MAIN SAGA ENTERPRISE | The Road to Woki-Tal

[Nemopedia]

Sareen Ibn Nadim

Names passed and were exchanged, but Sareen was more invested in their roles, hearing an accountant, then a medic, which had him perch up, interest immediate for the young Karim, shy and most likely still inexperienced given his age, but of use to Sareen, who didn’t miss the way Karim eyed the investment advisor, an elusive man that radiated charisma and more mystery. The medic was followed by a guide, a scout, and… the attention of the quartermaster didn’t escape the man, a note made in mind for the way the redhead had reacted at his title that immediately went to his tattoos. Those who heeded him special attention usually were of the sort that he had to be careful with, even if there was little to hide.

All useful occupations passed by, that if one didn’t wish to be lost, which Sareen never believed himself to be. Fate decided his destination, after all, but the next introduction earned a quirk in his brow, a sign of surprise at the mention of a mercenary. Not that they were unnecessary or unusual for expeditions like these, but for the figures at the head of the table, who didn’t hold an image to sit in brothels and collude with hidden assassins.

“Let’s cut to the chase,” Sareen starts when everyone has done their part, “we are all members of the guild with our own personal ambition, perhaps we can help each other along?” The question was poised to the group, but his eyes slid over to the one who held the knowledge of body and health.

There were no enemies at the table, only possible judgement and Sareen had never been afraid of that.

 

[Kuno]

Bayt Farouq

Pleasant company always eased the strain of undesirable circumstances. Sokkari found her associates to be like the wine she generously helped herself to; they were sweet and refreshing, like the burst of cool air in a simmering space. She poured herself a fourth or maybe a sixth glass of wine, nodding and smiling at Sareen's words. Yes, this is what she had meant by requesting a amicable crew.

"That's the point! Yes, let's all help each other," She urged, turning to everyone's glass after her own. "This journey will help all of us...right, Mobeen?"

His own glass was still full from when she had first filled it. Mobeen stared beyond her, his shoulders tense.

Sailors had a saying for the ocean: you never turned your back on it. The same went for seedy establishments. A storm could brew over the horizon in the blink of the eye. Some sailors had a name for the storms that spawned from beyond the waves. As chance would have it, their storm had a name too, and Mobeen had been keeping a careful eye on it.

"Curse you, Diago!"

It took nothing to start a fight. Amada's associate from before had made his way to the back under Mobeen's careful watch, to the back where the guffawing of unseemly characters had been nonstop. The lull in silence had gotten the cartographer's attention first; then had come the bickering. The voices had risen, glass had clattered, one thing led to another...

Mobeen grabbed Sokkari's arm just as the man named Diago cracked another man across the jaw.

And just like that, the bar erupted into noise.

"Wait! The wine!" Sokkari protested as Mobeen pulled her out of her seat.

In front of them, beer spilled across the floor as the bartender unceremoniously broke a bottle across a particularly annoying patron's head. Towards the back, the violence started by Diago spilled across Bayt Farouq; a serving wench dragged another by her hair, a turbaned man used a cushion to slap his neighbor, and a couple came crashing to the floor in front of their table, the woman gleefully landing punches on the terrified man.

A brawl was upon them, and it threatened to consume them all.

 

[Nemopedia]

Sareen Ibn Nadim

When business and emotions, even one as pleasurable as lust, mixed tempers tend to flare and as the wine flowed so did fists soar through the sky, accompanied with flying plates and other violations of what was once a homage to all pleasure and sensuality. Did he know Diago? Sareen was sure that none of the companions at the table had introduced themselves as such, but there were other patrons in the business, and most at the table had seemed uncomfortable at entering the establishment to begin with. Imagine what a fight was to do for their composure? A first adventure before their voyage together as Sareen smoothly dodged the contents of a cup hurling, followed by the cup itself, into his direction, not forgetting to pick up a flask of wine as he followed Mobeen and Sokkari out of the establishment.

