The Wayfarer's Inn

[Isolde Alarion]

Mourgan

Third Week of August

@Rillewen @Arnyn @Pele Alarion @The Occultated

Mourgan sipped his drink as the telling of the story continued only with Kaylin adding what she saw and did. It was pretty interesting and when Trastion mentioned Cali's part in it all he gave Trastion a small tip of his mug of approval. Although he'd told her to run, he was thankful she hadn't listened to him. Things most likely would have ended very badly for everyone, especially him. He would always be indebted to those that saved his life that day.

Just then Trastion moved off his stool and seemed to catch himself as it seemed the room started to spin for him. Kaylin grabbed for him and then things happened so suddenly that Mourgan found himself looking down at a fallen Kaylin and Trastion while his boots dripped with spilled drink. It didn't bother him; he was more concerned about his friends who were laughing so it seemed no one was hurt in their tumble. "I suppose it doesn't count since you didn't fall on your own accord." He grinned and answered Kaylin as he offered help by taking her by the upper arm to help steady her while she stood up. "Careful there." He released her when it seemed she would be alright again.

He then noticed Cael take one of the semi filled mugs of Trastions and downed it then began to dance. He watched her, curious about her behavior. He really didn't have enough experience around elves to know if this was usual behavior or something brought on by the drink or whatever it was she'd been smoking. He'd had experiences with certain smoked concoctions before and knew of some of their effects. Dancing was one of them. Not his finest hour for sure but he'd used it to numb his feelings and his mind when it had come time to fight but that hadn't been needed in a couple years, so he let the thoughts slide away as the ale once more slid down his throat as he tipped his mug up to finish it.

He pushed the empty mug across the bar surface towards Alf. He motioned for another one and spoke as he looked to check on Kaylin and Trastion. "Do you surrender Kaylin or should I order you another round? Trastion? Do you surrender??"

[Pele Alarion]

Cadil
Third Week of August

Cadil found himself greatly immersed in the story and hanging on to each word to hear how the whole situation turned out. He listened in silence and did not say anything even when Kaylin kept hitting his back so hard that some of his beer splashed over the counter top where he had quickly tried to deposit it to avoid choking on it or getting it all over his clothes.

"Lieutenant Brian is quite a character," he eventually managed to interject. "But he does know his business all right." If it was not so Cadil supposed that the Barracks would have been long ago burned to the ground or torn apart brick by brick. He had managed to get in trouble a couple times when he was still in training, but then again it seemed that he managed to annoy Pele more whenever they happened to work on a task together.

The whole matter of two Arnyns and a giant wolf sounded rather unrealistic, but at the same time he did not really have grounds not to believe the story. Eventually he decided to see if he could perhaps check it with more people at some point, though he was already somewhat envious that he had not been able to witness it himself. Yet, the mention of two killed Rangers made a frown appear on his face, as he realised that it was more danger and seriousness than just slightly extreme adventure.

"Careful!" he called belatedly, as both Trastion and Kaylin ended up on the floor, accompanied by the drink the redhead had snatched up and not managed to empty. Luckily it seemed that they both were quite unharmed, even though wobbly.

And then Cadil found Cael reach for his mug of stout which he had pushed further away when placing his half-empty mug on the counter to avoid it being splashed all over himself. He opened his mouth to object, but the Elf downed the drink in one quick go, so he only rolled his eyes and let the matter be.

"At any rate, I won't even try competing with you, Mourgan," he turned towards him when he asked if others would surrender. "Count it as a win. Besides..." He moved again on his stool to see that Cael had taken to dancing. He watched for a few moments in amusement, and then turned back to the matter at hand: "So what happened? The thing... Relic, went from being Arnyn to being wolf, and? Don't tell me the wolf devoured someone?"

[Rillewen]

@Arnyn @Isolde Alarion @Pele Alarion @The Occultated

Recruit Trastion Leithor
Third Week of August

As far as Trastion was concerned, one didn't even need to be drunk to find the humor in this. Or maybe it was just him. As he helped Kaylin to her feet, he was struggling to get over the laughter, but it took a while. Still wearing a grin, Trastion looked at Mourgan when he asked if he surrendered, or if he wanted another drink. "I dunno, should I?" He asked with a little laugh, glancing from his roommate to Kaylin as she declared that her balance was usually a lot better. Hopefully, she could give him some sort of clues as to what he should do... how much a person who was supposedly drinking for the first time should be able to handle, and so forth. But maybe she was too drunk by now to be of much help to him... he wasn't sure. And he was also unsure whether he was acting well enough. Still, he was definitely having fun. Now that he and Kaylin were both upright again, he couldn't help but notice how much more 'wobbly' Kaylin was. More so than he'd ever seen her. It was rather amusing, since he was much more used to seeing her on the training grounds, ready to fight. She was one of the best swordspersons he'd ever seen, and he was suddenly wondering whether she'd still be able to beat him in a sparring match now, in her current condition. If she couldn't even stand straight... well. That was something to keep in mind, anyway. Just in case.

Before he could entertain any thoughts about suggesting anything of the sort, Cadil suddenly brought his memory back to the story he was telling. "Oh, right!" He exclaimed. He had just about got to the best part (in his opinion) and had actually gotten up, with the intention to add in a little 'acting' as he told it, when he got distracted by Kaylin pulling him down. But yes, he needed to finish the tale, and hopefully Cadil's curiosity would be satisfied then. "Uhhh. Where was I?" He paused with a slightly puzzled look on his face for a brief moment, then it cleared as he recalled. "Right.. wolf staring her down, Arnyn running straight toward it.. sword pinned down.." He recalled, as if to refresh his own memory.

"So there she was, running toward the wolf, dagger in hand." He reminded anyone who was still interested and listening, "And then, just when it seemed that she was going to run straight into its waiting jaws..." He backed up a step or two as his eyes widened with the excitement of the memory of that moment, "She dropped to her knees and sliiiiiiiiiid across the floor toward the monster... then stabbed!" He actually dropped onto his knees and mimicked the upward stabbing motion with his imaginary dagger, trying to demonstrate just how epic the move had been. "The blade sank deep into the wolf's throat... a blade which, by the way, I neglected to mention earlier.. was the same one Relic had been carrying. It had poison on it... so that might have been enough to do the job." He recalled that bit of information suddenly, and also realized that meant that it was also probably the same one that she'd stabbed Mourgan with. But he didn't really know that part of the story.

"But Arnyn wasn't taking any chances," He went on. "She yanked the dagger back out, blood gushing over all over her like a crimson fountain." He staggered a bit as he got back up to his feet, and caught himself on a nearby table, using it to keep his balance. "The wolf's teeth were inches from her... but she didn't even care. She slammed her elbow up into the beast's jaw, snatched up the sword as the wolf was momentarily stunned from the blow... then slammed it into the monster's chest! Impaled it!" He made a stabbing motion as if he had a sword in his hand, stumbling a little as he stepped forward with the stab, and away from the support-table. "The wolf let out the loudest, most awful howl you can imagine."

He moved back toward his stool and held onto it, making his steps a bit weaving and unsteady. "It was so loud, I wanted to cover my ears.. but then, the howl turned into a piercing scream that seemed to go on forever. And the wolf... changed into a woman again. Relic. The evil, cold-hearted sorceress... now lay collapsed on top of Arnyn, the sword's blade still protruding from her back. He took a deep breath and looked around. Cael had started dancing and he wasn't sure if she was still even listening, but Cadil definitely was interested, and Mourgan seemed to still be listening. "And that... was the end of Relic the Cruel."

[Arnyn]

Kaylin
Third week of August

"Well that's a relief," she told Mourgan, grinning at him as he helped pull her up along with Trastion. She followed her friend's gaze to Cael - who was now dancing. Surprised at this, Kaylin slanted her head. Even if she'd wanted to join in (and those odds would have been small any day), at the moment the better choice would be not to do so. Her balance was far too precarious. And she couldn't let Mourgan win that easily! Speaking of...

"Surrender?" A set of raised eyebrows and almost indigant blue-grey eyes returned Mourgan's look. "Not a chance. Another round, it is. For Tras, as well! Lightweight as he is, he needs to improve his resistance a bit," she declared. "Though it wouldn't surprise me if he starts talking much too loudly and starts singing his stories instead of telling them," she grinned, looking at the recruit near the end of that sentence. "The loud part, at the very least. Luckily you don't have all that much money, Tras. Or you might start buying anyone and everyone here a drink, too."

Kaylin mimicked the movement of the dagger along with Trastion's - she couldn't stop herself. It had been such a powerful image. She was still so grateful to have seen it with her own eyes. She watched Cadil and Mourgan intermittently, with a few glances toward the dancing Cael in between, who seemed to have lost most interest in the story. Perhaps Cael preferred to tell stories rather than listen to them? Surely, this one was excellent?

Giggling at Trastion's use of 'crimson fountain', Kaylin looked back at the recruit to give him an encouraging smile. "Relic the Cruel," she smirked when he was done. "Not too shabby, lil' brother. Not too shabby at all! You're getting the hang of it!"

[Pele Alarion]

Cadil
Third Week of August

Cadil nearly forgot about the mug before him, as he listened to the story unfold with rapt attention, his brown eyes widening at the descriptions of the scene supplemented with Trastion's visual aids.

After a short silence he applauded eagerly either to celebrate the good story, the skills of the story-teller, or the resulting getting rid of the sorceress. Perhaps it was for all of these reasons; at any rate, he had been properly impressed.

"Oh man, what crazy stuff! I almost wish I had been there, though would not fancy being one of the killed folks..." he commented, and then sipped from his beer again. He could not deny being ever so slightly envious of adventures while he had been quietly hiding out at home and not even engaging in his usual pub crawling. But promises were promises, and those had to be kept.

Then he looked at Kaylin and assessed her staunch commitment to not losing the drinking competition, though she already seemed much more affected than Mourgan. Cadil grinned, thinking to himself that it was likely that he'd have to assist her in getting home after this instead of her helping him.

(29)

[The Good Hunter]

A Third Week in August

Despite Cael’s propensity to get lost in the winding corridors of her own head, she was adept in the arts of paying subtle attention and eavesdropping. Even as she danced to the strange rhythms reverberating within her own psyche, the elf was listening to the tale Trastion and the others were weaving. It was an important tale, at least to them, and therefore it deserved a measure of respect. More often than not, Cael was accused of being rude and disrespectful towards others. At least half the time, well maybe a quarter… of a quarter of the time she was merely interacting with the world in a way that made sense to her at the time. Hopefully, these Gondorian rangers would not think she was being rude because she was dancing about (and drinking and smoking) while they told their collaborative story. She wanted to process the story being told, wanted to visualize it, and understand its rhythm and in order to do that, she needed to move, to dance, to flow with the story. The story was engaging but it was not interactive, not for her at least, having been the only person in the inn who didn’t have an inkling as to who or what this event was and why it happened. Her foundation was literally their words, all the kinetic energy of the story and the story tellers needed to be processed in a way that made sense to her, and dancing, in this moment, was what made sense to her.

She’d been kicked out of the Hall of Fire (Hall of Farts more like), for being too fidgeting during someone’s story telling and for not being appropriately submissive in apology for it. That had been the last time she engaged in the Elven style of storytelling. Too long, too stoic, too stolid. This drinking game the Gondorians were playing during their storytelling was much, much better.

Lupine Relic, her furry ass is now grass
Her horrid ideas cannot come to pass

As sharp as her teeth were, her wits did not match
Some sword wielding Rangers with whom she did clash

Her rapacious hunger now has been sated
A sword down the gullet was what was fated

It wasn’t much, it didn’t have a tune to go with it. But it was a start. At the very least it was going to require more smoke and more alcohol. Cael found herself without either suddenly, having taken the last drag on her cigarillo as she was singing without savoring or smokering. Damn!

[Rillewen]

@Arnyn @Isolde Alarion @Pele Alarion @The Occultated

Recruit Trastion Leithor
Third Week of August

Trastion laughed at Kaylin's praise. "Thank you!" He grinned, and nodded to Cadil for the applause. It hadn't been expected, but was kind of nice, in a way. Meanwhile, he had taken note of Kaylin's subtle hint/cue about talking louder and such, and tried to make sure to keep that in mind. "Anyway," He said to Cadil, "I hope that answers whatever you were asking.. I totally don't even remember what it was now, but.. anyway that's what happened." He said with a little laugh.

Although he actually did remember, it seemed more 'drunkish' if he didn't, and so that was what he was going with. Still laughing a bit, he agreed with Kaylin's declaration that he have another drink, "Alright, alright, if you insist." She definitely didn't do things halfway, he thought with amusement. "I'll have another of my original drink," he added to Alf, to make sure Alf brought the right thing for him. Despite the humor of it all, and the fun he was having, he was still quite uneasy about all of these alcoholic drinks all around, and worried about his getting mixed up with one of those.

"Ha, I don't need to buy the drinks!" Trastion declared with a grin. "Mourgan's paying, right?" He nudged his friend lightly with an elbow, teasing.. but he did recall that gold coin the other had put on the counter earlier. Surely, that would buy more drinks than they'd consume, unless they were more expensive than he thought. Hopefully not. "But now it's someone else's turn to tell a story," Trastion continued, turning back to the others, and raising his volume a touch. Not too much at once, he figured, or it might be obvious. "I've got nothing else to tell... sorry, but I hear Kaylin is full of tales." He smirked and looked at her expectantly. "What've you got, sis?"

[Pele Alarion]

Cadil
Third Week of August

"Well..." Cadil began, and then fell silent again to listen to the short song Cael now sang. It was light-hearted and the imagery used made him chuckle. He raised his mug towards the Elf as if to express a wordless praise.

