The Bottomless Tankard. What a stupid tavern name. [O]

[Tsan'lo]

Tsan'lo let out a little sigh as she leaned against the bar counter, staring around with a unimpressed look in her eyes. The tavern was rather close to the Feroxi borders, and it was showing. Barbarian halfbreeds everywhere. She did not know why, but it seemed like the border between Ylissean and Feroxi had clearly mixed into something very horrible into this town. That being very brutish males and females acting and dressing like some snotty Ylissean nobility. It was entertaining for a while, yes, but after about twenty brutes trying to ask her for some tea or some bullcrap like that, she had started to openly keep her iron blade out.

The thing that had gotten to this eternal hellhole was not even worth it in the end. She had been supposed to go about and protect the town from bandits, but apparently some other mercenary had already gone and somehow defeated them. On his own. That alone had made her almost kill the local mayor, making her waste all the time to walk to the town instead of spending time gathering money otherwise.

Ah, yes, speaking of gathering money otherwise... Let it be said that about 75% of the people that did not eventually ask her for tea asked if she wanted to make some money... Ahem, some other way. After the latest seeker had gotten a bloody nose the others had decided to stay back, leaving the little angry foreigner alone at the counter. She dropped her last few coins onto the counter with a loud clink, sighing.

"Strongest ale I can get with that price. Quickly."

Penelope

[Penelope]

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the drunken huntsman

words: 296| tags: Tsan'lo | notes: spice.

 
"Careful 'bout gettin' drunk around this lot." Words of wisdom offered up by someone that must not have caught that punch to the nose. The girl that stepped in alongside Tsan'lo was either fearless or naive-- or both, given her Feroxi styled attire. There was a windswept look about her and the manner with which she nodded towards a serving girl spoke of confidence. Her hair carried the rich color of dark chocolate and she had irises to match. Fair-skinned and faultlessly so, the musculature in her arms and abdomen painted fitness across her image. She was dressed-- well, not like a man but certainly not in a dress. A short coat and thin shirt, trousers snug about her hips and boots that reached just under her calves. The garment was lined in snowy white fur, likely fox skin to any who had an eye for the sort. A bow in its simple casing hung from one shoulder and there rested a quiver of arrows against her right hip.

"They'd sooner take advantage of some Ylissian prat with her nose in the air but I wouldn't put it past'em to try anything without a tail between its legs." Was that a joke? The Feroxi girl looked Tsan'lo's way after the comment. A glance and a smile, before a fat and balding man stepped out from what was likely the kitchens. Grease or sweat or both seemed to cling to him and what little hair he had left on his head was made up for everywhere else. Right down to the bushy, beardless mustache that covered his mouth from view. He moseyed right on over to the pair, looking between first one and the other. His voice was as gruff as his appearance.

"Which wunnaya is it?"

made by Wolf of GS

[Tsan'lo]

Tsan'lo didn't pay much attention to the female that had entered, simply waving her arm dismissively to the man. "If your beard isn't large enough to cover your ears and if they are not full of earwax anyways, it was me who called your greasy being here." The fat man for a moment glared at Tsan'lo, only to gain something similar from her as the man simply grunted, grabbing the coins she had left on the counter as he then headed back to where he had come for for a moment.

Tsan turned her head to the side for a moment, eyeing the female next to her up and down once before returning her glance forwards. The female was not anything to really pay attention to as long as you had no male organs that would think your thinking for you. And, as far as she was concerned, she had nothing like that. Although her rather gender neutral voice and very boyish physique made her seem as gender neutral as one could get. Her fingers drummed against the counter as her mind escaped to her dilemma; what to do once she had finished wasting her money for crappy ale. Maybe she could kill one of those people who would want to... Hire, her.

The fat blob of grease and sweat finally arrived with her drink as she ripped it from his hands, slamming the mug against the counter once as she then begun to chug it down slowly. Glug, glug, glug, glug. She then slammed it back down, blinking rapidly as a few tears fell down her eyes. That brew was very strong and bitter. Of course, it wouldn't be enough to truly daze her, but she hadn't excepted something this strong and potent from a fat blob of grease.

