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| Ghosts of Weavers Past | |
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| Topic Started: Sep 12 2009, 12:55 PM (655 Views) | |
| Zeth | Mar 19 2010, 08:56 PM Post #46 |
 
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Ivan looked around. How primitive. He thought. But then, so familiar. He realised he'd slowed for a moment and picked up his step to keep with Aldrich and Conner as they perused the map. As Aldrich indicated Conner lead the way, Ivan piped up, squinting against the dusty air of the square in the approaching twilight. "How precisely is this to work though? I would figure we have to work out a plan when we arrive? In unfamiliar territory? Surrounded by armed hostiles? In the dark?" |
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| dinowoman | Mar 21 2010, 10:52 AM Post #47 |
Living Fossil
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The smile that Aldrich gave to Ivan in response to his questions conveyed an air of confident self-assurance. "And thus speaks Mr. Positive," he teased. "We'll sort out the plan when we find out where Wolf actually is. No point worrying about it till we know what we're dealing with. But it's not totallyunfamiliar territory: we've got some idea of what's around there from the map. Don't know who we'll have to face, but if luck's on our side, we may only have to get past a bunch of slave traders with a few basic weapons. If not - if the Inquisitor's got his goons patrolling the place - well, we got round them before; if we don't have the skills to outwit a few guys with guns, we don't deserve to be Riftweavers. And the dark - that could work in our favour. Harder for us to see what's going on, but harder for them to see what we're up to too. You just trust your Uncle Aldrich. I'll see that we get through." |
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| Zeth | Apr 25 2010, 08:46 PM Post #48 |
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A twenty minute walk saw the Weavers past all manner of emerging night-life among the rough and fantastic streets of the Western Districts. Ivan had to admit to himself--and shark of course--that it was the most fascinating display of fusion between whatever two worlds had collided here. At one point he was sure he had seen some sort of goblin creature bounding past them covered in glow sticks and light-up toys, a brilliant neon rainbow flash as it ran by, apparently too gleeful over its new treasures to worry about the three men trekking their way towards slavers. Other than this creature there were a few other species that Ivan hadn't seen during the day, most swathed in clothes obscuring their features. Most of the city's mainstream inhabitants seemed to be taking shelter in their homes for the night, but some elves and humans were still about in the quickening dark, some carrying torches of varieties both battery and flame powered. And Ivan was even convinced at one point he saw the glow of a television in the window of one house that had obviously been a very nice suburban home before its new inhabitants moved in and gave it a face lift. Or face down. Or face over. Ivan didn't really know if he'd call the old-world fantasy façade a lessening of the original, just different. And odd looking, the shingles replaced with treated wooden equivalents, exotic vines taking over one corner, and rough wooden poles with spiked tops going up behind the evenly machine cut wooden fence that had already existed, slowly turning the upper-middle class home into something resembling a fort. But eventually the three reached an area beyond this wild and chronologically confused area that had obviously been ripped straight from the more fantasy inclined world. The grass was trodden back from the path to form a dirt road between the the thatch roofed houses, a ditch on either side draining waste from the homes. The road gradually widened as Ivan, Conner, and Aldrich approached what looked like it was once the centre of a small town, and also their destination. The Arena dominated the centre of the square. To Ivan it looked depressingly stereotypical, almost exactly like the Colosseum in Rome. Admittedly, there were some differences (like it still being in use...), but overall it was the same structure, just a little bit smaller and in better shape. The outside was lit by alternating battery and flame torches placed in slots, and there were statues of various figures placed on either side of the entrances around the structure, which were still open to Ivan's surprise, even if it looked like most of the day's activity was passed. Luckily for them, nobody cared who they were here, so nothing stopped them from simply walking up to the nearest arch that constituted an entrance. Ivan looked over the statue on the right side, which, unlike all the rest he had spotted, wasn't attached to the main structure but instead free standing. It looked out of place too, a sort of odd pirate individual with anachronistic weapons. Obviously scavenged like most of the other stuff in this world, though from where Ivan had no clue where. He ran a hand over the surprisingly smooth stone blade of the stone pirate's cutlass as he thought about how this insane world was almost cannibalising itself, each side taking everything from the other and then probably stealing it back at some point. "Why" was the only thing Ivan could think of it. Ivan looked over to Conner, who was now standing under the arched entrance alongside Aldrich and himself. "We're in for what is for all intents and purposes an alien fighting arena. It is dark. We are likely to be eaten by a grue." |
