The Bloody Shiv <The Fetters: Shadow District>
Narrow and long, and lit with a pair of thick, (allegedly) bloodwood torches, this makeshift tavern features three long, oval tables, each carved and burned to Shadow and back. Near the back and caked in shadows is the bar proper, its front made up of hammered-flat sections of rusted Blades armor, and its top made of new-looking oak. Mounted on the wall is the namesake of the bar, a tiny shiv of blackened elk antler, rumored to have killed Ullan Nillu, the Second Blademaster in the time of Talus VII. It has been through several fires since then, but the shiv has always been recovered. The floors, little more than nailed-down planks, creak warily underfoot, and the place smells of potatograss smoke and harsh, spilled liquor. A sturdy-looking oaken door leads outside.
Bludge sits at the second table, tiny eyes shifting from the bar, then to the door, then down to the pouch at his waist. His lip quivers below a row of thinned, multicolored teeth, and his hands keep flitting down to something he holds in his lap.
Amist the gathering of patrons of the Bloody Shiv, there are three men in black studded leather scattered about, all off doing their own thing. One leans against the bar sipping from a small brown glass bottle, another at table scratching things into the wood with a knife, and a third dicing with a few individuals.
Diorsalus pushes the sturdy oaken door open, his cloaked body accepting the light into it's grasp without prejudice. His face is horridly pale, yet, shrouded within shadow from his cowl. His eyes peer into the Tavern with disregard for most everything breathing, aside from one man, Bludge. His eyes didn't take long to find him. He walks toward the table and he takes the seat, quickly, trying not to be noticed till he does.
Bludge swallows noisily, his left hand going to feel at a bulge under his tunic, sighing in slight relief before looking back towards the door. He notices the black-shrouded man enter, looking him over nervously, his leg twitching up and down under the table.
There's some movement from the three about the room. Specifically, the man by the bar starts over to the table as well, a noticable stumble to his walk, and he draws a chair to plop down with them. The smell of alcohol is on his breath, and he grins at the pair, seeming ready to fall off the seat.
Diorsalus looks over to Tahnin and then his two companions. His gaze quickly juts back to Bludge, though. "Muscle, huh? I'm looking for something I hear you sell, is all," he says in a deep, raspy voice, a low tone, hard to hear if you don't listen nice and hard.
"An-an-an who are you?" the jittery man asks defiantly. "Are you the one *he* sent af-af-after me?" Both hands go under the table. "I-if you are, I-I ain't got nothin' to sell t'you."
"Mushhle?" Tahnin slurs, lifting the brown bottle again, but succeeding in getting more of it on his jerkin than in his mouth. He smiles again, rather out of character for him, but then again, this isn't an everday occurance. To Diorsalus: "You look like shumone I know..." he states, reaching to try to tug the hood back.
Diorsalus beats the man to it, pulling his cowl away from his ivory hairless crown. He snarls a little and then, while keeping his eyes on Bludge squints. "Who? -- That baffoon? -- Send /me/?" Diorsalus asks as he gestures toward his chest. "He's a peon, a shading peon. I'm the business man, a business man - and you *WILL* sell to me. You'll regret objecting that, too, by the way," he warns.
Bludge shrinks back from the pale, bald visage, looking left and right as if looking for an exit strategy. "Wh-wh-what if I told you I-I don't have any more? Th-they're hard to get, y'know. Real hard to get. S-s-so I can't exactly s-s-sell it to you, can I?" He pulls back a little, and a length of wood can be seen sitting on his lap.
"Shhey...what happened to you, huh? Fall in a fire? Looks shumething like the crotch of a preisht," Tahnin blurts loudly with a laugh, looking a bit closer at the man's face. A dice throw goes a bit wild from the group gaming, rolling over towards the table where the three sit, and with groans and curses, the man in leather rises with an embarrased and almost toothless grin, going after it.
Diorsalus frowns standing up from his chair at their responces. "Fuck this!" he yells with a snarl. "You'll regret this," he threatens before walking toward the door.
Bludge watches the man stand, and looks at Tahnin, pointing towards the pale, bald man and speaking in a harsh, hushed tone. "S-so what are you waiting f-f-for? K-kill 'im! Oth-otherwise, you'll be waiting a-a-another month 'r two!" His face twitches anxiously.
Bludge apparently got ahead of Tahnin. All smiles and traces of drunkenness fade from his face as he shoves himself up from the chair, going and taking a lunge at Diorsalus' back, trying to tackle him to the ground. The man carving on the table in the corner rises as well, making all speed towards the two, while the tall man retrieving the dice rushes to block the door.
Diorsalus is gripped at the shins, his thin, bony legs throbbing from the impact, already. He snarls and reaches for his Katar, which is in his cloak, under a few folds.
Bludge rises to his feet, gripping the cudgel in both hands, but hanging back out of swinging range. "N-nobody threatens m-my life and g-g-gets away with it!" he shouts with a mixture of anger, fear, and excitement, his tiny eyes wide.