Penelope

[Penelope]

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a slippery handshake

words: 218 | tags: Tsan'lo | notes: now wut's dat dere?

Call it womanly intuition. Piper spied the other girl's actions through the corner of her vision, angling her eyes in that direction without turning her head. She stayed curiously quiet while the moldy male huffed out a grunt and filled in his order. It was during their mysterious mediums chugging that he and Penelope conducted their business. A subtle gesture that wasn't quite worthy of the title 'sleight of hand', she simply reached in his direction and upturned her palm. Black, fingerless gloves. The man eyed the hand and then the archer, beady orbs narrowing between the rolls of carpet he had for eyebrows. Appearing to scratch at his stomach-- pulling his off-white shirt upwards some to hint at all sorts of disgusting-- the man would slap something into that waiting palm with his opposite hand. They were just beginning to separate when Tsan'lo slammed her mug down. To the sharp of sight Piper's fingers would close about a slip of paper before that hand began to pull away. She flashed a toothy smile at the androgynous ale-killer,

"Not half bad. Any gal that can put down a tincture tankard like that could probably knock a wyvern on its tail. Or at least she'll feel like she can in about ten minutes." The comment came with a wink.  

made by Wolf of GS

[Tsan'lo]

She raised her eyebrow lazily at the woman's comment, shaking her head once. "Bleh. Not enough alcohol in this to make me drunk. Would need around fifty of these first, and even then I would die from grease poisoning first." She wiped her mouth once as some globules of the ale flew from her face. She then took the mug once more as she begun to glug it down, glug, glug, glug, glug. "And even then I'm pretty sure this has no alcohol. Doesn't taste like it at all. Way too greasy." She stuck her tongue out as she blinked, a few more tears rolling down her eyes from the bitter taste.

She then returned to leaning against the counter as she ignored the female, thinking about her minimalistic employment chances once more. She could try and cross the border over to Ferox and see if the barbarians had any work, but at the same time she had heard that the border was so heavily guarded that no-one could really make it trough and the main gate was so far away from where she was. Or maybe... Maybe she could head back and admit defeat. The borderlands here had not offered her anything except crossbred ylissean feroxians and shitty ale.

It sounded tempting.

Penelope

[Penelope]

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things to do, places to be

words: 255 | tags: Tsan'lo | notes: ggwp.

"You're clearly cut from a different flock," the Feroxi woman's voice sounded both amused and skeptical. The conversation didn't seem to hold too much of her attention, however, for as Tsan'lo took up the mug again Penelope's eyes fell towards her hands. Both lifted onto the bar, the archer using her forearms to lean against the counter while her fingers unfurled a tiny slip of paper. It was crumpled and covered on the inside by chicken scratch that as hardly legible. Her eyes scanned it once, twice, and then the paper was squashed into her palm again before being stuffed into a coat pocket. Her eyes bat back towards the mug-chugging female. A smile tilted one corner of her mouth upwards, hinting at surprisingly white teeth behind those peach colored lips.

"Best of luck to yeah. Mind the ale-- tends to sneak up on you." A small nod of her head and she was already turning to leave. There was a saucy strut to the way she stepped, as though she were used to being light on her feet. Whatever thoughts had been raging amongst her brief companion's head were unspoken and unsought after, making the conflict of where to go irrelevant to one such as Penelope. She was no thief and no employer, distress of that nature wasn't her concern right then. At least not while it remained unspoken. She would thread through the crowd, paying no heed to one of the cat calls that flew her way as she made for the exit.

made by Wolf of GS

[Tsan'lo]

"Meh." She shrugged a bit as the woman left, ignoring the catcalls that were heard from behind as she went. Sometimes, deep down, she was in a way annoyed nobody paid attention to her like that. Of course she would hate it if there WAS any attention like that thrown at her, but at the very least she would get some acknowledgement over her gender. She looked at the mug one more time before letting out a grunt, pushing it away. She then proceeded to stand up, stretching herself for a bit and wiping her nose before taking a step forwards.

Thump.

