Users browsing this thread: 1 Guest(s)

[P]  Do Your Worst

Offline Dorin Apr 1 2020, 8:42 PM
#1
  • Corzya
  • Age: 27
  • Gender: Male
  • Race: Dire
  • Rank: Howler
  • Total Posts: 33
  • Played by: Isilzheha
485 Mana · View All Items?
May 20th, 1476


Spirits were high, for now, as the howler sat astride his princeling, reins in one hand and the other resting idly on the pommel of his sword. His gait was stiff-legged and defensive, longer tail swaying behind him as his chin tucked closer to his chest. Dorin knew his eyes were ever watchful of those who skirted around them, sharper teeth gnawing at the bit with wide nostrils flaring to give a derisive snort to those who strayed too close. At the abrupt burst of noise they caught themselves, changing trajectory to give the dire and his steed a wide berth. A few more familiar faces of the greenhorns and deckhands alike were cordial as ever even though they kept their distance, brief nods and waves of the hand greeting him. This particular task wasn’t necessarily the most urgent, although there was a timeframe on it. Dorin was ahead of schedule, the day and even the past few a bit lacking in the labor department. Which was fine by him, he preferred to have a few days off or at least a handful of hours in before he was summoned by whoever had the need. He was heading closer to the jungle for this one, which suited Taegen and his large size, and it was one of the few reasons the dire was in such a good mood. He liked being able to take his companion, and it made for more swift travels with company he enjoyed more than others.

Plus, the summons he carried on the inside of his jacket was burning a hole right through it with an eagerness to hand it directly to one of the captains he liked the least. The reaction would be well worth it, and he knew exactly where the hot-headed captain would be at this hour. Another howler had already told him when he had made land the night before, the human quite predictable in that regard and the Fleet wasn’t entirely happy with the latest endeavors on the sea. Dorin spurred Taegen into a trot, horned and antlered head held aloft now with a prideful air as hooves dug into the softened earth to kick the grass aside until they reached the paths flattened by the heavy traffic over the years. By now, Dorin was relatively familiar with the mainland’s expansive city along the coast. Further in, away from the channels of water and the docks that made up the biggest percentage of it, some of the wilderness had been carved away almost respectfully to make room for some of the other bigger establishments that needed more protection.

They didn’t dare delve deeper, the Unclaim beyond the Pass far too unpredictable to even consider expansion, but it was still a sizable expanse that Taegen took to with ease. More in his element, just like the land Dorin owned and had cultivated around his modest home here, and so Dorin let him take point with minimal guidance down the pathways. It wasn’t all business this side of Gibrantt, several taverns and smaller inns set up amidst the stores and stables for the work animals hauling carts along. Dorin didn’t lead Taegen to one of those, instead dismounting outside of one of the more rundown taverns to take the princeling’s chin in his hand. The other settled on his nose, giving it a gentle stroke as he leaned in. “No trouble, okay?” was all he said, a low murmur meant only for his companion who gave a huff in response like he knew what he was saying. The beast was clever and intelligent, Dorin knew that much, so he wouldn’t have been surprised if he did actually know what he was saying. He didn’t bother tying him, letting the stag roam as freely as he so desired. He would rather he be able to properly defend himself or otherwise flee than be staked up amidst the heavy population of pirates that occupied this island.

Into the tavern he went, Dorin taking a moment to recall the last time he had been here. For leisure that time, with a bit of pleasure, although he didn’t remember too many of the finer details. With the light illuminating some of the entryway, what patrons were met with first was the railing overlooking the relatively spacious interior of the tavern. This fed into the stairs, situating it all below ground which kept it cooler and helped to stifle the loudness of the music and those who imbibed throughout. The door closed behind him, Dorin reaching into the pocket of his jacket to pull free the sealed letter held together by Caio’s stamp. At the same time he glanced over the railing to see Stanimir in the usual spot: a round table in the corner against the stairs with four others sitting with him. Large and small, ugly and not, it didn’t matter to Dorin as his attention fell upon the lesser captain. He didn’t bother to hide his approach, in fact making quite the energetic show of it with booted heels stamping down against the wood. He leaned over the railing then, tapping the corner of the folded paper against the stubbled, square jaw of the human. Their conversation cut short, Dorin doing it fast enough the others only had time to open their mouths, and when Stanimir swiped at it the howler was already at the bottom of the steps. His lips tugged into a grin, posture loose as the human glared at him when his head finally whipped around.

