[FIN] Rain Isn't the Only Problem [Nyiim/Xilarn]

[Fluffesu]

((Xil is rolling to fend off looters...
And Xil has failed.))

Xilarn glowered down into the little clay mug through narrowed and mistrusting eyes. Somehow, the golden liquid held captive there had a peculiar sandy haze to it; one that the Fire Earthling found he didn't entirely trust. Could be dirt, which seemed appropriate in the windy Tale-scape. Could be poison. Also plausible. Many natives still lacked a degree of fondness for the Obans who had once enslaved them. Either way, after setting the mug back against the tabletop, he nudged it away with his fingers, muttering disinterestedly.

His clay orbs scanned the area unamusedly. Needless to say, the Tale tavern did not remind him of home. It was dark, creaky, and dank, and it's only occupants were an old barkeep and some unsavory-looking lads sitting nestled in the corner, whispering amongst themselves. Xilarn hummed. Oban taverns seemed much more lively; brighter, somehow, despite the building being made of clay that baked in the sunlight and offered little leeway for light to pass.

After camping alone for weeks, the thought of lively had appealed to him. But this just depressed him further...  

[bobaTJ]

Nyiim failed. Hard.

The tavern was just fine for Nyiim. After all, he had never lived anywhere but Tale for the whole of his life unless one considered camping out at a location "living." Rather than creaky and dark, to him the pub was charmingly rustic, and there was no better place to meet others. This building in particular was a bit of a walk from home but then so were most things these days.

The young man entered, revealing to the room for a moment the cream-colored raptrix that waited loyally for him outside the front door, watching to be sure he made it in alright. That being done, he walked to the barkeep to order an ale, crossed the room and sat down. It was just a normal day in a normal life of-- wait. Was that an Oban?

Nyiim's eyes lingered on the dark-skinned young man for longer than they might have with anyone else. Generally speaking, Obans were not welcome here... or anywhere but Oba, frankly. He didn't have any particular issue with any particular person, but it was still a bit odd to see a man who might have been an enemy three months ago sitting in a pub and glaring at the room. Nyiim took a swig from his mug. This one in particular looked sort of familiar, why was that? Had he been amongst those captured? Nyiim couldn't be sure and was too caught-up in considering it to realize that he was frowning and staring.

Fluffesu

 

[Fluffesu]

grasshopper pie

Boooo, we have to let bandits rob them now. XP Xil proll deserves it, so I guess that's okay. XP

The prickle of eyes on him skated along Xilarn's spine, inviting an annoyed and unwelcoming grimace to his face. He'd known he wasn't likely to be warmly invited anywhere the savages called home, but for whatever reason he'd simply expected to be left alone. Fat chance of that, he supposed. From the corner of his eye, he could see the offender; a rather broad Leaf male wearing the usual savage garb of the Tandaji natives. Xilarn huffed, turning his head to fix a point-blank glower on the man that apparently took such an interest in him. "Having trouble tearing your gaze away?" The Fire Earthling grumbled, realizing only belatedly that the bulkier man could probably take him, if he really didn't want to deal with Xil's antics.

But he was too far in to back out now; his pride wouldn't let him. So, he squared his shoulders and perched back on his seat, straightening himself in an attempt to appear less...small. "I realize I'm almost a novelty to you natives, but please, mind your own business." With a derisive snort, he whipped back around, making it a point to place his gaze firmly on the table before him, despite there being very little of actual interest there.

With his attention so clearly rapt on other things, Xilarn hardly noticed the shady bunch lingering interspersed around the room. They donned dark cloaks and lithe frames and made it a point to sit in pairs, rather than a group, in an effort to draw less attention to themselves. And apparently, it was working, considering Xil's focus had more immediately hit the unobtrusive (albeit still staring) Leaf Earthling...  

[bobaTJ]

Ah, he had been staring, hadn't he? Nyiim blinked as the spell was broken and raised a brow at the Oban young man. He'd deserved that, he supposed. Of course an apology might have been in order if the other man didn't so suddenly turn his back to him.

Ah well, you couldn't please everyone. Not every Oban he had seen had been especially arrogant. In fact they had been selfless at times. He thought he recognized that scowl, though. Certainly they had met before under less public circumstances, but he didn't imagine he'd be recognized himself.

As the focus of his attentions had been ripped away, Nyiim couldn't help but notice a new group of patrons, all dressed quite similarly with faces obscured. There were quite a few of them, too. Racism and assumptions didn't sit well with the Leaf tribesman but there was something not-quite-right with this happy crowd. A tension began building in his back as he casually took another swig from his mug. The rain pounding the rooftop and the gentle murmurs of conversation were all that could be heard.

