Date: August 22, 2000 (Aether: December 23, 3906)
Place: Western Docks - Haven
Cast: Amipal, Caioma, Kalantha, Mehtar, Moebius, Sebastienne, Tara
Scene: Mehtar, a Seraskier of the Varati rebel Clan Al'Gul, takes his taunts a step too far when he insults the Queen-Maharani in front of a Kaimakam of the Agni-Haidar, and what started off as a volley of verbal insults quickly escalates to physical violence.

The trio of Al'Gul warriors, led by a towering Varati, converges and engages another two kshatri warriors outside the Siren's Song. Terse words are exchanged, the conversation directed by Mehtar.

Kalantha glances down to the Varati with a faintly arched eyebrow. "They will be no bother lass, unless they want to be wearin' arrows." She does, however, signal her first mate with a brief click of her fingers and a nod in the direction of the Varati, a few of the men vanish below-decks and come up armed, the gang plank carefully withdrawn. "Fuckin' Varati, no better'n animals..."

Sebastienne nods to that. "I had more than my fair share of feathers pulled by them, roughed up right hard and I owe them a lot." She smirks irritatedly. "Wish I could do something about it." She sighs and spits over the deck, the sight of them leaving a bad taste in her mouth.

Tara follows Seaside in from the east.

From the further end of the docks, a trio of sable-clad figures makes its slow but steady way towards the infamous Siren's Song. Their occasional pauses, the brief conversations they share with those who pass, suggest -- if such suggestion were needed -- that their presence here is no happenstance. The foremost of the three carries a sturdy Varati crossbow hitched up on one shoulder; the other two appear to bear only falcares.

Tara approaches from the docks, heading for the Siren, cloak pulled tight around her.

Kalantha looks up as a crew member on the one remaining mast whistles and yells down something. A string of curses follow the man's words. "This may be getting interestin', Tienne, might want to be looking for s spot of cover soon, aye?"

Sebastienne chuckles and shakes her head. "And miss the action? You gotta be kidding, Kala. Give me a dagger or something? I think I'd not mind hurting one of them. Especially that one over there." Nodding to Amipal. "What you think they're up to? They after you? Or each other?"

The Al'Gul warriors bear an assortment of arms. The towering Kshatri Seraskier brandishes a large spiked buckler, and the spines of a vicious morning star hanging from his belt distort the brown and tan haik he wears.

The other four heft an assortment of polearms in addition to curved falcares, their pommels plain in contrast to the lion-shaped ones of Agni-Haidar warriors.

Mehtar scowls at the warrior before him, threatening to shrink beneath the half-mad gaze, "What do you mean you don't know how many Agni-Ha--"

He is interrupted by an alarmed, "Sirdar! Look what is coming down the street.."

Ripping his attention away from the warrior, the rabid gaze of the Seraskier hunts the street for the interruption's reason. His gaze finds the Agni-Haidar, and his coarse lips curl into smile of grim ecstasy, "Finally, some entertainment.."

Moebius steps out from the Siren's Song.

The Agni-Haidar in question approach without any visible appearance of trepidation, their expressions uniformly dispassionate; at a faint wave from the first -- Amipal, as it happens -- the two behind fan out to either side, all three coming to a stand within speaking distance of the Al'Gul clansmen.

Amipal gives the towering Mehtar a brief once-over, lowering his loaded crossbow and casually surveying the mechanism. "So," he intones, as if he were making an observation on the weather. "Spilling your seed when you should be trying to preserve your life. Do you seek to get children who will hear stories of you when you are gone?"

One by one, the crew of the Wind Dancer arm themselves. Taking no chances, they carry a variety of axes and blades, many sporting bows as well. Kalantha turns to Tienne and rasps out, "I be doubtin' it, lass. They wouldn't be sending t'black guard after me." She spits after naming them then lets out a string of curses, "If I 'ad this one repaired, I would be castin' off sharpish, tho'."

Tara glances across at Kalantha. Murmurs, softly, "No sense in makin' more trouble..."

Sebastienne looks up to Kala and nods. "Who's who down there?" Meaning, of course, in regards to the two represented groups. "Gods, I wish I could plant a dagger in his back." Harsh words from the young girl, especially after admitting she hates hurting others. "What are you going to do? Just stand here and see if they do anything?"

