The Half blood, the runaway and the Blacksmith [Alija]

by **Ripp** on June 13th, 2015, 5:40 pm

3rd day of Summer 515AV

He definitely hadn’t planned on heading into this side of the city, it had just sort of happened. Ripp tended to think a lot, and it was a habit of his to do this while moving as if he couldn’t keep still. It even went so far as to leak into his dreams when he would be sleep walking. It was getting late in the afternoon now and Ripp had begun to notice that his surroundings were very different now than to when he had begun this stroll through Zeltiva. The streets were shabby, the people were shabbier and the atmosphere seemed tense as if he’d walked into a lion’s den. As if the people of east street could smell fresh blood. His black eyes darted around nervously. He felt like he should leave and quickly, but he didn’t want to speed up his walking in case it made him more visible.

The stares seemed more aggressive here, or maybe Ripp was just over exaggerating things in his head. He became very aware he hadn’t packed his dagger, however being that this place spiked his anxiety that was probably a good thing. He wasn’t carrying much, except a small pouch full of silver and copper. Up ahead he could see a bar. Ripp had never tried alcohol before, he’d never touched any sort of drug, he’d done all he could to stay in his right mind so he was prepared for anything. He felt some curiosity towards what it would feel like to be intoxicated. He assumed it would give him a break from his own head for a while. He found himself walking towards the bar. “Oi! Ye bastard! Look ‘ere!” He heard a voice behind him and jumped but they were calling to someone else. Ripp let out the breath he’d been holding and told himself mentally to relax.

He entered the bar. He didn’t really know what exactly he was expecting to find, but this was plenty worse than what he had imagined. It smelt like fish. Or maybe it’s inhabitance did. The bar’s patrons all stared at him. None of them seemed really to notice what he was, and soon enough eye turned away from him. Ripp took a coin and paid for a drink. He took a table in the back and waited a moment trying not to look anyone in the eyes. They can smell your fear Ripp! He thought to himself, only half kidding. Suddenly an unidentifiable concoction was slammed down on the table in front of him. He felt some of the goop splash his cheek. “What the…” This was not what alcohol looked like in Lhavit. He stared into the slimey depths with a look of disgust on his face.

He couldn’t think of anything he wanted to do less right now than drink it. But he’d paid for it and he could feel more than one pairs of eyes watching him. He lifted the cup towards his lips, and gaged at the smell. He pintched his nose and tried again. The first gulp left him coughing and dry heaving. It was very strong. Kelp beer, he decided, was definitely a bad choice for his first ever drink.

Suddenly a man laughed loudly and rip felt a slap on the back. He flinched and turned his head “Y’ der ye don’t look too normal” He slurred his words to the point where he was hard to understand. “What the hell are you lad?” His buddy asked appearing from across the table. Ripp glanced between them “I’m just a man trying to finish my drink” That sent them laughing “Not too sure if you was going to finish it or spit it over the floors!” Ripp took another sip, almost defiantly, then struggled to keep it in his throat. The sailors laughed again “Oi, ye see, we’s be thinking you look like one of them Zith.” Ripp kept his fear in check as much as he could “You aint seeing straight” He said “Leave me be.” He added, fizing the man with a glare. He didn’t seem too discouraged, but he did seem to be second guessing himself.

Ripp stood and left, giving up on the rest of his drink: That stuff was poison anyway. He almost made it half way to the door before he heard them following. “Oh good…” He muttered sarcastically to himself feeling a hand on his shoulder. He needed a distraction so he could flee. He hadn’t a clue what that might be but he needed to do something, that much was clear. He couldn’t survive a bar fight against this brute, drunk or not!

by **Alija** on June 14th, 2015, 8:38 pm

Kial had run away. Alija had been looking for him all day, but she still hadn't found him. It had started that morning, when the two took the dogs out for a walk. Little Kial had decided that it would be funny to hide in a nearby alleyway, and, of course, had never come out. Now, Alija was worried sick and finding it anything but funny.

She had traversed the whole of Zeltiva, but no one had seen the young boy. That only left one, very undesirable location for his hiding spot. East Street. The street Alija had learnt to ignore her whole life, trying to keep out of what was happening there. After all, as far as she knew, it was all illegal.