Was the fight a shame? Most certainly. Had Sareen any intention of engaging? Certainly not. He much preferred keeping his hands and clothes clean, and thus a dance started of dodging and twirling amongst the crowd, draped linen that were now torn down and dodging flying substances wet and dry, as Sareen weaved his way to the exit of the brothel. A step back, a leap over the table, and despite his earlier claims Sareen had no intention of helping anyone out of the fight if they couldn’t help themselves first other than fulfilling the single request of bringing the wine.

 

[MiharuAya]

Karim Bahman​

As chaos broke out around the bar, Karim blinked in confusion at the scene in front of him. One moment there had been hearty laughter and the sharing of drinks, and now it had turned into an all-out brawl. The bodies of dangerous-looking men clashed, fists flying through the air as obscenities were yelled back and forth. Karim had never seen such barbarity in his entire life.

While he stared with wide eyes at the scene in front of him, he caught sight of a glass flying toward his face. Karim barely managed to duck in time, the glass shattering behind his head. As more food and drinks were thrown, the Persian gracelessly plunged under the table. Even though it helped avoid being hit, Karim could nearly hear his parent's ashamed voices at his uncouth action.

Karim parted his lips, about to ask the leaders of their little troupe what they should do when he glanced up from the dirty floor and caught sight of them already leaving. Even Sareem was hastily making an exit. With how everything was going, they probably had the right idea. Yet, his body wouldn't budge from his safe spot under the table.

 

[Itari]

The dinner started out uneventful. Zi Rui tried to make conversation with Baobao, but she dodged his attempts by giving him one word answers or ignoring him completely. Eventually he gave up ate ate his meal in an awkward silence. It didn't last long though, as violence erupted throughout the bar. Zi Rui, had never been much of a fighter, but he was used to seeing violence. He calmly piled his plate with some food and slid underneath the table, carrying his plate in one hand a glass of water in the other. To his surprise, someone else had already hidden there. It was the man he had helped at the entrance, the medic if Zi Rui remembered correctly. Zi Rui settled down onto the floor with his food while he wracked his brain to remember the man's name. Karen? Tarim? He couldn't remember and opted to avoid saying it for now. "Don't be afraid. It ends soon. These fights don't last long. Everyone is too drunk."

 

[unanun]

The bottom of the table did little to dull the din. There was not even a table cloth to give an illusion of separation, and the only thing the wood ceiling above the two of them accomplished was cutting everyone roughly in half. What would someone who had lived their entire life in the bottom half see? Disembodied legs stumbled around in pairs. They intertwined, the bodies above shouting, dropping things into view that revealed more of the universe: a cup that landed on its broad base then tipped over to spill a foamy liquid, another leaked a deep red puddle, and something that looked soft, for it was ground into the floor by many heels.

Finally, another face joined them! It was Bao Bao, knocked on her ass by the scuffles above. An incredible amount of outrage flowed through her face, but the pair of legs that had knocked her down was soon accosted by a second, and enough blades were brandished above to send her under the table as well, to the safety of a universe where the motivations of the legs could be ignored. She took just one look at the two of them and immediately began to retreat from this relatively safety.

"Take this back." She slid the box over to Zi Rui. "And tell your brother I don't want it."

When the legs parted for a brief second, she darted into the opening and was gone.

 

[Nemopedia]

Sareen Ibn Nadim

The difference between those used to the chaos of a travelling and exploring life and those more used to the peace of deskwork was stark. The reaction varied to the instinctive diving under the table and escaping all bubbling up, of which the first was most definitely a bad idea, for tables could be lifted and drunk men reached for anything they could as a weapon.

That didn’t mean that Sareen was entirely safe, his slender figure an easy target for rough hands that he had to escape as they tried to swipe for him, hoping to use him as a human weight to throw. They just had to try. A hand twisted, the wrist doubled, fingers popping into the wrong direction. It was all too easy in the frenzy as ankles snapped and sent the aggressors to the ground, unsure of what had happened exactly other than that they had picked up a common injury in a brawl.

And then the sun was upon him again, the warm air brushing against his skin in a cooling manner, for the air within the establishment had been even more stiff. One breath of release and a smile towards Sokkari as he slugged the flask of wine he had brought with him, somehow unspilled, as he barely glanced over the next victor to emerge out of the fight unharmed.

“Want some?” he asks, shaking the flask in hands.