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| Teenage Mage | May 2 2010, 01:08 PM Post #49 |
AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH
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Wolf's sharp ears were greeted by the growing babble of voices as they walked through the dark streets to the arena. Whatever the arena might be-though Wolf thought she could guess. This world just seemed to get more barbaric by the minute. She growled under her breath, yanking at the wretched shackles that restrained her. The skin around her wrists and ankles already felt irritated and sore. If they all got out of this, she was going to make damn sure she got Aldrich to teach her how to get out of a pair of handcuffs. The line of slaves and slavers stumbled through the dark streets, feet scraping over unfinished bits of cobblestone and concrete mixed together in a clumsy mess. More than once Wolf narrowly avoided broken bottles. She found herself fervently grateful that she at least had sturdy boots, unlike most of the poor slaves. Her weapons and gear, she had been annoyed but not surprised to discover, had all been taken away. Eventually the mishmash of stone turned to packed earth below their feet, and flickering lights beckoned to them in the distance. The thin crowd around them thickened, murmuring excitedly as they hurried down the broadening road. The chatter resembled that which one might hear from a crowd going to see a movie, or a ball game. Some of them poked or prodded at the slaves, cat-calling or opening placing bets as they passed. One of them, a man in his twenties with lank, greasy hair leaned in and tried to smack Wolf on the bottom. Wolf spun around, slamming her head into his stomach. Until this moment she had suppressed her kill-sense, deliberately not listening to it as it told her how to take advantage of her situation, shackles and all. As impressive as it might be, the kill-sense could only do so much when she was outnumbered so greatly. Now, though, her temper flared up beyond her reason, and she pummeled the poor fool who had tried to touch her. He moaned, dropping to the ground beside her as the crowd roared. Wolf's legs had been shackled too, loose enough to walk but tight enough to prevent running. Not quite tight enough, though, to prevent her from bringing one leg up just enough to kick the prone man in the groin. He screamed in pain and doubled over on the ground, curling up into a fetal position. The slavers surged forward, grabbing Wolf and hauling her back into line. “You'll pay for that, slave,” one of them, the one who had been “handling” her, whispered angrily into her ear, but the others were laughing. “They'll pay for that, you mean,” one of the others said. “Ain't she a feisty one! We'll get some money off of her, you can count on that!” The jeers and cat-calls increased as the line progressed closer to the arena. Several people were already declaring bets on Wolf. She yanked at the shackles, but only resulted in chafing her wrists even more. “You people are sick!” she screamed at the crowd. “The lot of you!” This only resulted in more laughter. “Fierce, isn't she!” someone called out. Eventually the torturous walk brought them to the long-awaited arena. The crowd split off, heading around to the front gates, while the slavers lead their crew around back. The huge, foul structure loomed over Wolf as the slavers herded the slaves towards a couple of unimpressive doors guarded by four shabby but dangerous looking men, all armed to the teeth. Inside, the air had the same rank scent as it did in the slavers' warehouse. Sounds of moaning and sobbing haunted the air. The light was dim, just bright enough for Wolf to make out the cages lining both walls. A thin man in a leather jacket was waiting at the very end of the long room, discussing something with another slaver. Wolf's eyes were drawn to stacks of weapons towards the end of the room. Chains, heavy clubs, nets, and some unidentified spiked things were all stacked in a huge heap, along with rusty helmets and flak jackets mixed with chain-mail shirts. Not only that, but as Wolf looked around, she saw that some of the cages contained not people, but battered and sorry-looking animals. A malnourished lion lay curled up in one cramped cage; another held a bear whose pelt was marred by numerous wounds, while in a third cage two of Wolf's namesake tried and failed to pace. Despite the terrible situation and the pain all around that hung thick in the air, Wolf couldn't stop a sharp smile from unfolding across her face. Well now, she thought. They want me to fight, do they? I'll fight for them. Oh yes. |