Dark eyes dug into his face, but he didn’t utter the question Dorin knew he was about to as the dire tapped the paper tauntingly against his other palm this time. ‘From who?’ he snapped, straight to the point as always, and Dorin clicked his tongue. He came to a stop beside the table, extending the letter out to be snatched away as he explained it anyway, “Caio. She needs you by midnight tonight.” He, too, kept it short and simple as the human broke the seal and started reading. He would know soon enough, and Dorin couldn’t help but hang on to every tick and twitch of his stern features. A wild ride, to be sure, with the way muscles twitched and skin creased along a hawk-like nose. Eventually it settled into a scowl altogether, the letter tossed to the tabletop as he crossed his arms to glare at Dorin again. ‘I ain’t tippin’ you,’ he spat, and did literally around the chewing tobacco in his mouth. Dorin watched it hit the ground inches from his foot with a listlessness that extended to the human’s fired up antics.

Didn’t expect you to, just needed to make sure you saw it all,” he countered, almost pleasantly, and a faint smile ghosted along his face this time. “Chin up, Stanimir, it can’t possibly be as bad as last time.” Dorin was spinning on his heel as he did so, beginning to make his way to pull himself around to the steps. Caio had made a proper fool out of the human the last time he was here, especially with as big of a fuckup as he had done by the Combatant eximius. Most if not all of Gibrantt knew about it, so it really was no surprise to the howler when the legs of his chair scraped loudly against the floor. ‘The fuck ya just say, boy?’ Dorin made it a few steps when his elbow was caught, the others joining their captain in standing even though theirs was a bit more casual. Pointed ears pulled backwards with a flicker of annoyance when he was jerked to a stop, arm yanked to the point Dorin turned back around. Right into the fist swiping for his face, a firm punch digging curled fingers into his jaw and the cursed wolf stumbled with the impact. At first the pressure is what registered first, his head pushed to the side as his legs instinctually shuffled to keep him upright. Then came the flare of pain, more of a dull ripple of sensation and he grunted, tasting iron from the clipping of skin against his sharper canines.

Blue eyes flashed with frustration, although Dorin couldn’t really say much in his defense. His tongue poked against the small cut, nostrils flaring as his lips parted with a flash of slowly bloodying teeth. ‘Wipe that fuckin’ smirk offa ya face,’ the human growled, practically standing on top of him with the others flanking around, ‘before I do it for ya.’ Always looking for an excuse to fight. Dorin didn’t think he would have let him walk even if he kept to himself at this point, the dire taking in a deep breath that swelled his chest. If he didn’t know Stanimir he wouldn’t be doing what he was now, and that was tossing an elbow back into one of his crewmate’s faces. The nearest one at his flank, the muffled impact shoving him backwards until he stumbled, chin tilted up and a curse slipping between his teeth. Energy exploded around them, the tension coming to a head, and Dorin was punched again with the motion. This time on the other side of the face, the wolf lashing out with a boot to stomp it down against the outside of Stanimir’s knee. His leg bowed, sending the same knee to the wooden floor as Dorin returned the favor with curled fingers of his own. Knuckles buried themselves into the human’s cheek, knocking him all the way over with the quickness of it.