Mehtar laughs in absolute delight, his coarse voice broken with chuckles. "My little kitten. I am so glad you came. I've been waiting so long..." He reaches beneath his haik and withdraws from its depths a vicious morning-star. He hefts it like a toy despite its massive weight, the spikes nearly a hand in length. "How many zechin for you, my little ganika? You will not bear me children, but you can swallow my seed as easily as any of the candala ganika here..." He grins mirthlessly, "...or sitting on the throne in Atesh-Gah."

Tara doesn't dignify that with a response, just yet, bar a blue-eyed study of the tall Varati, and a slow intake of breath, as she crosses the street to fetch up leaning against the wall of the Siren. But she heard it, no doubt.

Amipal arcs an eyebrow at the hulking clansman's last comment, head tilting slightly to one side; he offers a brief, civil -- almost gentle -- smile, then just as calmly lifts his crossbow to train it on one of the Al'Gul standing nearest the Seraskier. Starless eyes narrow in momentary concentration, and then the weapon hums, and the deadly bolt is away -- winging unerringly for the bridge of the hapless soldier's nose.

Moebius trudges out of the Siren's Song at the side of his drinking buddy, unaware of the confrontation he'll stumble into. "A beer down the throat, a sack full of gold, a girl in the..." he sings, badly, totally off-tune, but happily. The song stops all of a sudden as he sees the various Varati warriors confronting themselves. "Whass...whass goin' on here?" he mutters, to nobody.

Kalantha lets out a breath at what was perhaps the Al'Gul's last comment in more ways than one. "Well, that be fuckin' it," she comments a faint smirk as Amipal lets fly. "Jus' be hopin' it don't spread much."

Sebastienne glares and takes a step back. "Dammit!" She recalls the innocent he last struck. "What the nine hells is with him!?" She shouts. "Why can he do that? Why? I swear it on my life, he is going to pay for the blood he spills! Can't he ever take up the fight with one who starts it? He always turns his blade upon the innocent!!" A fist pounds the ship and her face flushes red.

The Al'Gul warrior's eyes go wide when Amipal trains the weapon on him. The bolt blurs through the air and sinks into the clansmen's skull with a sickening crack. The warrior crumples, dead before he hit the ground.

Mehtar follows the bolt's path and grimaces darkly before retraining his gaze upon Amipal once again, spitting, "That wasn't very fair..." The grimace becomes a mad grin in the blink of an eye, "...but now you're out of bolts."

Mehtar raises his weapon to lick a spike on his morning-star, shivering in pure ecstasy, "Now it's time for some fun, my little ganika." With that, the towering warrior charges Amipal, crying, "Death to the Maharani ganika!"

The other Al'Gul warriors heft their polearms and charge the short distance towards the Agni-Haidar, too frightened to disobey Mehtar. They shout their own battle-cries however, "Al'Gul!"

Tara remains right where she is, unable to take her eyes off the battle.

Amipal tosses the spent crossbow aside like so much kindling as his companions silently draw their blades, watching with slitted eyes as the Al'Gul descend upon them. The Kaimakam himself backpedals a few steps from the onrushing Mehtar, buying himself enough time to get his own falcare out of its scabbard. Still frighteningly at his ease despite the sudden lethality of the affair, he returns a soft, "Fair? I'm sorry, were we playing at cards? Come on to your death, infidel."

Moebius claps in his hands, grinning now broadly. He leans back against the Siren's Song, cheering to the warriors, "Wooh, cool fight. Let's go, boys, make it a good show!" Obviously, he thinks this is just another brawl where everybody goes home after some furniture and bones are crushed.

Mehtar charges Amipal, crossing his buckler and morning-star before him so as to trap Amipal's weapon against his body while the charging warrior's weight seeks to knock the Agni-Haidar Kaimakam off his feet, ramming him.

One clansman spins his spear-sword once before engaging a Janizar in lone combat. Two other clansmen surround the other, jabbing at their prey ferociously.

Amipal does his best to roll with the impact of the broader man, wheeling away to the side; nonetheless, the force of the collision spills him to his knees, although the lack of full resistance sends his opponent stumbling past and down. The Kaimakam winces and lurches back to his feet, pursuing Mehtar with a vicious if somewhat haphazard slash of his falcare.

The Lion facing the lone Al'Gul appears to be in his element; as the other man swings, he deflects, then returns with a blow intended to break the haft of his opponent's weapon.

The soldier facing two, however, appears harried, backing slowly and swinging, giving his companions time.

The Kaimakam's falcare slash whistles through the air until it clangs against the scaled armor of the large Al'Gul, cleaving through the scales and severing flesh beneath. Mehtar growls venomously as Amipal attacks, and retaliates by swinging the heavy morning-star at the Agni-Haidar's now unprotected middle.

