Giving it Your Brawl [Closed]

[Ferren Bairston]

(( Drakonis 9:28 - Denerim Market, Late Afternoon - Ceridwyn Calder ))

This time--just this one time--Ferren wasn’t going to fuck things up.

It’d been a while since he’d been pulled to do something important like this. Mostly he was supposed to be carrying packages across the city and not asking any questions about what was inside. But anybody could carry packages, and him doing it took up a lot of time because, well. He liked to talk to people.

Hazard of the job, maybe. He’d tried to stop, but he wasn’t all that good at just silently scowling at people. So he talked, and packages ran late, and his dad thought he was useless for probably the hundredth time that month.

But this? This he could do.

He’d been sent to the far corner of the market by the docks to shake down somebody who apparently owed Jerod something or other. What, Ferren didn’t know, and he’d learned not to ask. It was better that way. All he knew was that somebody hadn’t held up their end of the bargain, and he had the power to do something about it.

Ferren wasn’t armed for this encounter, but for a knife he kept tucked in his belt, but he didn’t need to be. He had the best weapons the Maker could ever give him--his fists. And while he wasn’t maybe the strongest or most imposing person out there, he’d won plenty of brawls. That had to count for something.

For once, his dad was finally making use of his limited strengths. Ferren wasn’t good at sneaking around. He was even worse at lying. But he could punch and grapple and fight dirty with the best of them--at least in his humble opinion.

So he headed to a building whose sign just called it a “General Store.” The interior was in a sad state, the shelves looking like they’d been ransacked a few dozen times, paint peeling off of the walls. There weren’t any patrons out front--hell, nobody was out front, and Ferren knew why. The real business was in back.

It was the way his dad handled things. Put just enough legitimacy up front that the Guard wouldn’t bother inspecting anything beyond it. He knew just where to head, too, and made for a rickety door that was barely hanging on to its hinges.

Gavin was there, and in the middle of talking to an elven woman. Lover, associate, or something a lot worse, he wasn’t sure. It didn’t much matter, anyway. Ferren had really hoped he wouldn’t have to do this in front of anybody, but sometimes things didn’t go to plan.

“Well, at least Jerod’s finally decided to be punctual,” the man spat. “Funny that never mattered to him before.”

There was a story there, but Ferren wasn’t supposed to be listening to stories. He was supposed to be getting what was owed--one way or the other.

“Look, whatever problem y’have with him’s your business, not mine. All I’m interested in is what y’ owe. Hand it over, I’ll let him know you were feeling cooperative, and maybe he’ll give y’ another chance.”

Gavin just laughed and shook his head, his gaze turning to the woman. “No, I don’t think so. See, I already spent that money on something else. And if she wants to see any more of it, she’ll prove she’s worth the ridiculous price.”

 

[Ceridwyn Calder]

This was likely going to be the most lucrative job she had been able to pick up yet.

Her employer wasn’t too bright, really, and he was kind of a jerk, but he hadn’t called her knife ears, which was always a damn plus. And she had been able to negotiate her price with him when she beat the hell out of one of his lackey’s in a tavern who tried to get a little too fresh with her.

Apparently, she was replacing said lackey for the guard duty she was on tonight. It was her first real enforcer job, but she’d done pretty well as a bouncer before, so she figured it wouldn’t be much different. Though she had a feeling that whoever she was supposed to be defending poor Gavin against would underestimate her.

Everyone always seemed to.

Gavin was droning on about how it could be tonight, or tomorrow, when whoever was after him showed up. Something about a debt he wasn’t going to pay, or something. She really didn’t give a shit. As long as he gave her the rest of the coin he owed her once this was all done, he could go off and do whatever he liked with the rest of his life.

The coin could help get Gran’s house fixed up. One of the walls was beginning to sag with wood rot and she didn’t want to wake up to find her buried under debris.

Someone came into the store, and she turned her blue eyes in their direction. Gavin seemed to know -- or at least guess -- their purpose.

“Well, at least Jerod’s finally decided to be punctual,” he said with venom in his voice. Oddly, the name Jerod sounded familiar, but shee couldn’t place it. “Funny that never mattered to him before.”