While the one recovered and Stanimir finished his collapse Dorin was manhandled by the two left untouched, his arms jerked back above the elbows in hopes of keeping them pinned. Dorin’s jaw clenched and his lips curled, silent snarl lingering where it might have been should he have been able to shift. All he did now was struggle, pushing back and shoving his weight into the one who held him and kicking the other in the stomach when he started to close in with the glint of something sharp in his hand. Opposite directions they went, the man at Dorin’s back crashing against the railing until the wood cracked. He grunted with the impact, partially winded, and gave him enough slack to start shrugging him off to gain some much needed space to maneuver.
Away Sis Lautna Apr 3 2020, 9:56 AM
#2
  • Age: 32
  • Gender: Female
  • Race: Dire
  • Rank: Quartermaster
  • Total Posts: 29
  • Played by: G
70 Mana · View All Items?
It'd been a longer journey than she'd anticipated, but it was a relief to be home. Or as close as she got to it without setting foot on her own damn ship, anyways. The thorn in the arch of her foot was dealt with, and while it doubtless wasn't what the Vatican toadies wanted to happen, it worked out just fine for her. A spare ship for whoever wanted to lay claim to it, a crew take her pick of before they scattered to the four winds looking for other employ, and a drink with a friendly face on her way back home. Couldn't get a better ending than that. Well, you could, but not by much. She didn't mind trying, though, and after everything had been squared away at the docks, she'd taken her own leave. They'd be off in the morning, but until then, her time was mostly her own. A message dropped in someone's ear, a purchase for the ship, and a check in on one of her local folk in the depths of Gibrantt, and she was nearly done.

There's a swing to her step as she swung the door open, the hall to the back rooms revealing a scene that certainly hadn't been there when she'd arrived. Stanimir had been there, for sure, a surly greeting the norm for the sour captain. But he'd been minding his damn business, and that didn't seem to be the case any longer. Him and the three men that'd been drinking their way through half the beer on tap were in various states of engagement with-- Ah, she recognized that one, even gotten a message from him there and again, even if his name escaped her at the moment. Scrappy little thing, and her brows rose to see him at the center of this mess. The saying 'don't shoot the messenger' existed for the reason, and while Stanimir was a grumpy bastard, it usually took at least a prod to make him get his hackles up. The fuck was going on here, then?

She was almost content to let it play out, not overly bothered by the idea of an unfair fight, or a soundly delivered beating. They could handle their own damn business, as far as she was concerned. Whoever deserved it didn't really matter, she wasn't their mum. They could figure it out. She went to turn away until she saw the flash of a knife and her hackles went up. There was no need for that kind of shit on Coryzan docks. A beating where someone had earned it? Sure. Holes where somebody didn't need them wasn't called for though, especially in an already stacked fight. She wasn't stupid enough to think that most of them held any loyalty WHATSOEVER, but the very least they could do is play nice until they got back out to sea.

She snapped into motion, more graceful than her bulk would leave people to believe. She worked hard, she'd earned the right to play hard; if anyone was stupid enough to think that made her soft all the way through, that was their mistake. Sis closed in on the one with the knife, only barely starting to climb back to his feet when she reached the rotten little weasel. A fist in his collar helped him up the rest of the way, right before a merciless grip twisted his wrist around with an ugly crack until he dropped it. A howl punctuated her taking the little toy away from him, and she fixed a stony glare on Stanimir and Dorin both. "The FUCK is this about, then?" She shook the one in her grip for emphasis before he was rudely shoved back to the ground, a nasty stare his cue to STAY there. If the other two knew what was good for them, they'd follow suit and cut that shit out. See? She could be nice, she was even giving them a chance to answer before she cracked their heads together and tossed them in the canal for a wake up call.

Offline Dorin Apr 13 2020, 12:33 PM
#3
  • Corzya
  • Age: 27
  • Gender: Male
  • Race: Dire
  • Rank: Howler
  • Total Posts: 33
  • Played by: Isilzheha
485 Mana · View All Items?
Pissing people off came with the territory. The coastal city was filled to the brim with thieves, murderers, rapists, slavers, and other bottom-feeding scum that came here to live out the rest of their usually pathetic lives doing all the shitty things they always had been doing. Stanimir was one of those such people. Dorin liked a good deal of the people here; he very well couldn’t pretend like he wasn’t also one of them with what he had done to land himself here. Still, some were worse than others. Stanimir made it so easy to poke and prod, and Dorin was inclined to take those opportunities just with the way he typically acted when the howler was simply doing his job. Of course, doing that typically meant dealing with the blowback. Which he did now as they tried to hold him down, Dorin freeing himself from the one behind him just long enough to see that Stanimir was correcting himself finally. One of his goons was pushing himself back up also, the one he had seen with the knife, and that kinda pissed him off. That was wildly unnecessary, and the punishment definitely didn’t fit the crime. Not that it ever did if Dorin was to be asked about it.

