Blow Me Away [Ilta]

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This world, Nai decided, was a strange place. As he understood it, he had been 'fated' here by Fate, the god of chance. Why or how, he still wasn't clear on. Maybe with time, it would sink in. As it were, he had been directed to the Gallows Inn for a place to stay for the night and something to eat. Sleep sounded good. Food... He was still sick for half drowning. He'd have to try, at any rate. The moment he walked in, he felt comfortable. Ah, yes. The warm light, familiar smells and the atmosphere soothed him. The language was different from his native tongue, something similar to the common tongue in his own world. The accent was queerly different, though.

Bee-lining for a free bench, Nai eyed the other people. It wasn't as full as he had expected it to have been and he honestly didn't blame anyone for it. There were all manner of strange creatures here, most of them severely shorter than he. Did this world suffer from dwarfism, he wondered. As it was, he had to stoop to fit through the door without clapping himself in the head with the doorway. As he made it to the bench, Nai leaned his boar spear against the nearby wall and sat, gesturing at a serving girl for attention. Why did it always have to be women, though? Incompetent, soft creatures they were.

"I was directed here for a place to sleep and food," he explained, barely hiding his distaste at having to speak to a female. "Bring me ale and food. Nothing reptilian or with milk in it," he continued, short and sharp with his words. The girl gave him a funny look before nodding, shuffling away to go about her work. Stupid, soft creature. All child-bearing hips and no brain. The tall man leaned back, surveying the room again. He needed work, but at that particular moment, he was more interested in finding someone to warm his bed for the night.

It took only moments for Nai to lock eyes with a small man with the most interesting eyes he had ever seen. The irises were green and his pupils reminded Nai of a lamb's eye. It was utterly fascinating to look at. Placing his hands on the small table in front of him, Nai decided that this man was going to receive his attentions for the night. Or, if not him, than the big green guy with pig's teeth next to him.

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Ilta was beginning to become a regular at the Gallow’s Inn. Hell, one of the girls remembered what she normally ordered for dinner at this point. Maybe she should actually vary up locations or cook for herself or at least order something else. Sitting down with a plate of food, she looks around the crowd as she eats dinner.

She catches sight of a pair of horns. Well, it had been awhile before she saw another dragonion, but they weren’t exactly common in these parts. At least, she thought it was a dragonion, but the presence of a tail and spots as well as the lack of scales through her off. She never saw a spotted dragon before or any clan that sported tails. He stood a good half a foot taller than her, making him decently taller than most of any kray ancestry. Without the scales, most end up looking like elves. Her clan was just taller than most.

She frowns as he is rude to the serving woman. Shit, she liked that one. Her name was Loreena. She was always nice to her. Always gave her extra bread. And she was easy on the eyes. With a longsword on her hip, Ilta walks over and stands by his table. “You should try being nicer to the serving girls.” Looking him over, she asks, “What clan are you from?” Not that she was terribly familiar with most, but if he had one, it would confirm that he was either kray or dragonion.

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Nai was enjoying his ogling when he noticed a figure with horns. Oh? Was he not the only Zarkhiri here, then? It took all of half a second for it to register than this person was of the female persuasion, which made him frown. She had no piebaldism and was freakishly short. Another trickery of this world, perhaps? His mood turned sour at the thought.

As she rose and started towards him, Nai cursed under his breath. Just what he needed, another woman to ruin his evening. And she was armed. His hands instinctively went to the back of his head, fingers interlacing as a giant ‘I’m better than all of you’ posture. “And you should mind your own business, Khaa’am*,” he said, giving her a once over with his eyes.

At the mention of a clan, he tilted his head slightly to the side, giving the woman a strange look. “I am from no clan,” he said, dropping his arms to peer around her legs to see if she had a tail. As far as he could tell, she didn’t. “I am thinking we are not of the same people, you and I.” He sat back again, resting his hands on the table in front of him.

“Now, if you do not mind, go away,” Nai commanded, making dismissive motions with one hand. “You are blocking my view of the small man with sheep’s eyes.”

[*Khaa’am is a slur against masculine women. It’s similar to calling her a coward or that she is without honour.]

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Ilta wasn’t great at making friends. She was even worse at it when the other person was a complete prick. The foreign word remains a mystery to her, but he still manages to get the point across. She gives him an unimpressed look. “If you wanted to call me an asshole, you could have said it outright. I’m at least going to call you a prick to your face.” She could have said it in her own language, but she wanted the other person to understand her. If you’re going to insult someone, you do it right.