She took a step back as she rubbed her nose, having collided against someone. She was just about to comment on them watching out, only to suddenly have a rather strong hand grab her by her throat and hang her up. "Ay', yer' punchin' me on the face wasn' very nice, lil' bitch. Maybe we'll need to get som' privacy and then you can apologize long and hard, ay'?" The man laughed, his nose still rather crunched and damaged, but there was no longer blood flowing from it. His breath smelled of ham, grease and that little hint of tea that just showed that he was "sophisticated" enough.

The man had friends too, just to rub it in that even if she managed to free herself, she would just then be knocked out by one of the others and then be shared between them. She struggled for a moment under the man's hold, trying to kick him in the chest weakly. The cook or whatever the man that supplied her with the ale was not lifting a finger to help, nor was anyone else in the bar. She tried to reach for her swords, only for her hands to be ripped away from their holster.

Penelope

[Penelope]

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contestant

words: 734 | tags: Tsan'lo | notes: ain't gone yet

If she paid any mind to the attention she didn't show it. Or rather, she didn't bask in it as some may have. It was hard to argue that she wasn't looking for looks wearing an outfit such as she was. Yet whatever their grins and slimy noises to a man there wasn't a single person there that attempted to lay a hand on her as she left. Penelope didn't push. She didn't shove nor did she foul mouth anyone out of her way as she strolled towards the door. Each step carried her at an angle different than before and it was in that manner that she maneuvered through the crowd. The little party that was soon to accost her ale-drinking acquaintance was encountered just before she reached the door. They moved passed her-- and that only grabbed at her attention.

"Bernardo!" The voice that cut in was sharp and Penelope's scowl was sharper. She had half-turned, following the group with her eyes as they pushed their way back to the bar. Naturally people gave the whole scene looks but down to the fat barkeep not a one stepped in. This was the sort of tavern whose muscle didn't step in until things started breaking and the typical crowd was rough enough around the edges. A gal that came here alone was more often than not on her own. But for whatever reason the archer's voice seemed to pluck away their attention.

"What's this here, Bernardo?" Slowly, Penelope drifted in the incident's direction, "Yeah just takin' what'cha want now? Got friends to help yeah take it?"

"Ay', Piper." The man with his hand about Tsan'lo answered gruffly, uncertainly. That pinched face swung in the archer's direction and was made all the nastier by a frown. He didn't seem intimidated, really, but he clearly tried to justify what it was that he was doing. The one holding Tsan'lo by the arms, however, seemed nervous.

"None'yer business. We're jus' gonna teach this lil' cunt some manners, ay'?" He all but spit, lips peeling back in a growl as his eyes returned to his prisoner. The grip on Tsan'lo's throat would tighten, biefly.

"What, all three of yeah?" Penelope had stopped a full stride away. Her laugh and chuckle were teasing, to which the brute replied in kind.

"Aye, she's feisty this'un. Got knives an' a case attitude. Don't ya? Like to hit people, ay'?" If the frown had been nasty then his grin should be unnerving. Mostly because of his breath, "But we got yer' knives, don't we? Eh heh heh heh heh."

"Bernardo, I hate to be the one to break it to you," Penelope moved closer in a saucy saunter, left hand lifting to fall on the thug's shoulder in a friendly fashion. Her voice retained its smile and amusement, "But yeah were pretty ugly to begin with."

A couple of chuckles signified that whatever their indifference to helping more than a few of the tavern's patrons were watching. The immediate vicinity was filled with voices more hushed than the loud and rowdy banter from before. The barbarian holding the girl's arms was grinning like an idiot. Bernardo released Tsan'lo in a tiffy, letting her drop back to the floor while he turned on the archer. Spittle flew from gnashing teeth as his anger flared up in her direction.

"Ye think so!? Say yer' wantin' to join 'er, ay' Piper? 'Cause I say between the two of ye I get t'keep more fer meself." Though she let her arm fall away Piper didn't back down in the slightest. Her chin crept upwards and she met him stare for stare. There was no longer any humor in her voice and her smile was slow to fade.

"Careful," she said softly, "You're makin' it my business. We can settle this without violence!" The latter was announced and she stepped away from Bernardo to look between his lackies. Her eyes passed across Tsan'lo, whose arms were presumably being held still. The volume of her voice captured the attention of much of the tavern, though, especially the ones that hadn't been paying attention before. Her eyes slipped from one thug to another and her hands perched atop her hips.

