• Closed • Blood from a Stone (Celeste)

Utheridge, The Alley

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Torqin
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Blood from a Stone (Celeste)

Ashan 44th 718

Torqin walked through the darkened alleyway, beginning to second guess his decision to come this way. He'd asked around at a pub about selling one of the finest Rynmeren steeds, a brilliantly white horse, a Warrick Whinny, by the name of Sparkle. He didn't have the horse with him, for of course he would never sell Lady Celeste's darling, but he hoped to spread the word that someone was looking to sell that horse. And he wanted as many people to know about it as was possible. To spread the word. In the hopes, that on the off chance, Celeste would hear about a large, Lotharro man selling a horse that may well be hers. If anything, he hoped that if she heard of it, she'd know he was coming for her. To take her away from all this. To go home.

The bodyguard and the baron had gone separate ways before they even stepped on the boat, intentionally. Celeste's kidnappers would know that at the very least, Xander would come for her. They had called for him, after all. But they might not have known about Torqin. He was a new employee, well a returning employee but that was much less known. He was Xander's back up, a second set of eyes, and hopefully the ace in the hole. So Torqin went about his unorthodox investigation, for he was no detective, not even a low rank gumshoe.

He wouldn't stop though. And so, he was following up on a piece of advice a drunkard had given him. Reckless and dumb, perhaps. But he had nothing else to go on. Torqin presented the entry fee at the stairs that disappeared beneath the road, and was let inside. Through several doors he was led by a guard, before finally he stepped through a door into a loud, crowd filled space. People were cheering around various rings where men and women alike were fighting in hand to hand combat, and money flew around as bets were made.

The quickest way to make a name for yourself was to go to The Alley and fight. Even if you didn't win every match, people of all kinds of import took notice. And while Torqin knew that fighting this way was not his strong suit, he figured he was at least tough enough to keep going, win or lose. He'd be the man that wouldn't stay down. He towered over the humans and other smaller races, as he moved fluidly toward one of the rings, only beaten in height by the Ithecal around, and no one could compete with those brutes for height. His name would become known. Someone would want him. He'd develop that relationship to get more information, for he had absolutely none. So he had to be known. For if he couldn't find Celeste, he could make her find him.

He approached the man at the head of one of these combat rings, gave his name, and the entry fee. The man eyed him up and smiled. Torqin watched as a fight before him finished, a pair of women, one with her legs around the other's neck, choking her to unconsciousness.

"Next fighters, to the ring! We have Tedward, a face you all know well I'm sure. He's had a mixed bag lately but his old lady left him this morning, so he's angry. Facing off against Tedward, we have a new contender, his first time here. He's a big buck, though he looks like a mama's boy to me. Come on down, Mama's Boy Torqin!"

Torqin parted through the crowd and entered the ring, feeling the eyes of those watching fall on him, interested in the new arrival. His opponent, a stout human with a particularly crooked nose stepped in, removing his shirt. Torqin did the same. Torqin held his hands up, sloppily for a brawler, but tried to think of one as his shield, the other as his club. He was here to endure the pain, for winning was the furthest thing from likely. The pair stalked around the ring glaring at one another, waiting out the final trill of betting.

"Fight!"
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Celeste Andaris
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Blood from a Stone (Celeste)

For whatever reason he had, Benji had told her that tonight, she was working at The Alley. She hated working there, the violence was too much for her and the people who went there regularly knew her, knew what she did for a living and so she spent half the night fighting off groping hands and the other half trying to get her money from her customers. Yet he'd insisted and he'd backhanded across the face when she even raised her head to look at him and make sure that she'd heard him right. That was alright with his contact, he'd told her as he'd grabbed her by the hair and dragged her to the mirror to look at the blood running down her face from a split lip. In The Alley, they liked their girls a bit roughed up and this contact? He'd probably be dumping her in a ditch when he was done with her, Benji whispered into her ear, his voice dripping malice. That was fine with him, Benji had said, but if she wasn't there and his breakfast on the table for him in the morning, she knew who would suffer. She would, of course, and she knew that, but that wasn't who Benji meant. He meant the twins, her babies. Tessa had whimpered and promised him that she'd be good, she'd be good and he didn't need to worry but he'd slapped her one more time, just to be sure that she got the message. It was the kind of blow which had her ears ringing and one side of her face was purple by the time she got there.

But there was definitely, without a doubt, something going on with Benji. Tessa knew it. Normally he sent her out for the night, told her where to work, what to charge, how many he expected her to service, that kind of thing. Tonight, though, he'd given her a slip of parchment and told her to hand this to the man at the reception desk there. Then, Benji said, she'd be handed to one of his contacts and she was to obey him. Well, "reception desk" was a very loose definition, but she'd done it and he'd looked at her and licked his lips. but he said nothing, just grabbing her by the arm and pulling her into a small, boxed off seating area, where they were watching the fight which was currently ongoing.