"Now, I suppose the end of the story said it all," he then turned back to Trastion. "Also, I my life is generally too boring to come up with fancy stories like that. But wouldn't mind to hear what others have!" He looked from one companion to another to see who would step up to the storytelling, while he thought to himself that perhaps he could in fact tell a couple stories, but most were quite embarrassing and others he did not care to remember.

Having given up on the drinking competition, he took another small sip of the mug which was still less than a half full - there was no haste to empty it, because if other stories were shared he wanted to be able to listen to those with most of his wits still around him. He'd been cooped up at home for long enough to be more thirsty for human interactions and exciting tales than for actual alcohol, and it showed in his current preferences.

[Arnyn]

Kaylin
Third week of August

"Oooh no no no no," Kaylin refused Trastion's invitation, laughing. "It feels like all I've been doing lately, is telling stories! Besides, we have an immortal here with a whole selection of new stories up her sleeve!" She gave Cael a challenging look. "Right? Plus it seems like you need a refill. Perfect way to do that, is to give us a good tale."

Was it a bribe? She supposed it might be seen that way. But really, wasn't it just like any trade transaction at the Marketplace?

Meanwhile, she dug int drink number six.

[Isolde Alarion]

Mourgan

Third week in August

Mourgan laughed at Kaylin. Pleased she wasn't going to give in so easily. What would be the fun of that?! More drinks were ordered, and he nodded as Trastion nudged him about paying. He glanced at Alf to be sure there was enough value in the gold piece left to buy another round, or two. "Sure, I'll get this round." He motioned for another round, and his attention went back to listening to Trastion tell his tale.

By the time it had concluded he had another drink in his hand. Relic the Cruel. He liked that. Kaylin encouraged him and he slightly raised his mug. "Well done, Trasiton!" He cheered him on but when the subject of others telling a story he buried his face in his mug.

He was no storyteller. He liked reading them and listening to them but when it came to the telling he always seemed to jumble up the facts or mess it up somehow. Lowering his mug, he slightly raised it again. "Come on you two! Trastion, I'll buy you another if you've another story in you!" Well, that should keep him out of the story telling business he figured at least for a while. He hoped.

[Arnyn]

Kaylin
Third week of August

The door to the inn opened and four men poured in. Two of them were snickering about something as they walked in, and they seemed no better or worse than any of the other patrons by the looks of them. Kaylin, always curious and after binging the amount of drinks she had, had now turned boundlessly nosey. She frowned, slanting her head as she watched them. As if she was trying to solve a puzzle. "Yo," she said loudly, nudging Mourgan. "You know them?" She did not realize she should have nudged Trastion, instead of Mourgan - for Trastion was the one who had 'met' the four, alongside her and Rallick.

"Cause I feel like I do," she added in more of a mumble. The four hadn't noticed her staring and had claimed a table not too far away. Not waiting for anyone's reply, Kaylin pursed her lips in thought. "I really do. I just... don't remember. But odds are they'll remember me, right?" It wasn't meant to be arrogant - she just figured they would still have more of their wits about them than she did at present. After all, they'd only just arrived!

"Fellas!" she called out as she started on her way to their table. "Where have we met? We HAVE met, right?"

[The Good Hunter]

A Third Week in August

Drinking the last of the foam dregs from her mug (it wasn’t hers at one point but she’d forgotten who had it before she pilfered it so, naturally it was now her mug), Cael realized it was her turn to tell a story. Quickly, she began to cycle through all the good ones she knew. She couldn’t remember her childhood, but she could remember nearly every story she’d ever been told, now include the tale of “Relic the Cruel”. She decided on one, a good one, one that was purported to be completely true without any embellishments (which meant it was a total lie), one that was liable to scare the pants off these Ranger lads. She’d tell “The Ash-tree” as told to her by an old tutor up in Dale by the name of Montague Roades. It was a good tale, atmospheric and creeping, a perfect pleasing terror. Cael smiled.

However, before she could start her tale, before she could even begin to strum her oud to create some ambience, more figures came through the door. People that the redhead apparently was familiar with, or thought she was familiar with. Either way, something dawned on Cael, or crashed into her depending on one’s point of view. She was an uninvited guest here. She’d more or less barged her way into this circle of companions and insinuated herself. Sure the moment had been fun, but it was more than passing clear they weren’t the most comfortable with her presence. They were polite enough, perhaps more polite than she might have been given the reverse, but they were not her friends and she’d been quite intrusive.

Let the lads have fun, let them drink their drinks and tell their tales. “Cheers lads, drink the house down before you leave,” she intoned quietly, as if it were an invocation.

Now came the part of the story that Cael was masterful at: the exit. Before anyone could notice, all of them focused on the men currently entering the inn, Cael backed away, back to her original table with the remains of a bacon sandwich. She counted the coin required for the meal and the drinks quickly and left it stacked precariously on the edge of the table. She scribbled down a note that none were likely to read, a thank you and an address where she might be found.

There was always a backdoor through the kitchens. Over the years, through questionable performances and equally questionable liaisons, Cael came to understand the layout of all inns, even if she’d never been to a specific one. The best way of escape in a crisis or if one simply wanted to disappear quietly, the kitchens were the place to do it. The Wayfarer was no different. She passed a few pots sporting bubbling liquids and something that smelled both savory and sweet in the over and was back out in the late summer air of Minas Tirith, love it or leave it.

She’d go up higher, the Honeycombe. Hopefully Lady Gimilrazân would let her play for her supper a few nights.

[Rillewen]

@Arnyn @Isolde Alarion @Pele Alarion

Recruit Trastion Leithor
Third Week of August

Trastion grinned when Cadil mentioned his life was too boring for a story. Perhaps he was lucky, but Trastion didn't comment on that. He was a bit intrigued, when Kaylin turned down the offer of a story, and suggested that maybe the elf had a few tales to share with them, but before she had a chance to speak up, Mourgan had offered to buy Trastion another drink if he would tell another story. He glanced at Mourgan, briefly unsure how to reply to that. Really, that wasn't the best incentive for him, as he wasn't really that interested in having another drink. Even as good as that apple-y honey stuff was, he'd had plenty already.

But, he was trying to play a part, and let out a slightly awkward laugh as he tried to think. "Uhhhhh..." He thought swiftly about whether to try and take up the challenge or not. Did he even have any stories though? Anything worth telling, that others would enjoy hearing? Something that was safe to tell, and that wouldn't draw any undue attention to him and where he had come from... it was tricky. Maybe they should let the elf tell a tale, she must have tons of interesting stories, right?

Just then, Kaylin started watching some strangers who had just come in, and nudged Mourgan to ask if he knew who they were. Alf had, by then, brought a fresh round of drinks over, and Trastion quickly claimed the one that was his before anyone else could get it by mistake. After taking a cautious sniff to be sure it was, indeed, the apple flavored drink, he took a sip before glancing over curiously to see who Kaylin was asking about.

By then, she had started moving toward them, calling out to ask if they remembered where she'd seen them before. Trastion blinked, watching the four of them look up in surprise as the redhead came over to them. He recognized them immediately, and his eyes widened in horror. Oh no. Not them! "Kaylin, no!" he called, trying to keep his voice down to a whisper as he hastily set his mug down and reached out to try and catch hold of her arm before she could move any closer to them. He was too late. His foot was hooked between the rungs of the stool, too, and as he leaned too far out to try and grab Kaylin, he ended up toppling over, stool and all. No acting involved, that time.

Meanwhile, at the table, the four guys looked up, slightly confused when a pretty woman came over to their table, but it seemed that they all found it a pleasant surprise. One of them happily dragged a fifth chair over, welcoming her to join them and have a few drinks with them. The two nearest to her started trying to guess where they might have seen her before, while another made a flirtatious comment.

Scrambling to untangle himself from the stool, Trastion was a little late in getting back to his feet, but when he did, he hastened over to try and grab Kaylin before she could take a seat, hoping to direct her back toward safety. "Sorry, uh, she's a bit drunk," He apologized with a slightly awkward laugh as he tried to offer an excuse for her overly outgoing behavior, attempting to guide her away from them before they could recognize either of them. "Don't mind her... sorry about the intrusion. Come on, Sis." He tried to drag Kaylin back toward the bar with the rest of their group while hoping with all his might that they wouldn't remember where they'd seen her, or him, before...

Just then, one of the guys' jaw dropped, and he spoke up. "Oh! Now I know where we saw these two before!" He didn't sound very pleased about that, and leaped up to hastily block Trastion's path. He pushed Trastion roughly in the chest, forcefully enough to push him back a step. His eyes narrowed. "You... you're not getting away so easily this time!" He glared, before glancing toward his friends. "It's the pup, and his sister!" He declared angrily, reminding the other three of that unfortunate incident, a bit more than a month prior. Looks of shocked realization quickly passed around the table as it dawned on the others. That's where they'd seen them before... of course!


"You!" One of the guys leaped up, anger flaring as he faced Kaylin. "You got me and my buddy tossed in gaol for a week!" Elmore, if Trastion remembered right, or was that the other one? Bothir? He hadn't really memorized their names or anything, and had never heard the names of those other two. Only the two who had chased him and Kaylin in the alley, who had gotten arrested...

"Uh.. no," Trastion denied hastily, shaking his head. "You must have us mistaken for someone else."

"Oh, I remember you," One of the others, a big-muscled guy declared as he left the table and approached, glaring at Trastion. "I owe you a broken nose." His had, apparently, been broken somewhat recently, and was a little crooked.

Trastion recalled that he was the same big guy who had tried to hold his arms while the other thug had meant to punch Trastion in the face.. only this guy had taken that punch instead, when Trastion ducked. He tried not to look too amused at the memory of that incident. "Oh... no, that's alright. I completely forgive you that debt," Trastion replied swiftly. "Really, you don't owe me a thing." He assured him a bit nervously as he took a step back. He glanced past them, toward their friends, a bit worriedly, unsure if he and Kaylin would be left to deal with this themselves or not. It wasn't quite fair to drag Mourgan and Cadil into it... and where'd the elf go, anyway? But Kaylin, well.. he wasn't sure whether she was in any condition to try to fight, so he tried to keep a little in front of her, just in case. 

Idly, Trastion wondered... how did he always seem to find himself in some kind of trouble?

[Arnyn]

Kaylin
Third week of August

"How about the Horn?" One of them asked. Another offered a different possibility. "Do you work at one of the marketplace shops, sweetheart?"

Kaylin tapped a finger to her lips. "Maybe?" she replied to the suggestion of the Horn of Gondor pub. "No... no, I don't," she smiled at other guy, and gestured emphatically at herself, since she was still in training gear. "Obviously not?"

"There are armourers at the marketplace, love," the guy responded while he indicated the chair one of the others had pulled up.
"Yeah, a beauty like you would be a great way to advertise the goods," the third one flirted shamelessly, meanwhile giving Mourgan and Cadil a triumphant look. After all, the redhead had left their table in favour of their own.

Thinking how nice it was when strangers could just be nice like this and talk freely without a hidden agenda, Kaylin laughed and waved away the last comment. "Don't be silly. I'm not in any sort of trade."

The flirtatious man raised an eyebrow at a buddy. "Too bad. Am I right?"
"Shh," she other one hushed his friend. "This could still turn into something, Elmir. Don't ruin it with your loose tongue, a'ight?"

When Trastion grabbed her arm all of a sudden and started pulling her back, Kaylin frowned up at him with some confusion. What was wrong? She wasn't doing anything wrong, right? A bit drunk or not, all she was doing was trying to figure out why these guys looked so familiar! Otherwise, it would bother her for days...

One of the guys laughed. "They're having some trouble accepting they couldn't keep the lady entertained!" But then Elmir said he remembered not just her, but Trastion as well.

Kaylin frowned. She was still puzzled. The man came up right next to Trastion and shoved at him! Trastion kept his balance but had to take a sudden step backward, which pulled a bit on her arm in a way that had her feeling like a sudden wave was pushing the ground from beneath her feet. Kaylin wobbled dangerously, but Trastion managed to keep her upright even while facing the man. As the latter continued his displeased comments, Kaylin looked on in disbelief. Why would they be trying to get away? She had just approached them! Honestly. They weren't making much sense.

The one who'd hushed his friend before suddenly got angry, getting all up in her face.

"Tossed in the goal?" she repeated, flabbergasted. "What are you even talking about?" Trastion seemed to agree, since he said the guys were mistaken them for other people. Kaylin pouted. "This is ridiculous," she stated. "We were getting along so well just now! What changed?"

Elmir looked away from Trastion to his buddy. "Remind her, Balthor. Maybe you should knife her knee, show her what it's like."

Kaylin's eyes widened a little. Her lips parted with the sudden realization while, next to her, Trastion was reassuring one of the goons from the secret pub they'd visited over a month ago, that he didn't want to cash in on any debts. These were the guys who had thrown them out of the place! And then... And then Elmir and Balthor had tried to jump them after they'd gotten the liquor, and... yeah. Trastion and Kaylin had gotten them arrested by the city guard. So they'd been thrown into the gaol, even without them reporting to the guard the next day?

She pressed her lips together. And tried. She really did. She tried not to... But it was a very short struggle, and it was one she was destined to lose after the drinks she'd had. The giggles started tumbling out, and before she knew it she was laughing straight into Balthor's face. "Hahaha - oh crap - I'm - sorry," she managed, still laughing, but soon Trastion was stepping back and taking her along with him. Trastion was positioning himself a bit between her and the guys, but Kaylin hardly noticed as she kept laughing and giggling. "I'm sorry," she repeated, "but I mean - you two really DID have it coming... I mean..." She nudged Trastion, looking for agreement. "They were acting pretty thug-like, right?"

Giving Elmir a pointed look, she slanted her head. "And youuuuuu - you really need to clean up your talk with women," she advised openly. "You'll never find a girl with a mouth like that!"