The dire rolled his shoulders, head turning to the sound of the one at his back pushing away from the broken railing and brushing the splinters from his coat. Boots turned over the floor, the wolf trying to keep them in his sights and waiting for the first move when they gathered themselves enough to lock eyes upon him again. The one with the knife didn’t get a second chance as Stanimir started to close the distance, another figure stepping into the fray to grab the rising lackey by the front of his shirt. Dorin blinked, the dark-haired woman partially turned away from him but he recognized her by scent if nothing else. A familiar one belonging to one of the Helm’s quartermasters, and he might have noticed her earlier if not for the very obvious distraction. He was grinning now with a flash of pointed incisors and canines, especially energized by the outcry of pain and the audible crack of grinding bone.

Sis twisted the brunette’s arm, stealing away the blade he had brandished so boldly against the howler. “Oh, shit,” he laughed as the greenhorn whimpered, almost forgetting about the other three who were shifting awkwardly now. There was hesitation among the two flanking him and the one closer to the wall, Stanimir well on the warpath still even as Sis spoke up. ‘The FUCK is this about, then?’ She shook the man, tossing him back to the floor as Dorin’s shoulders lifted and his lips pursed when the other dire fixed him with a heated glare. His focus drifted to Stanimir before he could even speak, the stern-looking man shoving against Sis with a forceful arm. ‘Ain’t none of yer business, Sis,’ was all he said, and Dorin laughed again. A small chuckle this time, however, as he shook his head. “You really are an idiot.” No sooner did the words leave his mouth did Stanimir swing his fist in a quick arc, the other two unsure of the course of action to take here with the third content to hop in given the opportunity. Dorin blocked the swipe with a jarring shove of his forearm, pulling the strength behind the counter just to give the man an annoying jab with a hand planting on his chest to shove him back. “He just is having a rough night,” Dorin said to Sis, eyes never leaving Stanimir, “clearly.
Away Sis Lautna Apr 19 2020, 3:02 PM
#4
  • Age: 32
  • Gender: Female
  • Race: Dire
  • Rank: Quartermaster
  • Total Posts: 29
  • Played by: G
70 Mana · View All Items?
In the wake of his shove there is no such thing as dead silence. Life went on, things kept moving. The guy by her feet was still whimpering, the other two lugs were still in the middle of picking their stances and Stanimir still apparently thought he was immune to consequences. Her eyes went down to his arm and back up to his face even as he spun away to lay into the howler again (what was his name again? dorian?) Instead of exploding, something amused, something sharp, something shark and curled in at the edges like burnt paper crawled across her face and pretended to be a smile. It's punctuated by the somewhat late realization of what the underdog in this fight had said, a laugh threaded through his words. Her (not) smile widened, sharp teeth and almost shut eyes making an empty mockery of joy.

"Oh, he sure is." It's a premonition more than a comment on his mood, one even the idiots that had backed him up could hear. Half laugh, half snarl, her voice is barbed wire strung with a twinkling laugh and a chuckle that trailed off at the end. There was a flicker of thought that she should let Stanimir see just how far he'd stepped in the shit before she dismissed it. He'd had his chance. Instead, she was all flowing motion and the sharp sudden stop of the final drop. The second and the third of the sorry looking crew are ignored in favour of the offender in her sights and her expression didn't shift once as she swept up behind him. One sharp boot was planted in his rear knee, the way him and Dorin were shoving at each other making it exceedingly easy to take his balance and stability away from him. He crumpled backwards, just enough for her to loop a crushing elbow around his neck and drag him off the other Dire.

Fighting her bulk was like fighting the tide, just as much a conscious choice as an unintended consequence for the hefty lady. One she very much used to her advantage. There's a pair of overall unheeded punches to her side and front, Stanimir's now beet red face creased in fury. If she cared, she'd separate the ringing in her ears from whatever it was he was shouting, but all of her care for whatever it was he had to say had officially gone out the window. In lieu of tolerating his frankly ineffectual strikes, she dumped him on the floor next to his former buddy. If he wanted her to quit, she should've brought more to offer than simply pain. She had.