 

[Doctor Jax]

Amada Dy Ortiga
​

And dinner had been going so well.

The Rider of Isfahan, once-sellsword of Castile, former urchin of the streets of Zasterabo, felt at home in the rough confines of Bayt Farouq in a way most of their current enclave perhaps had never experienced. She had sipped wine and picked at chicken tikka and kept an eye on her brother at the back of the bar. At some point, she had neglected to keep reading the air about the room, lost in conversation.
The amount of wine perhaps did not help her keep her faculties. She found herself staring into her cup longer and longer as the night wore on, her mind dwelling, doubly so with a member of her own family—

It was then she realized she had lost track of her older brother, and the sound of someone shouting his name brought him to the forefront as a fist connected with a face. It didn’t take long for the entire bar to erupt into a maelstrom of knuckles, bottles, plates, and weapons. A man knocked into Amada’s back, striking out on instinct, and without another thought, she took the man by the shirt and slammed his face into the table with a look of distaste.

Hastily she stood up, watching Mobeen escort Sokkari out the door away from her beloved wine. With alacrity, she scooped up a bottle and put the cork in it. It would make for a handy cudgel— and they’d paid for it, too. Her compatriots had already begun to make their exits.

A man practically flew towards her, tossed by two other patrons, and she sidestepped to let him slide across the table To the other side, taking food and drink with him. The two brawlers raised drinks to her, and she sighed with long suffering. She couldn’t see Diago…

To hell with him! She wasn’t their mother. Maybe if she had let his ass get beat more often, he wouldn’t be like this.

Out of the corner of her eye, she saw someone flee from under the table, and she bent down to see Karim huddled underneath.

“Here, we should get going. Would not want you to end up trampled,” Amada said, offering a hand to him. “And what better escort than a Rider?”
@MiharuAya

 

[MiharuAya]

Karim Bahman​

@Nemopedia @Itari @Doctor Jax


While Karim remained frozen under the table, his eyes were glued to the brawl taking place mere feet in front of him. Although he knew he should flee, his body felt as heavy as stone and his legs wobbled with such an intensity he was sure he would fall. It was rather embarrassing, but Karim wasn't accustomed to such an environment. Even while in school, he had never been in a scuffle with the other students.

When a voice spoke beside him, the youth glance over to see another person who seemed to have the same idea as himself. While the man was also hiding under the table, they appeared much more at ease, as they continued to eat from their place. "I hope so. This is a rather unfavorable position to be stuck in," He replied, letting out a soft sigh as he also settled into a more comfortable sitting position.

As the fight continued, he watched as more of his party members escaped from the tavern. Even though he would have liked to be as smooth as someone like Sareen, he knew that it was likely that he would be accidentally hit.

A woman suddenly bent down beside him, startling the medic for a moment. Though as he listened to her kind words, he nodded and gently took her hand. The woman has a strong appearance, but it was the kindness in her eyes that made Karim trust her. "Thank you, I would really appreciate your help." He replied, stepping out from under the table.

Even though Karim felt much safer traversing the tavern with the Rider, his eyes were still constantly scanning around the room, looking out for any thrown objects or wild fists coming towards him. "I guess I'll follow you?" He said hesitantly, still unsure if it was very safe to leave his hiding spot.

 

[unanun]

"Excuse me?"

Baobao glared at Sareen. The light sheen of sweat on her forehead was absorbed by the talc, and she combed the heat of her escape through the roots of her hair, tucking back errant strands. She pulled the collar of her shirt forward, the balsa baubles and other lightweight adornments setting off a hollow jangle as she fanned the heat away. She squinted against the sun and backed under the hazy shade of a linen tarp, the light that escaped casting blurry freckles on her face.

"No thanks. I hope you're not going to be drinking while mixing us potions, aye?"

 

[Oxymoron]

Alya Dana
Truth be told Alya had completely checked out of the conversation after their little introduction. They couldn't help it, they were a free spirit stuck in a mortals body. Should Alya have their way they would sit here and strum the rest of their time away imagining new tunes, songs, and poems until they got too tired to carry their own eyes. Alas, this place lacked inspiration. There was only so many melodies Alya could imagine about the local harlots.

