First Impressions...

[Kyvvan68]

The tavern was hot.

 

The midday heat had all but dissipated as the promise of a cool evening was close. Even so, Thanalan’s desert heat seemed reluctant to give up completely as the single room building remained brutally warm and less than aromatic. The wind that blew through the open door was hot and smelled of the local industry making the location one only the desperate found comfortable.

 

Tavern would have been a very generous term in most locales. When the Alliance armies started filtering into the region, one industrious soul named Kern established the watering hole in the hopes of making a fortune. While he had managed to make a living, a fortune was something that he would never make as the transient nature of the armies made building any reliable clientele little more than a hit or miss opportunity. Still, the nameless hovel was still in business despite the difficulties of running any sort of business in what was widely considered a war zone.

 

Today for example, the room was all but empty. Sitting at a table in the darkest corner of the tavern was a lone man. Garbed lightly in sturdy, if somewhat disheveled leathers, the man was clearly a sellsword based on the fact that a long blade that normally hung from a belt over his shoulder lay nearby looked well used and equally cared for. Tall and powerfully built, the man’s features were currently hidden behind his mussed hair casting them into even deeper shadows than the corner had offered. Occasionally, dark eyes would flit towards the door as if the man was waiting for something though Kern had long since determined that the man wouldn’t notice anything given his current state.

 

It wouldn’t have taken a keen eye to notice the man had been drinking… lots. Empty mugs littered the top of his table and the nearly untouched meal spoke volumes as to the man’s real reason for being at the tavern. Kern had stopped counting after the man’s fifteenth drink and now he was counting the moments until the man toppled from his chair.

 

Sandor had come into the tavern hours ago looking to drink away the memory of the events of the past day. A disastrous foray into Mor Dhona had resulted in the death of his employer and the loss of any pay he may have received for a completed job. With almost no coin left to his name, he was now considering a future of watching caravans for scraps and his mood had grown ever sourer as the drinks kept coming.

 

It was now several hours since he’d arrived, and his drunken mind had been wandering for some time. Those more observant than the ones who may have noticed he’d been drinking may have noticed that Sandor had been almost staring at an object in his right hand for the better part of the last hour. The object appeared to me a medal of some sort though it’s exact origin would be difficult to determine without a better look. Given the reputation of the man holding it, many would simply assume that he come into possession of it through means less than honorable.

 

Kern realized he was staring again only when Sandor moved. The barkeep started slightly as the mercenary uttered a sound that was somewhere between a sigh and a grunt and drained the last of his drink before waving absently with the empty mug and speaking in a heavily slurred voice.

 

“Gimme ‘nother,” came the barely articulate growl. Kern scrambled to fulfil the order wondering just how the man was still upright. Despite his desire to turn the man out, Sandor still presented as a dangerous one and Kern was too wary to do anything unless there was someone around to back him up.  

 

“Ser. Are you sure-…” the sideways glare from Sandor halted any further comment. Kern hurriedly moved away almost grimacing when, Sandor drained his mug on one long pull and demanded yet another. Even as he rushed to fill a new mug, he marveled how fortune had seen to it that the entire barracks had been absent from the settlement all afternoon. Alone for the Twelve knew how long, he’d all but resigned himself to having to serve this dark stranger all night.

 

The sound of approaching voices brought a glimmer of hope to the barkeep face. The smile that had come to his lips paused and then faded as a group of seven men, more sellswords by the looks of them, piled into the tavern speaking and laughing loudly. I was immediately clear that they’d also been drinking. Any hope for a reprieve died before it was fully born as the leader of the group, a hulking and rather homely Roegadyn spied Sandor in the corner and barked out a cruel sounding laugh.

 

“Ha!” the other men turned and looked over at the corner curiously. One of the men, younger by several years than the others, gasped and scrambled to draw his sword but the leader offered a calming hand and laughed again before speaking. “There, there lad! That’s our good mate Sandor,” he said without a hint of warmth in his voice. “Got no quarrel wit ‘im, ain’t that right boys? After all, we already killed his master and we all know Sandor don’t do nothing wi’out getting paid!”