Ilta doesn’t really hide her frown when he claims to be clanless either. No wonder this guy had such poor manners. He had nothing to represent. “I’m guessing not that we aren’t, Clanless.” While both might very will be descended from dragons, apparently, there was a whole breed of backwards dragonkin.

She might have gotten out of his face if he didn’t give her the dismissive gesture. No, now she needed to stay. She looks over to the man with sheep’s eyes. “He doesn’t look that interested in you.” Indeed, the man did seem to be trying to avoid Clanless’ gaze.

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Nai snorted at the woman’s chastising. “No, not asshole. I like those too much to associate you with one. It does not have a word in this tongue,” he grumbled, annoyed that she still hadn’t left him alone. He glared up at her, tail swaying from side to side behind him. This was exactly why he didn’t like women. They seemed to think it was their place to correct him.

“You call me ‘Clanless’ like it’s an insult,” he snorted, trying to peer around her to look at his prey. He was so close to just brushing her aside with a hand. “It also doesn’t matter if he’s interested or not. He will be.” His voice was confident that he could sway the man into accepting whatever proposition he had planned.

When she still hadn’t left him alone, Nai stood up. “What do you want, Khaa’am? We have established that we are not the same people, I am Clanless and you make a poor view. What more could you seek to gain from rubbing me the wrong way, hm?” He peered down at her, crossing his arms over his chest, legs out at shoulder width.

“Is it a fuck you want? You are crowing up the wrong mountain, if so.” The hair at the back of his head began to stand on end. “Or a fight, maybe?” Nai leaned down, bringing his face to within a few inches of Ilta’s. “A little girl-child, wanting to play at being a soldier with the men. I am surprised that you are not with child yet, girl. That’s all you are good for.”

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Ilta leans against the table, making it clear she had no intention of leaving. She knew that she was getting to him. “I suppose considering your temperament, it only makes sense if you surround yourself with them,” she says. She returns the glare with a calm look. At this point, she was only mildly annoyed with him. The grip on her temper was too tight for her to get upset over a crappy comeback.

“Clanless is, in fact, an insult.” All dragonions and kray had clans. It became part of the identities. Not having one, it was a bit like missing a piece of one’s self. She looks back at the man across from them. “Really? Because I don’t think he wants anything to do with you. In fact, I think that probably stands for most people in this tavern.”

She smiles and laughs a little at him as he stands up. He thought he was intimidating? She lets him finish what he has to say. She doesn’t flinch as he invades her personal space. However, with each syllable, she grows more bored. Did she have to be the one to throw first swing? Her right hand goes flying towards his face. “You spend way too much time talking...”

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He didn’t have enough time to pull his head back as the fist came at him. Instead, he stood his ground and allowed her to hit him. He had to admit (if only to himself) that she could, at least, throw a decent punch. His head snapped to the side, his torso twisting around with it. So that's how she wanted to play it, huh? Nai could play that game too. Without so much as a warning, he turned and spat a glob of bloodied saliva square at her face.

“Why don’t you go and crawl back up your mother’s cunt?” he growled, jumping away form the table he had been sitting at to kick at the smaller woman with a bare foot. “You stupid piece of aborted foetus!” He lowered his head and threw himself forward, arms spread wide for a tackle, hoping to catch her with his twisting horns. Stupid bitch wanted to get into a fight with a real man, so be it. Honestly, he wasn’t in the mood to fight so if this would quickly, he’d be all the happier about it.

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Ilta knows that he let her hit him that time, but it doesn’t stop him from being gratifying. And she’s almost impressed that he could take a swing like that to the face. She did spend most of her time before arriving to Nova as a blacksmith. Hitting things hard was kind of one of her strong suits. However, she straightens up as he spits in her face. Damn, that was disgusting. Wiping it off, she gives him an annoyed look.

She is forced back by the kick. So kicking and knees weren’t off limits then? Good to know. She has fully stopped paying attention to what he has to sat in order to study his form and posture. Head first going in for a tackle. While a very reptilian part of her wants to meet him in the head butt, she decides that probably isn’t the best thing to do. Instead, she sprawls her legs back and grabs hold of his horns before trying to knee him to the face.

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As soon as his horns came into contact with Ilta, Nai’s arms snapped forward, latching onto her shoulders. The knee came up and smashed painfully into his nose, which broke on impact. Blood spurted from his face, but that was fine. He’d get the bitch back, no doubt about it. “Stupid whore,” he muttered, jerking his head back in an effort to pull her off balance.