 He said, "I left my home, where the dead never rose, For the streets of gold I've yet to find. And at the end of the day, all you can do is pray, Without hope, well, you might as well be blind, Yeah, be blind." Tomorrow comes a day too soon....tomorrow comes a day too soon. | |
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| dinowoman | May 3 2010, 06:57 AM Post #50 |
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Living Fossil
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Aldrich chuckled at Ivan's reference, and likewise looked at Conner. "Then it's a good thing we have a grue-spotter with us. Darkness doesn't make any difference to a blind man." He paused and glanced around. "But I think we may find it's not quite as dark inside as it appears. Have you noticed? Most of the people on the street near here seem to be heading round the other side of the building. My guess is that there's gonna be something happening here later, and they're the early arrivers. This is probably the rear entrance. I'd say this is as good a place as any to start our search. Shall we snoop around a little?" Aldrich led the little party through the arch and into the gloom. Inside, a passageway led around the circumference of the building. A few rough-looking individuals, possibly slavers, ambled past, paying them little attention. A short walk brought them within sight of a pair of rough wooden doors, facing another of the archways, and guarded by four armed sentries. He signalled to the other two to halt far enough away not to arouse the sentries' interest. As they stood and observed the guards, Aldrich considered. This place looked suspiciously like the Colosseum in Rome. In that case, this doorway was probably the way in to the underground spaces where animals and slaves were kept. If Wolf was being held by slavers, she might well have been brought here. But taking on these guards head-on would attract a lot of attention, which might make searching the place more difficult. Assuming this actually was structured like the Colisseum, then there should be staircases leading to the spectator areas. Might it be more prudent to attempt to sneak in with the audience and then look for a way down to the subterranean holding cells? Or even wait and see if she was on the programme. This kind of entertainment should be right up her street. She'd have no problem holding her own. "Gentlemen, do you fancy taking in a show tonight? Let's go and have a look upstairs." |
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| Zeth | May 8 2010, 10:49 PM Post #51 |
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Ivan lifted an eyebrow in interest at the basic but sound apparent layout of the interior arena. The owners either mustn't have feared the commoners outside or were confident in their own ability to control them, since security approaching from the outside was remarkably loose. Lucky for the Weavers, though Ivan himself was confident that security from the inside was considerably tighter. Made sense, after a fashion. If these people made a habit of only collecting the dregs of society's dregs, then nobody would bother mounting a rescue attempt for those inside, and they need only worry about the caught not escaping on their own. But then...if the slavers were that smart, then surely they'd've taken note at their encounter with Wolf earlier that she had friends. Or a friend. A blind friend. Why would they worry about some crippled freak? Crippled freak! Ivan took note of Shark's comment on the situation but didn't respond, following Aldrich as the trio made for the stone stairs. "Aldrich, this establishment is not a dump, and the organisation, while loose, is definitely present and in control." He paused for a moment as he took the first step up the stairs, "How smart do you think these people are?" |
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| dinowoman | May 10 2010, 04:03 PM Post #52 |
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"Smart enough to be running an apparently successful business," Aldrich replied to Ivan's question. "They're making enough to keep this building maintained; they've got people guarding the vital bits; and the public are coming to watch, so they clearly know how to organise a good show. I don't think we should underestimate them, but at the same time I'm not expecting them to be military strategists. "You got something in mind?" He looked enquiringly at Ivan. |
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| Zeth | May 10 2010, 05:26 PM Post #53 |