The sword-spearman's weapon is cloven with a shower of splinters and a thunderous crack. He heaves the broken shaft at the Janizar and backpedals, his retreat hopefully buying him time enough to jerk his falcare loose. The other two clansmen continue their relentless jabbing at the lone Janizar.

Sebastienne moves down the path of the docks to get as close as she can. She huddles behind a stack of crates, gripping the dagger in her hand. She watches carefully, hoping the monster known as Amipal falls. She licks her lips as a taste of vicious desire takes her. She wants to see this... and if that other 'rati manages to hurt Amipal enough for her to finish the job, all the better. Just wait for now, Tienne.

The cruel, spiked weapon lays home on Amipal's side with a jarring crunch, fracturing the light brigandine below his sable tunic, and quite possibly the bone beneath that. The Kaimakam bites back on a cry, but retains the presence of mind to take hold of the morningstar's shaft, trying to keep it from being drawn back for another quick strike; his own weapon wheels into the Seraskier once more, aimed now for the same place, taking advantage of the breach made there.

The Agni-Haidar faced off against the lone Al'Gul pursues swiftly, swinging for the other man's sword arm, hoping to prevent him from drawing; the other cries out as a spear-point strikes home, but he bats the offending weapon away and continues his strategic retreat.

Moebius' eyes grow wide and he whistles as he watches the sheer force and speed with which the professional warriors charge at themselves. He has seen his share of brawls, but never a Varati killing-machine in action, let alone several. Fascinated, he just stands and stares, mimicking once in a while the weapon motions of the soldiers with his fat arm alone, "Now slash, swing, wooh..."

Tara remains, motionless, leaning against the Siren's wall, eyes on Mehtar.

Mehtar's morningstar is snared by Amipal, the Agni-Haidar's hand closing on the shaft. Mehtar growls viciously and tries to rip the morningstar away while hefting his buckler to block the Kaimakam's slash. The falcare clangs off the buckler's steel spikes.

The lone clansman fumbles in drawing his falcare and falls victim to the Janizar's viperous slashes -- his neck laid open, fountaining blood. The clansman stumbles to the ground, uselessly clutching his throat and thrashing wildly. The other clansmen begin coordinating their strikes, jabbing at the same time.

So excited by the sight of pain being delivered to not one, but two Varati, Tienne squeals out from her spot behind the boxes. "Yah! Kill each other, yah!!" She hears herself and pulls back a little more behind the boxes. As bits of rock and splintering weapons shower towards her, she gasps and ducks against the wall. Thinking it now best to get out of the area, before the Hounds or anyone else shows up, she rises and starts running, flopping wings bouncing off her feet behind her as she runs.

She turns around once more, with a gleeful shout, "Drown the streets in 'rati blood! Wooohaa!" and then disappears around the corner.

Once Mehtar begins to pull in earnest, Amipal releases the weapon without struggle, laying both hands on the hilt of his falcare as the other man stumbles backwards with the sudden shift in weight; teeth gritted, the Kaimakam seizes that brief window of opportunity to put all of his force behind a third, two-handed swing, reversing the side of attack.

With his opponent dispatched, the unengaged Lion dashes to the aid of his fellow, dividing with him the pair of Al'Gul there; the wounded, winded Agni-Haidar still appears to be getting the worst of his engagement, but the other now makes inroads on his second man.

Mehtar does stumble, but only for a step. Yet it is enough to delay his block. The buckler rises too late, and the falcare crushes the steel scales of his brigandine and draws blood again. The morningstar blurs again, this time swinging from above down at Amipal's shoulder in a crushing strike even as his own is being ruined.

With the odds now even among clansmen and Janizars, the clansmen begin retreating from the assaults of the Agni-Haidar, using their spears defensively.

Caioma follows Seaside in from the east.

Tara is leaning on the wall of the Siren, watching the brawl, curiously dispassionate.

Amipal does his best to sidestep the larger Varati's downswept blow, but he is already engaged; the spiked weapon catches his covered armor and an angle, the points tearing through fabric, metal, and the flesh below, darkening the area with blood. Proceeding in grim silence, now, the Lion throws a mailed forearm against the edge of the buckler, trying to knock it out of alignment -- a feint, it seems, as the bloodied falcare arcs and jumps instead for the side of the Seraskier's head.