But a battle? There might be a number or two in there.

One of their eyes snapped open when the cacophony of a freshly started brawl reached their ears, just in time to catch the wine scented air of an approaching drunkard. He was much bigger than Alya by a long shot and didn't seem to take issue with swinging at whoever happened to be close enough to them. When that person became Alya they'd find their incursion interrupted by a flash of steel, the flat end of their blade placed under the drunkards chin. The man, in his infinite stupor, did not see a threat in this and would bring down a fist over Alya anyway. Though Alya was still sitting they acted quick, tipping their seat over with a kick off the table and willingly falling backwards, rolling onto their feet safely out of the way of the drunkard's fist with the clattering of the equipment under their shawl creating a symphony for their duel. In the same motion Alya stood with they'd swing their heel against the fallen chair, kicking forward with enough force to send the drunkard falling face first when it collided with his shins. That was enough to put him out, the fall too rough for someone already on the edge of consciousness. Alya returned their blade to its compartment with an unsatisfied huff. No, there was no songs to be had with drunkards. Not any that didn't spit in the face of the art anyway.

Alya was forgetting something. Wǔyè brought this to their attention with a tug of their shawl, one of their inky heads pointing under the table besides where the drunkard had landed. With a foot they rolled the man away so that they could squat down under the table and join a few of their soon to be compatriots. Ah, Alya knew these. The nervous, the young, and the thin.

"Come now." Alya whispered to them. "Quit your slouching. You're safe while I'm here. I'll keep their eyes on me. It's what I'm being paid for, after all." Though their words were standard the tone in which they were said suggested a hint of enjoyment. All eyes on Alya, just how they liked it.

 

[Itari]

Zi Rui had no idea what to do with the box. It was heavy and a nuisance and he hadn't been expecting to be forced to carry it after pawning it off to BaoBao. For now, he used it as mini table for his food. He declined the offer from the first person who came to retrieve the small party from under the table; he hadn't finished eating yet, after all. When Alya appeared though, Zi Rui stuffed the last of his bread in his mouth and followed the bard out of the restaurant, the box forgotten in its place under the table. He realized his mistake once they were outside. It was too late to go back now though. He made mental note to write a letter to his brother informing him of the rejection. The poor bastard had saved for months to afford the jeweled thing. Now some from the bar brawl was sure to find it and sell it for less than it was worth.

Once they'd made it outside, Zi Rui took a swig from the water skin he kept with him, and offered it to Alya, "Thank you. Sorry, I don't remember your name. I am Zi Rui. I'm guide for this expedition."

@Oxymoron

 

[FrostedCaramel]

Elea​

She had wondered exactly who Diago was, exactly what he had done to earn such ire, and such notoriety as to be the catalyst for the brawl that had broken out just a moment after he had his name damned. Yet in the newest predicament in Elea's life, who Diago was, and what he had done held little significance over her need to remove herself from the Bayt Farouq.

Standing from her chair, not quite as quickly as most of the party had, Elea found herself witness to a mountain of a man brought low by the tiny delicate seeming thing she had brought to the table not long before. Alya Dana, the not-so-delicate mercenary, seemed more than worth her weight in salt to the quartermaster. Elea smiled, arrested her flight from the Bayt Farouq and turned on her heels to sweep in behind the cloaked woman as she dragged someone from under the table and made a quick flight for the exit. She stopped over the drunkard, still breathing but down for the count, and knelt down as her hands began dancing over him. She pocketed a bracelet of questionable value, a chain from about the man's neck, and his half empty coin purse. She smiled, content to make her exit as she noticed a strange box just under the table.

She knew the box from earlier, the guide, Zi Rui, had given it to the immensely lithe Baobao while they ate. Had he been attempting to court her? What was the relation there? She didn't know for sure, but she did know that it would be a shame for her to leave whatever he had painstakingly gifted to the woman. Surely she would be distraught at the loss of a gift to some stranger in a brothel.

