RP:Bearing a Burden

This is a Rogue's Guild RP.

Location: The Jolly Roger, Port Rynvale

Summary: Nortengaal and Leo have a brief heart-to-heart, rather than a fist-to-fist.

The Jolly Roger

The sound of fist striking canvas is the first one might hear as they entered the Jolly Roger, a rapid tattoo of punches being delivered being the reason. Nortengaal is at it again, though now more so out of a slowly developing routine than a real need to vent. There is a break in the action as he stops his flurry and rests with a hand against the bag, breathing heavily. After a moment he reaches over to grab a bottle of clear liquid - water, surprisingly enough - and takes a long drink.

Leoxander kept the warehouse doors unchained and unlocked these days, iron links draped to either side of the building that didn’t necessarily look like a tavern from the outside. That’s because it wasn’t - it was a lounge/hangout to suit the pirate’s preferences, a space in the corner cleared for the gaming table he sought to order. Opening one of two doors etched with that warning, he immediately set his gaze toward the therianthrope, his stealthy entrance probably only noticed when Nort’ paused for water. “Looks like somethin’ pissed you off, mate.” Leo spoke his way on the way to the bar, intending to pour himself a drink stronger than water. And hell, he got Nortengaal a tumbler, too. Nothing like whiskey to fuel the fighting spirit.

Nortengaal actually jumps a little at Leo’s words, coughing a bit as some water goes down the wrong pipe. It seems the bearman was in his own little world at the moment. After a second he recovers, and shakes head a bit at first before it turns into a nod. “Not really - well, not today - well, ok yeah a bit.” He says, adding a bit of a shrug. “Still feeling a bit upset at losing my match i suppose. Not sure why it’s sticking with me so much though, i dont usually hold onto a loss like this.”

Leoxander nodded along as he poured himself a drink. “Trus’ me, I been there.” He was fortunate Nort’ hadn’t witnessed his drunken state complaining about fighting a child on his Blood Bowl debut. “You win some, you lose some. An’ you weren’t exactly fightin’ a green, man. That blood knight’s had his share of shows in the arena. I still got scars from my turn with him a couple winters ago.” He lifted his glass but gave the bearman an opportunity to take a break and join him, if he wanted to do so. “What d’ya think it is that bothers the most ‘bout it?” He wasn’t much of a bartender to listen to woes, but Nortengaal had become more than just another random face.

Nortengaal puts down the water bottle and walks over to the bar, taking up the tumbler that Leo had gotten out for him and pouring himself a decent sized glass. Lifting it up he tilts it towards Leo with a nod of thanks and takes a drink. Wiping his mouth the back of his hand he leans against the bar, considering the question. “I think…i feel like i didnt showcase myself enough. I…wanted to prove i was the right choice to make as someone to join your circle.” He looks down into the glass, swirling the liquid around a bit. “Which i realize is silly, all things considered, but still.”

Leo was a pretty decent listener, all his seven sins accounted for, and even if he didn’t want to admit it he was becoming reacclimated to the idea of friends and company. “If you weren’t the right choice, Nort’, I wouldn’t have wasted my time on you. Neither would Mahri, for that matter. Some people put on a front, an’ in our squad we get a lot with that skill, but yer a good asset.” Not many compliments came from the rogue, and that might have been one of his best. “There’ll be plenty of opportunities to find yer rhythm. I was even thinkin’ about bringin’ the ‘bouts back around in’ some down low business. We used to have a place like that ‘round here years back, under the Tumbler.” The building next door was in ruins by then, wood falling apart and dust and webs on the weather cracked windows.

Nortengaal might not have known the rogue very long, but he can tell how meaningful it is for Leo to have said what he said. He smiles and takes another drink from his glass. “Thanks Leo, I really appreciate that.” An eyebrow is raised at the mention of fights. “Oh yeah? I think that’s a great idea. Always money to be made in fightin.”

Leoxander swirled what was left in the bottom of his glass a brief moment before he finished it off and set the cut glass down with a soft ‘clack’ of sound, blue eyes lifting to crimson red. “How would you feel about helpin’ me see that through?” The rogue removed that wooden case once Lora’s and set it on the bar open after taking a herb-laced cigarette from it, clearly offering Nortengaal to help himself to one. His hand somehow wasn’t burnt when he grabbed the glass top from a lantern on the bar and used it to light the end, setting it down so Nort could lean over to do the same if he picked up one.

Nortengaal finishes what’s left in his glass as well, setting it down and gladly helping himself to one of the offered cigarettes, leaning over to light it. A deep drag is taken from the smoke, and is held a good moment before Nort exhales off to the side. Their gazes meet and after a second Nort breaks into a wide grin. “I feel like i’d be happy to help however i could.” He refills his glass and Leo’s too if he’d like.

Leo afforded the trust to hold his glass in his hand for that refill Nortengaal provided, his other hand pinching that hempen rolled cigarette between thumb and forefinger for another drag. His eyes squinted as if the smoke got in them, but really he was just grinning subtly. “You know there’s a lot of us blaggards jus’ lookin’ to hit somethin’ without all the fanfare about it. We run a ring every now an’ then, cut the profits with the bet pool. I bet I could find the perfect bookie for the occasion, though I ain’t sure how far I trust that one, yet.”

Nortengaal takes a drink and drag in quick succession, and has to stifle a cough triggered by the dual burn of the smoke and the booze. Recovering quickly, he chuckles and nods a bit. “Aint that the truth. You have any places in mind? I could probably scout something out if you dont.”

Leoxander motioned toward that door that usually seemed locked or ignored, not far from the bar and table set up of that half warehouse space. “Got a cellar down there, but it needs some cleaning up. If you got somethin’ better in mind, I’d still like to keep it on this side of the waters.” He was oblivious to Mahri’s request for a meeting, if it had happened, or what might have gone down. “I can trus’ you, right, mate?” He took another toke from his hand rolled smoke with his eyes squinted in a more serious manner.

Nortengaal follows the line of sight to where Leo gestured, and wonders how he’d never noticed that door there before. Probably by being preoccupied with other things whenever he was here. He shakes his head. “No, cant say that i do, this is probably the perfect place anyways.” Another drink, another drag, another long exhale, this time through his nostrils, the smoke curling away not unlike some dragons breath. Meeting Leo’s eyes he nods solemnly, tapping his chest with two fingers in the semblance of a salute of some kind. “Yes. i aim to be the trustworthy sort.”

Leo nodded at the bearman. “We’re bringin’ back some life to this place as far as I’m bloody concerned. I’ll need those I can trust to keep things runnin’ smooth. But for tonight, I’ll leave you to yer therapy.” He capped the bottle and left it on the bar for Nortengaal, so the therianthrope had free access to punch away and even crash on the couch, bearing a curious tear in the arm rest, if he needed a place to work things out.