[Pele Alarion]

Cadil
Third Week of August

"Let's hear another story, no matter who tells it," Cadil threw out an invitation, and found that Kaylin declined, Trastion seemed to think, and Cael looked as if she might be ready to tell. He looked expectantly from one to another to see who would venture to rise to the challenge.

Yet, soon after the storytelling seemed to give way to making new stories happen. Kaylin wandered off to speak with other four men who had come in, and for some reason Trastion rushed to pull her away so quickly that he fell, stool and all. "Hey, what's the..." he began, turning properly to watch the scene as it unfolded. For a while it appeared just like a usual meeting of people who had met somewhere else before randomly, but then the whole matter deteriorated rather quickly.

For a good while, Cadil simply watched, a frown forming on his brow and deepening as he realised the matters might get bad. Silently he appraised each of the four guys in turn wondering if he could take on any of them and not end up into the position of being used as a mop to clean up floors. Eventually, he could no longer keep calm, even when Kaylin just laughed off the matter, and so he stood, pulled in his stomach and squared his shoulders to make himself look bigger.

"Mind what you speak!" he challenged Elmir, whose words he disliked the most, and unwittingly added more oil to the fire instead of quenching it. Despite all his attempts at sipping the ale slowly, it might have affected his usual laid back attitude, and he would have no one threaten his friends in his presence, if he could help it. "If you but put a finger on her, I'll plant this tankard in your eye and make you see fireworks! Suppose your mama has not taught you how to treat a lady properly, eh?"

[Arnyn]

@Rillewen @Isolde Alarion @Pele Alarion

Kaylin
Third week of August

Catching Cadil's words, Kaylin let out an impressed whistle. "Look," she told Elmir seriously, "I know my friend here. When he talks like this, he means business. And he has soldier training." Looking Elmir up and down, she raised an eyebrow. "Burly muscle man or not, if you haven't had any training like that... you might want to think twice."

Her amused expression grew into an all-out grin. "Besides..." She put a hand on Trastion's shoulder. "My little brother here - he's a Ranger. So is our own burly muscle man," she said casually, indicating Mourgan with a nod. "And so am I," she declared confidently, although she knew all too well she wouldn't be able to put up a decent fight in her current condition.

"Four of you..." She looked them up and down, as if she almost felt sorry for them, "against four of us; and we've all had soldier training, ranger training or a combination of both." She drew in a deep breath, and shrugged. "I'd back off if I were you lot."

Three of the four guys, those who'd stood and approachen them with varying degrees of hostility, seemed to be weighing their options. The fourth man, still sitting at the table, rubbed his stubble. "Rangers?" he questioned, eying Kaylin and Trastion doubtfully. "You two?"
Elmir almost snarled. "There's no way. Rangers wouldn't be out buying the stuff you two wanted."

Kaylin laughed. "Why on earth not? You think none of the Rangers drink? You think none of them have it hard? You think none of them enjoy the fun of it?" She rolled her eyes, though still in good humor, which was a testament to her drunken state given the circumstances. "Come on," she laughed. "On a good day, I could probably take all four of you!" It was a bit unclear whether she was now referring to a fight or drinking.

[Isolde Alarion]

Mourgan

Third week of August

Despite the fact Trastion looked like he couldn't think of a suitable story to tell for his drink it was alright with him and let it be as he reached for another ale that Alf had put on the counter. He just about to partake of his drink when Kaylin started talking to some men that had just taken a seat at a not far table. When Trastion looked at him to seem to ask if he knew them, he paused in his drink and lightly shook his head. He'd never seen them before.

He slowly sipped at his drink as Kaylin started talking and asking who they were. He was getting a bad feeling about this. Trastion started to step closer but the poor guy seemed to trip and took the stool with him. Mourgan stopped the drink he was about to take and reached over to assist his friend, but it seemed he needed no help and he went back to watching the scene before him, that was until one of the men pushed Trastion in the chest as he seemed to recognize him.

His mug of ale froze in its track and his brown eyes narrowed on the man as his fingers tightened around the handle of the mug. No, you didn't just push his friend! He straightened up from the counter to his full 6'3" and he stepped up behind Traistion as the large, muscled guy seemed to recognize Trastion and told him he owed him a broken nose. He could feel his fist tightening beside him, if he even looked like he was going to swing for Trastion he would have another thing coming. He placed a hand on Trastions shoulder and gently guided him to step behind him as he came to stand before the muscled man, nearly meeting him eye to eye. "Keep your hand off my friend here or you'll be picking your nose with a different finger." His voice was cold and deep and held a promise to his words, not an empty threat.

It was then that Cadil joined them and added his own opinion on Elmirs language to Kaylin. Now it was 4 against 4 as Kaylin pointed out. He wasn't sure if she was trying to defuse the situation or encouraging them, but he was inwardly hoping they would take her up on the fight because he was looking forward to teaching this man a lesson.

[Rillewen]

@Arnyn @Isolde Alarion @Pele Alarion

Recruit Trastion Leithor
Third Week of August

The situation was definitely going downhill, and Kaylin was not exactly helping by laughing at the guy when she finally remembered who they were and why they felt they had reasons to be upset. But they really had had it coming, as Kaylin said. As she nearly fell down, Trastion did his best to hold her up, but he was a little worried. If she couldn't even stand up on her own... well, he definitely couldn't try to fight these guys while holding her up, right?

Thankfully, Mourgan and Cadil both jumped to their defense. Trastion was inwardly relieved, especially when Mourgan moved to step in front of him, but he kept his expression the same as he stared back at the three guys who were glaring at them. Still, as Kaylin started giggling again, Trastion couldn't help but start to snicker as well. Her amusement was a little contagious, but what Mourgan said was just so humorous. So was Cadil's threat, for that matter.

Remembering he was supposed to be acting drunk, Trastion realized he might as well copy a bit of how Kaylin was acting... He grinned as the four thugs looked around, briefly uncertain as the odds became more even, but they also still looked quite annoyed. As Kaylin informed them that she could take on all four of them on a good day, Trastion couldn't help laughing a little more. "You know... funny thing is, Sis is actually exaggerating just a bit on that..." He snickered. "I'm actually only a recruit. And yet.. I still managed to deal with two of you. Singlehandedly." He motioned toward the one guy's crooked nose, amused. "Remember?" He grinned.

"Oh, I'll never forget you" The crooked-nosed guy scoffed with a glare at Trastion, but eyed Mourgan as he came up to stand in front of the other two. "You keep out of this, it don't concern you." He scowled and pointed to Trastion. "You and I have a debt to settle." He declared ominously.

"You really should'na made an enemy of Dalloran," One of the others smirked.

Though inwardly, he was a little nervous, Trastion tried to stick to his act. He kept the amused look on his face as he shook his head. "Wow. You're really determined to take another beating, aren't you?" He asked with a grin, and casually rested his arm on Mourgan's nearest shoulder. Lowering his voice to a stage whisper, (as if he was too drunk to realize he wasn't properly whispering) he leaned a bit toward Mourgan as he spoke, "These're those really dumb thugs I told you about..." He had told Mourgan a little bit about the adventure to find the replacement liquor for him, although not everything.

He and Kaylin had agreed on certain parts of that adventure they wouldn't tell anyone about, but he had told what he could to Mourgan to explain how he managed to even get the stuff at all. The thugs had definitely been a big part of that adventure, so naturally, they had made an appearance in the retelling. Trastion had been especially amused by how he'd managed to avoid taking any blows to himself while simultaneously starting up a fight among the whole barroom, while he slipped out to rejoin Kaylin. So, of course, that part had definitely been included in the parts he'd told Mourgan.

"Actually, the one getting a beating will be you!" Dalloran replied with his eyes narrowed angrily. His buddy had got up from the table by now and came over to join him, indicating he intended to back up his friends. Clearly, neither were very intimidated by Mourgan, as both were fairly close to the same size as him, and used to being in fights, considering their jobs as bouncers for that secret pub.

[Arnyn]

@Rillewen @Isolde Alarion @Pele Alarion

Kaylin
Third week of August

It was satisfying to see Mourgan stepping off his stool to stand by them as well. Or rather, in front of them. Kaylin was smiling at that - surely the four thugs wouldn't be dumb enough to start anything now!? Mourgan's chosen threat, though, had her succumbing to a fit of the giggles as her brain conjured a very vivid image of Elmir, Balthor, Dalloran and Corgil all wearing dumb looks on their faces and picking their noses.

Through the drunken haze in her mind, Kaylin was more of less still trying to assess the siatuation. It was almost second nature to her by now. Mourgan was threatening Elmir. Balthor was still glaring daggers at her. Dalloran clearly had his mind set on giving Trastion a broken nose - or worse. Corgil had just come to stand next to Dalloran. The eight of them were all standing really closely together.

Kaylin looked at Trastion with some disbelief when he loudly declared he was only a recruit. She nudged him with her arm, feeling a bit defiant all of a sudden. "Come on, Tras! We were just starting to maybe scare them off a little, y'know?" She rolled her eyes emphatically and pointed at Trastion with her thumb, looking at Balthor. "Can you believe this guy?" she asked Balthor, as if he were a friend instead of someone intent on hurting her back for the damage she'd done to his knee weeks earlier. Had it been her imagination, or did he still favor the other leg? It would make sense if he did...

"Looooook, gentlemeeeeeeen," she began, raising her hands up. "This is a nice place and all." She gestured over to the bar, where Alf was staring at their group with a mixture of emotions on his face. Disbelief, concern, outrage - and Kaylin was probably missing a few. "Don't start a fight, okay? The innkeepers don't deserve our um.. beef... to cause them any damage, am I right?"

"Right you are." Balthor, who was closest to her and therefore occupied most of her attention, glared down at her and reached next to Mourgan - who was standing squarely in front of Elmir, so it wasn't too hard - to grab Kaylin roughly by the arm. Without pause, he started dragging her to the door. Kaylin didn't put up a fight. Outside was much better than inside. She didn't want Alfric or Hildy to get upset at her for being part of a fight that would end up costing them extra work and extra coin to clean up and replace anything that got broken. Her lack of proper balance, though, caused her to stumble along rather than walk along, especially at first. She had to scramble a bit to match her pace to Balthor's. "I'm okay, I'm okay -" she called back to her friends. "I can take him!" Not that this was looking very believable at the moment.

Elmir gave Mourgan an ominous smile. "Look, buddy. We're gonna join our friend and the redhead outside. I've been itching to dish out some payback for the time we spent in the dungeons. Either the redhead can take it, or you can. Your choice." The man grinned dirtily as he followed Balthor out of the door.

Dalloran meanwhile blocked Trastion's way to the door, in case he'd been thinking of following the others outside. "Your business is with me, kid. We can stay here or we can take it out there - but muscle boy isn't going to get in the way of that. You hear? Now. Are we gonna stay in? Or go out?"

Corgil shoved both Mourgan and Cadil. "Let's go outside, ey! More room to kick your asses." He raised an eyebrow at Cadil. "Hard to believe you were a soldier. If it was true, it surely was a long time ago." He clearly wasn't worried about Cadil. "But you... you can entertain me for a bit, until the others are done... Do you need any bait?" Corgil laughed, and grabbed Cadil by the collar, also starting to drag the man toward the door.

[Rillewen]

@Arnyn @Isolde Alarion @Pele Alarion

Recruit Trastion Leithor
Third Week of August

"There's nothing about any of these guys to suggest they might be gentlemen," Trastion mentioned with a scowl, after Kaylin's failed attempt at convincing them to back off for the sake of not causing trouble here. He wasn't entirely sure what he meant to accomplish by what he'd said a moment ago, however. Taunting them, really? He realized belatedly that it wasn't the best idea. But it was too late now. The situation swiftly declined further, and he was alarmed when Balthor suddenly snatched Kaylin from beside him. Though his attention had been focused on Dalloran, he felt it the moment Kaylin was no longer leaning on him. He'd had an arm around her to support her, and tried hastily to catch her arm or something, but the other man had yanked her away too quickly.

This situation was turning bad, very quickly. "Hey! Let go of her!" Trastion objected, in a mix of alarm and anger. Though Kaylin called back to assure them that she was fine and that she could take them, Trastion wasn't so sure. When she'd first come into the inn, he was sure that would have been true. But he'd lost track now of how many drinks she'd had, and she seemed like she couldn't even walk. How would she fight, like that? While some part of his mind whispered that she might be just acting, so as to surprise them once they'd underestimated her, the rest was screaming that she might NOT be acting, and she might need help.

He started to take off after her, determined not to let them harm her, but suddenly found his way blocked by broken-nose guy, Dalloran. "Get out of my way!" Trastion growled with a sudden flash of temper. He quickly thought of the many times he used to get into fights with his stepbrother. He'd usually won against him, but... well, this guy was clearly bigger and stronger than Trastion. He didn't really care, though. Suddenly, with Kaylin possibly in danger, the size of the guy didn't matter as much. And, he also wasn't quite so interested in keeping up the image of being drunk. As he demanded for the guy to move, Trastion shoved him as well. If it had been Togg, he would have stumbled back several steps, maybe fallen down even. This guy hardly budged, which made Trastion feel like he probably looked like some little kid trying to beat up a seasoned knight.

Dalloran grinned unpleasantly as the kid made the first move. Standing firmly in place, the shove didn't move him, but he quickly caught Trastion by the collar and gave a strong shove, flinging him toward the table that the four guys had recently abandoned. Amused, Dalloran watched Trastion stumble across the floor and crash into two of the chairs and the edge of the table before continuing to fall to the floor. Assuming he wasn't going to get up right away, the man then turned to check whether he needed to deal with Mourgan, or if the group's own 'big burly man' had gone out to help the lady. If Mourgan was still there, Dalloran would be wide open for whatever punch Mourgan might throw at him...

