Seated on the shores of Lake Lovalus, Rharne serves as the home of the Lighting Knights, the Thunder Priestesses, and the Merchant's guild. This beautiful trade city is filled with a happy and contented people who rarely need an excuse to party.
The Pit was exactly as the merchant had described. It wasn’t nearly as glorious and well maintained as The Slave Pits in Augiery, but the small patch of dirt and the commoners surrounding it’s fence contributed to the charm of it all.
Ministry was wearing a similar disguise as she had worn the previous day, and her makeup sadly showed little improvement. One of the escorts from downstairs the night before had nearly bawled her eyes out when she had seen how Ministry matted down her hair, and so now it was in a much more delicate style. She had arrived at The Pit just as two men were finishing their drunken brawl. People from the sidelines were cheering and calling out one name or the other in between the men yelling and cursing each other.
A drunken woman beside Ministry yells, “You show him, Colt!”
She smiles, and then sways off to the side to get a better look when her drink sloshes onto Ministry. “By Ilaren! Pardon me, miss.”
The two exchange apologies and move on. By the end of the fight, Colt seems to have beaten the other man he was fighting. The group of people they were with, along with the woman, leave The Pit bickering with one another about how the fight wasn’t fair.
The Pit, after all, wasn’t that bad. It’s good for a quick tussle, but Ministry began to doubt why she came. After all, if she were recognized the knights would surely be able to capture her.
Last edited by Ministry on Fri Aug 31, 2018 7:55 pm, edited 1 time in total. word count: 268
"I guess so," Leeson said absentmindedly, replying to a question from a drunken stranger that he likely paid not much mind to. "I mean I come here because it pays, I guess."
The stranger nodded. "Who's your next fight?" They asked.
Leeson shrugged. "I go on next."
"No, who's your next fight?"
"Hm?"
"I asked you who your next fight is."
"I... Oh. What did I say?"
"You said 'I go on next'."
"Oh. I don't know."
"No, I'm certain that's what I said."
"No, I meant 'I don't know' in response to 'Who is your next fight', not in response to whether or not I said what you heard me say."
"So who's the next fight?"
"Oh, I don't know."
The stranger frowned, obviously wanting to see a good bout. Leeson sighed.
"Alright," He said. "Tell you what. Bet fifteen gold against me, and I'll let you pick the most devilish, combat hardy person in this bar, and I'll instigate a match."
The stranger's face lit up like a sacrificial fire. "Really?" They said.
"Sure pal."
"I'll bet thirty if you fight her!" They said, pointing to a Naerikk woman near the bar.
"Wh-... What? Why her?"
"She's a boogeyman. Heart of darkness. My mom used to tell me about Naer when I was little. Call her a whore."
"A what?"
"A whore."
"I-..." Leeson said, glancing over at the woman. "I don't think that's really very mora-"
"It's too late, I put down the thirty GN."
"What?"
"HEY LADY, MY BUDDY THINKS YOU'RE A WHORE!" The stranger yelled at the Naer, pointing to Leeson.
"What, nonononon-"
"HE SAID YOU'RE TIGHTER THAN HANDCUFFS BUT COLDER THAN PRISON AND IF YOU HAVE A PROBLEM WITH IT YOU CAN MEET HIM IN THE FIGHTING RING!"
Leeson turned, shooting daggers at the stranger.
"I already put the thirty down." The stranger said.
Leeson turned back. "I DIDN'T SAY THA-"
"YES HE DID!" The stranger interrupted. "ALSO HE SAID THAT YOU COULDN'T PAY HIM ENOUGH MONEY TO UH... uh... HOLD YOUR HAND! CAUSE IT'S PROBABLY SWEATY!" They elbowed Leeson, as if sharing a joke, then turning to address the crowd. "C'MON EVERYBODY! FIGHT! FIGHT! FIGHT! FIGHT!" They began to chant.
And, of course, the intoxicated crowd chanted alongside them, as they always do.
"That would be five copper nels," the bartender said, passing over a small washcloth.
"Thank you," Ministry said. She hands over the coins and, as she begins trying to wipe out the stain from earlier off her clothes, she quickly finds herself being insulted at and then chanted to fight. Were people always this vulgar?
Her eyes drift to the side of the man who shouted at her, and pointed at his buddy. Even if the friend of the man was trying to demonstrate some sort of confidence, his regality gave him away. His posture was too straight, and he seemed out of place among the bar of drunk and crazy Rharnians. He didn’t look half as intimidating as most creatures or warriors in Idalos. While fighting him could attract some unwanted attention, she had always wondered what it would be like to be in a fighting ring. Usually it was the slaves in Augiery that did that, but being able to participate in one could be an entirely new experience. Besides, it’s difficult to offend a Naerikk and get away with it.
Ministry raises her voice, but it’s still brought under by the crowd, "I’ll fight him.”
They seem to ignore her and continue chanting to fight.
She says louder, “I’ll fight him!”
The crowd seems pleased once she raises her voice to match their own, and she can’t help but feel a tiny bit of relief that the Rharnians are not as quiet and well-worded as the Naerikk tend to be. The people at her side begin to urge her towards The Pit, and she enters the ring.