Using his grip on her shoulders, Nai tried to pull her to one side, maneuvering his leg in an attempt to trip her over. No way was he losing to this tits-on-legs. The angle at which he was bent was awkward on his back, straining the muscles attached to the back of his pelvis. One hand dropped away from her shoulder to aim a punch at her ribs, angled to push the spare rib up towards her lung.

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His hands were on her shoulders, but Ilta got another good hit in. While she wasn’t in the best position, he was in a worse one with his face by her knee. With the blood, she is a little thankful that her opponent wasn’t actually a dragonion or kray. He’d be out for hers at this point if he was. She’d only seen a blood rage once before. Now, that would have been a hell of a fight, and she might have actually backed down from goading him.

He certainly had himself in an awkward position as he tried to trip him over. She yanks him forward into a clinch, making any punches relatively ineffective, before kneeing him again.

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The second blow with her knee caught him in the chest, winding him for a moment. He sprayed blood in a huff at the floor, painting it with little red dots. It was mildly embarrassing that she had made him bleed this much and the worst he had done to her wasn't very much at all. He blamed it on nearly drowning not hours before. Of course he wasn't going to be in his best form after something like that. Her knees were the worst thing, at this point in time, and he was going to take them out of the equation.

Pulling his legs directly under himself, Nai aimed a blow for outside of her knee joint to distract her. He then latched onto her thighs, pulling her in close to his shoulder. He would have liked to have seen her knee him against with a damaged knee ligament. Leaning back, he heaved, shoving hard downwards with his legs in an attempt to pick her up. Being tall had its own perks. He was going to toss this bitch like a ragdoll.

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Ilta winces in pain to the blow to her knee. Cheap, dirty shot. Fucking asshole! That was going to hurt for a bit, but she’s been through worse. She bears with it, but damn if she wasn’t going to make this guy hurt now. He wanted to fight this way? The smell of blood is starting to mess with her head now. It agitates her further, and she can smell it so much more acutely now. Her eyes constrict, becoming more serpentine for a few moments. She reminds herself to keep a level head.

Being picked up as an adult is relatively new experience in Ilta. At 6 feet tall, most people weren’t large enough nor had the strength. As soon as he lifts her, her flesh turns to stone. She keeps her hands on his horns and lifts up his face, and attempts to headbutt in the face.

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Nai’s arms tightened around her legs, trying to prevent her from swinging them around and catching a lucky shot. She was heavy, for a woman, but that just meant she’d fall all the harder. He was momentarily shocked as her skin hardened, wondering what filthy magic she was casting at him. “Oh no you don’t!” he exclaimed, charging for one of the nearby walls, intending to bash her against it.

Mid-sprint, Ilta’s head smashed into his face, dazing Nai. His legs went out from under him, sending him tumbling, Ilta and all, into an unfortunately placed table just a little to the left of Nai’s original trajectory. More blood splattered from Nai’s face as his lip split from colliding with one of the table’s edges.

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Ilta hits the table. Hard. Damn if she wasn’t thankful that she turned her skin into rock earlier. It hurts, but nearly as much as it could. The table cracks underneath the both of them. Shit, she didn’t want to pay for that. However, the sound of snapping furniture does bring her mind back to normal. Her eyes dilate to something more human.

She manages to get up even with her knee in an immense amount of pain. She takes a step back and looks down at her opponent to see if he actually gets back up or not.

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Nai groaned in pain, trying to lift himself up from the mess they had created. A fair amount of his blood painted the ground beneath his face and the splinters from the table littered the floor like a giant child had gone batshit on its toys. Smack bang in the middle of it all was the piebald dragon man. “Fuck you,” he breathed, rolling over onto his back to glare up at Ilta.

“You win this round, cow. But don’t think I won’t kick your ass next time.” He slowly, very painfully, got to his feet, favouring his right leg. “Now fuck off and leave me alone. You’ve had your fun.” Asides from his body, the only thing that hurt was his dented pride. He decided that he truly hated Ilta at that point as his limped back over to his own table. At some point during the fight, the serving girl had placed his food and drink there. Nai wasn’t sure if he could eat it anymore, but like hell if he wasn’t going to try.

As he sat heavily on his bench, the Zarkhiri man reached into his coin purse and pulled out two silver coins of foreign make. One, he slid in the direction of Ilta. The other he kept near the wooden plate with his food on it for the serving girl who Ilta seemed to think he offended. “Here, a token, if you will. I’m not sure how much it is worth in this place, but it is customary for brawlers in my world to give up silver to the winner, woman or not.” He was loath to admit it out loud and thus, his voice was low.