 

With a round of derisive laughter, the men turned from Sandor and took seats near the door. Kern found himself slightly busy for a little while as his new patrons wanted food along with their drink and he had to head out to the kitchen to get the men fed. Muttering a quick thanks for the reprieve along with a prayer that nothing happened while he was gone, he hustled out in the cool evening.

 

Several minutes later found Kern returning to a scene that almost made his heart stop. One of the toughs was standing over Sandor openly deriding him. “I thought you was supposed to be summin special,” the man was saying. Tall and powerfully built, the man was as homely as anyone Kern had even seen with an impressive array of missing teeth and heavily pockmarked skin. Dark, almost black eyes held a furtive aspect adding to his unpleasant appearance. “All I see here is a drunk who let his boss get killed!”

 

It happed too fast for Kern to have actually process it. The man leaned ion towards Sandor apparently intending to strike him but, lightning quick, Sandor grabbed a strap in the man’s armor and yanked down. Unbalanced as he was, the man was unable to slow the descent as his face slammed into the top of the table with enough force that the strap for his breastplate snapped. The sound of the man’s head slamming into the table was loud enough to be heard over the crash of the empty mugs. The man almost did a backflip as his backward momentum brought him crashing to the floor in a boneless heap.

 

Kern’s voice calling for no violence went unheard as the six men scrabbled to their feet drawing weapons and shouting in alarm. For his own part, Sandor staggered to his own feet though it was clear that he was as unsteady as one might imagine. As the men jostled for position Sandor finally addressed them in a voice that held no small edge of menace.

 

“Tuco,” Sandor swayed dangerously as if he were about to topple over. Kern watched holding his breath certain that he would and that the one named Tuco would gut him then turn on any witnesses. The dark thought was interrupted when Sandor continued.

 

“I let you live today… all of you. Gather your man and move on. I won’t ask again.”

 

Even as he spoke, Tuco and the others seemed poised to attack…

 

 

[Reyukka]

"Thank you for the ride Zak." Reijna said as she climbed out of a supply wagon. The driver had been kind enough to take her along with him when he saw her asking around for directions, however, this was his destination. 

 

"It's not a problem. Now, the tavern is over there. The owner is a man by the name of Kern. Not many 'round here are trustworthy, but Kern is. He can help ya with a room for tonight." Zak dipped his head to indicate the direction and waited till she began heading that direction before driving off.  

 

Excitement and anxiety danced in her chest with each step she took towards the tavern. The feeling wasn't new to her, but the longer she was away from home, the more she grew use to it. With a soft exhale she opened the tavern door just in time to hear Kern yell for no violence and the sound of weapons being drawn. She turned to find a man, clearly drunk and unsteady, facing a group of men. 

 

Without thinking, she dropped her things and ran in between the men and the singular drunk man. Her back was to him as she faced the group of men, arms spread out as though to protect the man behind her. 

 

"Whoa whoa whoa.. Don't you think this would be a bit of an unfair fight? I mean look at this man. He can barely stand. And he's alone. Why don't you wait till he sobers up at least?" 

 

[Kyvvan68]

“…?”

 

Sandor’s threat was serious, and he was hoping beyond all hopes that Tuco and his band of thugs would ignore it thinking that he was too drunk to take them on. True, he was close to passing out, but he’d been trained by the best and, even trashed as he was, he was more than a match for the six men now looking for room to maneuver for a brawl. A broad grin that held nothing but menace split his features and the look that he darted towards the barkeep froze the man in his tracks as he’d been about to sprint out into the street and start screaming for help.

 

He had to give the ugly Roe credit however for, despite his state, Tuco had not ordered or begun an attack. There was a cunning glint in the much larger man’s eye as he studied Sandor as if he knew this was fight he could not win.

 

The pregnant pause after Sandor’s threat seemed to go on forever. The thugs arrayed against him started looking back and for the between each other nervously as their desire for a fight was replaced by worry that they were about to get one. Just as one of the men was about to move a young woman moved between the two sides…

 

22 hours ago, Reyukka said:

"Whoa whoa whoa.. Don't you think this would be a bit of an unfair fight? I mean look at this man. He can barely stand. And he's alone. Why don't you wait till he sobers up at least?" 