Rosco came closer to his mistress, the deerstalker brushing against her hand. It was like he was trying to reassure her, but at that moment it only made her feel worse. Rosco just reminded her of Trump, the little puppy she had bought with him. And Trump was somewhere out there, somewhere in East Street, somewhere with Kial.

However, having Rosco with her suddenly felt a lot better when she entered the street. People tended to avoid her, or avoid the big, growling dog by her side, and gave her no trouble but occasional seductive glances. It was one sailor who had tried to lure her in that she approached, knowing that wandering aimlessly would achieve nothing. The young man, seeing her come nearer, tried to appear nonchalant, although he flashed seductive smiles at her occasionally. Alija tried to follow suit.

"Hey, handsome," she giggled, batting her eyelashes a bit too much. She took care to keep Rosco in between them, however, not trusting the sailor one bit. "You look lonely."

The sailor flashed another smile at her, revealing several yellow and black teeth. Alija struggled to restrain herself from gagging. "So do you, little girl. Did you want some help from the master?"

"I was wondering," she asked, putting one arm on his shoulder, pulling herself a bit closer, "If you could tell me one, teeny, tiny itsy bitsy thing?" If the sailor hadn't been drunk, she wouldn't have been able to fool him. Thank goodness he was. "You haven't, by chance, seen a young boy with messy black hair with a little dog, about this big?"

The man frowned for a second, hoping that she would have asked something else, "I suppose I have. Are you single? Because I've heard that a child needs a dad." It was obvious he was suggesting himself.

"Perhaps if you tell me what I want, I'll answer your question."

The sailor looked a little disgruntled, before pointing to the bar. "I saw one chase a dog in there. Never came out. Now, darling, about your lack of a husband..."

"Lack? I have one. Yeah, big brute, tough, likes fighting. He killed a man to get me," Alija made him up on the spot, secretly laughing when the sailor jumped away, obviously scared of what her "husband" could do to him. She left without another word, walking with more purpose and anger towards the bar. She would teach Kial not to run away.

She opened the door to what seemed as the start of a fight, between a young man and a drunk one. And, crouched under a table holding a small dog, was Kial. Right in harms way. He looked terrified.

by **Ripp** on June 20th, 2015, 6:05 am

The hand felt like a weight pinning him to the spot. He wasn’t too afraid of fighting this man specifically, but he was an outsider, and outsiders tended to get ganged up on. There was no way he was making it out of this one. Oh what the petch was he thinking coming here? He didn’t have a death wish yet did he? Ripp’s eyes darted around. It was a good thing the foul smelling beast of a man behind him was still having his evil little monologue. The half-blood didn’t listen to what he was saying.

Ripp grabbed the man’s hand, dug his clawed nails into the flesh and bolted for the door. In his way was a couple of tables, which he had planned to toss in the man’s path so he’d trip. But Ripp stopped in his tracks before the first table. He couldn’t believe what he was seeing. Was that a small boy and an even smaller dog cowering under a table? “What the petc-“ He began to exclaim before he was cut off abruptly when his head hit the table he’d been about to upturn. Rip lost his balance and fell hard against the wood. He felt a cut open up on his forehead. Regaining his wits Ripp hit the floor and the drunk’s fist hit the table instead of him. He looked at the boy “You gotta petching move!” He yelled “Right now!” He gave the kid a rough shove ntended to get him moving if he was frozen “Run for the door!” He yelled.

Weather or not the kid moved he’d wasted too much time talking. The rest of the bar was perking up to the fight and a few men had stood to watch. Ripp stood facing the man, who had gained a few suppoeters. He wasn’t sure how badly his forehead was bleeding but he barely felt it. Too much adrenaline ran through his body. Trying to make a distraction so the boy could run had replaced his original plan of getting the hell out.

“Come on petch, that the best you can do is it? You're a joke!” He didn’t like that one bit. The man stumbled towards Ripp, swinging his fist obviously. Ripp could see the punch coming a mile off so he threw his weight to the side. “Swing and miss! You’re making yourself look a right little bitch!” He continued to yell nonsensical insults. Everyone else in the bar seemed to be forming a ring. How the hell was he getting out of this, and how long would it be until one of those strikes hit him? Ripp’s eyes were wide and he looked like a defensive wild animal. His sharp teeth were bared like a feral dog.