She followed him down, one knee landing squarely on his stomach and cutting off his squalling by the fact of all the air leaving his chest in a great gust of breath. Finally, peace and quiet. She decided to keep it that way, one strong hand clamping down over his mouth and jerking his head to the side, leaving only one angry eye peering at her. "Stanimir, me an' you used to get along just fine. Let me remind you of why that worked for us. Maybe, just maybe, we can get back to that after we work through this." Short but sharp nails grab an ugly handful of flesh and hair before he got his shit together enough to shove at her again. She curled the sharp fist around his ear and the strands of hair caught in her grip tighter and before anything else was said, puncture wounds turn the nasty grip into the tender flesh being torn from the side of his head in a splatter of blood and shredded flaps of the skin she'd clawed through.

"And next time, think before you fuckin' well escalate. Because I sure the FUCK WILL." Her contemptuous stand is punctuated by a ugly stomp that she used to lay him out flat on his back again. The ear is dropped next to him, shreds of flesh hanging from her nails a grisly reminder of how subtle her real anger was until she was in arm's reach. "Now, let me ask you again. What the fuck is goin' on here?" If he was smart, the answer would be nothing.

Offline Dorin Jun 7 2020, 4:06 PM
#5
  • Corzya
  • Age: 27
  • Gender: Male
  • Race: Dire
  • Rank: Howler
  • Total Posts: 33
  • Played by: Isilzheha
485 Mana · View All Items?
At first the entire debacle had been rather amusing. To a point Dorin felt it would get out of hand as it typically did among the pirates here on Gibrantt, but he hadn’t expected it to happen so quickly. It just showed how truly agitated Stanimir was, and although the howler’s head throbbed with the strikes he’d taken that would no doubt be coloring themselves on his pale skin he was better off than the others. A broken nose, some wounded pride, a twisted up arm. Dorin wasn’t smug about it when Sis joined in and he certainly didn’t think to hide behind the Quartermaster. She didn’t look happy despite the smile that pulled across her lips with a flash of teeth, and seeing as how she interjected herself Dorin wasn’t about to tell her to turn around and leave. She was determined, and that grew into something more when the threat of death or serious injury had been tossed into the mix by an idiot with a knife. Stanimir couldn’t read the room clearly, not with the rage that had fallen to veil his focus. Dorin shoved him back, keeping the one at his flank in his peripheral. That one looked ready to jump back in, Sis agreeing that Stanimir was having a rough go of it.

Then the bastard shoved her, and launched himself at Dorin again. It was like he was deaf and blind now, swinging flailing fists at any sort of noise. Dorin didn’t bother voicing aloud what a mistake it was to displace the other wolf. Instead he focused on restraining the dejected captain rather than laying into him like he absolutely could have. Sis pulled him off, Dorin finding it comical how small he looked in comparison even if he wasn’t the tiniest of the bunch. He kicked at the howler still, Dorin dodging back as he practically spat out a bunch of insults. “So unnecessary. Just give it up,” he chided, Stanimir out for more than just a few punches of revenge at this point. Dorin could see it in his eyes as he tried to pull the woman’s arm from around him. His fists reached back to strike at her face, fingers clawing for her hair or anything else he might be able to gain some leverage with.

She didn’t tolerate it for long when there was enough distance to toss him bodily to the floor. Dorin could see some of the others in the tavern scooting around to make for the stairs. A few stuck around to watch in the darkness of the corners, and Dorin found it further amusing how stunned Stanimir’s people were. His so-called friends and crew. They didn’t move to shove the Quartermaster off, nor did they say anything in his favor when Sis landed a curled knee on his chest. Dorin winced at that, just slightly. His head was shoved to the side, and Dorin stepped closer on the other side flanking the woman and the prone captain who still tried to buck against the weight upon him. ‘Maybe, just maybe, we can get back to that after we work through this.’ From his perspective it was a bit deranged the way Sis snatched at his ear. “Come on,” Dorin said, though nails were already digging in and Stanimir started to yell. “You don’t gotta…” the man grew more shrill then as the cartilage was being peeled off as if it were meant to do that, “do all that.