 

There was another moment of silence where the only sound was a strangled gasp from the barkeep. A faint, half-whispered “No miss… please!” was followed almost immediately by the raucous laughter of Tuco and four of his remaining men. One of the men, a sour faced and unpleasant lout named Hedrik was still eyeing Sandor as if calculating the possibility of getting in a strong enough first shot to take the drunk man out.

 

For his own part, Sandor looked suitable shocked by the young woman’s intervention. His eyes took in the site of the tall, well-formed woman who, upon closed examination was clearly not human. He’d never met a Viera before but he’d traveled enough to have heard tales but he’d never expected to run into one here of all places. After a moment where his took in the admittedly attractive posterior, he returned his attentions to the other men. His ire had been brought up and other thoughts, even carnal ones, were only a distraction.

 

Moving quickly, and more surely than one might have expected given his inebriated stat, Sandor deftly placed himself before the woman. His right hand moved around her waist and guided her gently but firmly back a pace as he spoke in the same drunken tone.

 

“If only you’d ha’ come in first darlin’,” he said with a backwards glance and a roguelike grin. “Doan worry though…. I promise to save a dance fer…!”

 

Whatever Sandor was saying went unfinished as, with a savage howl, Hedrik charged forward and unleashed a wild haymaker punch that fairly whistled as it careened towards Sandor who’d started to turn back to his opponents. The blow caught him in the jaw and sent him spinning into the young woman where, the drunken mercenary hands, on their own purely innocent volition mind you, reached out to steady him and found the only place available for him to grab onto.

 

Sandor couldn’t help but grin and he looked down and noticed that each hand was placed squarely on each his defender’s breasts. In the moment of silence that followed, he stared for a moment then looked up into the woman’s eyes and offered a wink.

 

((OOC: I know. Total rip off, but I find the image to be quite humorous. And remember… this is supposed to be a bad first impression!))

[Reyukka]

There was a moment of silence before the men in front of her began laughing. That struck a nerve. She began to take a step forward as she started to tell each and every one of them where they could shove those weapons when she felt an arm go around her waist and pull her backwards. The shock of it made her forget what she was about to say, effectively shutting her up. 

 

Reijna started to speak again but her voice halted when she looked up into his eyes. The drunkard was surprisingly handsome, however she could barely understand what it was he was saying due to the drunken slur. 

 

Quote

1 hour ago, Kyvvan68 said:

“If only you’d ha’ come in first darlin’,” he said with a backwards glance and a roguelike grin. “Doan worry though…. I promise to save a dance fer…!”

 

 

And with that a punch to his jaw sent both backwards. The only thing that kept them from falling to the ground was the table the man had been sitting at. Time seemed to pause for a second as everything seemed to fall into place. 

 

There she stood, leaned backward over a table with her arms supporting her. The man she had just been trying to defend learned slightly over her with a hand placed firmly on each breast. Once the second had passed, her left leg twitched as she almost instinctively kneed him in the groin. She stopped herself, though, with two thoughts in mind. First, he couldn't have planned that punch, nor could he have planned to fall this way and two..... the man was drunk. He probably didn't even realize what he was grabbing. 

 

And then... he winked at her.

 

Reijna's cheeks reddened both in embarrassment and anger. She started for the knife on her left boot, but quickly realized that was out of the question in the current position both of them were in. So instead she went for the knee to the groin she had initially stopped herself from doing. She hoped that it would make it's mark, especially with the amount of force she was putting into it, however even if it didn't.. At least his hands would be off of her.

[Kyvvan68]

The punch had hurt… a lot but Sandor had been hit harder and he’d managed to keep his wits, so much as they were at the moment by concentrating on what was on hand at the moment. Any “whitty” remark that he might have come up with as he slowly began to realize that he was not moving his hands from their wildly inappropriate position was lost when the young woman’s eyes suddenly flashed dangerously. He had a brief moment to note that she hadn’t gone for the knife in her boot while he marveled at the fact that he was still groping her. Not going for the knife was a good thing but that meant that she was likely about to do somethi-…

 

Sandor grunted in pain as the woman’s knee found it’s mark. His armor deflected most of the real damage but enough force was behind the blow to stagger him. While the laughter from Tuco and his men continued, Hedrik seemed more than willing to press his perceived advantage stepping in to unleash a wild over handed punch that caught Sandor in the jaw again driving him to a knee and causing him to spit up what seemed a rather alarming amount of blood.