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Ivan shrugged a shoulder, tripping over a step but catching himself. "Not without knowing the layout I'm afraid. Though it seems that it would helpful if we stirred up some discontent among the ranks or audience. By the looks of it the audience outnumbers the guards...troop...slavers...whatever the people with weapons are by a good bit." The group reached the top of the steps and the bottom floor of the stands overlooking the arena below them. Ivan leaned on his uninjured leg to let some pressure off for a moment as he continued, "If we had the means without getting ourselves impaled in between, I'd say we get the crowd riled up at the...weapon people as the contestants are being marched out. Weapon people are distracted by having to deal with a mob, the doors to the lower areas are left open, nobody misses three extra people slipping through somewhere they should be easily captured anyway." He put his leg down again, "The only problem would be getting out again." |
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| dinowoman | May 12 2010, 10:50 AM Post #54 |
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Living Fossil
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Aldrich grinned at him. "Great minds think alike. I was thinking we want some kind of distraction." A closed barrier obstructed their entry into the seating area. A steward stood with his back to them just beyond it. His body-language suggested boredom. Aldrich wandered up to the barrier and leant on it. The steward turned lazily towards him and gestured for him to move on. "The way in's round that way," he added by way of explanation, pointing further down the corridor. "I know. Just admiring the scenery." Aldrich assured him. The steward turned back to resume his undemanding job of minding an unused doorway and gave the 'Weaver no further heed. The lines of sight from this entrance, recessed between banks of seating, were somewhat restricted, but still gave a good view of a large swath of the opposite stand, and part of the arena floor. The main entrance was to their left, on the far side, and a steady flow of spectators was now drifting in and fanning out towards their chosen seat positions around the stands. A steward was checking tickets as they entered. A similar scene was in progress at two higher levels. At intervals around the arena, redundant entrances were being guarded by stewards, most of whom looked less than alert. Clearly, they expected little trouble from gate crashers. To his right, just within his field of vision, was what he took to be the contestants' entrance, and right beside that, in the lowest tier of seating, was a bar, which was already doing a brisk trade. Hmmm... Alcohol and bloodsports. A heady combination. Give 'em a bit of time and they could be in quite a useful frame of mind... |
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| Teenage Mage | May 15 2010, 06:38 PM Post #55 |
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AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH
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Aggravatingly bright lights hit Wolf's eyes as she was shoved out into the arena and the roar of the crowd crescendoed around her. Two of the arena guards, as well as the thin man in the leather jacket, accompanied her out. From the opposite side of the ring a similar door to the one they had come out of opened, and two more guards walked out, escorting a thickset, brutish looking man. He was shirtless and covered in almost florescent tattoos that moved as Wolf watched, rippling across his skin to form new shapes. He didn't appear all too bothered by the situation; in fact, he gave Wolf a foul grin and scraped at the dirt floor with his feet, as if eager to go. Wolf gave him an equally vicious smile in return. "You're putting her up against Ravos?" one of the guards asked the thin man in a low mutter. "She's just a newbie. Should be going up against other newbies." "That she should," the thin man replied, raising his hand to reveal a shiny golden coin clutched by fingers that looked as if they had been sewn back on several times. "But the slavers who brought her in said she took out a surprisingly large number of their guards when they got her. It's a gamble, but look at her; everyone's going to bet on Ravos and if she wins, we'll be rolling in it." The guard grunted. "And if she loses?" The thin man shrugged. "It's not like we paid that much for her anyway." He turned to Wolf, palming the gold coin as he did so. "Got a name, sweetheart?" Wolf fixed him with her best death glare. It didn't seem to faze him. "Wolf," she said. "Now let me out of these shackles, you sonsabitches." "Well, well, well," the thin man marveled. "Quite the temper, and quite the threatening moniker. Very well, Wolf it is. Although we may have to come up with something more original if you end up