The man ran at him again. Ripp dodged again, but he was running out of room. He accidently bumped into another man who dropped his glass. He did not have time to get out of the way of this one and a bottle slammed into the side of his head and shattered. Ripp stumbled as if drunk himself and fell against a chair which toppled backwards. He felt a ringing in his ear and a sharp pain everywhere. Blood was in his right eye, and he was forced to close it. He felt an urge to throw up but somehow managed to bite that back. He recovered quickly once again but he was in a bad state, anyone could see. Ripp was ready to accept his demise but a miracle of sorts happened. The drunk that had bottled him had elbowed someone else, causing a chain reaction.

All around him sailor turned on citizen and soon enough he could no longer keep track of who was fighting who any more, he just hoped the kid got out. Ripp tried to crawl under tables towards the door. How was he gonna make it out of east street like this? He just hoped the stupid petching kid and his dog was alive. He better not have risked his life for nothing.

by **Alija** on June 20th, 2015, 6:28 am

The events were horrifying, but Alija hadn't expected any better.
The young man had started to run, knocking tables as he went, and Alija watched in horror hoping Kial would pick up the courage to take Trump and run, the courage to take himself out of danger and back towards her. Thankfully, the younger man - who Alija noticed wasn't all human - decided to help the boy instead of running or fighting, urging Kial to move away from the danger. The little boy, at first, was frozen with fright and shock, but he quickly took up his advice ans bounded towards the open door, falling into Alija's arms.

"Kial, I'll talk to you later. Take Rosco and Trump and go straight back home. Don't stray! " she ordered angrily, pushing him away. He stumbled a little before catching his footing, and started to run away slowly, guilty and ashamed at himself. Alija turned herself back to the fight scene.

An audience had really gathered, surrounding the man who had saved Kial at the cost of a large cut on his forehead. He dodged the other's blows, but it was obvious that the circle of drunks around them was just getting smaller and smaller and soon that man would be helpless. A bottle hit his head, and he flew into a chair, dizzy and hurt. Thankfully for him, the rest of the crowd forgot about this measly fight and began on their own, chaos erupting in the bar as it did every so often. Alija lost sight of the man, who had dropped to the floor and started to crawl through tables. But she needed to thank him and help him in return for his helping Kial.

So Alija entered the pub properly, pushing past waves of drunken sailors and citizens, slipping through gaps and going mostly unnoticed by them, as they were all preoccupied with theur own little fights. The woman spotted him under a table, a trail of blood leading to that spot. He looked weak and vulnerable, the cut severe. Alija stepped forward towards him before being blocked by a large, extremely drunk man.

"You! Where you goin'?" he slurred, hitting her hard on the head. She pulled her hand up to where she had been hit. It was sore, but luckily alright. Alija tried to dodge him, but his huge hand grabbed her wrist, tiny in comparison. His grip was uncomfortably tight, and Alija felt the blood stop. With her other hand, she boxed at him and hit him, but the huge oaf of a man was undeterred by her tiny swats, waving them away with another hit across her face. Alija brought up one leg, kicking him where she knew it would hurt. Suddenly, he collapsed, the pain must have been incredible. Another man leapt on top of him, pounding away. Alija hurried quickly, slipping under the table to reach Kial's saviour.

She took his arm and put it around her shoulder’s, hoping he wouldn't protest. After all, all she wanted was to get him out of the there, at least, but it was her duty to help and protect him, and so she would do whatever she could.

by **Ripp** on June 20th, 2015, 2:17 pm

As he did when he was younger, Ripp endured, and focused on survival. He crawled from table to table, ignoring the dizziness as best he could in order to watch out for the next falling object or person, and trying not to bump into anyone or trip anyone up. It seemed like he’d been forgotten. He pushed on, and he was getting close, but the dizziness was only increasing. He would have fallen if he hadn’t already been crawling. He paused as a man crashed to the ground in front of him, waited till he got back up then kept going. Ripp was running on adrenaline and his survival instincts alone now really. There wasn’t much else keeping him going. Out of the corner of his eye he saw the little boy leaving the building, which relieved him a little. But it still didn’t make him feel any better about possibly dying himself. Ripp pushed on, eventually making to his goal. Someone stepped on his hand and he covered his moth to stop himself from making any audible sound. He though about giving up a couple of times but something spurred him on.