[Arnyn]

@Rillewen @Isolde Alarion @Pele Alarion

Kaylin
Third week of August

She heard Trastion's objections, but was mostly focused on Balthor and the tight grip he had on her arm. Think, Kaylin, think. She stopped cooperating once they were out of the door, because she had no intentions of being dragged off to some alley. "Let go of me," she yelled, her earlier cheerfulness having disappeared entirely. In addition, the moment she'd stepped outside a wave of nausea hit her. Ugh, no... why now?

"Not a chance," Balthor rumbled, and turned her toward him to grab her other arm. She tried to shake herself loose, but couldn't - he was far too strong. Other measures then. Planting her feet firmly and kind of grateful he was holding onto her with both arms (that way, she wouldn't fall), she lifted her knee up to hit him hard between the legs. Even as Balthor's grip on her slackened and he doubled over, and grabbed at his crotch, she could feel a large hand closing around her throat from behind her.

"I remember that move," Elmir growled into her ear as he quickly worked to push her against a brick wall. "Won't work on me again, darling."

Mentally, she swore, but suddenly being so nauseated was making it even harder for her to think. Kaylin barely managed to turn herself around in Elmir's grip, so she could at least face him. She had no idea of how to get out of a choke hold if the front of her body were to get pressed against the wall. If he'd really been trying to choke her, she knew, she'd have lost consciousness already. He didn't mean for that to happen. He meant for her to be aware of whatever he was planning. Given that her thoughts were slowed and she almost had to fight through a haze to think clearly, she couldn't step out of and away from his choke hold as she would have done otherwise. But at least she had the presence of mind to bend her head forward, so it wouldn't smash against the wall when her body made rough contact with the stone. Her head was still swimming, but not from the impact. "Was it... that bad?" she asked, trying to distract him a little.

"It was," he growled, pointing at her face with his free hand. "And you'll pay for that!" His free arm pulled back, ready to hit her. Kaylin panicked and grabbed his arm with both hands. At least he couldn't punch her, now, but the hold of his other hand on her neck was tightening. She choked out a sound as she let go of his arm and he grinned broadly at her. Behind him, Balthor was slowly recovering, and he cursed at her. The flattering compliments had quite evaporated. Her heart was beating fast in her chest - she could feel the beat strongly in her throat where Elmir was gripping her. She needed to do something, now. Her stomach seemed to turn.

Kaylin grunted and struck out with the heel of her hand at Elmir's chin. The next moment her knee was between his legs and his head came down again in automatic response. Ready to laugh and taunt him, especially after he'd said the move wouldn't work on him again, while it just had - Kaylin opened her mouth. The timing was terrible, really. The nausea hit her hard. Instead of laughter, a large part of the drinks came rushing back out. Partially over the stones of the pavement... and partially over the top and back of Elmir's head.

For a moment, there was absolute silence, as the three of them processed what was happening. Kaylin was still recovering from having emptied her stomach, one hand soothing her throat, the other braced against the wall for support. Elmir was still bent forward, in a blend of pain and disgust. He let loose a string of curses in anger. Kaylin backed away, looking for the best escape route. The nausea had at least abated, but she was still slower both physically and mentally. She couldn't take the two of them like this. And she didn't believe it was possible to piss them off any more than she'd already had.

Balthor had straightened, but was looking at Elmir with repressed laughter and disgust on his face. He's seen the whole thing happening and it had been impossible not to appreciate the comedy. But when he saw Kaylin backing away, he clacked his tongue. "Not so fast, red. I'm gonna return all of the pain you've given me," he said in a low voice.

Her options weren't exactly great. She had one escape route - but it went right past the man looking to hurt her. Besides, that would mean abandoning Trastion, Cadil and Mourgan - which she wasn't intent on. Her other choice was the back door into the kitchens of the inn. And bursting through there would almost definitely result in damages if these two were going to follow.

[Pele Alarion]

Cadil
Third Week of August

Cadil couldn't help but chuckle at Mourgan's comment even though he could see that there was a serious threat behind it, and he had all means to carry it out. Once more he assessed the opponents - well, even if the fight might be more or less equal. Who knew what trouble Kaylin and Trastion had brewed with this lot anyway...

Meanwhile things ended up deteriorating really fast, though Cadil had to admit that involvement by him and Cadil surely had not helped to settle the matters. Went out one of the guys, half dragging Kaylin with him, with the other guy he had threatened in tow. The other aimed for Trastion. He was about to turn to discuss the issue with Mourgan and already opened his mouth, when he was faced with Corgil.

"You know what," he said, snatching up his tankard and taking a sip. "Might not look fit, but..."

There was no time to continue his speech, as Corgil first shoved him and then grabbed by the collar. He went along a few steps, and then mumbled: "Did not promise this to you, but hey..."

He rapidly moved the tankard in his hand up, aiming to splash whatever contents were in it at the opponent's face, though more likely than not would get some of it himself. And then aimed to slam now empty drinking vessel into Corgil's face.

"Out we can go, if you want," he proclaimed right after, and tried to rid himself from the grip on his collar so he could walk out proudly and not be dragged as if he was some mischievous school boy caught in the act by a stern teacher.

[Arnyn]

@Pele Alarion
Corgil

"Aaarghh!" he let out as ale slushed into his face and down his shoulder and arm. He much preferred to drink the stuff than have it poured over him! The tankard hitting him in the side of the face completely took him off guard. He let go almost automatically, reaching for his jaw and teeth. His jaw was jarred and the flesh of his cheek had painfully slammed into his teeth. He could taste blood.

"You'll pay for this!" he bellowed as he followed Cadil out, catching up to him right after he left the inn. Corgil aimed a heavy strike at Cadil's lower back. A little off to the side - right where his kidney should be...


Balthor

When the door to the inn opened, he saw the redhead glancing at it. "Cadil!" she shouted, happy to see him unharmed, no doubt. Balthor growled and looked over to the door as well, to see that Cadil was followed by Corgil. "He'll have his hands full, love," he grinned at Kaylin. "But you'd best worry about yourself."

She was putting up a brave face, to be sure. He'd admit that much. It was so obvious that she was drunk off her ass. She could hardly walk straight. Yet she stepped away from the wall and fell into a fighting position. "Brave girl," Balthor rumbled. "Won't do you much good, though." He glanced at Elmir, who was slowly straightening, but still utterly disgusted by the puke in his hair - it ran all over him as he straightened. "You're no good like this." That last bit could be applied to both Elmir and Kaylin at the moment - but Elmir would recover soon enough, and Kaylin would need much more time to sober up and present a real threat to the two of them.

Mentally, Kaylin cursed. She knew he was right. But outwardly, she refused to look defeated for even the slightest bit. "I'm not worried!" she bit back.

When Balthor moved in toward her, she evaded his first attack and managed to punch him roughly on the nose. She heard a sickening crack, and the man cried out in pain. She tried to move past him, toward her escape route. Perhaps she could take Cadil with her and they could just escape with a good run... and then Mourgan and Tras only had two others to deal with, right? They could manage that...

But Elmir cut off her escape, a dark look on his face, and Balthor soon grabbed her from behind. Another choke hold? Are you kidding me?
"Don't get too close," Balthor warned his friend. "She's still.. somewhat dangerous." Kaylin could hear the grin through his words.
Elmir narrowed his eyes. "Take her around the back. Too many eyes out here."

She thrashed against the grip on her neck, but she couldn't reach Balthor behind her, not with her arms - and he kept her legs at bay with his other arm. Unfortunately, the man was strong enough to keep a grip on her with one arm. As they moved her, she fumbled with one of her hidden knives, but the combination of fear - a rare emotion in her case - and alcohol made it slip from her shaking fingers. Balthor laughed. "Grab it," he told Elmir as he rounded the corner. "We can do some work on her."

"Get off me!" she yelled, managing not to sound panicked, though it wasn't exactly as loud as she would have hoped for. Soon, she wasn't able to say much of anything. Her vision was starting to go white. But whether it was from the white stone she was shoved against, or her airway being cut off, she couldn't tell.

[Karis Ziranphel]

Thûllir Bregedŷr
Third Week of August
Approaching the Wayfarer’s Inn

The rains of the day before had left the obstacle course at the training grounds slick and slightly dangerous. So of course Thûllir had made himself go through it over and over again until he stopped making mistakes even with the slippery conditions. He hadn’t carried his archery equipment or sword this time, but was otherwise properly attired in his leather jerkin over gray shirt and black trousers, with the usual dagger at his belt and blades at wrists and boot-tops.
It had taken some doing to clean his gear afterwards, and he was a bit sore from the occasional tumbles he had taken, so he aimed himself towards his favorite inn for a break and a hot drink before climbing the levels back home. Hildy often still had his favorite rolls left in the afternoon that would be gone by dinnertime, and he knew Kaylin also stopped in on occasion, although her refreshment preference was different.

There was some sort of commotion going on near Wayfarer’s, Thûllir noticed as he drew closer. He heard raised voices, and there were several figures outside and two that came tumbling out the door. He couldn’t make out what they were saying, but then he heard Kaylin’s voice yell Cadil’s name.
The flash of red hair caught his eye as Kaylin pushed herself away from the wall and dropped into a weaving fighter’s stance. Thûllir’s eyes narrowed and his pace unconsciously picked up from his earlier casual stroll. It looked like she was facing two? It didn’t entirely surprise him that his wife was involved in a fight. She had a temper and luck at games, and a breezy attitude that could set people off, but something didn’t look right about this situation. Kaylin could normally hold her own so well that he frequently just observed. She could handle two guys…but she wasn’t moving with her usual grace and sure movements.

He was still half a street away when the fight continued with Kaylin attacking the big guy with a solid punch. But then her escape was blocked and it all went wrong. Thûllir lengthened his stride as she got wrapped in the choke hold and then was wrestled toward the corner of the building to turn into the alley around back. She was flailing instead of using moves she was proficient at…he saw the flash of a knife as one of her hidden blades appeared, and his heart leaped and then fell as it dropped to be picked up by the second man as they dragged her around the corner. Her yell, “Get off me!”, had his heart stumbling.

Fatigue fell away as Thûllir stopped being polite and turned his fast walk into a silent sprint towards the corner where the three figures had disappeared. Hyper focus had him brushing past other pedestrians and sidestepping carts without breaking stride. His soft boots barely made more than a slight tap as he sped over the stones. Normally he would have paused at the corner, but the situation made him reckless enough to change directions at speed as he tried to keep his breathing quiet despite the sharp need for more air from running.
He assessed the scene in one glance. The man closest to him was facing away, following the burlier one dragging Kaylin by the neck, and Kaylin was looking more limp than he ever wanted to register. Slime covered the man’s hair and upper back, so instead of aiming at his head, Thûllir grabbed his upper arms as he brought his knee up sharply into the man's kidney area - hard, and then let go with a shove as he passed by. The move might have broken the man’s spine if the strike was landed wrong, but Thûllir couldn’t find it in himself to care or check as he passed by. If he was able to move, Thûllir would deal with it later. His priority was Kaylin.

The burly man had shoved Kaylin’s face against the white stone of the building and crowded her from behind. Thûllir registered a glimpse of the sneer on the man’s face mixed with blood from a mangled nose as it was bent to snarl in Kaylin’s face, before his left hand seized on the man’s collar and the full force of his fury transferred through his right fist as it plowed into the man’s cheekbone with a grunt. He had been silent until this point, when his voice finally emerged harsh and deadly in the fury simmering under the surface as he cocked his fist back again and twisted the collar tight. “Let. Her. Go.”

[Arnyn]

@Rillewen @Isolde Alarion @Pele Alarion @Karis Ziranphel

Balthor

Getting payback on the womanhad been Balthor's preference anyway, and he knew it was Elmir's also. Elmir was always more vocal about it, but there was a reason the two got along as they did. Underneath, they were the same. The others could deal with the guys. Despite his bloody and broken nose, Balthor almost laughed as he shoved the redhead against the wall. Oh, he was going to enjoy this.

Pushing himself against her from behind, he was about to tell her what he was planning to do to her - when a hand gripped his collar and he heard the sound of retching coming from behind him. Was Elmir throwi-- His vision exploded in black and white stars as something hard - so hard - thundered onto his cheekbone. He let out an involuntary sound of pain and would have stepped or stumbled away from the direction of the hit, if it hadn't been for that iron grip on his collar keeping him in place. His own grip on the redhead's neck loosened.

"Let. Her. Go."

What!? Not another one of these rangers! Balthor's mind screamed at him as his blurry eyes took in the man who'd just cracked that punch into the side of his face. Did these do-gooders sprout from between the stones of the pavement or something? This couldn't just be a concerned citizen... Or could it?

Balthor used his anger from his embarrassment by the pup and his sister, from the injury to his right knee, from being locked up for a week - to fight through the pain. But he couldn't maintain his grip on Kaylin. And dropped her. "She's mine," he growled dangerously, grabbing a hold of Thûllir in return and reading his large hand to catch the other man's fist. Balthor was bigger. He was stronger. But before anything else could happen, Balthor's mouth opened wide in a soundless cry of pain, and his left leg gave way before he had the presence of mind to shift his weight.

Kaylin
Third week of August

She wasn't registering much, if anything. Until the tight grip on her throat slackened. Kaylin immediately drew in a deep breath of much-needed air. The palms of her hands pushed flat against the wall, seeking support, not wishing to fall to the ground. If they got her on the ground and they pinned her... there was no telling what might happen. All of a sudden her throat was freed. Balthor's grip had been holding more of her weight up than she'd realized, because the unexpected release made her slump down to her knees. Her heartbeat was still thumping hard in her throat. One hand went to her neck, the skin there red and tender.