hanging around." He turned before Wolf could reply and jogged over to the middle of the ring. He reached into a pocket of his jacket and pulled out an ancient microphone held together with duct tape and engraved with strange symbols that glowed sickly green. "Ladies and gentlemen!" he said into it, his voice magnified enough to reach over the hubbub of the crowd. The audience fell silent. "Tooooonight!" the thin man yelled, "We have, for the entertainment pleasure of you fine, fine folks, a night full of the most glorious and bloodthirsty fighting, jousting, dueling, bashing, boxing, wrestling, KILLING that you could hope to see for such a low price as our fine gates request! Are you with me?!" The crowd screamed back an incoherent affirmative. "Alright!" The thin man raised his arms in the air, like any announcer entertaining a waiting crowd. He would have fit right in at a boxing ring or football game. "First out in the ring tonight, we have the as-yet-unbeaten, the brutal, the cold-hearted RAVOS!" Ravos received a screaming chorus of applause in response. He smiled, strutting about a little as much as the chains would allow, even flexing his muscles. "And on the other side, we have a NEW challenger, a warrior put forth by the Cable Street chain gang itself, the fierce and the feisty WOLF!" The response was somewhat less enthusiastic this time. The crowd, obviously preferring Ravos, muttered and even booed at the announcer. Some others jeered or wolf-whistled. "Very well!" the thin man called out, smiling a smile that was entirely too sharp. "Have it as you will! Place your bets now, ladies and gentlemen, for our fighters are raring at the bit!" As those in the crowd who had not already placed their bets hastened to do so, the guards removed the shackles from Wolf and Ravos, though they made sure to stick very close to their prisoners. Wolf flexed a little, cracking tired joints and rubbing her sore wrists. Now she was free, at least...but no, now was not the time to attempt an escape. She had no doubt she could take Ravos-she could probably even take out all four guards if she had to-but there were far too many people watching and waiting for this to be an ideal opportunity. Besides, her kill-sense was telling her that the thin man was far more dangerous than anyone else in the arena at the moment. The crowd having finished placing their bets, the thin man yelled into the microphone to get their attention. The guards vacated the ring, exiting into the thick doors and slamming them behind them. "Are you ready?!" the thin man yelled, and the crowd screamed back. "Let's get this show on the road!" the thin man replied, dropping into a quick bow. "ONE...TWO..." On the count of, "THREE!" the thin man vanished in a puff of purple smoke, leaving Wolf and Ravos alone in the ring surrounded by a loud and bloodthirsty audience. Wolf cracked her knuckles. "Let's dance," she said. |
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He said, "I left my home, where the dead never rose, For the streets of gold I've yet to find. And at the end of the day, all you can do is pray, Without hope, well, you might as well be blind, Yeah, be blind." Tomorrow comes a day too soon....tomorrow comes a day too soon. | |
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| Zeth | May 15 2010, 08:49 PM Post #56 |
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Conner, Ivan, and Aldrich hung around the stadium seating as the greater audience arrived, using their timely arrival to their advantage and grabbing a ringside seat. The place was was a bit rowdy for Conner's taste, but even so, at the cost of feeling terribly guilty at the same time he felt himself growing excited with the eager hustle and bustle of the anticipating crowd as they placed bets and settled into their own seats. By the time Wolf was lead out into the arena--just their luck, first round--Conner felt like joining the group in their mad cheering. It was only the fact that his friend was down there in the chains that kept him grounded enough not to. As the announcer, appearing strangely and inexplicably magnificent to Conner's unique sight, gave his spiel Conner smirked at Aldrich and Ivan and reached into his pocket as he stood to face an approaching bookie. "'Ey pal, what's the starting price for bets?" The bookie looked at the blind man suspiciously for a brief moment, but must have quickly decided that money was money no matter the source. "Two pence, and it'll only go up from here. We're running high stakes bids all night." Conner twitched about the mouth and hesitated for a moment before reaching to one of a half-dozen pockets on his pants and pulling out a watch. "How much'd ya say this is worth?" The man didn't bother to hide is interest. "Five pounds." "I'm a newb, not an idiot. Ten pounds at least." The man wrinkled his nose but snatched the watch with a curt nod anyway. "Name?" "Conner. One C, two Ns." "I'm not no idiot