Reaching the door, the brigand turns about to watch the struggling, drawing his steel from his waist, and holding his shortsword ready. He grins at the sight, chuckling quietly. The knifer, meanwhile, draws a katar from his belt, holding it at ready as he works to shove past people. "Stop fucking around, Raven," he barks.
Tahnin grunts and gives a good yank at the bony ankles, trying to scramble to get his own legs underneath him. Laying on the ground in a fight generally isn't a healthy thing to do.
Diorsalus growls, "Let go!" He's clearly upset he was caught of guard as he bends over, trying to stab at Tahnin's hands and wrists, failing.
Bludge remains outside of attacking distance, watching eagerly as the fight unfolds, the tip of the cudgel pressed against his lips in anxiousness.
Twisting about, while still gripping Diorsalus' legs, Tahnin manages to avoid getting his wrists cut by the slashing katar. The brigand by the door hoots in amusement at the entire situation. "If you broke my bottle, Raven, you're buying me a new one, hear me?" he jokes.
In a situation where he has some leverage again, Tahnin leans backwards abruptly, trying to pull Diorsalus' legs right out from underneath him. The knifer reaches the pair, slashing out with the gold katar.
The blades graze each other and then *CLING*, they hit. Diorsalus easily parries the attack before he is nearly toppled over, but not quite. He manages to stay upright and attempts to stab the Knifer, while he's in front of him.
Bludge begins to swing his cudgel down into his other hand over and over nervously. "Wh-wh-what are you d-d-doing? Kill him!" he cries out to the trio frustratedly, his downswings growing more and more violent. His shoulders shake, and he slouches even further.
The knifer twists out his arm, catching the Diorsalus' katar with his parrying knife, and deflecting the blow. He grits his teeth and sends both blades arcing in at the bony man.
The brigand, meanwhile, shakes his head and storms forward from the door. "You're both damned incompetent, that's what," he growls, blade held in front of him, and thrusting the shortsword at Diorsalus. Tahnin, or Raven as he was repeatedly called, gives another yank on Diorsalus' ankles, still trying to get him on the ground.
"Curses! Shades!" Diorsalus yells as he succedes in parring one attack and not another, being stabbed in his left arm. Crimson liquid escapes the wound, but Diorsalus manages to remain upright as he's being pulled at at the legs. He growls and throws himself back trying to fall behind Tahnin to get an edge.
Bludge begins to move a bit closer to the action as both main actors go down to the floor. "Get 'im! Get 'im!" he shouts in bloodlust, waving his cudgel about like a woody pompom. "Make 'em bloody!"
Tahnin makes a surprised noise as he suddenly finds himself stuck underneath the man he was trying to throw down. Funny how things work out. Anyway, there's not all that much he can do, aside from cursing. And curse he does!
The brigand and knifer glance quickly to each other, sharing a nod, before moving in together. Mindful of their partner lying underneath, they both lash out with their weapons.
Diorsalus catches both blows without much of a defense. He eases out a breath as blood covers his chest and arm. His eyes flutter and he passes out, right atop Tahnin. His body is light, perhaps 85 or 90 pounds, however.
"If you don't get him off of me..." Tahnin growls from underneath the still, bleeding body. The two standing men laugh at that, the brigand putting away his shortsword and hefting Diorsalus' body up, throwing him over his shoulder. "Out he goes, with the trash," he snorts, carrying him to and out the door, and pitching him over the railing, leaving him to the long fall to the ground below. With a loud thud, the limp body strikes the ground, landing partly in some type of liquid better left unsaid.
Tahnin rises to his feet, looking over to Bludge, and gesturing sharply for him to follow, as he and the knifer both make their way to the door.
Bludge follows Tahnin eagerly, licking his lips once. "I-I-is he dead?" he asks with baited breath.
"No way he'd take that fall," the brigand hoots, looking over to Bludge. "If he didn't bleed to death right on the way down, probably broke his back or neck or something."
Tahnin spits over the railing, as he and his two partners begin to head off. "Have to move to a safer place. You're coming with us." The last part is directed to Bludge.
Bludge follows slowly, but his eyes wrench up in confusion. "B-but he-he's gone now..." he prompts. "Wh-why..."
"We want more of your little fruit," murmurs the knifer, his step quickening a touch. "Don't get jumpy. We'll pay you for it. Won't even ask you where you got it from, either."
"An we gotta g-go somewhere else f-fer that?" Bludge asks as he follows obediantly, cudgel still at his side, smacking against his thigh as he walks.
"Stay round, if you want," the brigand chimes in, tossing an amused leer at Bludge. "Once people start trying to find about what happened, sure they'll just leave you alone if you ask nicely."
Bludge frowns at this, shuffling more quickly after them. "F-fine. F-fine. Where, then?" he asks nervously, looking the three ruffians over.
"Back to the Noose," Tahnin instructs, glancing briefly to his partners, who nod their consensus.
"That'll do for now," nods the brigand. "Can't wait to leave this shithole."