 

“He, he… hicc.. He,” he muttered a couple of less than polite words under his breath as Hedrik paused as if expecting Sandor to collapse. Though his eyes crossed for a moment, the drunken mercenary managed to keep conscious even managing to speak in a louder voice. “Okay, okay… so maybe the wink wasn’ aprprite’ but damn don’t you have a nice set on’ye!”

 

Hedrik moved forward looking for all intents and purposes as if he were going to go for a kill shot. Both hands were clasped together over his head as he was set to bring them crashing down onto Sandor with enough force to seriously injure or maybe even kill him. Even as Tuco’s features flashed in alarm and the hulking mercenary shouted a warning, Sandor was moving.

 

A devastating uppercut from his kneeling position caught Hedrik in the same spot as the knee had caught Sandor. Unfortunately for the younger man, he was not wearing anything to protect his manhood and the blow had an immediate effect. As he doubled over with a gurgling whine, Sandor leaned forward and suddenly sprang up throwing his head back to slam into Hedriks’ descending face. Bone cracked and several of Hedrik’s teeth scattered into the air as he crashed to the floor.

 

Sandor’s momentum had actually caused him jump a little and, when he landed, he was gratified to realize that he’d only staggered a little as he called back over his shoulder. “Doan worry miss! ‘got this!”

 

Tuco and the others had seen enough, with an inarticulate roar, the Roe drew his sword and charged followed closely by his men. Sandor was still lightning quick and he sidestepped a wild lunge from Tuco deflecting it just enough so that it didn’t strike the woman what was still behind him. Due to the small space, the men had almost no room to wield their swords giving the unarmed Sandor a rather large advantage. Grabbing Tuco’s sword wrist, Sandor dropped to a knee pulling the much larger man forward into an unbalance position. As Tuco reared back expecting a repeat of the maneuver that had put Hedrik down, Sandor instead stayed crouched low and pivoted on one heel as he extended his other leg out to sweep Tuco’s legs out from under him.

 

As Tuco tumbled into the three men on his left the four found themselves tangled up allowing Sandor to focus on the one who’d been to the right of their hulking leader. A quick left jab caught the man in the throat forcing him back as he clutched his neck seeking to regain his breath. Sandor pressed forward with right, left, right combo to the man’s body before putting the man down with an almost perfectly executed roundhouse kick that he would have seemed incapable of only moments before.

 

Turning back towards the young Viera, Sandor called over in an irritated tone.

 

“Hey darlin’,” his voice was still slurred but not as sloppy sounding as before. “Why doan y’make yerself useful…. An’ fetch me ‘nother ale!”

[Reyukka]

As the man stumbled back from her blow, Reijna stood straight and readied herself to launch into attack mode and beat him senseless... However.... Someone beat her to it. In the mere seconds it had taken her to straighten, the man received another blow to the face. She winced in sympathy from the blood and was almost expecting his tongue to fall out of his mouth from biting it off. She heard some mutters and was both relieved and annoyed he hadn't bitten his tongue off.

 

21 minutes ago, Kyvvan68 said:

“Okay, okay… so maybe the wink wasn’ aprprite’ but damn don’t you have a nice set on’ye!”

 

Her face grew redder at his remark, but the anger quickly evaporated as she saw his main assailant going in for the kill. She drew her knife and had it poised and ready to fly but the highlander was only seconds faster. His efficiency at taking out his attacker piqued her curiosity and so she decided to let the men fight. Sheathing her knife, Reijna hoisted herself backwards to sit in the tabletop and watch. 

 

The man was skillful in his attack and, if he wasn't crude and didn't so obviously live in the bottle, she would have found his battle efficiency attractive. This was obviously a man use to a battlefield,  where as she was more suited to the hunt. Not to say she wasn't skillful in face to face combat, she was just better at stealth. 

 

It wasn't long before he took out the final five assailants. The poor tavern had blood all over the floor.. and most of it was his. With a sigh, she hopped down off the table that she had only just made herself comfortable on and began to head towards the man she assumed was Kern when a voice called out.

