I don’t think I like this ‘party’ anymore.”

Gillie chuckled. "Really? It's kinda growin' on me."

He winced at the uproarious clamor and crashing of glass overhead. "The name's Gillie. Pleased to meet you. Sorry the circumstances are a little... Uncomfortable. How about we mosey on outta--"

Suddenly, the table under which they hid was cast aside by an enraged bar-brawler. Gillie reacted as quickly as he could and sprung to his feet in a crouched position. He knew he'd probably have to move quickly, so he prepared accordingly.

It was the Akalak from before, who had snatched up the unfortunate skinny Svefra to pound him in the face. Only now he had a trail of blood down the right half of his face, due to Gillie's thrown wine bottle. He was obviously disoriented, but still capable of fury. And there was a lot of it.

He roared something Gillie couldn't understand. Probably in Tukant, which he wasn't half-bad at, but still hadn't mastered. But before the drunken Akalak could pummel Gillie and his new Svefra acquaintance into the ground, Gillie dove under his long legs and pantsed him from behind--undergarments and all.

Then, with a swift boot to the hindquarters, he sent the Akalak stumbling, and tripping, forward. He toppled into some drunk, wrestling human men. Bouncers had rushed to contain some of the more dangerous of the brawlers, and were now working on settling down the other bar-goers. But still, chaos ran rampant.

"To the door?" Gillie inquired, looking to his acquaintance.

[Meredith]

As the cover they hid behind was uprooted, Meredith looked on with terror at the enemy he’d made so idiotically. The Akalak said something probably very rude in Tukant as he geared up to pummel them into the ground like nails. Why did this happen to him? Served him right for trying something new, he thought grimly. This was definitely NOT the way he wanted to die. Meanwhile his new acquaintance, Gillie, reacted almost immediately to the threat by rolling out of his way and crouching ready to strike.

Gillie, he said his name was. He was a picture of the mischievous young man the Svefra used to be. Even though he was in danger from every direction. Even though he had a bleeding purple beast of a man out for his blood, Gillie somehow managed to get him to smile. It was hardly a chuckle, or even a grin, no, that came later, when the overconfident young man actually managed to pantse him, smashing what little pride he had left when he kicked the man from behind into two brawling men, his rear end exposed.

His face was a mixture of disbelief and amusement. “Holy shyke” He breathed. Gillie’s voice returned again and the Svefra snapped out of his shock “Yeah” He replied, hurrying through the path through the anarchy the purple Akalak had paved for them. Meredith made his leaden legs work and hurled himself towards the door, running on nothing but adrenaline.

When they made it, relief was immediate and incredible “Holy skyke” He muttered again, rather out of breath. He turned to Gillie “Thank-you” He said earnestly “That guy would have knocked my head clean off my shoulders.” Meredith was far too shell-shocked to be nervous now. “I’m Meredith.” He introduced himself “Really glad to have met you Gillie” He said, even chuckling a little. “Though I’m sorry I ruined your night” he added shyly

His hands were shaking. He’d only just realized this now. Why couldn’t he have one moment when his anxiety didn’t overcome him? Just one petching moment! He needed to be somewhere, anywhere far from this tavern, so he gestured that they keep walking, and then clasped his hands together, hoping Gillie wouldn’t notice they trembled so pitifully. He wondered if he’d ever be completely healed, and able to act like a Svefra again one day. He couldn’t even sense the light at the end of this tunnel he was stuck in yet. He couldn’t look directly at his savior, for he felt ashamed: Ashamed of his issues, and his initial stupidity, ashamed of being rescued even.