Her vision was slowly improving, but even as one problem seemed to subside she was gaining another. Her head was starting to pound on one side. She groaned, and dimly registered four legs right next to her instead of two. She had no idea of what was going on. But the only idea she got was that Elmir had recovered and they were probably discussing how to best get back at her. Kaylin's stomach turned. Underestimating her like this was yet another mistake of theirs - albeit one she was grateful for. Gritting her teeth, she ignored the pain and drew forth another hidden blade with her right hand. She grabbed onto the nearest leg - Balthor's - with her left. And unceremoniously plunged the knife into his knee, while she loudly cursed him. Whatever hits she could get in, she would, damn it! She wasn't going to make it easy for them. And the longer she could stall them, the better her odds. The others had to come out sometime... Mourgan would look after Tras... She at least was distracting these two from Cadil... Her head pounded harder as she twisted the knife brutally. Balthor's leg buckled. Part of his weight threatened to crash down toward her. She didn't care. He was going to give her pain, he had said. Even if that was true, Kaylin was determined to make it a two-way street.

Corgil

After his strike at Cadil - regardless of how it had landed - he'd seen the mad dash of the stranger in persuit of his buddies with the woman. Something about the way the man moved had made Corgil push Cadil out of the way roughly. He wanted to pay the man back for bashing that tankard into his face, for sure, but instinct or curiosity - or both - urged him to follow the stranger. It wasn't like Corgil had the time to analyse the feeling.

He rounded the corner and saw Elmir sitting on his hands and knees, throwing up. Balthor was only half upright, grabbing as well as being grabbed by an unknown man. Balthor's face looked a bloody mess. He was in trouble.

Moving without words, Corgil used the fact his buddy was still holding onto the stranger. With all his might probbaly too, knowing Balthor. That was convenient, for it would block a lot of the stranger's options. As quietly as he could, he rushed up behind the man to give him a savage kick to the back of the knee, so his legs would buckle from under him, and he bent down to grab the woman by her long hair, to yank and drag her toward him and away from Balthor and the stranger.

[Karis Ziranphel]

Thûllir Bregedŷr
Third Week of August
Behind the Wayfarer’s Inn

Later he would admit to himself that the sound of pain the man had made was satisfying, and worth the bruised knuckles, but Thûllir was intently focused on what was going on. He had accomplished his initial purpose, as the man’s grip seemed to have loosened. It was with relief that he registered Kaylin slip from his fingers, even though it meant that the man turned to grab at him instead with words of possessive nonsense that increased Thûllir’s ire. “No!” was his terse reply. Thûllir started to step back and turn to bring the two of them away from Kaylin and the wall when the man cried out and began to drop. Rather than replying further, Thûllir pulled on the collar in his fist and grabbed the man’s arm to forcefully assist him to the ground to his own right with a twisting motion.

Running footsteps came up behind him and a blow struck the back of his knee to collapse it, but that merely hastened the fall of the big man and added Thûllir’s weight to the forceful crash onto the stones of the alley. Thûllir had twisted enough to ensure he landed on top with a judicious use of elbows and knees to catch his fall on the soft tissues of the man’s throat, abdomen, and thigh. Bracing himself against Balthor’s body with one hand, he brought his other up inside the other man’s arm and wrapped around to twist it and force his grip loose the rest of the way. Shoving off of the man and spinning to give himself clearance and see who had attacked him, Thûllir saw that a third man had arrived and had grabbed Kaylin’s hair to drag her away!

Outrage flashed through him at the continued indignity these thugs were attempting to subject her to, and he practically growled. “Get your filthy hands off my wife!” He couldn’t let the man take her, especially like that. Dropping low, he spun again with force to do a spinning sweep kick to take out the man’s legs and knock him to the ground, ending with Thûllir in a fighting crouch with his hands up as he gauged how successful the attack had been.

[Pele Alarion]

Cadil
Third Week of August

It was little wonder that Corgil came after him as an angry bull, and even when Cadil should have been wary of the guy following him with such a fury after what he had done, he was not completely ready. Hearing his opponent come up, he was about to turn and face him for a proper face-off, but was stopped half-way with the man's heavy fist striking right under his ribs on his left side. The onslaught of pain incapacitated Cadil, and as the man pushed him, he somehow stumbled back against the wall and fought to breathe through the pain.

He had not seen how Kaylin was taken around the corner, yet her voice and Corgil's swift departure in that direction set off alarm in Cadil's mind even through the mist of pain. He quickly calculated that the situation would leave Kaylin alone with the three big guys. Now, that could not be allowed!

"I'm coming!" he meant to call loudly but it came out sounding like a croak of a frog that had caught a cold. Pushing off the wall with his shoulder and holding his side, Cadil forced himself to move after Corgil. When he finally rounded the corner, he assessed the situation and found that Thûllir had joined the skirmish and appeared to dish out due punishment to all three men. His eyes wide in amazement, Cadil took the moment to attempt standing up straight instead of slightly bent over, meaning to lend a helping hand, or boot, where necessary.

[Isolde Alarion]

Mouurgan

Third week in August

@Rillewen @Arnyn @Pele Alarion @Karis Ziranphel

Things seemed to be moving faster now and getting worse. Mourgan stared into the bloodshot eyes of Dalloran as he continued to stand up to him but then Kaylin was grabbed and taken outside and Cadil also was being taken outside meanwhile Trastion was still being threatened by the man in front of Mourgan. Suddenly Trastion tried to get past Dalloran but was shoved back into the table they'd just left. "I told you to keep your hands off him." It was the only warning he got as Mourgan pulled back his arm holding the mug and swung it at his face.

Mourgan slammed the tankard into Dallorans face, his nose specifically. As the man reached for his face, blood exploding from his nose, Mourgan pulled back and swung for his exposed jaw. It connected but Mourgan didn't back down and moved with him as the other guy staggered backwards. He snatched his hand, the same one he'd poked at Trastion with, and as promised he grabbed the offending finger and bent it back to the point Mourgan could feel the joints popping and giving way as Dalloran screamed in pain.

Over his shoulder, Mourgan instructed Trastion. "Go check on Kaylin!"

"We're taking this outside." He instructed Dalloran as he used his bent finger as a pressure point to guide the man backwards towards the door of the pub. Once clear of the door Mourgan once more punched him in his bleeding nose and released him to let him fall backwards into the street.

[Rillewen]

@Arnyn @Isolde Alarion @Pele Alarion @Karis Ziranphel

Recruit Trastion Leithor
Third Week of August

For the third time since walking into the Wayfarer's inn, Trastion found himself on the floor. Though, this particular occasion was more painful than the last two. Hopefully, it would be the last time, since it seemed to get more painful with each time he ended up on the floor.

He'd hit his shoulder on the edge of the table before crashing against a chair on the way down. The chair then fell over, with Trastion's middle landing forcefully against the corner edge of the seat, knocking the air out of him. Groaning in pain, he continued to collapse down the rest of the way to the floor, hitting his back against the leg of the table behind him. Wincing, he struggled to draw a breath, and found it very painful. It reminded him of the time his stepbrother 'accidentally' jabbed a knee up into his gut, and really hoped this pain would fade faster than he remembered from that occasion.

If he'd been alone, Trastion knew he would be in a lot of trouble right now. In fact, the previous time he'd encountered Dalloran and Corgil, he'd gotten very lucky. This time, not so much, it seemed. He could hear someone hitting someone else, and really hoped that was Mourgan doing the hitting, not the other way around. It took him a moment to push himself up into a seated position, one hand holding his stomach where the chair had hit him. It felt about like he'd been punched in the stomach, or the area just below the sternum, and each breath was very painful.

The floor seemed wet, and it took a moment for it to dawn on him why. The ale. Both Cadil and Mourgan had attacked one of the thugs with the contents of their mugs, which had caused the stuff to be sloshed all over the place. In fact, while most of Mourgan's drink had hit Dalloran in the face, what had missed him, had splashed across the table. The table which Trastion was lying partially under. The ale was dripping off the edge of it now, and belatedly, Trastion realized that some had gotten on his clothes. Thankfully, he didn't think it had soaked through too much, but it would if he didn't move.

Realizing this with a jolt of alarm, Trastion hastily moved to get further under the table, briefly taking refuge from the 'toxic rainfall'. Sure, getting some of the stuff on him (probably) wouldn't kill him, but it would definitely be very unpleasant. Not to mention that it would be really bad if his skin started to break out somewhere that would be noticeable. And that could prove deadly if word got out about something like that. All the while, he was still struggling just to breathe.

"Go check on Kaylin."

Mourgan's words swiftly reminded Trastion about her. Right! Trying to forget about his own pain, Trastion dragged himself out from under the table, grabbing onto one of the chairs that was still upright, and pulled himself upright using the chair as a support. He found that he couldn't quite stand up straight, as his middle still hurt too much. But a quick glance in Mourgan's direction assured Trastion that his friend could handle this guy on his own. Off to rescue to Kaylin then.. if he could. Thankfully, it was getting a bit less painful to take a breath now, though it still hurt a bit to try and stand straight, and taking a deep breath was out of the question.

This whole thing had turned very bad, very quickly. He felt a rising sense of panic as he emerged outside and saw no sign of Kaylin or the others. Where could they have gone so quickly? Trastion glanced around swiftly, then heard muffled noises of a continued fight from around the corner. He wasn't sure what he intended to do, but figured Kaylin as well as Cadil might be needing some aid, so he moved as fast as he could manage in that direction.

---

Dalloran

He'd really expected the group's own muscle man to go after the girl, like some big hero. He'd hoped he would, so he could give the pup the lesson Dalloran felt he deserved. So, after shoving the kid into the table, he wasn't expecting to find the guy still there. The tankard hit him so hard in the face, it was surprising it didn't shatter. Before he knew what happened, the next blow landed on his jaw, and then it seemed like the guy was going to break his finger off.

As Mourgan pushed him toward the door, keeping his finger bent back painfully, Dalloran tried to find some way to get free the whole way. He tried to kick or strike at Mourgan with his other hand, but nothing worked, and he was ushered out through the door unceremoniously. But along the way, passing some of the tables, he caught sight of a bottle left on one of the tables, and swiftly grabbed it as he passed by. When they finally got out into the street, he could do nothing but fall after taking yet another punch to the nose. Part of him wanting to clutch his face, or hand, and groan in pain and not get back up, but the bigger part was fueled by anger, and he wanted to strike back and hurt the one who had hurt him. Now that his hand was released, he fought past the pain in both hand and face, and quickly rolled to the side and got to his feet swiftly. His right hand was messed up, the finger dislocated, possibly broken. But the left hand was still fine, clutching the bottle. It had gotten broken during his fall, and now he had a good weapon.

Despite all the blood that now seemed to be pouring down his face from his nose (which would surely never heal right), Dalloran glared at Mourgan. With his left hand, he swung toward his makeshift weapon quickly at Mourgan, several times in an attempt to slash or cut him anywhere that he could. He was in too much pain at the moment to talk.

[Arnyn]

Kaylin
Third week of August

The sudden pull on her hair made her grunt and then complain loudly. "Aaauw!" Kaylin growled and yanked her knife out of Balthor's knee. Despite the pain from her hair pulled yanked so hard, she still felt a perverse kind of satisfaction at the damage she'd done to the man's knee. His clothes hid it visually, but she knew how bad it would be. Served him right. The pull forced her to the side and her eyes finally caught sight of an all too familiar figure as the figure growled. ... filthy hands off my wife!" she registered. Oh.

Oh no. Thûllir. Kaylin's mouth opened. Thûllir... He shouldn't be seeing this. He should never ever have seen this. Her being attacked was one thing - but her being so wasted that she couldn't properly defend herself anymore... No. No, no, no, no...

She had no idea of Cadil and Trastion's arrival, too taken aback, her brain too fuzzy to keep track of everything that was happening.

Suddenly Thûllir dropped low and kicked at the legs of whoever was starting to drag her away. Pushing away the shock of Thûllir being present to see her like this, like some stupid damsel in distress, Kaylin got angry again just as her head was forced against the stones of the street. Thûllir had kicked the man's legs from under him alright. And he'd fallen forward, putting his hands down on the pavement to protect his own face. Her hair was wrapped around and caught between his fingers though, and her head went along with it. Kaylin groaned - a good sign at least, that she hadn't lost consciousness. "What the..." She groaned again, the anger flaring as her free hand reached for the guy's arm. Once she grabbed it, she flashed her knife down at his hand, the one where her hair was still caught up in. She cursed him as she stabbed down hard. She could hear the tip hitting the stone beneath, and she half groaned half growled an extremely rude insult at him. She yanked the knife out again and slashed at his arm.

[Pele Alarion]

Cadil
Third Week of August

Cadil simply stared at what seemed to be a tangle of people, trying to figure out what useful action he could do here. He then became slightly aware of another approaching from behind him, and with a brief look over his shoulder he ascertained it was Trastion.

"What a mess," he said.

Eventually, deciding upon some course of action, Cadil moved forward. He did not like how the guy who had pulled Kaylin away came down almost on her and made her hit her head against the ground; besides, it looked to him like there was a flash of a knife, and he was not sure who was stabbing whom.

"Get away from her, you were told!" he reminded Corgil and grabbed him by the collar to try and pull him aside. "A pity you don't have enough hair on that empty head of yours or I'll tear it all out!" He hoped that being behind the man would give him an opportunity to avoid the knife, if it was he wielding the weapon.

[Karis Ziranphel]

Thûllir Bregedŷr
Third Week of August
Behind the Wayfarer’s Inn

The man went flying in an almost comical fashion that Thûllir didn’t completely appreciate quite yet, although he noted with satisfaction that the man landed hard. However it coincided with a groan from Kaylin that had him both relieved and wincing internally. She was alive and coherent, but the abrupt drop hadn’t helped. Her reactions were swift in stabbing her knife through the man’s hand with a bevy of curses, and Thûllir thought better of approaching at the man’s high pitched scream of pain. She was back in the fight.