 

40 minutes ago, Kyvvan68 said:

“Hey darlin’,” his voice was still slurred but not as sloppy sounding as before. “Why doan y’make yerself useful…. An’ fetch me ‘nother ale!”

 

Reijna froze mid step and slowly turned towards him. Her lips curved into a seductive smile though her eyes reflected a murderous intent. She took slow steps towards him, intentionally swinging her hips slightly with each movement. 

 

"You want me to fetch you another ale, sir?" She said breathily upon reaching him. In a flash, she grabbed the neck of his armor and yanked hard. 

 

"Do I look like your mother?! I won't be fetching anything for you. And for that matter you don't need another ale. Given the hits you took, what you need is a healer! Now go sit down and shut up." She let go of him before returning to her previous path to Kern. 

[Kyvvan68]

“Sandor…” Kern stammered out the still weaving mercenary’s name as the young woman turned her ire back towards him. The barkeep said the name three more times as Reijna sauntered over and grabbed Sandor by front of his collar and jerked him forward and off balance. He uttered a last strangled gasp as Sandor was shoved back to stagger three steps before coming to a seat, hard, on one of the few chars that had managed to remain standing during the brief fight. With a sigh he resigned himself to whatever fate held in store for him once all of this was over.

 

Sandor’s dark eyes flashed dangerously as he managed to keep himself upright and looked at the woman. She’d seemed to be nothing more than a slip of a girl but there was strength there that was surprising and the fire in her eyes when he’d made her angry intrigued him. He still had the fire in his own belly for a fight and, for a moment, it looked as if he was going to continue by testing her mettle instead of finishing off Tuco and his men. Just as it looked as if was going to jump up and start the fight all over, Sandor blinked and his whole posture relaxed.

 

“Fair ‘nuff,” he muttered in a not unfriendly tone. He turned and looked down at Hedrik’s unconscious form with a grunt of satisfaction and was about to say something else when he noticed that Tuco and the rest of his men were gone!

 

“Dammit Kern!” he howled surging back to his feet realizing as he did so that Reijna was right, he was in no shape to fight, not anymore today at least. Staggering three steps towards the much smaller man who looked partly terrified and partly amused at the same time, he waved vaguely towards the universe in general before continuing. “Ye’ had one job, keep ‘em here and you blew it! I thought we ‘ad a plan!”

 

“Wha-!?” Kern sputtered out a string of babble before finding his voice, however plaintive it was. “I tried to warn you but you were so busy fooling around with the young miss, er beggin m’lady’s pardon… that I couldn’t get your attention!”

 

As Kern reddened at his inappropriate singling out of Reijna. Sandor turned and regarded the young woman with a critical eye. Sure, he’d been a little taken aback by her untimely arrival but distracted? No, he was sure that he’d been as focused on the plan to kill Tuco for his former employer’s murder as he’d been when he’d approached the barkeep the day prior. He’d taken a punch to make sure that she was not injured and, well he had grabbed her breasts, that was kind of uncalled for but he’d paid a price for that gaff as well. Still, maybe the barkeep was right, maybe he hadn’t been as focused, too many drinks perhaps…

 

Kern continued bringing Sandor back from his musing. “The plan was, if I recall, to was to challenge an overconfident then lure him outside Tuco to kill him on the street. Thus avoiding…. This!”

 

Sandor turned and swept the room with the practiced eye of a highly trained warrior, the highly trained warrior with a concussion and far too much drink. As far as fights went, this one wasn’t so bad. Chairs got strewn about the floor and one of the tables had been damaged but, aside from some blood on the floor and the three unconscious men, there was little sign of the fight anywhere.

 

“Bah,” Sandor’s’ inarticulate reply came with another odd wave of his hand. “Tis nothin’ Kern! Ain’t nobody even died and I paid you fer damages already!”

 

The barkeep uttered an exasperated sigh before shaking his head and speaking in a more conciliatory tone. “What’s done is done Sandor, Now why don’t you follow the lady’s instructions and sit down before you fall down. I’ll fetch you something to eat and see if can’t send someone to the garrison to bring a chirurgeon to look at that head of yours.”