His body was feeling heavier with every passing second, so when half his weight was alleviated, he noticed straight away the difference. A young lady, he’d seem glimpses of her before and he could only assume she was here for the boy. But why had she not left yet. Ripp didn’t say anything. Refusing her help would be ludicrous, he knew that he needed it. So he leaned on her as little as he could, and watched out for both of them He didn’t bother speaking, he didn’t have the energy and until they could get out thanking her was a secondary mission.

It was definitely more dangerous for this young woman with Ripp dragging her down but the two of them made it out onto the streets. Ripp’s legs almost buckled and he was forced to hold onto her a little more for support. “L-Lets get out of this place shall we?” He managed, regaining his balance again and releasing some of the pressure on her. Half his head was still bleeding, and there might still be bits of splintered glass stuck in his skin which was looking more ghostly pale than usual, contrasting the bright crimson blood quite artistically.

He managed to let go of her once they’d cleared the area, though this was out of habit now that he was safe from harms way. People stared for a different reason now of course: Ripp was bleeding. No one helped but they all gawked. Ripp didn’t bother to look at them, instead he focused on the woman who had stayed behind for him “Thanks” He told her “If it aint too much trouble, could you take me to a doctor, I’m not sure where the infirmary is… Very… new to this city.” He wobbled, and had to stand still a moment as dizziness threatened to take him down again. His hand retreated into his sleeve and he used it to try and put pressure on the weeping gash on his forehead. This action increased the pain but hopefully stemmed the blood flow a little bit.

“That kid with the dog, he got out right?” He asked “Is he your kid?” He asked her. He’d seen the kid leave, but he wanted to make sure there was anything he’d missed. No one was there for him when he was little, so he supposed there was a soft spot there for children, more so than the usual urge to protect them.

by **Alija** on June 20th, 2015, 3:04 pm

Thankfully, he didn't resist, and leant on her when his legs buckled, unable to carry him. He was pale and looked weak from loss of blood, half his face painted red with shards of glass sticking out. Alija wasn't that had. The place the man had hit her was still red and sore, and her wrist ached, but unlike her companion, it would go quickly.

When they left East Street, he let go of her, despite Alija happy to help him further. He dabbed at the cut with a sleeve, trying to stop the bleeding, while asking to be directed to the infirmary. The man had a dizzy spell again, legs buckling a little, but he managed to catch himself before Alija needed to. She started to walk slowly in the direction of the Infirmary, the journey far for someone as injured as him. She stayed beside him for support, ready to catch him or help him walk if he needed the help.

"No, he's not my son. Not really," she replied as they walked, trying to distract them both from the young man's injuries. "But his mum passed away in a shipwreck, and he had no one else to stay with. So I'm his guardian now. He's safe, don't worry about him."

She walked another few steps, "Thank you, by the way. You saved him. I'm in your debt." The University was closer and closer, the Infirmary in clear sight. "How is your head?" she asked, out of genuine concern. It didn't look very good.

They stumbled into the Infirmary not too much later, rows of clean empty beds ready for patients. The woman there was alone, looking at them with surprise. "That looks bad, very bad! Young man, come with me, and you there, the woman, get a cloth from over there, soak it in the water."