Fluffesu

 

[Fluffesu]

grasshopper pie

Finding his drink too untrustworthy to ingest and not holding high hopes for the food, coupled with the stares of savages (that he really should be learning to expect at this point), Xilarn decided he may as well take his leave. He dropped a few coins on the table and rose, collecting his bag from the floor and his weapon from where it leaned against the wall. Despite the dangers of the savannah, it really was a much more welcoming place. He strode to the door, hardly registering the hooded fellow there that leaned against the frame, arms crossed.

But when an arm extended, snagging the hood of his cloak and giving it a gentle tug, Xil spun to glower at the man. "Can I help you-"

"Yer not goin' anywhere, are ya, laddy?" The person's - definitely male, by the gruff sound of his voice and probably a good decade older that Xilarn, as well - head was lowered, face obscured by the shadows cast by his cowl. A prickle of unease seeped into the Fire Earthling's frame.

Xil's brows furrowed as he gave a tug to try and free himself. "I thought to head back out to-"

"Yeh thought wrong."

Xil had barely a moment to bristle at being repeatedly cut off. Even less time to peer beneath the shadows of the man's cowl and glimpse icy (or was it silvery?) skin accented with dark stubble. The instant he tried to tug away with a little added force, the arm tangled in his cloak pulled up, dragging Xil's hood over his face and yanking it down hard. In a scramble to right himself and reclaim his vision, the Fire lad was ill-prepared for the boot that landed against his chest and sent him toppling backward with a sharp gasp and a clatter of toppling chair and table.

From his place on the ground - legs tangled in the limbs of a wooden stool and arm draped almost casually across an upturned table - Xil huffed, tossing his head back to flick his hood away. This man was an utter moron. Surely there were more patrons than thieves in the tavern, and despite his Fire heritage, it seemed unlikely that this degree of roughhousing and destruction would be tolerated. But as Xil cast his gaze around, he realized that most of the people he'd noted before actually were wearing the bandits' hoods.  

[bobaTJ]

When it came to large groups of hooded strangers, instinct was not necessarily the right way to go. Nyiim had been able to watch curiously as the cloaked figure approached the Fire clansman and presumed that the motive was likely racism and the young man could handle himself. Still he paid close attention, watching for any drawn weapons or co-conspirators.

It was the kick that startled him into action, as minor as it may be. Toying with hoods was like the teasing of schoolboys but a strike like that was unabashed violence. Nyiim suddenly found himself at his feet and heard his chair slide over the rough wooden floor. Several heads in the room turned to him and he was distinctly aware that he and his bow were not going to be able to take on seven of them regardless of training or size. Damn it. Now he was involved.

There was a tension in his back while he searched the darkened faces of the bandits, then the shock of the other patrons and finally the barkeep. Had he known this was coming? Was this an inside job?

He'd swear he saw one of them reaching beneath their cloak for a weapon.

"Leave him alone," he insisted, although he wasn't sure why. Perhaps he'd rather the focus be on him than on some poor Fireclan. They'd be less likely to try and kill one of the other races, wouldn't they? There was no logic in this moment, only raw nerves.

Fluffesu

 

[Fluffesu]

grasshopper pie

With a bit of effort, Xil began the process of untangling himself from the floor. Despite his embarrassment about being overturned so easily, the process of actually rising didn't make him feel any better. He kicked the chair to the side, braced himself on the lip of the overturned table and- paused. The butt of his spear tapped against his chest, picked up and now wielded by the rouge that had kicked him only moments before. Xilarn glowered at the painted wooden end of his spear, his clay-colored gaze traveling up its length to settle on the hand that grasped it now. "That's mine," came the snap of words from his lips.

"'S a bit of a nuisance, lad," the bandit replied, giving an extra derogatory tap to Xil's chest for good measure. "Despite the poor craftsmanship-" The Fire boy's gaze darkened further, if that was possible. He'd made the stupid thing himself, after all. "-seems a pain to let you wander about with-"

He cut off at the outburst from one of the other tavern-goers. A sidelong glance from Xil revealed the Leaf man that had been staring at him earlier. For whatever reason the man looked as bristly as Xilarn felt. His spear moved away from him as the bandit leaned it back to tap against his shoulder. "Doesn't seem like it really concerns you. If I'ze in yer place I'd mind my own- Hyurk!"