 

As Sandor staggered back to his table all the ease that he’d moved with during the fight seemed gone as the adrenaline faded. Kern looked towards the woman and offered a welcoming smile. “We thank you miss,” a glare oved towards the mercenary’s direction as Sandor called over something about him not being appreciative of her interference. “We do appreciate your help against that band of cutthroats and, if you’re still in need of food and drink, whatever I can give you is on the house.”

 

Sandor grumbled something under his breath about letting Tuco and the others get away. He knew he was too far gone now the catch up with them, hell they were probably half way to Black Brush by now and, if they had ant sense, they’d keep running until they hit Vesper Bay and were on a ship to anywhere that wasn’t readily accessible. Returning to his seat, he glowered at the unconscious forms of the men he’d taken out for a minute before noticing the medal that was lying on the floor among the debris. A strange look, maybe one of guilt or shame, flashed across his features and he bent down and scooped the medal up and quickly placed it in a pouch on his belt.

 

Clearly, he didn’t want anyone to get too good a look at it…

 

 

[Reyukka]

Reijna paused in her stride to Kern as the two men began conversing. So it had been planned and all she did was interrupt. With a scoff she turned and quickly strode to her discarded bags and scooped them up. She had planned on apologizing for not being of much help in stopping the fight but now that she knew...

 

"Thanks but I don't take charity. I had planned on asking where I might stay for the night but given the locals.." she said with a pointed glare first at the unconscious men and then to Sandor, "I don't believe I'd be able to rest peacefully." 

 

With that said, she went to a table and set her belongings atop it before she set the chairs that went with it upright. 

 

"A map might be nice too, if you happen to have one." 

 

Once the chairs were upright, Reijna sat down and crossed her arms. Her flower once again fell on Sandor only to see him bend over and pick up something that glinted slightly from the light between his fingers. She sat in silence for a moment, contemplating on whether to ask him about it but his expression, while only brief, gave her pause. She chose instead to look back at Kern, her expression much less fierce than it had been since entering, and simply pretended she hadn't seen. 

 

"Just a few slices of bread would be fine. I have no appetite any longer, but I'm sure I should eat at least something." With her anger having faded, her voice was also much gentler as she spoke.

[Kyvvan68]

Kern offered a resigned nod before glancing over towards Sandor who seemed disinclined to offer any comment, at least for the moment. While new customers where rare and he would have raged about once being chased off, he had to admit that he was as much to blame for the ill-conceived plan as the mercenary was. He agreed that Tuco needed to put down like the rabid dog that he was, but it was truly a shame that the woman had come along when she had and got swept up into things.

 

“Of course, young miss,” he replied with a sigh. “Right away miss…”

 

He turned and made his way hastily out the door heading towards the kitchens of his home that stood across the small throughway that served as a road. After a few moments silence descended on the small tavern as Sandor remained in his seat studying something only he could see in the corner of the room. After a couple f minutes, he rose from his seat with grunt and started towards the still un-moving form of Hedrik. Confident that the man would be out for a while, he bent down and grabbed the unconscious mercenary by the front of his tunic and levered him up into an over the shoulder carry. Huffing not out of strain but knowing that he was probably too drunk to do this for very long, he carried Hedrick to the door and out into the front of the building where he deposited the body gently to the ground.

 

Returning to the tavern, he said to nobody in particular. “Should a’least take out th’garbage…” Staggering a step as his strength was fading quickly, he turned and started towards the third man he’d pummeled who was starting to stir. He hauled the man up to his feet and started walking the barely aware former opponent to the door shaking his head as the man asked.

 

“What happened! Did we win?”

 

Sandor murmured something to the man in a barely audible voice who slowly seemed to realize that the man who’d so easily beaten him only a few moments before was the one who was keeping him steady. Eyes widening in surprise, he paled as he likely assumed that the same thing was about to happen. Fortunately, all Sandor did was escort him to his the final unconscious man and reply in a voice that dripped with menace.

 

“No, you didn’t. Now get yer friend here, and th’scum outside and leave this village. In 24 hours, I see any o’you anywhere near Ul’dah, I’ll kill you…”

 

The man didn’t; need to be told twice. With a frantic cry, he knelt and started to haul the man up who was only now barely beginning to stir. After a few minutes the pair managed to get to their feet and started out into the now cool evening. Sandor stood glowering at the departing men and, after they faded from view, the empty portal for several long minutes before eventually turning to scan the room with a critical eye. Without a glance towards Reijna, he started moving about the room picking up the scattered mugs and plates doing his best to clean up the mess that had been made during the brief scuffle.