The Al'Gul on the wounded Lion scores another hit, to the thigh this time, but not enough to disable the leg. The other Lion, flushed with victory, drives back his opponent, works around his spear, and delivers a fierce blow intended to cleave his enemy's skull.

Moebius stands at the other side of the Siren's entrance from Tara, leaning against the wall like the young cyprian. However, the sailor is much more engaged, viewing the whole thing still as a great, fascinating spectacle. He raises his arm to encourage the warriors -- as if they needed any encouragement -- shouting out, "Yes, strike, go, hit!" It is not really obvious who's side he's on, if any.

Mehtar's buckler arm is cast aside as Amipal swats at it, but the large Al'Gul shows himself to be nimble enough to spring back, away from the slashing blade. With lips still locked in a horrible rictus, he hefts his morningstar and buckler again, ready for a renewed charge.

The attacking janizar wedges his falcare into the Al'Gul clansmen's skull with a sickening crack. The Al'Gul's motion stops and his eyes take on a lifeless gleam. Blood starts to trickle from his nose and mouth, but strangely, he does not fall... and the Janizar's blade is held fast in his skull. The attacking Al'Gul bears down on the other Janizar, attacking with a flurry of jabs.

This isn't a brawl. A brawl is flying fists and words, usually involving alcohol and egos larger than Delphi's tower. This, on the other hand, is a battle. There's intent to deal out death in the bloodiest, most violent way possible. While there may be egos involved, spectators are likely taking their lives in their hands just for a good 'show.'

Luckily, the Hound who first happened on the situation was smart enough not to try and intervene with his single three man patrol. Running as fast as he could through the streets of Haven, he reported to his half-breed Commander.

Gathering as many guardsmen as she could at such a short notice, Caioma took back to the streets, causing a stir as they rushed towards the docks.

About now is when they arrive on the scene.

Amipal stands quietly, his breathing heavy, but the pale, risen spirits of death dance in his usually dark eyes; a faint smile tugs at one corner of his mouth as he surveys his opponent, with more respect, perhaps, but also with more knowledge -- the next pass will be the last. Falcare at the ready, tacky with the blood of Al'Gul, he waits patiently for the charge that must surely come. The approaching Hounds get a sidelong glance, but it is all that he can afford.

The other Agni-Haidar continue their combat, two on one now, and the hapless Al'Gul clansman falls quickly backwards despite having wounded his first opponent. Half-turning to break, he receives a vengeful sword to the side from this very man, an unwarded blow that bites deeply enough to reach the spine.

Mehtar chuckles with malicious mirth and pounces towards Amipal, lifting his morningstar as if to bring it down upon the Kaimakam's head, but it is only a feint. He, too, has seen the Hounds' approach, and suddenly rips himself away from the engagement with a frustrated growl, sprinting towards the twisting alleys of the lower docks. He abandons the remaining Al'Gul warrior who survives only a second longer when Agni-Haidar falcares rip apart his flesh.

With the knowledge that the brawl involved Agni-Haidar and other Varati, Caioma ordered her quickly-formed force armed with crossbows as well as their swords. Personally, she's a horrible marksman with her crossbow, but the threat of that rather than a sword may prevent her side from getting sliced up once again. Though she's a woman, she's practiced an attention-getting shout, "HALT! By order of Delphi, cease and desist!"

There are probably twelve other Hounds with her, none of them looking too confident at the possibility of having to take on an Agni-Haidar.

Amipal rumbles deep in his throat, almost a cat-like sound, as the Al'Gul Seraskier makes for the alleys; he straightens, and the faint, anticipatory smile fades from his dusky features to be replaced by a more taciturn, if no less unpleasant, expression.

Starless eyes shift to regard the female Hound Captain evenly, their message placing her somewhere between a target and a genuine human being. "Get the crossbow," he murmurs, calmly, and the unwounded Lion moves to retrieve the empty weapon, paying little attention to the detachment nearby. The fighting has, indeed, ceased, by whatever order, and largely due to the fact that no one remains alive to fight.

A few startled patrons of the docks stand startled as Mehtar runs right at them, seeking the alleys beyond. He does not slow for them, but rather casts them aside easily. His path can be marked by the trail of stumbling and prone citizens. Even in the alleys, startled alarms mix with his half-mad cackling laugh... trailing off into silence as he disappears into the city.

Tara watches him go, an unreadable fire in those sky-blue eyes.

