Night In The Brume (Part II)
"How dare you!" The brunette from earlier challenged him, warranting further action from the lingering Sky Guard that stopped them earlier.
"Do not make this any more of a scene!" The tall Avialae dressed in his plate mail uniform demanded, his sharp eyes narrowed on her as well as Rickter now. He on the other hand didn't look well at all, in fact, the left side of his temple was already bruised even more. There were also other parts of his body that ached, yet for what all that was worth, none of it paled in comparison to what he did earlier.
"I'm sorry..." He almost pleaded it actually, his tone low and regretful as to what became of the instrument. Yet in order to make sense of everything that took place prior, a bit of a relapse in his memory had to take place. He'd blacked out as of earlier, as to why that was the case? Well...
Within the late evening, the cool air brought about a pleasant fog, one that swirled off the stones of the streets as it cooled over time. Rickter exited from the High Hopes Tavern still with his own fog in mind, due to the buzz he felt from the ale he drank over dinner. "Hey!" A voice called out to him from around the corner, to which his attention was garnered in a delayed moment. While he paused on his walk home to see who had addressed him, a lone figure stood at a relatively average height, though still relatively short in comparison to Rickter. While the glow of the lampposts didn't entirely illuminate his features, the wolf could tell that he was a brawny man, perhaps a laborer with cropped brown hair.
"Hey you, can I get a hand?" The guy requested as he pointed a thumb around the corner of the tavern. "My buddy passed out from drinkin' too much. You look pretty strong, right? A guy like you oughta be able to lift him easily." Rickter's eyebrows slightly furrowed at the remark, as he was a bit puzzled as to why he was requested such a thing. Was somebody really that drunk? He hadn't really paid attention to anyone leaving or entering the place while he ate, so it was hard to tell whether or not such was the case.
"It'll cost ya." The wolf could only slightly muse, getting quite a bit of a laugh from the man.
"Really?! Jeez, should've figured you for a merc I guess." The man's tone was almost jubilant, in a bit of a vibrant yet transparent manner. "Alright fine, help me get him to his room and we'll talk money." Well now, that certainly wasn't expected. Yet the idea of making another easy amount of coin felt all too promising here, thus Rickter reluctantly began to move towards the man with hands balled loosely. He was led down the alley between the tavern and the building next to it, right to a spot where someone had in fact lain against the wall. He was hunched sideways with his head hanging over, as though he'd meant to vomit and merely passed out there. The poor sod.
"Y' sure he's not dead?" The tipsy wolf couldn't help but muse with a glance at the man, who merely shrugged with his hands raised with the gesture.
"He likes to hit the booze pretty hard, actually had to pretty much help him get here earlier." He explained as Rickter tilted his head a little to the right, with a slow and steady drop to bend his knees into a squat. From the looks of it, the bastard really was out cold, and bloodied up pretty well too now that he'd noticed the few gashes on his forehead. Did he get those while he was drunk? Wait a second... Something wasn't right.
Suddenly Rickter's upper body was constricted by someone, someone who he could only assume was the man behind him, as his firm arms wrapped around his torso from underneath the shoulders. Rickter even felt the man's hands press firmly into his nape, further securing him in the hold he had as the man on the ground stirred. That face! He remembered seeing it before! "Well well," the brawler from the Fighter's Pit chuckled as he said that, "look at what we have here!" The son of a bitch wasn't drunk! He was out for Rickter, and he brought a tag along to help him out!
"That was easier than I thought it'd be, guess I don't have to worry about you puttin' up a struggle now!" As if on queue the wolf immediately reacted, pulling his arms forward only to find they couldn't obey him.
"Damn Gilliam! You said he was strong but not this strong!" His captor remarked with a few grunts, clearly challenged by Rickter's strength and size alone. Yet the brawler named Gilliam wasn't taking any chances, thus with a swift and well-aimed punch to the gut, Rickter felt the impact of the blow knocking the wind from his lungs. That was all he needed. Struggle or no he was going to break free, otherwise, he'd be forced to take this helplessly. "Shit man, now he's gettin' angry!"