"I'm stronger than any man here!-- Certainly stronger than you lot. So let's settle this in a'more civilized fashion yeah? You an' me, Bernardo. A contest of strength."

made by Wolf of GS

[Tsan'lo]

She hated having people get involved. It had always annoyed her, even back in youth when she was still training blindly under his father. She had hated the way he would come and grab her shoulders, correcting her stance. She hated the way her mother would stop her from beating on a dummy to come eat. She had hated the way her father had stopped her eaten to pull her away for some fishing. She had always hated interceptions and people coming over to mess up what she was involved in, be it helping her or getting against her. It made her feel useless.

The words that the two traded never really reached her ears. She had no real interest in them apart for stuff like insulting words that were thrown at her. They just made her angrier, more ready to kill all of the people involved at some point in her life. Her ears locked completely as her eyes then wandered around. She could possibly rip herself free and strangle the man behind her, resulting in her gaining a body shield to throw at the person at the side, leaving her with the man who had tried to strangle her earlier on. She could stab him.

She proceeded to try and put the plan into motion.

She yanked her hands forwards roughly, resulting in only the man grabbing her by the back of her neck and lifting her up before slamming her face against the counter. "Oy', keep yerself steady, cunt. I don' wanna break the merchandise." He sneered a bit, spitting on her. She could feel blood rushing trough her nose as her cheek rested against the counter. She could smell the grease that was stuck at the bottom of her mug, that happened to be next to her head.

Penelope

[Penelope]

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strength of arms

words: 768 | tags: Tsan'lo | notes: time 2 gtfo

The boast had earned more than a few raucous replies, not the least of which was Bernardo's own bellowing laughter. The interruption afterwards was the perfect punctuation, the sobering moment of brutality driving Penelope's words home. For better or worse, it was time to get this over with.

"What're the stakes?" he snarled, to which Penelope listed off her demands in rapid succession. The casualness in her voice spoke of lazy arrogance, confidence and hubris. A step, two, carried her to where bandit number two had his little androgynous hostage pinned against the bar counter. Penelope plucked the mug of ale from the bartop. She would down the remainder of its contents before rattling off her bet,

"If I win the girl walks. You win, she won't be alone when yeah take her upstairs. To the strongest go the spoils."

"Fine," the bandit grunted, "But ye mind yer legs girlie, 'cause ye ain't gonna be able t'stand on 'em after tonigh'." Cheers and applause made scattered pockets throughout the crowd, which were more or less all spectating now. They made way as Bernardo turned around and within moments had cleared off portion of table. Piper followed him to the seat as though she had done this all before. They took up places opposite to one another, eyes to eyes with the stretch of table between them. Bernardo was grinning as he put his arm up, elbow slamming down onto the wood with enough force to cause several plates and mugs to rattle in protest. The pose was classic: they were going to /arm wrestle/ over this. Piper met him smile for smile. No doubt Tsan'lo wasn't feeling too great, greasy countertops aside.

Penelope's arm was toned and she was surely fit. That she carried a bow meant she worked with her arms but in comparison to slinging a sword or an axe the strain was relatively little. Yet she was calm as could be. Ambling to her seat and brushing it off before straddling it, shifting the empty mug to her left hand to free up her right. The sheer size difference in musculature was obvious when she brought her own limb up to the plate. His hand all but enveloped hers. The third mate, the one that had stayed relatively quiet throughout all of this aside from laughing and grinning like a fool, started to count them down. Both arms tensed and wavered, preparing for the inevitable moment.

"Arigh'. Uhh, ten. Nine--"

"The tits yeah doin', ay'?" Bernardo shot the grunt a glare, "Ya count from three."

"Said you can tell a man by his friends," Penelope stated slyly.

"Keep yer yappin', bitch. Ye'll shut up real fast after ye' be losin'."

Scattered laughter dotted hushed murmurs. Their little ordeal had center stage, now. Any in the vicinity were watching. More than a few coins changed hands as side bets were placed. The smaller thug narrowed his eyes but broke beneath his companion's glare. Swallowing, he took up the count again.