The fight which was happening was between two women, but Tessa paid it almost no heed. This was all too arranged, she didn't understand why Benji hadn't told her what was happening, but the man who had hold of her arm shoved her, throwing her to the floor. As she felt the wooden floorboards rip through her stockings and graze her knees, Tessa looked up at the man she'd been thrown in front of. He looked down at her with a contemptuous sneer on his face and reached out, grabbing her hair and pulling her so that she was kneeling in front of him. "This what Benji sent us?" There was no verbal answer, but evidently the man she had been sent here for got some response. "Hello beautiful. I see he prepared you just how we like it. Now, you're going to be a prize tonight. We're testing a new idea, bring in more interest. Whores as prizes, isn't it a good idea?" Tessa looked at him, not sure what to say and he smiled, cruelly. "So, we're going to watch the fight, and whoever wins gets you. Frank," he said shoving her over to what seemed to be his bodyguard. "Keep her occupied, don't want her getting lonely. Benji says she needs a lot of lookin' after."

Tessa looked up at Frank, but she had no time to do more than register his putrid breath as he turned her around. There, she thought. Look at that. The fighter looked like an adult version of her friend, Torqin. Frank's hands were on her and she was busy faking a response, but she kept one eye on the fight, watching the man who looked so like her dead friend.
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Torqin
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Blood from a Stone (Celeste)

Torqin stumbled backward as another fist hammered into his jaw, his arms flailing a bit, as he failed to keep his guard up. The last couple of bits hadn't gone well for the Lotharro. While the man he fought was no champion, he was certainly a bit more used to this than the bodyguard. At the very least, Torqin had been able to keep his feet beneath him, a product of his training with his mother, as he was pushed back in a daze. Blood dripped from his nose and his lower lip. He saw the man already advancing, and Torqin got his forearms up, fists clenched, expecting another rattling blow to the jaw.

Instead it was right to his exposed ribs, knocking the wind from him. He stabbed his right hand out in a cross, his left hand instinctively, mistakenly dropping as he did so. His blow caught the man in the face, and it felt like a momentary victory. Until his opponent's fist snapped his head back in a devastating uppercut. Torqin fell backward onto the wooden floor, right in front of a dark haired woman with torn hose at the knees, his eyes too blurry from sweat and daze to see her face clearly.

His opponent moved forward to give him no respite, and Torqin instinctively kicked out. His foot hit the man's shin, throwing his balance momentarily, just enough for Torqin to pull himself backward, and up into a sitting position as his opponent charged. The man dropped to his knees, straddling Torqin's legs, and began raining hammers down upon him. Torqin got his head down and hands up to protect his face and temples, as blow after blow thudded against him. He could outlast this man. He had to. There was no other choice. Celeste needed to hear his name. To know he was here for her.

And the blows slowed a bit. And as they did, Torqin responded with the same move his opponent had used against him earlier. An uppercut. But Tedward was expecting it, and pulled his face back, and Torq only managed to clip the very tip of his nose. The pullback provided an opening though, and Torqin pushed forward with his torso, bending the man backward a bit, their laps meeting as if in some lewd display instead of a combat match. Tedward attempted to rise, and Torqin shoved him, sending the man back onto his ass.

Torqin quickly got to his feet, and his opponent matched him. Sweat stung Torqin's eyes as they circled each other once more, both breathing heavily. Torqin was hurting all around, but it seemed his opponent was running lower on steam. Tedward moved in quickly, first with a jab, that lured Torqin's guard forward, only to smash Torqin's ear with a wild haymaker, throwing the Lotharro off balance, his own counter jab missing wildly, sending up laughs and jeers from the crowd.

"Tha' Torqin be gobblin' up punches like he starvin. Gobblin. Like a turkey!"

"Turkey Torqin!"

That nickname was chanted over and over by the crowd, as Torqin absorbed blow after blow, his vision swimming. There was a nausea in his stomach. and it was taking every fiber of his being to stay upright. His opponent threw another weak jab, and Torqin knew what followed. He ducked as the haymaker soared overhead, and connected a straight into the man's high ribs, stinging his wrist. It wasn't the greatest place for a punch, and the nerves in his hand numbed off and on for a few moments.

Tedward stepped forward, sending straight, stopped by Torqin's weakening guard, as the body guard stepped backward carefully. He remembered his mum teaching him about only pushing forward when it would throw the opponent off balance, not to match them. Let them come to you. He continued this around the circle, and the crowd continued jeering, calling him a coward now. The luring jab came once more and Torqin had an instinctual idea. As the haymaker followed, Torqin turned into it, and met it with the top of his crown.