"Quit yer complainin'!" A third voice came in from behind as his right arm was taken and held, allowing his original captor to push him down from the left a moment afterward. This was the part where Rickter's eyes were wide with fear, as he now knew he couldn't struggle his way out of this. Both of these men were strong, alone not as strong as Rickter, but together they suppressed him easily... leaving Gilliam plenty of time to enjoy what came next.
"Sorry mate, but y' screwed me pretty good in the ring. I even lost quite a bit of coin thanks to you!" The tempered brawler growled with a sinister grin, as he started cracking the knuckles on his right hand. The left looked tightly bandaged after their last match together, a sure tell sign that he damaged it pretty good in the fight. "Oh this? Yeah, that stung like a bitch, but it'll be nothin' compared to what you're about to feel." And just like that his talk was backed by action, as the right fist he made swung hard to smack into Rickter's head. The moment searing hot pain radiated into his skull a ringing noise filled his ears, as the wolf could only clench his jaw and take the hit once it landed. "I'm gonna make you regret beatin' me in that ring, in fact, you're never gonna show up there again once I'm through with you!"
Another swing of his right hand came as he backhanded Rickter right across the cheek, underneath the very same bruised area over his cheekbone in fact. More pain radiated into the entire right side of his face, as the wolf could only growl before spitting at Gilliam's feet. "Hey now, that wasn't very nice!" Gilliam teased viciously as he grappled the wolf by his hair, pulling his head up so that he had to look into the brawler's sardonic expression. He wanted to tear that grin off the man's face, and make him regret he ever came to punish the wolf to begin with. "Y' look better down there, perhaps y' should eat dirt while yer at it!" Sure enough the threat came with a merciless kick, the toe of the brawler's boot hitting Rickter's left rib cage harshly, as the others released him from their constraints.
Yet there was no time. No time to react let alone fight back, as the moment he wanted to try, Rickter fell forward with the desperate need to cover the injured area. It didn't stop there, however, the moment he was on the ground, Gilliam was laughing at him as he started to kick more. Soon after the other two were joining him, and all the wolf could do was take it, shielding himself from their kicks as best as he could.
2nd Night of Ash, 120th Year, A.o.S.
It was impossible to process and yet everything had happened, so fast, that it took him a moment to actually relive what had occurred. "It's...." The bard from earlier was on her knees now, her shattered ukulele clutched closely as she appeared just as broken. As if a piece of her was lost with it now, a piece that Rickter had suddenly taken away from her.
"How dare you!" The brunette from earlier challenged him, warranting further action from the lingering Sky Guard that stopped them earlier.
"Do not make this any more of a scene!" The tall Avialae dressed in his plate mail uniform demanded, his sharp eyes narrowed on her as well as Rickter now. He on the other hand didn't look well at all, in fact, the left side of his temple was already bruised even more. There were also other parts of his body that ached, yet for what all that was worth, none of it paled in comparison to what he did earlier.
"I'm sorry..." He almost pleaded it actually, his tone low and regretful as to what became of the instrument. Yet in order to make sense of everything that took place prior, a bit of a relapse in his memory had to take place. He'd blacked out as of earlier, as to why that was the case? Well...
Within the late evening, the cool air brought about a pleasant fog, one that swirled off the stones of the streets as it cooled over time. Rickter exited from the High Hopes Tavern still with his own fog in mind, due to the buzz he felt from the ale he drank over dinner. "Hey!" A voice called out to him from around the corner, to which his attention was garnered in a delayed moment. While he paused on his walk home to see who had addressed him, a lone figure stood at a relatively average height, though still relatively short in comparison to Rickter. While the glow of the lampposts didn't entirely illuminate his features, the wolf could tell that he was a brawny man, perhaps a laborer with cropped brown hair.
"Hey you, can I get a hand?" The guy requested as he pointed a thumb around the corner of the tavern. "My buddy passed out from drinkin' too much. You look pretty strong, right? A guy like you oughta be able to lift him easily." Rickter's eyebrows slightly furrowed at the remark, as he was a bit puzzled as to why he was requested such a thing. Was somebody really that drunk? He hadn't really paid attention to anyone leaving or entering the place while he ate, so it was hard to tell whether or not such was the case.
"It'll cost ya." The wolf could only slightly muse, getting quite a bit of a laugh from the man.