"Um. Three. One--" Crunch. Tsan'lo's mug broke across Bernardo's face with the sound of tin slapping against wet meat. Wood from the mug splintered away from its top and drizzles of its contents splashed outwards. The blow cracked over the bandit's right temple and slacked his jaw, his eyes going wide just before they began to roll upwards and into his head. Piper followed through before catching his chin with the bottom of the mug on a back swing. Clamping down on his hand with her own she used his arm to push the thug backwards, off the bench. Laughter exploded from their onlookers. The remaining two bandits were in shock, likely still trying to wrap their heads around what had just happened. Penelope didn't intend to give them the time. She was already standing, rounding on the boy that had been counting down. Is Tsan'lo wanted to free herself, now was likely the best chance she'd get.

"Y-You cheat'n--!"

"Yeah think so?" Penelope's words sliced neatly into his accusation. She let her eyebrows furrow and her own voice was sharp. Two steps and she was in his face. "'Cause I disagree. And you ain't gonna like it when we disagree."

All around the tavern the typical rowdy behavior had kicked back into full swing. Fights had broken out over lost bets and now tavern-owned muscle was stepping in to prevent the loss of property. The barkeep was shouting and waving a dish rag. Somewhere near the back a woman screamed. Bernardo's pockets were being looted. The whole place was getting just a little more chaotic.

made by Wolf of GS

[Tsan'lo]

Oh. The tables turned in a way she did not expect. She had expected her to lose on purpose and then kill the man before he could do anything to them upstairs, but... Eh, it worked. And for once in her life, she was thankful for someone saving her from a fate worse than death. The man holding her arms had relaxed his hold a lot as he just stared at the sight in awe. Poor fool, poor fool. He'd regret being too busy with enjoying the sights and not paying enough attention to the one he was supposed to guard.

Tsan'lo suddenly ripped her hands forwards, this time actually managing to free herself as she then grabbed the man by his throat, looking around for a moment before proceeding to grab his iron sword and then stabbing it trough his skull around three times. Her fighting style was brutal, more so than what was necessary. He was dead by the first strike, but it was always satisfying to make sure that the person she was killing was indeed dead. She proceeded to push the corpse of a man over the counter before picking up her bronze sword, swinging them in the air a few times to make sure she would be ready.

Her eyes narrowed for a moment as she looked around. The one who had held her by the throat was down on the ground, and that left the onlooker. She glared daggers at the tavernkeeper for a moment before suddenly leaping forwards, snarling with animalistic rage as she then sliced her swords once in an X shape. The man was too pre-occupied with Piper to notice, roaring in pain as his back begun to bleed heavily. She spat onto the ground as the man fell onto his knees...

Only for him to suddenly sweep his legs, causing her to fall over as he was suddenly on top of her, about to start beating her down. She closed her eyes, breathing a heavy snort once before suddenly reaching her head forwards, biting the man's neck as he screamed in pain, pulling himself backwards from Tsan'lo. She noticed the opening as she then thrust herself forwards, proceeding to stab both of her swords trough his gut and twisting them in a very brutal way, earning another scream from him before she then kicked his corpse off of her blades, wiping the blood off of them.

Penelope

[Penelope]

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outie

words: 188 | tags: Tsan'lo | notes: exit.

The archer was long gone from that mess. While she had kicked the mop bucket over to keep a kid from drowning she wasn't about to roll around in the puddles afterwards. No sooner had goon number three gone down than was she twisting away from his falling figure and moving towards the door. More than one her hand came up, bracing against the back of someone that was about to run her over. Fights here were common, but drawing steel and killing things wasn't. The brawls began to dissipate when people started letting loose death screams. More than one frightened face looked towards Tsan'lo. The barkeep looked like he had seen a ghost.

By the time Penelope was out the door the bouncers of the establishment were drawing weapons and other patrons were hot on her heels. The whole place would be cleared out within minutes, leaving only the dead, unconscious and heavily inebriated behind. Just the tavern staff and the 'swordmaster'. Penelope ground her teeth as she booted her way through the street. Her mutter was dark, almost a growl and ultimately inaudible.

"What a waste."

made by Wolf of GS