Alija left her companion, hurrying over to where she had been directed to. She dipped the cloth in the water, before pulling it out and squeezing out the excess water so it was only damp, not soaked. The cloth ready, she hurried back over, handing it over to the doctor who handed the cloth to the injured man. "Listen, I'll stay with you, okay? " Alija said quickly, feeling bad for him. He needed someone with him. That's what she thought anyway.

by **Ripp** on June 20th, 2015, 4:14 pm

The walk was long and difficult for Ripp. He had to focus on something other than the pain in his head and the wooziness, so he was probably a little more talkative. The woman, he thought, seemed to be fairly compassionate. He figured he must have won her favor a little bit by saving who he now understood to be her adopted son. It relieved him to know that he’d managed to keep the boy out of harms way. From what Ripp could deduce he assumed the boy was playing up. Probably a part of his grief, but worrying none the less if he was going to run into east street. For a second that thought amused him, because he had really done the same thing, hadn’t he? She brought him out of his thoughts by thanking him. “A Zeltivian human in my debt, there is a first for everything!” He chuckled but it sounded a little raspy and died down quickly. Although he had been joking, it really was quite a feat. This woman didn’t ask him what he was, or treat him any differently she just thanked him like she would anyone else, and helped him out the best of her ability.

He felt good, having saved that boy. He’d never been the brave sort, really and he was used to doing stuff for himself, and looking out for himself alone. But for a long moment when adrenaline kicked him, nothing was more important that the kids life. But he was glad it wasn’t a martyr situation.

He looked at her again, his eyes both cleared again now he’d had the chance to wipe the fluid out of his vision a little. She was commenting on his head. “Oh this? Tis but a scratch” Upon looking at her face and seeing the concern there he reassessed and gave her an honest answer instead “Yeah, not so great. But nothing life threatening.” He said shrugging. He’d been through plenty worse, but saying that just sounded like he was trying to be a tough guy, so he left it at that. They didn’t speak too much after that. Ripp was focusing on just placing one foot in front of the other. The infimery was in sight now. The people staring became people whispering again. He was glad that there was a human beside him, otherwise they might assume he’d done something and there was a “You should see the other guy” situation afoot.

They’d made it, and Ripp was directed to lay down, something which was a huge relief. He got the overwhelming urge to go to sleep, but he knew enough that wasn’t a good idea if there was the possibility of concussion. The doctor told him that as well, Ripp just nodded and let her clean his wounds. She painstakingly removed every little shard of lodged glass from his flesh. It stung but he didn’t complain. The gash on his forehead was the worse. The bottle had made it deeper, and as he feared it needed stitches.

This would take a little while, so Ripp expected the woman to leave, but she decided to stay. He looked over at her with mild surprise. He did want her to stay, he supposed. Maybe it was the loss of blood, but somehow he seemed to enjoy her presence. “What’s your name?” He asked instead of commenting on what she’d said. “I’m Ripp.” The woman began to work on the gash, after disinfecting everything, which was incredibly painful, but again he bit back any complaints.

by **Alija** on June 20th, 2015, 8:00 pm

A few people peered through the door at the infirmary, staring at the injured man. As the doctor cleaned him up and picked out shards of glass, Alija walked over, curious as to what they wanted. They looked at her with scorn. "Don't you know what he is? He's half Zith! Why are you helping him?" they hissed at her, glaring at both of them. Alija turned back around, ignoring them. She knew little to nothing about Ziths. She didn't really care. This man, whatever he was, had helped Kial and she was in his debt because of that. Perhaps it was surprising, as it was to the half-Zith, but she believed in it. She would not judge him otherwise.

When she came back over, the old woman had begun to disinfect the gash, and he was staring at her, mildly surprised at her offer to stay. "What's your name? I'm Ripp." He bit back the pain as the doctor worked at the gash, most likely either preparing to stitch it or stitching it (Alija couldn't see).

"Pleased to meet you Ripp. I'm Alija, Alija Piper. I'm a blacksmith in the Armed Scholar," she replied gently, trying to distract Ripp from the pain, "You may not know it, since you're new here, but if you ever need anything metal, feel free to come round. And you? What brings you to Zeltiva? Where do you come from?"

She smiled awkwardly, trailing off there. After all, she had only just met this guy. It would be rude to bombard him with questions, she supposed, and if he was in pain it might hurt him to reply. "I've never been outside Zeltiva, it must be nice to have a change of scenery. All I've ever seen are these streets and the sea and the mountains. I don't want to leave though. I'm happy here, safe and secure. " She had ran out of things to say. Nevermind, perhaps Ripp would be able to answer now.

by **J'Ak** on January 20th, 2018, 1:41 pm

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Closed The Half blood, the runaway and the Blacksmith [Alija]