 

At ne point, he paused and waved a hand towards the door and spoke. “There’s a mill out that way ‘bout half a maim from ‘ere. It’s clean and warm but, best’ve all, it’s safe. Th’ miller’s a good man and the price to crash is fair.”

[Reyukka]

 Reijna gave a slight nod to Kern as he headed off. The silence that followed felt awkward to her as she sat in the room with multiple unconscious men and one beat up and haggard conscious one. Why hadn't she left after the incident? It would be a lot better than sitting here in silence. From the corner of her eyes she examined Sandor. He seemed pretty roughed up. Had she interfered in such a way that the injuries he suffered could be blamed on her? No, he was drunk enough that he probably would have been hurt regardless. 

 

The movements seemed simultaneous as Sandor stood and Reijna turned to her bag and reached in to grab something. It startled her only slightly as she looked up to see him carrying one of the men on his shoulder. 

 

"Are you sure you should be..." her voice came out soft, probably too soft for him to hear. Once he returned and made his remark, she simply rolled her eyes and muttered under her breath something along the lines of asking if he was sure he shouldn't be taken out too, then. Guilt washed over her after the remark as she watched. She could see the slight shake of his body as his strength waned. 

 

She found what she was looking for, a salve in a pale green glass container. The container had designs shaped like a forest painted all across it with what appeared to be a path of flowers painted across the forest floor. A soft, sad smile appeared upon her lips before quickly vanishing. 

 

"I'll look into it, then." Was her response to his comment about lodging. She stood and placed the container on the table he was sitting at only to move in his way and take the items from his arms.

 

"Sit." It was both a command and a request. "A child could take you out in this state, sit or you'll end up on the floor." She didn't say another word, ignoring any protest he might give as she hurriedly picked up the dishes so he wouldn't be tempted to and began carrying them through the door she saw Kern go through. 

 

"Excuse me," Reijna called out as the door shut behind her, "Kern, is it? Could you also bring out a bowl with warm water and a towel?" 

 

[Kyvvan68]

Sandor didn’t try and avoid Reijna when stepped in front of him. He was honestly too tired and the blows to his head, along with the alcohol were beginning to make his head swim. When she took the dishes from his arms and ordered him to sit, he expected that she was going to do something about his injuries so complied without complaint. He couldn’t help but grin as she offered her assessment of his condition even offering a reply in his drunken tones…

 

“Nah,” he said with a false frown. “No way one child’d take me out… Two? Well then, m’be I’d be in trouble…”

 

With that said, he started removing the leather breast guard that he was wearing. Underneath was a light tunic that had been soaked through in a couple of places with blood from injuries he’d received during the fight that had ended with his former employer’s murder. As Reijna moved away and spoke to Kern asking for a towel and bowl of warm water, he pulled the tunic over his head revealing a powerfully muscled torso that was even more battered looking than his face had been. Dozens of healed scars marked his body but there were several recent wounds that looked to be in need of serious attention. The deep slashes, that had started healing had been pulled open during the fist and a large and angry bruise dominated the right side of Sandor’s ribcage. Falling still once again, he turned to regard his friend who looked at him in alarm as he hesitated before answering the woman’s query.

 

“Er… yes! Of course miss,” Kern waved the plate of bread that he’d returned with and nodded at the other plate, stacked with fruit, meat, and chees that he’d brought just in case there was change in mind… He hustled past and into the room placing the platters onto the bar while muttering loudly enough to be heard.

 

“By the Twelve! Had I but known, I would have never agreed…”

 

With that said, he turned back to Reijna and relieved her of her burden. “I’ll get those for you straight away,” he said with one more look over his shoulder at his injured friend. “Honesty, I had no idea he’d been that badly hurt.”