The man's wrist snapped audibly as it struck the hard skull at that angle, and Tedward howled in pain, and the crowd grew quiet for a moment at this change in the flow of the fight. Tedward clutched at his arm, and Torqin sent a jab out first, striking the man in his unguarded face. He stumbled backwards, and Torqin grabbed him by the injured wrist. He kept a tight grip on it, just as he did with his club, with the reins of an unruly horse, the man howling as the broken bones shifted about under the pressure.

Tedward dropped to his knees in pain, as Torqin held him up by his injured arm. Torqin raised his left fist, and crashed it down into the man's eye. Once. Twice. Thrice. He didn't stop. He kept punching the man over and over until the socket of the eye was mangled, the man unconscious. He dropped him to the floor, his own legs trembling from the extreme exertion of that surge in adrenaline. He promptly hunched over at the waist and heaved up a bit of fluid from his stomach onto the floor, to the disgusted exclaims of those nearest.

Then the man that ran this ring step forward, grabbed Torqin's arm, and raised it over the Lotharro's crouched body. "Torqin is the winner!" The crowd cheered, and the man waved over at Celeste, indicating she was to come to him. "This woman is your prize for the night. She'll do anything you want." He looked at Celeste, "Anything he wants. You understand me girl? You can help carry him back though, this big bastard is heavy."

He draped the victor's arm around Celeste's shoulder, and shooed them out of the ring. He had the next fight to get ready. Torqin was still recovering, leaning against the woman, trying to keep his feet, and not cause her to fall over with them both. His head was swimming, and he needed to sit down. He didn't quite understand what was going on now, head all jumbled as it was. All he said was "The inn," and hoped she could find the way.
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Celeste Andaris
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Blood from a Stone (Celeste)

Frank, Tessa thought, probably hadn't had a woman for some time. His movements were urgent, frantic and despite her best efforts, it was all over with before the fight. She'd wanted to avoid that in case Frank had a friend, but it appeared not - which wasn't surprising considering his halitosis - he was happy, relatively speaking, to stand and grope her in public Tessa didn't mind that, frankly so long as he kept her back to him, she could breathe in cleaner air. He whispered filth in her ear and she faked a reaction to it - it was a normal night, really.

But then she heard them call his name.

Turkey Torqin?

Torqin?!

That couldn't be. It simply couldn't and Tessa looked at him. It looked like him. The Lotharro who had been her friend. How? How could it even... and then she was being called forward. Torqin was the winner? "Yes sir, evry'thin' he wants, sir." She said and she felt his arms wrapped around her. By all the Immortals but he was heavy. "Yes, sir, the Inn." This couldn't be him. It could not be the boy she had known, he was dead. Tessa remembered him. Remembered him dying. How could it be him?

"You took a righ' poundin' sir," the young woman holding on to him, best as she could, was hardly one to talk. She was bruised and battered, there was no doubting it. "I'll take good care of you." Stumbling with him, she did her best to hold him up but she was on to a loser, she knew that. Still, even though they must have looked like a pair of drunks, they got out of the Alley. "Which Inn, sir?" Tessa asked and he mumbled something at her which was largely incoherant. "Oh, that'n. A'right. Look, I know a place. Jus' 'ere." It was a small, abandoned house which she and her friend Lexxi used to turn tricks in. There were two rooms and a mattress on the floor. "I'm jus' gonna try an' see if I c'n patch you up a'right?"

Tessa more or less fell in the doorway with him. Lexxie was obviously servicing a john in the other room, judging by the screams of ecstasy she was faking and so Tessa brought him into a bare, but clean room. Helping him down, she tried to get him sitting propped up against the wall. "A'righ' so I've got some water 'ere. I've never 'ad a client more beat up'n me." Bringing the drink up to his mouth, serious brown eyes met his. "When I were a little girl, my friend Torqin, he saved my life. He was a Lotharro, too." She had a rag which she was cleaning his wounds with. "I didn't know it were a Lotharro name," and the Immortals knew, they all looked alike. "I'm gonna take good care of you. We can do whaev'r you want, a'righ?" Not taking her eyes off him as she saw that he was starting to at least come around a little, she moved her hand to start undressing him. Cos you won, didn't you? So now you get th'prize."

They shouldn't have called any other Lotharro Torqin, she thought as she realised that her hands on his clothes were trembling. That was her friend's name and no other Lotharro deserved it.
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Torqin
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Blood from a Stone (Celeste)

He heard the woman speak to him, as he focused solely on staying upright. The world was muffled as he slipped in and out of his daze. It seemed she was managing to hold him up with his assistance, and they left the Alley. Away from the cheering and jeering crowds, he was able to hear her amore clearly, asking which Inn he'd mentioned to her. He tried to tell of her the World's Beginning, but with his lip busted up, his exhaustion heavy on him, and his delirium at came at as more of "Worgls Begargles."