“Look, whatever problem y’have with him’s your business, not mine. All I’m interested in is what y’ owe. Hand it over, I’ll let him know you were feeling cooperative, and maybe he’ll give y’ another chance.” At least their guest wasn’t rude enough to start swinging right away.

She stretched her fingers, knuckles audibly cracking as she brought them into a fist. Gavin was looking at her, making a show of it, “No, I don’t think so. See, I already spent that money on something else. And if she wants to see any more of it, she’ll prove she’s worth the ridiculous price.”

“You’re the one who agreed to it,” she said with a smirk, and turned to face her would be adversary.

Now, Ceridwyn wasn’t a large woman, but she was definitely thicker than a normal elf. The muscles of her exposed arms well-defined, chest broader than her contemporaries. She moved to interpose herself between Gavin and the man here to shake him down. She’d seen other enforcers cross her arms, but to her than just put them at a disadvantage.

Her fists were balled at her sides, her back straight, legs ready to move if he lunged. She lifted her chin to look up at the man, grinning “See, this is where you turn around so you don’t get hurt. I’d hate to mar that pretty face of yours.”

It was something she’d heard plenty of times from men who tried to get her to back down from a fight. They ended up with the broken noses and black eyes. She’d had her fair share of both, but she didn’t intend to get either tonight.

 

[Ferren Bairston]

So Gavin had decided to come prepared. Fair enough, though it wasn’t doing much to help Ferren’s sympathy for the man. If he could afford some muscle--small as that muscle was--then he could afford to pay back his damn debts.

“You’re the one who agreed to it,” the woman said, and the corner of her mouth tugged upward.

There was something familiar about the way she spoke. It was what Ferren himself had grown up with, aside from his dad’s influence. Why he found it surprising that an elf would speak like she’d spent plenty of time in the back alleys of Denerim, he didn’t know. It wasn’t like there weren’t elves who had to grow up and learn to defend themselves from whatever toughs decided they’d be an easy mark.

In fact, Ferren had heard stories about just how bad it was for elves. But aside from one of his dad’s contacts, stories were mostly all they’d been. He didn’t spend much time around the alienage, and he hadn’t crossed paths with too many elves outside those walls.

So when she turned to face him, he was surprised to find he was, well. Surprised. She was a lot shorter than him, which was a feat in and of itself. And he’d seen there was definition in her arms. He’d expected her to be lean, though. More like the few elves he’d seen in the past.

She wasn’t that, though, and she also didn’t seem all that afraid of staring him down, which he was fine with. As much as he’d come here to intimidate somebody, he wasn’t sure what he’d do if he actually inspired fear.

“See, this is where you turn around so you don’t get hurt. I’d hate to mar that pretty face of yours.”

Her hands were balled at her sides, her body held straight as she looked up at him with what Ferren would describe as a lot of “go ahead and fucking try it, I dare you.” If the situation was different, he might’ve just walked away. Hired muscle was never fun to deal with. But he’d managed to make a mess of every other task he’d been given, and he wasn’t leaving here until he collected what was owed.

Besides, she was still pretty small compared to him. How hard could it be to pin her and force Gavin to hand over the coin?

“Much as I appreciate the compliment, I can’t be doing that. Fair’s fair, though, and I’ll give y’the same chance. Not like this sorry sack o’ shit’s worth the trouble.”

Gavin made an annoyed sound in the back of his throat, but Ferren’s focus was only partly on him. It was pretty clear this woman wasn’t planning on standing down, so he’d just have to do what needed to be done.

With that settled he shrugged, bent his knees, then lunged for the woman with what he thought was a solid plan to knock her to the ground and pin her arms. It’d worked in the past. No reason it shouldn’t work now. Granted, that wasn’t against people who were three or four ales drunker than him, but Ferren was still optimistic.

 

[Ceridwyn Calder]

She already knew before he spoke that this wasn’t going to end peacefully, and that was alright with her. She liked a good scrap, but she could tell by his size that she’d have to be careful or she’d come out of this with more than just a few bruises.

