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Iroia could feel the tension drape Jauhar. Word of an alkidike rebellion had spread and the news had seemed to infiltrate everywhere. And here she was in the activity hub of Jauhar; one of its marketplaces. It was either really good or really bad that she was here, depending on ehether she felt like a fight or not. Honestly she had come for some thread to repair a small tear on her skirt. Perhaps she woud have been better off to let it worsen, she was sure Vosh wouldn’t complain about a bit more of her leg showing, it would be for him after all. But she did have to come out in public again eventually and ripped skirts would be embarrassing in the wrong company. She was leaning over the thread merchants counter when she heard the fight break out behind her. An Oban female and a shifter female, both novices by the sounds of the caterwauling had started up their own little scuffle. Bored, Iroia had just started to turn to take a look when curvy bodies plastered her to the counter. That was it, she was getting involved. She watched long enough to discern that they were indeed prentices who possessed no weapons before she tucked hers to the side in a corner before she dove headfirst into the fray. She held her own for a while but none of the girls cared who they hit and her ighter skin seemed to make her easier to target. Of course this just made her more angry. Biting chewing clawing and kicking they rolled aound the square at times chasing and other times running. By the end the shifter mostly unharmed strode off with her silver head held high, Iroia limped with both legs and the Oban had a swollen eye and puffy face. Iroia and the fireling glared at each other before walking or limping off in different directions. Excellent tussle, miserable circumstances, if it was alkididkies they were to be fighting, why were they scrapping among themselves? Ugh, it made little sense. It probably wasn’t all alkidikes either, she was sure Kaa wasn’t in on it, but how many? Where? What were their strengths? This was the sort of thing they should be finding out. Now she had wounds to clean and bandage...some were bites, she would have to get some plants that would combat any possible infections held in her opponants saliva..charming thought that. Sighing she turned around and went back to the market, far too lazy (and injured) to go traipsing through the bush to find them herself. Once she had bought the herbs she gathered her weapons and marched home and used one of her blades to chop them up until their juices flowed freely. She desperately needed to work on her hand to hand combat if that was what she fought like. They were only prentices and the chance that both were aspiring guards was very small, that meant her defence and attack sucked. On the plus side if they had all had weapons it might have been a different ending. She kissed the blade of one of her swords. Nothing like the taste of iron in the morning, noon or night.
Word Count: 539