 

With that, he was off leaving the room empty aside from the pair. Sandor sat quietly as instructed with eyes that were unfocused seemingly content to wait until someone came to either patch him up or put him out of his misery. At this point he was beyond caring too much…

[Reyukka]

"Hurt that badly? But it wasn't even..." Reijna's voice trailed off as she turned around only to find herself speechless and... awkwardly gawking. The sight of his beaten and bruised body caused her to forget what she was saying, and even that Kern had brought food out. She wanted to yell at him for being so reckless in such a state, however she controlled her temper. He was honestly a stranger to her.. And she knew she really shouldn't care too much about people she didn't know, but it was hard. 

 

"Well this," she motioned her hand to indicate his body, "is more than what I can help with. I mean I could bandage you up but I don't think I have enough. Once you're cleaned up you should go find a chirurgeon to get patched up." Reijna moved back over to him and picked up her container as a soft mutter left her lips.

 

"I guess this won't be as helpful as I thought.." With a sigh she went back to her own table and sat back down as she waited for Kern to return with the water and towel. She kept her gaze upon the container, purposely not looking at Sandor. Well, maybe it could help with his face at least... 

[Kyvvan68]

Kern hustled from the room calling out in a loud voice to someone beyond to attend him. Though his voice could be hear giving instruction to the unseen person who’d responded, the exact wording was muffled to those inside. After several minutes, the sound from the yard faded and an eerie stillness fell over the tavern.

 

“S’ nothin,” Sandor said after the lengthy silence. Responding to the surprise the others displayed at his condition so long after showed just how disjointed he’d become. “After th’Ridge, the only piece o’me not bruised, brkn, or bloody was me’little toe!”

 

Kern, who just returned with a large bowl of water and several towels under his arm as Sandor finished, frowned and cleared his throat. “Well,” he began with a quick glance towards Reijna. Though most wouldn’t recognize the reference to the obscure battle Sandor mentioned, Kern knew all too well what his friend was speaking of. Discretion was something both men had learned the importance of and the barkeep was uncertain that other man would be happy to learn that he’d talked about those events in a drunken stupor.

 

“Why don’t we look at your injuries good ser,” he continued as he moved towards the woman offering her one of the towels. While he’d bandaged more than a few injuries in his day, he was no medic and he figured she was probably more versed in first aid than he was. “You can regale us with your misadventures after the chirurgeon has a look at you.”

 

With a sideways look he added in a low voice the Reijna, “I sent my girl to fetch someone from the outpost m’lady. They’ll probably sent an inexperienced clod with nothing but thumbs but they’ll probably be a sight better than we will at this…”

 

For his own part Sandor fell silent as Kern spoke to the woman, the mercenary slumped a little further into the chair and dropped his chin down closing his eyes as he waited for the chirurgeon to come. Within seconds of falling still, they could hear his breathing even out as he promptly fell asleep.

 

Kern, strode over and poked the much larger man in the shoulder in an attempt to see if he was really out. When there was no noticeable reaction, he turned towards Reijna and shrugged. “I suppose this’ll make things easier for when someone comes to bandage him up.” With that, he fell silent content to wait or lend a hand in cleaning up the other man’s injuries.

[Reyukka]

"The Ridge?" Reijna asked before Kern cleared his throat and spoke. Guessing it was something that they shouldn't talk about due to Kern's face, she didn't pry any further. She took the towel offered to her and rose from her seat with a slight nod at Kern's statement. 

 

"We should hurry and get him at least cleaned up. It looks like he should have had this taken care of a while ago. I'm surprised it isn't infected yet." She watched Kern as he poked his friend.

 

"True unless the pain wakes him." With that said, she walked over and squatted in front of Sandor to begin cleaning his wounds as gently as possible. When his torso was as clean as she could get it, she worked on cleaning the blood from his face and patted him dry. She then took her container and opened it. 

 

"This is a salve to help with sore muscles. It helps with the pain and swelling. We use it after a particularly rough training session," she explained absentmindedly as she rubbed a very small amount on his cheeks and jaw, "I doubt it will help much with the headache he'll no doubt have in the morning, but it'll ease the pain in his face."

 

When she finished, she paused for a moment, her fingers hovering slightly over his jaw where she had just put the salve. Then with a heavy sigh she put the lid back on quickly and grabbed her things. 

 

"I'll be going." She called over her shoulder before all but running out the door to head for the mill Sandor had mentioned earlier.