Moebius grumbles lowly. Hounds. As usual, spoiling all the fun. With a disappointed face, the sailor stuff his hands back into the pockets of his pants and pushes himself off the wall, giving Caioma a dark look. It's all her fault, after all. Now, let's see if the Song offers more fun and excitement at this hour.

Tara shakes her head and turns to head into the Siren's Song.

Swearing to herself, Caioma gestures with her crossbow towards the fleeing Mehtar, "Karis, Falcon. Take your patrols after him!" This moment strikes of deja-vu for her, making her wonder if it's the same Varati who fled into the shadows the last time she happened upon a scene of Varati fighting Varati in the streets of Haven.

The two patrols of three Hounds each run off after the single man while Caioma turns her attention to Amipal. "Kaimakam. What's going on here?"

Amipal sheathes his gruesome falcare, wincing just slightly with the motion; one shoulder of his sable tunic is torn, and the fabric is deepened in shade by wetness from beneath. The Kaimakam studies the Hound's features for just a moment before intoning, gently, "We were attacked. We defended ourselves." Then, after a pause, "We were outnumbered, as you can see." One scarred hand gestures at the grisly array of bodies.

Dark eyes flick to the four fallen bodies before looking back up towards Amipal. Caioma is a tall woman and standing next to a Varati Agni-Haidar makes her look delicate. "Perhaps in numbers, Kaimakam, but I think that your skills likely made them the outnumbered ones."

Turning to her own men, she looks towards one of the Atlanteans who nods and turns to direct his own patrol in starting the clean-up of the bodies. Back to Amipal, "Can you elaborate on the incident, Imphadi?"

Well, if the Hound isn't interested, Tara won't tell who fired the first shot. She pushes the door open and slips inside.

Amipal's attention has strayed to his wounded man, who is doing his level best to stand at his ease nearby. The Kaimakam's brow furrows faintly with what might, perhaps, be some form of concern. "We were approaching the Siren's Song, to refresh ourselves, when they emerged," he narrates, in the same soft undertone. "These are the Al'Gul, who have registered their defiance of our God-King, Khalid Atar. Naturally, they chose to confront us, however foolishly."

One arm has gone to his side, the forearm settled gently against his body as if for support. "We must tend our man, Hound. If you wish to know more, you may send for me at Atesh-Gah."

Brow furrowing with a flash of anger behind her eyes, Caioma states in a cool tone that argues with her expression, "The streets of Haven are not Varati soil, Kaimakam. I realize that these are violent times for your people, but it is still not within your rights to attack those you consider to be traitors outside of Atesh-Gah. I could arrest you and your men for the blood that's bathed this street tonight."

Taking a deep breath, she straightens her shoulders some and adds, "I would be willing to see the Hounds cooperate with you in apprehending those that are breaking our peace without putting the relation between the legitimate Varati government and Haven in jeopardy."

Amipal gestures with one hand, and the sound Lion goes to support his fellow; the other scarcely betrays the relief this brings, the struggle of remaining on his feet unaided, but a certain desperate rigidity has left his posture.

"I attacked no one," the Kaimakam corrects calmly. "But that is beside your point. I have no authority to seal any pact with you, Hound, but if you will depute one to speak in Delphi's name to the Queen-Maharani, I have little doubt that she will entertain your suggestion. In the interim, I suggest that you pay particular attention to Varati showing the colors of Clan Al'Gul." Another, smaller gesture in the direction of the corpses. "They are volatile."

Moebius gestures vaguely in Amipal's direction. "Hey, you, didn't you strike out that big dude first when he called ye' a whore? Couldn' take that, eh?" No doubt, this man has no idea who he is talking to.

Glancing towards the bodies again, Caioma nods, "They are. But they are also dying rather often, it seems."

Glancing back at Amipal, she nods her head, "I will arrange for someone to seek an audience with your Maharani. I realize these are difficult times for your people, but cooperation will..."

The half-breed Hound pauses and her dark eyes dart past Amipal to note Moebius.

Amipal inclines his head, moving to depart with halting but stable steps. "We intend no affront to the citizens of Haven," he murmurs in passing -- an olive branch, perhaps, or perhaps just a bone tossed to an angry animal. As he goes, the two other Agni-Haidar fall in behind him, one easing the other's passage with a hand on his upper arm.

The Kaimakam does shoot Moebius a parting glance, however, one that is neither murderous nor warning, but which contains in its murky depths certain clear suggestions of both.

FIN  

[ Home | News | Staff | Players | Links | Gallery | Logs | Library | Updates | Mail ]
[ Connect to the Game ]