She seemed to know the way. That was good, because he certainly didn't. He half-walked, half-carried with her into a house, his mind not registering that this was, in fact, not his inn. Nor any inn whatsoever. What he did know was that some woman in this house was having a wonderful time, clearly the man she was with knew what he was doing. He felt himself put against a wall, and he slid down, thankful to be sitting. There was a coolness brought to his lips. Water. He drank it down greedily, hearing this woman's low class accent. She could definitely be a member of low town. Deep in low town.

Then he saw her eyes, and the haze instantly cleared. He knew these eyes. They hadn't changed a trial, not in the last decade and change. Her words were like an echo ringing in his head, as he realized that she'd found him. He heard her words, saying his name. Torqin had to grip his fist tight, driving his nails into his palm to keep from slipping back into his foggy daze, keeping his own dark eyes on hers. He didn't understand. Why was she unlacing his breeches with trembling hands. Why did she speak of him as if he weren't here? But was some forgone friend in her past. And why was she speaking as if she were an object? What was going on?

Torqin reached down with one hand, taking both of hers in its grasp, to stop her from undressing him further. "I am he. I am Torqin. I saved you from your father's beating. He liked to use a belt. And I've come back, to save you again. I will always come back for you, Celeste." He squeezed her hands comfortingly, giving her a truly rough looking smile, his gums slick in blood, his lip swollen and oozing, and one of his eyes nearly shut. His hand he'd been using to keep him focused through pain was planted against the floor, and the man started to stand, pulling Celeste with him. As he did, his trousers fell to his ankles, leaving him exposed. He quickly stooped to try and cover himself before Celeste saw, but the sudden movement pushed him behind his limits.

With a groan, he passed out, falling face first into the mattress nearby. Half his body laid upon the cushion, the lower half upon the wooden floor, his bare ass exposed comically. And there he'd remain until morning, unable to be roused by simple shaking or noise.
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Celeste Andaris
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Blood from a Stone (Celeste)

"I know it well, sir," she said, reassuringly, as he told her where he was staying. He couldn't speak properly, she knew, so she had to just do her best. Tessa felt her knees buckling at the weight of the man she was trying to hold up and she knew that she simply could not keep hold of him any longer. They were close to the house and in they went. She watched him, concern on her face as he slid down the wall, but she tended to him as best as she could and she tried not to be angry at him for having the name of her only friend, who had died at the hands of a cruel man, father to a more cruel one. It wasn't fair and it wasn't right, Tessa firmly believed it. Torqin had been her friend and she had been the reason he died.

Because she'd been disobedient.

When she was disobedient, people she loved died and now, Tessa had two people she loved more than anyone or anything else in the world. She would not ever be disobedient, no not ever. If anything happened to her daughters because of her, like had happened to Torqin she would die.

But he spoke, this Lotharro and he talked about a woman whose father beat her. Maybe all Lotharro were the sort of heroic type that Torq was, she thought, but he called her by a strange name. Celeste. It was odd, not a name she'd heard before. However, he stood and she tried to catch him as he fell,but she was too slow. Celeste looked down at him and sighed. She couldn't leave him here like this. So, she put all her strength into it and hoisted him onto the mattress, then she moved to a small cupboard and pulled out a blanket from there. It wasn't much, she knew, but in the morning, when he woke up there would be a cup of water next to him and he would have a blanket over him.

Then, with a feeling of dread in the pit of her stomach, Tessa Anders went home to explain to her husband why the night had not been a success.
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Alistair
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Blood from a Stone (Celeste)

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Celestessa


Knowledges
Caregiving: Tending to an injured man
Caregiving: Preserving dignity
Discipline: Not showing the shame of public humiliation
Discipline: Not letting disgust show
Endurance: The resounding pain of a blow across the face
Endurance: Smiling with a split lip
Strength: Holding up a man twice your size
Strength: Walking with a deadweight

Loot: N/A
Injuries: N/A
Renown: Small (+10)

Points 15

Torqin


Knowledges
Unarmed Combat (Heart of Stone): Keeping your feet beneath you
Unarmed Combat (Heart of Stone): Right handed cross punch
Unarmed Combat (Heart of Stone): Kicking your opponent's leg to disrupt balance
Unarmed Combat (Heart of Stone): Defending your head and face
Unarmed Combat (Heart of Stone): Wear your opponent out, then attack
Unarmed Combat (Heart of Stone): Right handed uppercut
Unarmed Combat (Heart of Stone): Let your opponent come to you
Endurance: Receiving an uppercut to the jaw

Loot: N/A
Injuries: Busted Lip, Battered face, sore ribs, daze, nausea, lightly treated. Should mostly heal on own, but be quite sore for several trials.
Renown: Small (+10)

Points 15

Comments: Hey, folks! Apologies for taking forever; here are your grades! Good fighting scene, and a very cool (if gritty - which is even better) thread.
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