Course, she hadn’t gotten this job because she just stood around in a fight after all. Her lips wer already curving in a broader smile when he started to speak, “Much as I appreciate the compliment, I can’t be doing that. Fair’s fair, though, and I’ll give y’the same chance. Not like this sorry sack o’ shit’s worth the trouble.”

“Sorry, no thanks. Already got plans for the coin he’s payin’ me. I’m sure you understand,” she made a soft click with her tongue on the back of her teeth, and ignore her employers irritation behind her.

His knees bent, and she knew he was coming. Faster than she’d expect for someone of his size, so she misjudged her own movements. He clipped her, but it wasn’t enough to take her down. Just enough to knock her off her balance temporarily. She jumped back just a little once she regained her footing, and her fists were raised in front of her now.

“This a fight or what, friend? You ‘fraid to hit a girl?” She punctuated her words with a flurry of blows, mostly body shots to put him off balance and get him moving back towards the door. She didn’t like grappling, especially with humans, always had a weight advantage.

She backed off briefly, grinning all the while. She was able to dodge a blow from him, ducking under it and coming up to swing a hard punch at his gut. She stepped out of his reach again, bouncing on the balls of her feet waiting for his next move.

“Not too late to call it a night,” she said with a little laugh.

 

[Ferren Bairston]

“Sorry, no thanks,” she answered. “Already got plans for the coin he’s payin’ me. I’m sure you understand.”

“Fair enough.” It was the last thing he said before leisurely rolling his shoulders--and then lunging at the woman.

For a good while she just stood there, and Ferren thought he was going to get through this with less effort than he’d planned on giving. She moved at the last minute though, a lot faster than him. His shoulder clipped her, but Ferren had to use the wall to stop his momentum.

He turned quickly, well aware he could be facing a knife in his back if he didn’t. No son of Jerod Bairston was going to be completely oblivious to the fact that people didn’t fight fair. But the woman was standing a respectable distance away, her fists raised in front of her. Either she didn’t have a weapon, or she didn’t think she needed to use it yet. Both a good sign for him.

“This a fight or what, friend? You ‘fraid to hit a girl?”

Before he could answer that, she darted forward, her fists connecting with his unarmored torso. It was a little irresponsible to go into all this without wearing anything beyond his normal clothing, but Ferren hadn’t taken Gavin for a man who prepared--or really used his brain much at all.

Even without the armor, he was able to withstand the hits, though there was a firmness to the flurry he hadn’t expected. He struck back at her with a punch heavy enough it would have either knocked her out or broken her nose, depending on where it landed, but she ducked easily, throwing all of her momentum behind a single hit that knocked the wind out of him.

Ferren staggered, one arm over his stomach while the other was braced in front of him in an attempt to protect from a followup. But the woman waited, a smirk on her lips and a delight in her eyes he’d only just started to recognize in himself. There was something exciting about being in these situations; the burning of muscles and the pumping of blood.

“Not too late to call it a night,” she offered again.

“If that’s all y’ve got in you, sure. Step aside and maybe y’can buy me a drink after this,” he answered with a smirk of his own.

There wouldn’t be any drinks tonight, and if Ferren didn’t find a way to deal with how quick she was, the next time he did drink it would be with a few missing teeth, probably. Knowing he wasn’t going to be able to pin her until she was stunned, he followed up his words with a feigned punch to her side, following it with a right hook that connected with her jaw. Not as hard a punch as the one he’d sent her way before, but hard enough that he thought he could press the advantage.

Using his shoulder like a battering ram, he surged forward and tried to knock her down, but she was too quick for that. A flurry of blows landed on his back with a few well-placed kidney punches for good measure. Ferren whirled to face her again, his arms crossed over his chest to deflect the remaining hits that were meant for his back.

He was bruised and battered already, but the blood was pumping and his muscles were burning and all he could do was grin. “Alright, you’re quicker than me. Y’proved your point. Not all about speed, though.”

The next time she went on the offensive, he was ready--mostly. He blocked two out of every three strikes, either with his open palm of his forearm, which fucking hurt. When he saw an opening, he was a little over-eager to go for it. Instead of blocking, his hand closed over her forearm and he used her own momentum to throw her back against the nearest wall.