Hearing movement and voices behind him, Thûllir turned in a ready position for another assault, only to see a familiar faced man stroll up and start scolding the downed man as he grabbed his collar from behind and drug him away from Kaylin. Cadil, his brain finally supplied to the former soldier, and Thûllir gave a light snort of amused frustration. Now that the man was at least somewhat restrained while having his arm fileted, it just wouldn’t be sporting to kick him again like Thûllir wanted. The desire for further violence burned in him still, but he forced it down. They were still in the city and life was no longer on the line.

Instead, he straightened and turned back to the previous bruiser who had broken his own fall. Still down. Good. He remained aware of Kaylin’s position, but needed to further check the area. A quick glance ascertained that the first was also still retching, and Thûllir’s brows drew together as he motioned the newly appeared Trastion towards the man (Elmir). “Secure that one and make sure he doesn’t do anything.”

All these men, friends of Kaylin, were around and she had been out here alone? He knew events could move quickly, but the thought did not put him in a good mood. Time for cleanup. Reaching for one of his many blades was tempting, but Thûllir preferred to keep both his hands free and ready as he crouched down near Balthor and spoke in a calm voice threaded with promise. “Don’t try anything further, and we’ll think about getting you to the healer for that knee. Do anything else and you may not survive the attempt.” The threat was delivered. The man wouldn’t be going anywhere with that mangled knee, and Thûllir wasn’t intimidated by his size in the least. “Will you go willingly or must I bind or harm you further?” He always had some leather cording in his belt pouch that could be used for restraints in a pinch.

[Isolde Alarion]

Mourgan fighting Dalloran

Third week of August

@Rillewen @Arnyn@Karis Ziranphel @Pele Alarion

Mourgan stepped back and watched Dalloran as he rolled to his side and got to his feet. He glared at Mourgan but it didn't concern him, he glared back. It was pure luck that he saw the glint of something in the mans hand and moved a step back just as the jagged end of a broken bottle swiped at his chest and then tried to cut anywhere, he could get a piece of him.

Mourgan reacted by grabbing his left arm as best he could when the bottle made a wide sweep, two hands gripped the man's wrist and arm while Mourgan rushed into the man with his right shoulder, forcing him back into the wall, hard. He slammed the man's arm into the wall trying to dislodge the broken glass. Finding this wasn't getting the results he wanted it was time to end this. Holding the man's arm with his right he released his left hand and snaked it down to wrap around the man's left leg. He got a good grip and with his shoulder still into his chest he started to lift the guy up and stretch him across his wide shoulders like a side of beef.

Mourgan grit his teeth and with a growl and some effort he raised the man over his head only to throw him to the hard ground. It took effort but it also felt good in a way. He only waited a moment to see if the guy would be stupid enough to get up again. It was only then he noticed the cuts in his new shirt. A quick check told his he'd only received a minor scratch, but he was more upset about his new shirt being ruined!
Through a deep breath he spoke to the man. "You're going to pay for this you know." He motioned to the torn shirt. "Stay down or I'll break your other hand."

[Rillewen]

@Arnyn @Isolde Alarion @Pele Alarion @Karis Ziranphel

Recruit Trastion Leithor
Third Week of August

As he came around the corner, there was a lot to take in. For one, there was an unexpected, but not unwelcome, addition to the fight. He wasn't sure where Thullir had come from, but he was glad someone had been around to help Kaylin, while the rest of them had been detained. He gave a brief nod when Cadil commented 'what a mess'. For Trastion, just breathing was difficult at this point, let alone talking, so instead of replying, he quickly scanning the scene to try and figure out where he could be of assistance, particularly to Kaylin.

One hand still pressed to his diaphragm area that hurt so much, Trastion was still finding it painful to take more than shallow breaths, although he was at least able to stand upright without too much pain. Still, he was moving a little slower than he would have liked. But he was moving. He continued toward the scene, figuring he would surely be able to find some way that he could help. Maybe he could help Kaylin up? Then Thullir made a suggestion, which seemed logical, and Trastion gave another silent little nod to him as he switched plans and headed toward Elmir.

The guy was still on the ground, obviously in much pain. More than Trastion was, it would seem, and Trastion wondered what could have happened to him. His hair and shoulders were covered in something gross.. was that vomit? He wrinkled his nose in disgust. It also smelled horrible. Based on the smell, Trastion had a suspicion that it might have a lot of alcohol mixed in, and therefore, thought it best not to touch it. Even if it hadn't been for the obvious gross factor involved.

Kneeling down by where Elmir was on the ground, Trastion put his knee on his back to help pin him down while reaching for one of his arms. That made Elmir jerk slightly as he yelled out in pain. Trastion looked down at him, a little startled, wondering what sort of injury he must have sustained while Trastion was still inside, not knowing he had just put his knee in the very spot that Thullir had struck with his own knee. Trastion reached and grabbed the man's nearest hand and twisted it behind his back, pinned up behind his shoulder blades, then moved his knee off of Elmir's back once he felt that the guy was contained enough. Concerned about Kaylin, he glanced over to see if she looked alright.

---

Dalloran

He'd fought plenty of guys before, and almost always won those fights. That was why it had been such a blow to his ego to have that young recruit manage to make such a fool of him, before. Dalloran could take a punch, sure, but to have his nose broken by his own buddy, all because the kid outsmarted him with such a stupidly simple maneuver... it didn't sit well with him. Now the one he was really angry with had slipped out, and left Dalloran to fight this other guy, who was close to Dalloran in size and, apparently, in skill.

With Dalloran right hand messed up, he had to resort to whatever means he had left, to try and defeat his opponent. Not knowing where the other three had gone off to, Dalloran was on his own now, and continued attacking Mourgan, until the ranger then slammed him hard into the wall. Before he had a chance to recover from that, the guy actually lifted Dalloran up over his head!

No opponent he'd faced up until now had ever managed to do such a thing. He was usually bigger and stronger than everyone he went up against, and it was a bit of a shock to find himself suspended in the air for a second, before crashing into the ground, hard. He groaned, too stunned at the moment to even think of trying to get up. He glared up at Mourgan, but stayed where he was. Not because he was afraid of his threat, but because he hurt too much to bother.

"I'm not done with your little friend, you know," He grumbled, however. He just couldn't help it, feeling the need to let it be known that he was not considering himself totally defeated. "Next time I see him..." Dalloran didn't bother finishing the threat, because it seemed easiest to leave it open to other's imagination, rather than having to use his, to come up with something.

[Arnyn]

Third week of August
Behind the Wayfarer's Inn

Corgil

The knife pierced through his hand, hitting the pavement beneath. He opened his mouth in a wordless cry of pain. Soon the knife was ripped back out and he felt the hot flash of a cut against his lower arm. What the hell!?!

Then he was yanked to the side by his clothes, the front of his collar biting into his neck as he was pulled away from the redhead. Red hair slipped out of his bleeding hand. "I don't listen to the likes of you, you little ****," he growled at Cadil, heavily insulting the young man and trying to grab Cadil with his unhurt shovel of a hand. But his movements were slower, now. He clearly had not expected his hand getting knifed, nor his arm getting cut, nor Cadil's interference. Just a few minutes ago it had seemed like they couldn't lose this bet. What in the world had gone wrong?!

Balthor

His knee! Not his knee! His other knee, his good knee--!! He moved on the cobblestones, concerned about what this would mean for him.

Thûllir's promise, or rather the ranger's threat, made him still his movements. He was considering his possibilities. "As if you will take me to a healer," he bit back at him. "I'll just end up in the dungeons again." And probably not just for a week this time. "But if I'm going to the guards, I'll tell them all about your wife," Balthor said, grinning bare his bloodied teeth. "I'll tell them all about your wife buying illegal liquor and assuming a fake identity - even if front of the Tower Guard. We'll see what happens to her precious little ranger rank, then, ey?"

Elmir

The new knee in his back made him cry out. He resisted a whimper, not wanting to appear soft in front of this crowd. He didn't resist the kid twisting his arm. It felt like someone was stabbing him in the back with practically every move he was or every move someone else was forcing on him. Most of his energy was focused on not behaving like someone being tortured.

Kaylin

She was still holding the knife in one hand, and soon touching her head where it had hit the cobblestones with the other. She groaned, but the rudeness coming from Corgil's mouth, directed at Cadil, made her expression tighten. She put her hands on the ground to steady herself as she got to her feet, knife still in hand. "Your ass must be dead jealous of all the crap that comes out of your mouth," she growled. "Time to shut it." Kaylin wanted to approach, but felt unsteady.

She put a hand to the wall instead, seeking support. Mentally, she cursed. Her stomach didn't feel as wonky as it had before she'd thrown up part of the booze, but she was definitely still overly inebriated. Not to mention that her head had been pushed against the wall first and then had hit the pavement just after. If she moved, she'd be wobbly. And Thûllir... Well. That would probably get bad, later.

Grateful that she would be able to postpone any emotional stuff, at least until the situation was under control, her eyes assessed the scene. Cadil with Corgil. Trastion with Elmir. Thûllir with Balthor. Then... "Where's Mourgan?" she groaned, although the words may have been too quiet for anyone to hear if they weren't listening for them. Even though her head was screaming at her to just sit down against the wall and get her bearings, Kaylin started walking along the wall, her hand moving against the wall with her as if it were keeping her upright. (Which it was.)
Mourgan had just left the Houses of Healing. He couldn't get hurt now... Kaylin frowned in concern. But Mourgan wouldn't get hurt. Right? He'd pound that thug through the floorboards of the inn before letting a guy like that get the best of him... Still, she needed to make sure. Be sure.

[Rillewen]

@Arnyn @Isolde Alarion @Pele Alarion @Karis Ziranphel

Recruit Trastion Leithor
Third Week of August

Kaylin's question made him look up. Her words had been quietly mumbled, but Trastion caught it anyway, being near enough to catch it. And since he was the last one to have seen Mourgan, he could only assume it was directed at him. "When I left him," he winced slightly as he tried to take a breath too deep for his current ability. His voice was a little pained as he went on, in between shallower breaths. "he was.. pounding that other guy's face.. had his hand.. bent kinda weird.." He relayed what he recalled of the scene he had caught a glimpse of as he left the tavern. "I think he's.. got things under control.. with that guy." He tried to assure Kaylin, although he actually did not know how that fight would have ended. He'd hurried out before he could see much more.

"Are you.. alright?" He then asked Kaylin, frowning in concern for her. He was glad that at least Elmir seemed to be cooperating at last, not struggling to get free. Not that there was a whole lot that he thought the man could've done at this point, with his arm twisted up behind his back, but still. Trastion didn't know if he could've handled much more struggling, and even wondered if he'd bruised his ribs or something. Hopefully, it would pass before too long, though.

[Arnyn]

Kaylin

Kaylin frowned at Trastion. Mourgan pounding at another guy's face. That sounded good. But then one of them had their hand bent strangely? "Who?" she demanded, though her voice wasn't as controlled as it usually would be. Her hand seemed to look for stronger support from the wall. But the wall only had its surface to offer, of course. She could demand no more of it. Her other hand, still holding the knife, moved toward her head. She pressed the side of her hand against her head, as if it was going to ward of the dull headache she'd gotten. "Whose hand was bent weird?" She couldn't quite make sense of whether Trastion was talking about the stranger or about Mourgan, and concern gripped her. "He shouldn't be alone," she protested to anyone who would listen.

Trastion asking her whether she was alright, made Kaylin roll her eyes. "I'm fine," she lied through her teeth. "As if a few thugs like this - could rattle me." They had, though. For a moment there, for a very dangerous moment, she'd been defenseless. It had scared the wits out of her. It scared her still.

She needed to sit. Or better yet, lie down. Start to sober up. Stop screwing up, too. She was fighting her own body and head hard in order to appear steady and sure of herself. So far, she was managing rather well. It was easier when she paused, though. More challenging when she walked. "Are you?" she returned the question. She wanted to add more, about how the guy in there had really had it out for him. But speaking was making her head worse. She needed a break from it.

[Karis Ziranphel]

Thûllir Bregedŷr
Third Week of August
Behind the Wayfarer’s Inn

Binding it was then. The man’s tongue had decided the matter for him. Thûllir wasn’t at all concerned by Balthor’s threats as he wrested the man’s arms behind him and bound them together, and gave a derisive chuckle of quiet laughter that had a decidedly unamused edge to it before leaning forward so the man could see him clearly. Reaching up, he tapped him on the cheek lightly while meeting his gaze with the steely glint of threat in his eyes. “And why do you think they would believe you?” This one was taking up his time with idle chatter. He didn’t think they had anything further to discuss, and wasn’t in the mood to bandy words with the lout while Kaylin was in possible distress. Shifting back, he turned in his crouch away from Balthor to survey the scene.

He had heard the words exchanged between Kaylin and Trastion, and felt his ire and concern grow alike to see her leaning so unsteadily against the wall. Cadil didn’t exactly look fully in control, but sufficiently so, and Trastion had listened to enough reason to kneel on the man Thûllir had dropped on arrival, and he could allow himself to actually focus on her. In a swift glance he took in the determined look on her face mixed with pain, and the red marks starting to show at her neck. She was concerned about Mourgan being alone? Obviously she wasn’t thinking clearly both by the topic and her tone, and he was concerned about the way her head had hit the stones earlier. Despite her words, she didn’t sound or seem fine.