His voice was drowned by the agonized yelling and the thudding of his heels against the wooden floor. Dorin sighed, arms crossing and gaze pulling away as blood started to rush from the remains of the severed ear. Bits of skin dangled in tags that would need to be cut off further, Dorin grimacing a bit at what he viewed to be a rather unneeded extra step. Stanimir was well subdued now, as was Dorin’s humor about the whole ordeal. Still he tried to stand, not saying anything as he cupped the side of his bleeding head in disbelief. It was less pain now and more bewilderment. He wheezed when Sis shoved him back down, flinching at the drop of the ear that looked sickly now. Dorin shifted his weight from one foot to the other, rubbing at his sore jaw awkwardly. There was a pointed hush in the tavern now, and Stanimir’s men were cautiously starting to move closer opposite Sis to try and collect their captain. ‘Now, let me ask you again. What the fuck is goin' on here?’ Dorin could have claimed responsibility for a portion of it, but definitely not the drawing of a blade in a minor scuffle. Or Stanimir’s relentless nature. Still, he probably shouldn’t have said anything about previous situations. Dorin leaned to Sis a bit, watching as Stanimir was hoisted up. “I don’t think he can hear you,” he said lightly, still looking nonchalant.

I heard her jus’ fine, ya prick,’ Stanimir snapped, eyes leveled on Dorin. ‘I’m calm.’ He shrugged off his men, still holding the side of his head, and it took a long while before his gaze shifted to Sis. He was gauging what he should say next, if anything at all. He didn’t sound calm. This was probably going to bite him in the ass later. Stanimir didn’t even bother answering the question, turning back to the table to gather up whatever he’d left behind and started to head for the exit. The captain did still have somewhere he needed to be. Dorin glanced around the tavern to the faces of those who still watched on, some amused and others hard to read. “Buy you a drink?” he offered finally, his focus finding Sis’ face this time.
Away Sis Lautna Jul 5 2020, 11:24 AM
#6
  • Age: 32
  • Gender: Female
  • Race: Dire
  • Rank: Quartermaster
  • Total Posts: 29
  • Played by: G
70 Mana · View All Items?
The scrappy one (Dorin, that was it!) looked ...uncomfortable, in the aftermath. An uneasy posture, discomfort and dismay written in the way his arms crossed. Defensive, too. One that most of the people that had stuck around mirrored. On pretty much every level, Dorin was right. Unnecessary and absolutely overkill, Stanimir might have taken her point just as well with a half hearted thumping and a warning. Or he might have decided that he could get away with doing what he wanted to his crew and fellow Corzyans.

Sis didn't do things halfway.

Her gaze leveled with Stanimir once he got the guts to look her in the eye once more. Her posture didn't change, still leant back in that easy slouch. But her eyes told a different story, sharp brown holding him in place with an aggressive gleam. Blow for blow, hurt for hurt. If he was going to throw his weight around and hurt those under him for no good reason, there would be consequences. And Sis wasn’t too proud to stoop to his level and show him how it felt with no second thoughts or regret. Her gaze widened, brow creased and jaw stiff with a contained snarl until he turned away. The lack of a response wasn't ideal and she frowned deeply as him and his crew trailed out of the bar.

Might need to follow up on that at a later date. Not here, not though. For now, it was back to something approaching peace. Absentmindedly, she scraped her fingers against her palm, the blood just beginning to tack on her skin. Not a huge issue, but not exactly ideal, either. She shifted a step back and leaned over the counter to wash her hand in the rough basin the bartender kept behind it, one eye still on Dorin. He kept his composure well enough, that was for sure. Especially since they’d have given him a shitty day in the very best of scenarios.

The offer came just as the water flow stopped, only faint red stains under her nails left. She cocked a brow before shaking her head. “If anyone here gets a drink bought for them, It’s you.” Heedless of any possible response, Sis waved the still squirrelly barkeep with a short, bitter bark of a laugh and a request for a pair of glasses. One for him, one for her.

“You got anywhere else you need to be tonight?" Behind her gaze, there was something….curious. Just shy of concerned, a mild pique of interest that raised her brows in an examining glance. He was still guarded, but he hadn’t been all that shocked, either. The larger dire wasn’t dumb enough to think that these sorts of altercations didn’t happen. Fuck, she was a perfect example. But for the most part, if she found it, she nipped it in the bud. Especially when it was someone picking on a lower ranked member. Or a three on one knife fight. Both?

Unacceptable.