Xilarn's foot hooked around the man's ankle, twisting out hard as he rolled to the side to avoid being fallen on top of. With one man down, he bolted into a crouch. He collected his discarded weapon from the ground and gave it a little twirl to fit it more properly into his palm. "Look, buddy," he growled out to the Leaf man that was probably no less a target now than he was himself. "I don't need your help. So lay off."

Around him the other bandits were finding their weapons; blades, beads, whips, gauntlets, all things that excelled in the close-quarters fight that was apparently about to take place.  

[bobaTJ]

At the very least, nobody had openly pulled a weapon on him. Unfortunately it really did seem like it would matter. The grand majority of the patrons were bristling and preparing for some fight, and who knew how many of the band of thieves simply weren't wearing the uniform? Really, a uniform. Wasn't that a bit ostentatious? With numbers like this maybe it didn't matter.

He only watched the bandit calmly. Either he walked out of here bleeding or he didn't walk out at all, it had come to that. Fists were barely a match for blades. The idea of knuckles split to the bone didn't exactly appeal to him either. But in a beat, the bandit was down. Nyiim couldn't help but laugh at his sudden fall and took advantage of the moment to pull a hunting knife from his boot. At least he was armed now, even if it wasn't going to help a whole lot more.

Did this Oban not realize how outnumbered they were? Or did he simply not care. It seemed at the moment that it was a lancer, an archer, and the potentially inebriated man at the back cowering and trying to avoid eye contact. Nyiim sighed.

"No?" he asked, nodding to the group, "I somehow doubt you're going to win this battle." Still, the bandits seemed like they wanted to fight and pilfer more than they wanted to kill and he didn't have much on him. It'd be in everyone's best interest to run, but at the moment he and the Oban were the target of mischief. He didn't have much to steal himself, really. It was a few coins he didn't need to survive, and his bow was safely back at home. Nobody brought a bow to a bar brawl. Walking out bloody seemed the most likely option at the moment.

Fluffesu

 

[Fluffesu]

grasshopper pie

Xil cast a glance out to the Leaf man again. Y'know, the one who was pulling a knife out of his boot like he thought it was necessary for him to get involved. Xil rose from his crouch, spear extended protectively in front of him as he tried to keep a lid on his temper. Hadn't he already said he could handle the situation? He didn't really need anymore people to worry about crashing into in the enclosed space. "Look," he ground out. "I'm trying to do you a favor. The least you can do is accept my invitation, and-"

Apparently, there had been enough talking. The room erupted in movement, both around Xilarn and Nyiim. people threw punches, knives, bottles, chairs. Anything that could be used to hurt someone else was suddenly a weapon, and Xil was quick to learn that the amount of space his spear actually took to maneuver was not conducive to this type of brawl. At some point, he took a punch right between the shoulder-blades that had him lurching forward with a sound akin to choking. When his weapon hit the ground, he didn't pick it up again.

Instead, he found himself blatantly hitting things with his fist, or, occasionally, adopting the more roguish way of bottle-throwing and chair-swinging. When his gaze met Nyiim amongst the ruckus, his scowl returned, and he grumbled, "You're still here?"  

[bobaTJ]

It was amazing how the Oban man was capable of making him question his own moral fiber. Fine, let the guy get his skull cracked open! Why should he care?! Except he still did, just a little, and he really wasn't given a choice when the bar erupted with violence.

There were no cohesive words amidst the chaos, just shouting and crashing and roaring. Outside, he could hear Bosede begin to growl and bark. The raptrix knew there was trouble, but luckily didn't have the faculties to open the door and cause more.

Nyiim was slowly beginning to realize that he was not a knife-brawler. The blade was meant for protection against close-range beast attacks, not a flailing horde of thieves. Perhaps he should have been using it more as he found himself dropping his weapon and degrading to bare-fisted punching. This was working much better, he thought, as he cracked a young man square in the jaw and sent him toppling.

For just a moment he turned and caught the Oban's gaze, or glare as it were. He was not so concerned with what the young man had to say as he was with the mug being raised above his head. There was no time to warn him as a whip lashed out and struck Nyiim in the shoulder. He backed up to avoid another strike, damning his height for making him such an easy target.

Fluffesu

 

[Fluffesu]

grasshopper pie

Xilarn couldn't help but smirk as the Leaf man was forced to back-peddle away from him, due to the threat of another blow from a thief. Really, if he'd only listened, he wouldn't have this problem. Personally, he wasn't having that much trouble handling himself in a brawl, or at least, not as much as he expected. He wasn't exactly a large fellow and he was more interested in picking his shots and staying out of the way of anything that looked like it could seriously wound him.

Not that he was acutely aware of everything that was going on.