Thûllir’s voice was clear and firm with biting emphasis as he inserted himself in their conversation. “Mourgan is not alone. He is in an Inn full of people, and Alf is a good bouncer. He is not without aid and is only facing one. He is not alone.” He rose from his crouch abruptly and cast a scorching glance at Kaylin’s two friends as his fists clenched. Such incompetents to let her get isolated by two, which had become three before any of them showed their faces. Even at her best, three might have been challenging and dangerous, and the thought was part of what still had a frisson of fear at what could have been skittering along his spine. “How could you two fools let this gutter trash get her alone for so long before you managed to show up?” He left it at that and bit back the further words that wanted to spill from his lips, shoving aside the fire that licked at him before he could give in to the temptation to lay into them as well. Instead, he breathed out to steady his control and stepped over to meet Kaylin so as to pause her meander along the wall.

“Kaylin.” Her name dropped from his lips with gentle firmness to warn her of his approach as he reached for her shoulder with one hand to steady her and with the other to wrap gently around her knife hand that was covered in blood and blending into the red tresses of her hair. Seeing her condition up close had more questions and concerns rising, but he knew not to speak them yet. Too much compassion in public would have her lashing out at him instead, but he couldn’t help his protectiveness. “You don’t need the knife anymore. Sit down and let me check you over…please, Melethril.” The last two words were a soft whisper.

[Arnyn]

Third week of August
Behind the Wayfarer's Inn

Balthor

His knee! Not his knee! His other knee, his good knee--!! He moved on the cobblestones, concerned about what this would mean for him.

He grunted when his arms were forced behind him and tightly bound. The ranger's chuckle was unnerving. Why would he laugh after such a good threat? The best threats were true - and everything he would tell the Guard would be! Balthor tried to look at Thûllir over his shoulder, but soon enough the ranger leaned forward to come into his view - all by himself. The almost gentle tap on his cheek was humiliating. The spoken words sobering.

Mentally, Balthor cursed. The question was valid, and he knew it the moment he heard it. They wouldn't believe a word of what he was saying, of course.

The ranger moved away. But it wasn't as if Balthor could make a run for it.

Kaylin

The sudden surprise of Thûllir's voice made her jump a little. Should it have been a surprise, though? She'd known he was right there. Despite not being able to think as clearly as she usually would, however, the edge to her husband's tone was all too obvious.

“Mourgan is not alone. He is in an Inn full of people, and Alf is a good bouncer. He is not without aid and is only facing one. He is not alone.”

What was Thûllir trying to say? It wasn't as if they were alone out here, either. Four rangers! Her frown deepened as Thûllir rose to his full height and downright glared at Trastion and Cadil. What? Why was he upset at them? She had been the one drinking. She had been the one to approach the wrong table, not remembering the thugs' faces right. She had been the one to call back to them that she would be fine when one of them dragged her out. Why was Thûllir jumping to the conclusion that all this was somehow her friends' fault? Besides - what was wrong with her friends assuming that she could handle herself, huh?

Some of Thûllir's thoughts and feelings were explained by what he said next. While Kaylin immensely appreciated the use of the term 'gutter trash' - that was right on the nose - it sounded like Thûllir was upset because she had been alone. She wanted to protest, say it had only been for a few moments and that it really hadn't taken all that long. And then she realized that her saying such a thing would focus Thûllir's attention entirely on why she, indeed, had not been able to handle such a short time with some riff-raff much less trained than she. Her lips still parted, ready to speak - but the way Thûllir moved just then made her close them in order to swallow down sudden nerves. Her Bregedyr was burning. They were all in dangerous territory. Her eyes looked guiltily at Trastion and Cadil. Kaylin was miserable.

Her eyes met Thûllir's with apologetic dispiritedness when he stepped up to her and spoke her name. Part of her wanted to welcome his steadying hand, another part of her wished to reject it. So she might cling to the illusion that she was alright. The illusion that she was able to just walk off both the fright and the hits to her head - and perhaps even the drinks. When his other hand curled around hers with such an amount of tenderness that it almost made her want to drop the facade altogether and wrap her arms around his neck to seek an escape from the whole situation, Kaylin instead nodded just once. She also surrendered the knife to him. Yet her frown soon returned.

She wanted to say she did not need to sit to be looked at. Really, it had taken considerable effort to stand. She'd rather not sit back down again so soon, for she doubted she'd be able to rise again in any sort of acceptably independent manner. Yet, she also did not want to talk. The moment she spoke, he would smell the alcohol on her breath. So instead, she gave him a stubborn look and stood her ground. Even though there was no... plan. She would let him take a look at her head. At her neck. But sitting down... Aule's Hammer. She needed to avoid sitting down.

Elmir

He was listening in to all that was being said, through the stabbing and twisting pain along the center of his back. "If we're gutter trash, so is she," he half-groaned, half-laughed. He was almost fainting from pain anyway. May as well derive some satisfaction from this by provoking the one who'd hurt him so badly. "Or she was gonna be," he sneared. "I'd have enjoyed painting some more red on your red little flower, but she'd also ended up rather blue if I'd had my way with her."

[Karis Ziranphel]

Thûllir Bregedŷr
Third Week of August
Behind the Wayfarer’s Inn

He knew the stubborn frown that crossed her face, and sighed quietly, giving her a small nod and a searching look in return for her one of apology. She obviously did not want to sit down, which meant she likely thought she couldn’t rise again, and that had him more concerned about her condition, along with the alcohol that he could smell wafting off her. The sour malty smell of beer mingled with the sharper tang of liquor, the rusty scent of blood and sweat. It was with relief that he took the blade from her loosened grasp and tucked it through the back of his belt.He could see the abrasions and bruising on her cheek well enough to know they were painful without needing to prod at them. His fingertips lifted first to the knot on her head. No broken skin there. Good. They then dropped to lightly trace the marks on her throat with a featherlight touch, and he swallowed sharply. He could have lost her! A few more moments…Elmir’s laughing groan broke into his thoughts, and Thûllir's nostrils whitened as anger shot through him again and his lips compressed into a thin line.

Painting more red on your red little flower…end up rather blue…If I’d my way with her. Those words ricocheted through Thûllir. He knew what he had seen when he rounded the corner and knew the intent of the men had likely been to degrade her completely before possibly attempting her life. Blue could mean so many things, but none of them were good. Bruising, sorrow, cold, death. In combination with the threat of painting her red with blood…the fury made Thûllir’s jaw clench and alternating hot and cold wash through his veins, yet sorrow and pain was mingled in his gaze as it lingered on the bruising handprints on Kaylin’s neck. He fought with the desire to go kick the man’s head in. If they weren’t in the city of the king he might not need to heed the restraint he cloaked himself in most of the time, but he didn’t dare kill the man as he wished for those words. All of them. He was close to not caring about the consequences, and had to let the anger spiral out. His fingertips rose to Kaylin’s jaw to brush it with a light caress as he breathed in and out a few times to get himself under control.

Words were slow to form in the silence of those seconds, but they eventually rose cold and reluctant but clear through the rasp of his tight throat. “You all heard him. Heard them. They intended to attempt injury and rape or death against my wife. This will be their charge.” He paused. “They deserve death at my hand or hers, but we will let the King decide their fate. Trastion, be a good lad and kneel harder.” Thûllir's gaze had remained on Kaylin throughout, not daring to look at the men who threatened her life even now. He knew she wanted to show her strength, but couldn’t just leave her leaning there now or pretend further dispassion. He pulled her into his embrace, reminding himself that he could be relieved she was as whole and unharmed as she was.

[Rillewen]

@Arnyn @Isolde Alarion @Pele Alarion @Karis Ziranphel

Recruit Trastion Leithor
Third Week of August

"No, Mourgan was.. doing the bending," He assured Kaylin, but before he had a chance to answer anything else, Thullir had spoken up, obviously displeased. Trastion's mouth opened slightly in disbelief that he was actually being accused here. He had tried to get out here immediately! Part of him wanted to protest, but he held off from actually trying to say anything, for now anyway. He'd tried his best to get out there to help Kaylin as quickly as possible, but there were just some things that were out of his control, however hard he tried. But, he reminded himself that Thullir didn't know the whole story, and now didn't seem quite like the time to try and explain it. It was understandable that he would be angry, after what he must have seen going on when he arrived.

When Elmir made the stupid mistake of speaking up, Trastion's temper flared as well. That these guys would have attempted what he was saying was bad enough, but to brag about what he'd wanted to do? He couldn't help wondering how stupid a person would have to be to actually think this was a good moment to be boasting about such things. Trastion had removed his knee, earlier, so not to cause him undue pain, but now he changed his mind. It was definitely due, and well-deserved. Trastion returned his knee to press down on the same spot that had clearly caused the man pain before. "That's enough from you," He retorted, pushing Elmir's arm just a little higher up his back.

About that time, Thullir spoke about how their fates would be decided by the king, and what their charges would be, and then actually asked Trastion to kneel harder on the creep. "Gladly," He muttered, and dug his knee into the man's back, while letting most of his weight go into it, without heeding whatever cries of pain it might draw forth. "You all shoulda just backed off when we warned you to." He added quietly, though he really wished that things had turned out better. He was upset and angry that things had taken such a downward spiral, frustrated and regretful that both he and Cadil had been so hindered and delayed in coming to Kaylin's aid. And that even now, he figured Mourgan was still dealing with the fourth guy, so he still hadn't managed to come check if Kaylin needed help.

[Arnyn]

Third week of August
Behind the Wayfarer's Inn

Kaylin

She didn't wince when he so carefully touched the bump on her head, completely trusting him to be as tentative as he was. Instead her eyes were focused on his face, assessing the way he was assessing her, gauging his response to all that had happened and how events were unfolding further. The way he swallowed and how his face looked when he barely brushed his fingertips against the skin of her neck, made her heart go out to him. Whatever he was thinking... it brought him pain. She had caused him pain by being so careless. Kaylin used her now knife-free hand to lightly touch his chest. She was about to speak, disregarding her earlier thoughts about Thûllir smelling the alcohol on her breath. Offering him some measure of reassurance took priority.

Yet she never got that far. Not before Elmir shared what he, at least, had been planning to do with her. If she hadn't been staring into Thûllir's pained eyes, she would have narrowed her own in disgust and derision of the thug's words. For in this moment, after the fact, with him restrained and powerless, they meant nothing. Empty boasting meant to draw some small measure of joy if they reacted to it badly. But Kaylin was looking into her husband's eyes. And she saw what the words did to him. To Thûllir, they did not mean nothing. To Thûllir, they were not empty. Putting herself in his place... she understood. It was always worse when it was about someone you loved than when it was about yourself. Kaylin knew she would have lost it. But Thûllir was stronger than she was in this regard. Despite the way he could burn with anger, he usually kept it tucked inside, except for when he was actually fighting.

Concern for him clamped around her heart when she saw the unspoken thoughts behind his eyes. She had no idea what he was thinking of course. But the words had hit him hard, of that much she was certain. His eyes were still on her neck, and this concerned her further. The clenching of his jaw, the way she saw his eyes tighten... Would he be able to control the anger that was burning him up from the inside? And if he was able to control it now, in the presence of others, would he unleash it at the punching bag back home? Or on the wood-splitting log?

Spellbound, she could do naught but wait. Wait for the results of his inner turmoil.

His words were tight and cold. He was forcing them out. They were icier than the white caps on Mount Mindolluin in wintertime. She did not frown when his words described what he thought their intentions had been. He was probably right, although Kaylin would prefer to think they had no more than injury in mind. Silence was all she had still, as she swallowed back the painful reality of those words. How had she been able to let things come to this? Even without serious injury, she'd been helpless against that wall. That bloody wall...

“They deserve death at my hand or hers, --" Yes, they probably did. "- but we will let the King decide their fate." Her eyes widened slightly. She respected the way he could rein himself in, despite surely wanting to snap their necks. She'd always admired that about him. By the Valar, he was even more of an attracting man when he showed such power. Power she lacked.

"Trastion, be a good lad and kneel harder.” A flicker of satisfaction crossed her face, and she moved her hand from the wall, intending to offer some comfort, or perhaps silently ask for peace between them, or... Well. She just wanted to offer him... something. That's when he gently pulled her against him, his arms wrapping around her protectively. Possessively, even. But there was something else radiating from him. Even though Kaylin couldn't put her finger on the fact that it was in fact enormous relief, she recognized that he was the one who needed this embrace. And so, she allowed it. Her own arms curled around him slowly, and she closed her eyes briefly. "I'm here," she whispered, not sure what prompted her to say such a silly and obvious thing. "We are here."

Elmir

Elmir had barely managed not to cry out in pain when Trastion twisted his arm further and returned his knee to his back. The words had been worth it. Smug ranger upstarts. They all thought they were better than him. Than them.

Unfortunately, the ranger who'd called the redhead his wife didn't seem too phased by his words. Not outwardly. But it had to hurt on the inside though. It was a man's thing. When they thought of not being able to protect the ones they loved, they tended to go crazy. Elmir grinned - a disgusting blend of humor and pain. Then the pressure from the knee in his back increased, and he lost himself to a world of pain. He cried out, seemingly crying out his lungs. Even though he had his eyes closed, his vision turned white. And then everything went black, and he lost consciousness.

Balthor

"Undue force," he spit out, along with some blood, when he saw his buddy blacking out. "Rangers or not, you already had him restrained. You're supposed to be the good guys. You'll get punished for this." Narrowing his eyes, he prepared for another comment like no one believing him. "And would you all lie outright to your officers? I think not!"

[Pele Alarion]

Cadil
Third Week of August

Cadil did not respond right away to the insult lest something alike to Corgil's words escape him; it would not do to fall to the same depths of foul mouth - he realised that much. He barely escaped the man's unhurt large hand which came groping for him, and tightened the grip on the collar while he tried to figure out how to make sure he had a good hold on Corgil and not vice versa.