"Really?! Jeez, should've figured you for a merc I guess." The man's tone was almost jubilant, in a bit of a vibrant yet transparent manner. "Alright fine, help me get him to his room and we'll talk money." Well now, that certainly wasn't expected. Yet the idea of making another easy amount of coin felt all too promising here, thus Rickter reluctantly began to move towards the man with hands balled loosely. He was led down the alley between the tavern and the building next to it, right to a spot where someone had in fact lain against the wall. He was hunched sideways with his head hanging over, as though he'd meant to vomit and merely passed out there. The poor sod.
"Y' sure he's not dead?" The tipsy wolf couldn't help but muse with a glance at the man, who merely shrugged with his hands raised with the gesture.
"He likes to hit the booze pretty hard, actually had to pretty much help him get here earlier." He explained as Rickter tilted his head a little to the right, with a slow and steady drop to bend his knees into a squat. From the looks of it, the bastard really was out cold, and bloodied up pretty well too now that he'd noticed the few gashes on his forehead. Did he get those while he was drunk? Wait a second... Something wasn't right.
Suddenly Rickter's upper body was constricted by someone, someone who he could only assume was the man behind him, as his firm arms wrapped around his torso from underneath the shoulders. Rickter even felt the man's hands press firmly into his nape, further securing him in the hold he had as the man on the ground stirred. That face! He remembered seeing it before! "Well well," the brawler from the Fighter's Pit chuckled as he said that, "look at what we have here!" The son of a bitch wasn't drunk! He was out for Rickter, and he brought a tag along to help him out!
"That was easier than I thought it'd be, guess I don't have to worry about you puttin' up a struggle now!" As if on queue the wolf immediately reacted, pulling his arms forward only to find they couldn't obey him.
"Damn Gilliam! You said he was strong but not this strong!" His captor remarked with a few grunts, clearly challenged by Rickter's strength and size alone. Yet the brawler named Gilliam wasn't taking any chances, thus with a swift and well-aimed punch to the gut, Rickter felt the impact of the blow knocking the wind from his lungs. That was all he needed. Struggle or no he was going to break free, otherwise, he'd be forced to take this helplessly. "Shit man, now he's gettin' angry!"
"Quit yer complainin'!" A third voice came in from behind as his right arm was taken and held, allowing his original captor to push him down from the left a moment afterward. This was the part where Rickter's eyes were wide with fear, as he now knew he couldn't struggle his way out of this. Both of these men were strong, alone not as strong as Rickter, but together they suppressed him easily... leaving Gilliam plenty of time to enjoy what came next.
"Sorry mate, but y' screwed me pretty good in the ring. I even lost quite a bit of coin thanks to you!" The tempered brawler growled with a sinister grin, as he started cracking the knuckles on his right hand. The left looked tightly bandaged after their last match together, a sure tell sign that he damaged it pretty good in the fight. "Oh this? Yeah, that stung like a bitch, but it'll be nothin' compared to what you're about to feel." And just like that his talk was backed by action, as the right fist he made swung hard to smack into Rickter's head. The moment searing hot pain radiated into his skull a ringing noise filled his ears, as the wolf could only clench his jaw and take the hit once it landed. "I'm gonna make you regret beatin' me in that ring, in fact, you're never gonna show up there again once I'm through with you!"
Another swing of his right hand came as he backhanded Rickter right across the cheek, underneath the very same bruised area over his cheekbone in fact. More pain radiated into the entire right side of his face, as the wolf could only growl before spitting at Gilliam's feet. "Hey now, that wasn't very nice!" Gilliam teased viciously as he grappled the wolf by his hair, pulling his head up so that he had to look into the brawler's sardonic expression. He wanted to tear that grin off the man's face, and make him regret he ever came to punish the wolf to begin with. "Y' look better down there, perhaps y' should eat dirt while yer at it!" Sure enough the threat came with a merciless kick, the toe of the brawler's boot hitting Rickter's left rib cage harshly, as the others released him from their constraints.
Yet there was no time. No time to react let alone fight back, as the moment he wanted to try, Rickter fell forward with the desperate need to cover the injured area. It didn't stop there, however, the moment he was on the ground, Gilliam was laughing at him as he started to kick more. Soon after the other two were joining him, and all the wolf could do was take it, shielding himself from their kicks as best as he could.
"Every side attacks you when you don't pick sides."