either." "You sure aren't not, sir. I'll collect that back with my winnings afterward." "Ten pounds on Ravos for Conner Number Four. Rear entrance to collect aft--" "On the girl." The man doubletook, "Pardon?" "On that Wolf girl." The man shook his head but scratched through the record on his sketchpad notebook and went on, mumbling somethign about crazy eastern high-rollers. Conner merely flopped back in his seat and leaned back, spreading his legs and stretching his arms. He looked down to the scene below as the announcer vanished in a purple cloud as he spoke to Ivan and Aldrich. "So the plan is what exactly? Wolf trashes this guy and the crowd gets pissed off 'nough cause their money. Maybe she beats up a few personnel, and they'll just interested all over again. Can't see a reason for 'em to get riled at the slavers." |
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| dinowoman | May 16 2010, 09:24 AM Post #57 |
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"Unless they think the slavers are deliberately deceiving them. Conner, show me your betting slip and tell me quite loudly who you've bet on. We'll just have a pleasant little chat about why that other guy doesn't stand a chance. Let's spread a few rumours; maybe let them even think the fight's been rigged. If we can get them pissed off enough, I reckon all it'll need will be a catalyst, and I have something in mind..." At Aldrich's insistence, the three 'Weavers had found themselves seats right beside the bar. Many of the spectators around them had been drinking steadily since they arrived, and were showing clear signs of being quite well lubricated by now. They had been growing increasingly noisy and vocal, breaking out into bouts of chanting, and arguing vociferously about the qualities of their various favourite fighters. When the first two had been led into the ring, a great cheer had gone up for the one who was apparently called Ravos, followed by boos and derisive laughter as Wolf was announced. Clearly no-one in this area was in the slightest doubt about who was going to win. |
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| Teenage Mage | Jun 3 2010, 03:54 PM Post #58 |
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AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH
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Wolf had seen her friends do some pretty incredible things over the years she'd been with them. She'd spent hours upon hours practice dueling with a man who could defy gravity and move faster than the human eye could follow. She'd watched Conner hit targets with accuracy a hawk couldn't match, let alone a blind man, you would think. She'd seen Ivan, possessed by Shark, rip apart targets (sometimes living, sometimes not) with his bare hands...then revert back to Ivan, freak out, and run to wash the blood off. Compared to all that, her abilities weren't all that impressive. Hell, you couldn't even see when she was using them, not unless you knew what to look for. Kravos didn't. He charged forth like an obscene, tattooed bull, his dirty grin spread wide across his face. It was clear from his expression that he thought the fight would be over in minutes, if that. Wolf let him come until he was only a few feet away, then, as he put extra strength in his steps to launch a jump, leaped out of the way. It was pathetically easy. Kravos stumbled and almost fell, and Wolf took the opportunity to grab him by the disgustingly sweaty shoulder and vault herself up onto his back. Her kill-sense told her clearly that she would never overpower him by strength alone; he was simply too big. But she could easily outmaneuver him. He bellowed in rage and confusion, twisting and turning to try to grab at Wolf and pull her down. The crowd laughed, enjoying the sight of Kravos struggling as Wolf moved back and forth, in and out of his field of vision. She really would have liked to have a weapon-if she did, she could finish him right now. But she had to work with what she had, which was her bare hands and more ingenuity than her opponent. She couldn't snap his neck-it was just too big and thick, he must be on steroids or something-and anyway, she didn't really want to kill him. But she could inflict some pain from here. She reached forward around his neck. As he craned his head to try and see her, she brought her hands in hard. There was a satisfying crunch and a pained howl from Kravos as his nose splintered and broke. She brought her hands together and whacked him in the back of the head, making him reel forward moaning while she took the chance to jump off. Wolf jogged to the other side of the arena. When she was sure he could see her, she twitched her fingers in the universal signal for bring it on. |
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He said, "I left my home, where the dead never rose, For the streets of gold I've yet to find. And at the end of the day, all you can do is pray, Without hope, well, you might as well be blind, Yeah, be blind." Tomorrow comes a day too soon....tomorrow comes a day too soon. | |