"Should have listened to someone," Cadil eventually said, attempting to keep his voice light. "Perhaps you would have turned out to be more than all muscle and no brain."

"Turn around on your belly and kiss the street," he demanded after a while, his anger fueled by what he heard the other ruffians saying, and a sting to his self-esteem from Thûllir's reproach. "Else I'll end up throttling you or damaging that other arm of yours. I am no Ranger and don't have officers to report to, mind you." He half played with an idea to try and pull the man in such a way that it would be possible to step on his injured hand; however, he quickly discarded that idea. Instead he simply tried to keep himself out of Corgil's reach and at the same time tried to push him over forwards by applying pressure on the collar and the upper back.

[Karis Ziranphel]

Thûllir Bregedŷr
Third Week of August
Behind the Wayfarer’s Inn

It eased him when Kaylin allowed his embrace without resistance, and slowly wrapped her arms around him in turn. Her whispered words soothing the jagged edges of emotion, and he only vaguely paid attention to Trastion’s assent to his request that then led to the offending man crying out in pain. The sound was horrible, but brief. The other man Balthor’s immediate protest had Thûllir sighing quietly even as the words annoyed him. “Thank you, Kaylin.” He murmured softly before drawing back and meeting her gaze to convey he meant the thanks for both her words and the embrace.

Turning slowly, he looked to where Trastion held down the now unconscious man and paused a moment before speaking steadily in a conversational tone. “Looks like that was about right, Trastion. You may recover.” The young man might chaff at his direction, but it served as a means of Thûllir taking responsibility for the actions. His gaze tracked over to where Cadil still wrestled at the third thug with the wounded hand. It was tempting to offer him a blade to speed the man’s compliance, but he wanted to see if the former soldier would be successful on his own first. Thûllir’s voice was dispassionately curious by the time he finally replied to the man he had bound. “Who are you to complain of excessive force? You and your companions yet live and have all your limbs.” His gaze finally swung to meet that of the man. “You didn’t stop after my wife was restrained. Be glad you did not have the opportunity to continue.” He let the words settle a second before continuing. “We need not lie to our officers, and both evidence and witnesses are abundant for your own actions. You seem quite obsessed with your retribution.”

[Rillewen]

@Arnyn @Isolde Alarion @Pele Alarion @Karis Ziranphel

Recruit Trastion Leithor
Third Week of August

The accusation about 'undue force' made Trastion want to roll his eyes. He really wanted to stuff something into that guy's mouth, but alas, he had nothing to use for such a purpose. But, when Elmir went limp under him, Trastion was half-wondering if he was faking, when Thullir said he could recover. Though his ability to breathe was returning, he still felt it best not to try taking breaths too deep for a while, and there was still a dull ache in the area between his ribs. He slowly let go of Elmir's arm and sat up, moving his knee back to the ground. "I think it's gonna be a long while before I recover," He muttered, mainly to himself but audible enough to be heard by those nearer to him, as he cautiously placed a hand against the place where he hurt. He was sure that it was going to be bruised, and dreaded having to look at it later.

Hearing Cadil's words to the other guy, Trastion glanced over, really hoping to see the guy actually pucker up and kiss the street. That would just be awesome. But he very much doubted the guy would take him literally, and there wasn't much they could do to actually force him to do so. But it couldn't hurt to hope, right? Still, he was inwardly amused to hear Cadil remind the guy that he was not a ranger, and didn't have to answer to anyone. He found it hard to believe they might actually get in any trouble for this, since they were only defending themselves, while these guys were clearly intent on attacking them. "Should I tie this guy, or what?" He asked, to anyone who would answer. Wondering what he could use for that, he glanced around briefly.

[Arnyn]

@Rillewen @Isolde Alarion @Pele Alarion @Karis Ziranphel

Third week of August - Outside the inn
Alfric
The innkeeper

He'd gone to fetch rope. Enough of it to cut four lengths. He was only faintly familiar with the four who had been facing off against Mourgan, Kaylin, Cadil and the young recruit. Elmir, Balthor,... He didn't even know the names of the other two. And what he knew best was that the atmosphere always changed just a little when any combination of them arrived. Thankfully, they did not frequent his and Hildy's place frequently.
Mentally, the innkeeper cursed. Usually, Mourgan, Kaylin and their friends would be able to hold their own, no problem. But Cadil hadn't been a soldier in a few years now. The fourth member of their group was still in training. And he had just been about to cut Kaylin off - once he'd realized how many drinks she'd had and how unsteady she'd become on her feet.

He followed Mourgan outside, just in time to watch one of Elmir's buddies try and cut Mourgan with the broken bottle. Frowning, Alf waited in the doorway, eying Mourgan. The Ranger did not disappoint. The takedown was impressive. One huge man lifting and dropping another. Ignoring the boasting from the one now lying on the street's cobblestones, Alf stepped forward. "Mourgan," he said, as a warning of his approach so the ranger would not turn around to swing at him, next. "These lot are best tied up." He glared at the fellow. "You will be paying for that bottle." It was not a question, nor a threat. It was a fact.

Alf narrowed his eyes, looking around. "Where are your friends?" he asked Mourgan. "They couldn't have gone far."

Someone could be heard crying out. Half-focused, half-alarmed, Alfric discerned the sound was coming from around the corner. Alf said nothing while he tied the ropes around the big-muscled man's wrists, as well as his ankles. Mourgan's glare, apparently, was enough for him not to get any more crazy ideas. "If you want to visit my inn again," Alf told Mourgan, "you will make sure he stays here. And doesn't run off."

After what felt like forever, the innkeeper rounded the corner. The sight in front of him made him freeze momentarily. Elmir was down on the ground, crying out, with the young recruit's knee in his back. Alf could see him going limp. Cadil had another one of the men well in hand, even though that one might still be a threat if left untied. Balthor was talking some smack about 'undue force'. But it was the way Thûllir was holding Kaylin that possibly concerned him the most. An unexpected arrival... but an opportune one, it seemed. Thûllir let go of his wife to turn around. While he spoke, Alf stepped into full view.

He saw how the recruit carefully released Elmir to the stones beneath him at Thûllir's behest, listening to the former Ranger of Ithilien's response to Balthor's claim.

"Here, lad," Alf told Trastion as he readied another length of rope. "You can use this." He handed Trastion a piece of the rope before moving on to Cadil. "Hold him steady, Cadil," Alfric instructed, not intending to remain a completely passive partner in the proceedings. Once that one was bound, he turned to assess Balthor. "Abdundant indeed. I will inform the guards personally." His eyes swept over Thûllir's expression and the way Kaylin was still leaning onto him with one arm, her other hand to his chest. This, combined with her uncertain body language - highly unusual - and Thûllir's earlier words, concerned him. "What exactly happened here, son?" the innkeeper asked Thûllir.

Kaylin

When she saw that Trastion was lowering an unconscious Elmir to the ground, Kaylin startled. It had been Elmir crying out in pain, she realized. What had Trastion done to him? She parted her lips as she looked at her newest friend. Had he done that... for her? She did not want him to get in trouble for this...

Then she spotted Alf. Alf! Kaylin almost groaned with unhappiness. The more people out here, the worse it all became. How was she to maintain a halfway decent reputation like this? Yet when the innkeeper asked Thûllir what had happened, she did not feel the urge she doubtlessly would have otherwise had to answer in his stead. Because it had happened to her, not to Thûllir, hadn't it? She could speak for herself, couldn't she?

This time, though, she could not so much as get the words past her lips. Nor did she feel like hearing them once more, spelling out her bad decisions and current incompetence.

The urge to speak was just as strong as the urge to never speak of it again. And thus, Kaylin opened her mouth. Only to breathe.

[Karis Ziranphel]

Thûllir Bregedŷr
Third Week of August
Behind the Wayfarer’s Inn

Alf’s appearance was welcome when the Innkeeper stepped forward to take charge of the situation and help bind the last two ruffians, conscious or otherwise. Thûllir remained where he was, thankful that he could remain as Kaylin’s support without having to be involved in the “cleanup” portion. Alf was like an uncle to him after all the time he had spent in the Inn as a second home over the years, and he trusted the man implicitly. Thûllir had dropped the one hand so that he could turn around and keep an eye on things, but kept contact with Kaylin to steady her. It wasn’t much, but that she uncharacteristically remained leaning lightly against him kept him rooted in place.

He lifted his hand to cover Kaylin’s on his chest when Alf asked him about what had happened. Tucking his chin slightly as he put his thoughts in order, Thûllir paused briefly and then spoke slowly. “You likely saw whatever happened inside. When I was coming up the street I saw those two fighting with Kaylin.” Thûllir indicated Elmir and Balthor with his chin. “The other came bursting out the door with Cadil. I didn’t see their portion of the tussle, as the big one somehow got Kaylin in a chokehold and dragged her around the corner by her neck, with her fighting the whole way and yelling for him to release her. The second picked up a knife and followed with intent. When I rounded the corner, she was being choked out up against the wall and the knife wielder was heading for her. I dropped him first and then hit the one holding Kaylin, demanding he release her. He did let go, but dropped her and attacked me instead. Meanwhile the one who had been fighting Cadil attacked me from behind. I fell advantageously on the big guy, who Kaylin had gotten back at with her knife. The third man then tried to drag Kaylin away by her hair. I dropped him with a sweep of his legs, and she got his hand…then Cadil and Trastion showed up to assist with subduing and holding them. They have been spewing threats and strange stories, some of which you heard as you walked up.”

His explanation was as succinct as he could make it, leaving out plenty of details but hopefully giving a clear picture. He didn’t want to stick around all that long if they weren’t needed. His voice dropped slightly but was clear as he continued. “Kaylin’s throat shows clear signs of bruising and handprints, and she has abrasions to her face and head from being knocked against the wall. Clear grounds for assault with intent by men who outnumbered her.” He glanced down at Kaylin and then over at Alf again. “If it is alright with you, we can settle accounts later and will head home now. I meant to stop for some of Hildy’s rolls, but will catch up another time. Thank you, Alf.”

[Pele Alarion]

Cadil
Third Week of August

Things could possibly have gone either way if Cadil had to struggle with his opponent for much longer, though he was also sure that he would have received assistance if things had gone really bad. But any further exploration of this matter was cancelled when Alf appeared around the corner and in a very business-like manner took to providing means to bind the baddies. The young man held Corgil as tightly as he could to let the innkeep tie him.

Once he was sure his guy would not escape, Cadil got up and brushed some dirt off his clothes, as he took in the bigger view of the scene.

It appeared that Thûllir was wanting to take Kaylin home, and he thought it would only be reasonable. The situation had really gone well out of hand... And it seemed that the redhead had taken most of the damage in addition to her condition of having a few too many drinks. So Cadil thought that it would only be fair if he stayed to assist with clean up, since he really had been adding oil to the fire, a little bit.

"Should I run and fetch the guards?" he asked Alf, even though any running he would attempt might take a while. "Or rather watch them for you?"

[Rillewen]

@Arnyn @Isolde Alarion @Pele Alarion @Karis Ziranphel

Recruit Trastion Leithor
Third Week of August

Trastion was a bit surprised when the innkeeper showed up with rope in hand. As if in answer to Trastion's question, the man handed him a length and then went to aid Cadil in subduing his prisoner. Trastion wasn't familiar with Alf, and had in fact only been to the Wayfarer twice that he could think of; today being the second time. He gave a nod of thanks to him as he accepted the rope.

Turning to Elmir while Thullir answered Alf's inquiry about what happened, Trastion reached across the man's unconscious form and pulled his other arm to join the first, behind his back. It only took a moment to wrap the rope around both wrists securely, then he hesitated briefly as he tried to decide the best sort of knot to use for this. Having never had to tie anyone's hands before, he tied a square knot, then wrapped the excess ends around his wrists a second time and then tied them in a double fisherman's knot, before sitting back and hoping it was secure enough.

Hearing Cadil offer to get the guards, Trastion couldn't help making his own inquiry. "Sir, what about Mourgan?" He wondered. "He did get the fourth guy under control, right?" He was anxious to be sure of that, since he hadn't stuck around to see how that fight ended.

[Arnyn]

@Rillewen @Isolde Alarion @Pele Alarion @Karis Ziranphel

Third week of August - Outside the inn
Alfric

Alf's eyes roamed over the stones of the back street, noticing a few droplets of blood in a few places, the remains of Kaylin emptying her stomach in another. A strand of long, red hair near one of the bloodiest stones. HIs gaze then swept up to assess Kaylin: her face, her neck, the way she was standing. Honestly, the biggest tell was the girl's silence, wasn't it?

"Right," the innkeeper said. In truth, most of the drinks had already been paid for. But Thûllir didn't know that. At least Alf knew Kaylin and Thûllir well enough not to doubt they would return to settle the last of what was owed. "I can speak to the guards," he decided. "And will offer your names and address, lad, if they demand it." It was a possibility they would want to verify the story, after all. Alf turned his attention to Kaylin. "I think going home is your best bet, lass. I know you're not easily impressed, especially not by the likes of these. But I won't be serving you any more today, at least," he said, giving her a different excuse to leave, and choosing to address her directly rather than through Thûllir.

Kaylin wet her lips. "Well then. I suppose we can go home," she said with a tentative look at Thûllir.

The innkeeper nodded at both her and Thûllir and then turned to Cadil. "I'd prefer it if you go get them, Cadil. Thank you." He wasn't about to leave Hildy to manage the inn alone right after a fight like this had taken place right outside. When the youngest of the bunch asked him about Mourgan, Alfric raised an eyebrow. "Of course he did, lad. Mourgan is now watching the last one of this lot - all tied up 'round the corner." Alf assessed Trastion. "Want me to check those knots?" he asked, remembered that this young man... supposedly... had too many drinks, as well. "You were right on Kaylin's heels with the drinks, weren't you?"