Elea quickly took stock of the mayhem outside the table, decided she had the time to spare and moved over the drunkard toward the box. Her knee fell disconcertingly far into the man's gut as she crawled over him eliciting a grunt and a wince of pain on his unconscious features. She gave him an apologetic smile as her hands reached out and opened the box. She felt her breath catch a moment as she took in the fine jewelry within, a necklace of considerable craftsmanship, inlayed with a single scarlet ruby and hewn in gold. Had this really been left?

She secreted the necklace away inside her shirt and scurried from beneath the table. Her hands grasped for purchase up the legs of a chair as the melee continued around her and she brought herself to her feet. She side stepped a trio of men going at each other with broken bottles, ducked a platter of finely cut meats as it soared across the room, stopped for a brief second to watch a quintuple of noblemen wailing on each other with fine padded cushions, and found herself splayed across the sticky floor as an unseen fist barreled into her cheek.

Elea, dazed for a moment, began to scramble away as the taste of blood filled her mouth. She hauled herself up, grasping at a brawling strangers' pant legs and hurried for the exit, no longer curious with watching the oddities of the brawl taking place around her.

She half ran, half stumbled from the Bayt Farouq, spitting a considerable amount of blood to the dusty path outside as she did. She stopped across the road, leaning against a wall as she breathed heavily and regained her composure. She patted at her chest, breathed a sigh of relief as she felt the cool metal of Baobao's forgotten gift beneath her shirt and spat the stinging copper from her mouth once more to the dirt at her feet.

 

[Doctor Jax]

Amada Dy Ortiga
​

While she would hardly call herself a woman of much virtue, the Ruders had instilled in her a deep sense of responsibility for her fellows, and Karim was no exception. Tentatively, he reached out a hand, and she grasped his firmly, seeing others likewise vacate the space beneath the table in their own, respective mad dashes. Amada ducked every now and again, seeing flying bottles and earthenware take to the air. Another of their band was abruptly laid low to the ground by an errant fist— the quartermaster — but before she could do much, the girl handled it herself, lurching for the world outside Bayt Farouq.

“With me, now, eyes ahead. We won’t run, but we will walk with purpose,” Amada coached patiently, given the circumstances. She started them for the door at a brisk, solid walk.“Run, and you may not have time to stop if something—“

She yanked Karim out of the way of two men pulling each other’s hair with a woman attached to one’s back with a snacking fork, crashing into a table.

“—ends up in your way,” Amada stated, gesturing.

Amada dragged the poor boy through the gauntlet of bodies, using her souvenir bottle of wine as a cudgel to clear a path where fighting was simply too thick. It did not take long, truly, to leave the bar, but it surely must have felt like hours as they weaved through the bodies. At last, sunlight greeted them, and Amada gave a long sigh. She smiled to Karim with perhaps too much glee at the experience, and she gave a small bow.

“It appears our quartermaster requires your services,” she helpfully stated, gesturing to Elea. With that, she walked to Sokkari and offered her the wine as she stood staring at the cacophonous bar.

“We should do this more often,” Amada joked.
@Kuno @MiharuAya

 

[Mglo]

Ral Darya
had paid little attention to his companions who, placed in the backdrop of such a human bestiary, were least attention grabbing by comparison - they'd have time to get his attention later anyway, he thought - and so it was that at the first sign of a fight he had moved to place his back to the nearest wall of the establishment. One could say it was self defense training kicking in, but it was mostly Ral Darya's natural aversion to being touched by the savagery.

Alas! His highest vanity was also his sinking luck. He was a visible target, even to those looking to hurt rather than fuck. It forced him to manhandle another into becoming a shield to hide behind, half-dragging him to keep him off balance while moving to exit. Ral Darya had to let go when the man started swinging blindly, but they'd gone far enough that Ral Darya didn't think he'd need another. He was nearly out when a bottle crashed by the door, spilling wine all over his outfit, and the misfortune only got worse as he was forced to touch someone's sweaty face as he shoved it aside to take those last few steps into the sun.

"I've been mobbed before, and I never thought it could be so unpleasant," he said to the outside, forgetting for the moment he was no longer Eskanral Saadatmand, the hand that had touched sweat still outstretched in front of him. He took what the man had offered the girl and she had refused, then poured some of it on the now cleansed hand. "Thank you."