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| dinowoman | Jun 4 2010, 05:49 PM Post #59 |
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Living Fossil
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The fight had begun, and already Wolf was proving herself to be more agile and resourceful than her far heftier opponent. Aldrich took Conner's betting slip and held it up, before handing it back to the younger 'Weaver. "Yep," he declared in a gloating tone, and loudly enough to be clearly audible to the neartest punters, even over the roar of the crowd. "There are going to be a lot of poor suckers going home with empty wallets tonight." As he finished, he stood up, looked the rough and somewhat inebriated fellow behind him clearly in the eye, and winked. "They're playing you for fools, the lot of you, you know." The man, clearly angered by this assertion, grabbed Aldrich by the collar of his coat. "Who you callin' a fool?" he demanded. Aldrich raised his hands in a gesture of mock surrender. "Hey! Don't shoot the messenger, buddy!" "Don' lishen to 'im, Jake," admonished the man's even more drunk companion. "'E's jush' tryin' a win' ya up.... Tha' gir'... Tha' girl... she'sh quick'n a', but she can'... she can' do nuffin' ta Ravos." 'Jake' tightend his grip on Aldrich's collar. "You! What're you hidin' from us?" "Hiding? I'd really love you to tell me when I did that," Aldrich retorted. "If you want hiding, I suggest you take a look at the gentlemen down there." He gestured towards the guards at each entrance to the arena, and to the compere, who had rematerialised in what appeared to be a VIP box on the far side after vanishing from the centre. Various well-dressed individuals, who looked like they could be businessmen, occupied the box with him. "I for one would be delighted to enlighten you about this girl, if you'd just care to release your grip upon my person." Jake looked momentarily nonplussed, and then let his hands drop. Aldrich coughed theatrically. "Gentlemen," he rasped, as he rearranged his scarf, "that girl down there is no newbie. I've seen her fight before. Many times. She's a pro. She may be small, but she knows what she's doing, and she's very skilled. That Ravos out there doesn't stand a chance. Size and strength are no object to her. She'll find a way through. I've seen her beat giants," he added for effect. Then he went on, "I bet the organisers of this event reckon they've got it made. Fool you all into thinking it's a foregone conclusion, then rake in all the cash." By now a throng of about half a dozen had been attracted by this little confrontation, and others behind them were getting increasingly agitated, and yelling, "Siddown!" and "Get ouda the way!" One of the newcomers peered suspiciously at Aldrich. "Ya don' look too trus'worthy y'self," he declared, "hidin' 'hind that scarf. let's see yer face." He reached out to pull the scarf down. His hand never made contact. Before he knew what was happening, he was cannoning into the people behind, sending bodies flying. Aldrich stood stock still, his fist raised. "Don't EVER touch the scarf!" he growled. As the shocked recipient of his wrath struggled to his feet, two of his mates lunged at Aldrich, but the 'Weaver neatly sidestepped, causing one to fall headlong into the space between two rows of seats, and the other to land a roundhouse punch against the head of the person who suddenly found himself between the two opponents. By now the contretemps had garnered the attention of pretty well everyone in this section of the stand. Everyone was on their feet. Some were voicing their disgust at the trick played on them by the management; those who found themselves affected by the fallout from Aldrich's retaliation were yelling at the ones who had fallen on them, causing spilled drinks, spoiled clothing, or worse; the guy who had been punched punched back, and quickly a minor brawl broke out. |
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| Zeth | Jun 28 2010, 03:32 PM Post #60 |
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Ivan turned his back on the brawl as the trio stepped discreetly away, instead focusing back on Wolf, who now looked poised to dissect Ravos like the multiverse's sloppiest surgeon operating on bony, tattooed hamburger. Super...Smash...BROOOOTHERS! Brothers... Feeling better, then? Like you would care. You don't even CARE! Yes, of course, I don't care. What was I thinking? "Aldrich. The, uh, 'disagreement' isn't going to be voiced everywhere at once, and we're the only ones moving away from the management. Aren't they going to figure us out in rather short order? What happens when--" Ivan was suddenly cutoff by Conner's hand on his chest, stopping him. "The Inquisitor is here." |
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6:21 AM Jul 29