The time Xil spent smirking at the only individual trying to help him should've been better spent taking note of his surroundings. It was the crash he heard first- the sound of ceramic shattering dangerously close to his ear. And immediately after, a throb of pain that blacked out his vision and seeped its way down his spine and through his skull. Perhaps later he'd realize and scoff at what had happened, but for the time being, he didn't even know that only a moment later, he hit the floor, tiny clay debris raining down from the shattered mug.

The bandit that wielded it gave a snort, nudging the toe of his boot against Xil's ribs and checking for a reaction. When nothing immediate occurred, he turned dark eyes on the Leaf boyo. "Got a problem with this?" he snorted demandingly.  

[bobaTJ]

Nyiim stopped a moment and looked at the fallen Oban. Well. That was one way to put an end to this situation. He parried a strike meant for his face and ducked aside, watching the offending bandit.

Right. Well, now that nobody was in danger it wasn't really his concern, was it? He raised one hand in a dismissive gesture, the blade still held between thumb and palm, and the other ducked into his pocket and pulled out what he had left. Some might see it as an act of cowardice. He just saw it as a way to leave relatively unharmed.

"Take what you want and go," he replied, resisting the urge to drop the coins on the floor. It was alright, it was just a little change, and people like this didn't get to live very happily for very long before something or other kicked them down. They had chosen this life, it really wasn't any of his business.

Fluffesu

 

[Fluffesu]

grasshopper pie

The bandits took their dues without a second thought. One of them moved forward to snatch the few coins Nyiim had in his hand while another scoured Xilarn's unmoving frame for anything else of value. Another small cluster raided the tavern keep's back counter and store for additional supplies. Within just a few moments, though, they'd gathered whatever they deemed to be of worth and headed out the front door, strolling about as if nothing had happened. Not a care in the world and not a problem to be had.

Not terribly long after their departure, the Fire lad started to rouse himself. It started with a groan and some faint shifting across the floor. Everything still felt heavy and strangely achy, from the fight from before. When his clay-colored orbs cracked open, everything was in a haze. It swam and dipped, little lights and clouds dotting the room. Only once everything had settled did Xilarn slowly nudge himself into a sitting position.

Another moment of dancing fireflies in his vision from the movement, and Xil stretched an arm back behind his head, inquisitively touching the spot that throbbed the most. When he glanced back at his fingers they were moist with a few speckles of red, but it didn't seem like it was anything too worrying. He huffed and leafed his gaze over the tavern again, finally settling clay-colored irises on the Leaf man from before. "They got away..." He grumbled, just to clarify.  

[bobaTJ]

Nyiim's expression remained impassive as the looters did what they did best. Sure, he'd have preferred to beat them into submission and save the barkeep such heavy losses, but no matter how tall you were, five-against-one in close quarters was a losing battle. Outside, Bosede growled and barked aggressively at the group of thieves until Nyiim called him back, and even then he stopped only begrudgingly.

Offering a handful of coins, though, had seemed to placate the bandits. He had been able to produce the rest to offer to the barkeep as a meager donation for failing him. With that being done, he sat down with his mug again and took up a seat beside the fallen body of the Oban. He'd want to make sure the kid wasn't concussed or gravely wounded at the very least, and so nobody touched Xilarn until he roused.

The Leaf man waited for his new acquaintance to speak before addressing him.

"Yes," was all he offered, then taking a sip of his ale. "Welcome back."

Fluffesu

 

[Fluffesu]

grasshopper pie

Xilarn's brows furrowed as he gazed up at the man from his position on the floor. He pulled himself into a sit and glowered at the floorboards as if they had offended him. When they offered no response, he turned back to the Leaf. He opened his mouth, then closed it, as he realized he wasn't entirely sure what words he had that he could share with the individual. Complaints, most likely, and those hardly seemed of relevant use at this point. So instead, he gingerly rubbed at the knot forming on the back of his skull, grumbling muted curses and threats toward the departed bandits under his breath.

The scant remains of the tavern-goers seemed quick to depart afterward. No reason to hang around in a shop that had gone to shambles in minutes. Xil wasn't entirely keen on lingering himself, but the Leaf man did, for whatever reason. Despite his dissatisfaction with the day's events, a thread of curiosity weaved itself within his gut. After rising to his feet, Xilarn pulled a stool from nearby and took up a perch near the questionable Leaf. "You... stayed, huh?" He asked, confused, intrigued, and a bit grumpy still, of course, but otherwise personable enough.

Because really, the guy was still at peace enough to sit and have a drink, all ruckus aside. And that was something that seemed truly impressive to the young Oban. "I'm Xil. Xilarn, that is..."