RP:Fibs Forges Alliances

From HollowWiki

Part of the Tales from the Row Arc



Synopsis: The Halfling halfling Fibs, member of Grot’s crew, begins to forge alliances that might be useful to The Razor. He recruits one of the bouncers from Kelay Tavern, and later makes the acquaintance of Yasmine while caught in a rough spot with the Burnham Boys.

Characters: Grot, Fibs, Yasmine, Demxy, Cerinii

Location: Kelay Tavern, Streets of Cenril




In the Kelay tavern, where Fibs had been loitering and drinking for a few days..

Fibs could be found buried in a bottle of amber liquid at the bar, near-motionless, and appearing quite the extraordinary child at the bar. Should one look a little closer at his countenance, they would observe heavy facial hair and rotted teeth that might dissuade them from believing he is younger than he really is. The only animation from his slight form is the occasional, almost mechanical drinking from a half-empty bottle.

Cerinii wasn't really interested in the other patron of the bar, and their height and first-glance appearance only added to the avoidance of her gaze. She hated kids. Well... She didn't 'hate' them, that's a strong word - she just didn't want to know them. She sipped from a flagon of ale, glancing around with trepidation. Clearly, Cerinii wasn't allowed to drink and was trying her best to sneak a drink in. A break from work this winter season, the woman was normally seen working.

Fibs was, for but a cursory glance over his shoulder, likewise oblivious to the oddly-comprised woman. He himself seemed to be drowning anxiety, or at least distracting himself from the events and goings-on about him. Wasn't anything seasonal or new for him, really, just his ritualistic routine. The setting was different, that much was true. The halfling appeared to be in a half-engaged conversation with the tavern musclehead, although the bouncer appeared to be trying to ignore his soliciting. Stooping over his cherished bottle of spirits, Fibs pressed him further: "C'mon, yer a big'un. Why not make a few coins, yeh?" Silently the enforcer just shook his head, and the trecherous runt that is Fibs made a disdained hissing sound in response.

Cerinii 's overly pointed ears perked at the disdain filled hissed. She glanced over to the halfling and the bouncer, sanguine eyes flitting between the two. She took another sip, some foam upon her upper lip. A quick swipe from her metallic wrist solved that little issue. She didn't say anything, she had no reason to speak to the halfling or have any words to say in regards to his actions. Mostly, because she didn't care for his actions with the bouncer.

Fibs thoughtfully imbibed again from his uncorked bottle of spirits. His voice, coalescing with phlegm and fatigue, continues to pester the bouncer. "I fig'er y'gots a thing fer that wench o'er there, yeh?" he asks maliciously, his eyes flitting towards the barmaid, Nancy. "Hardly took yer eyes off'er sin'I came in here th'other day!" Alas, it would seem the halfling had been here for some time, nursing away at that bottle all the while no doubt. "Y'ain't impressin' the lady lookin' about like a big oaf, y'know. Why don'cha do somethin' darin' an' ye'll make'r swoon." Fibs appears to be trying to bait the powerful man into some sort of perilous job.

Cerinii 's eyes flitted between the bouncer and Nancy, and then the halfling. She slumped slightly in her seat, flagon brought close to her lips. She muttered, "This should be good..." She anticipated something interesting to happen, obviously seeking some kind of amusement. Generally, people provided that with their antics.

Fibs seemed to be gaining ground with the gargantuan fellow, even if his prodding was eliciting a bit of a menacing response. The bouncer stared sternly at the halfling, flushing slightly in his face. Fibs chuckled heartily, wheezing a little at the unintentional effort. "Yer ears'r gettin' hot there, mate!" he said amidst snorts and chortles. He wasn't a sailor -he hated the rolling waves, and that ~is~ an appropriate context for the word- but by all means, he could talk like one. Salty and sour as could be. "Look'ere," he started after recovering from his bout of laughter, "I can help y'get the lady. Impress 'er real heroic-like, hm?" The musclebound man seemed to be actually considering the prospect, and brought himself closer to hear any further advice.

Cerinii chuckled lowly, unable to hide her amusement. "Oh, he's good." She smiled, taking a hearty gulp from her flagon of ale. Her feathers even ruffled with glee, she was so content. She sighed softly, smacking her lips together quietly with content at the taste of the ale. She even crossed her feet, setting them upon the chair to create a greater level of comfort.

A few more patrons filter in.

Fibs has been soliciting the tavern security for his own purposes, and seemed to be getting somewhere. The parapsychology that the runtish knave was capable of hardly showed itself in full light, but he was blatantly squirming his way into the bouncer's head with fanicful ideas of heroism and winning Nancy over. Ha! heroism: that was something totally aberrant to Fibs and his nature. "Standin' about all day on yer feet, practically droolin' over the lass," he continued. He'd already captured the big oaf's imagination, and he was bent over double to hear more. "Now feats o'fame, glory, nriches -that'll sweep'er off'er feet right-quick!" Yeah, smooth words as manipulative as a puppet's strings, they were. "All I needs is a couple-a extra hands. Case things get hairy, seen?" The bouncer nodded in return, rather stupidly.

Some patrons enter, some leave, but all remains unremarkable but the discussion taking place at the bar between the halfling and the bouncer.

Fibs appears to have made a new acquaintance with the tavern doorman. The two are observed shaking hands, if you could call it that, Fibs' appendage being consumed halfway up to his elbow by the colossal man's grip. "Edmund," voiced the bouncer in cavernous tones. Hell, that must've been the first time he spoke in here since -well, who can say they've ever heard the man speak? Just loafs about staring at Nancy and lets his imagination run wild betrothing the two. "Pleasure t'meetcha, Eddieboy, t'names Mardbell." That was a bald-faced lie, but it's not like the bodyguard could discern it so. "Now, hava seat'n we'll discuss th'terms, yeh?" Clumisly the cumbersome man made his way around the bar to be seated beside the halfling, dwarfing him in his presence. The unlikely duo would continue their discourse, albeit rather quiet and one-sided, interrupted only by the occasional nod and need to refrain to explain some things in simpler terms. Edmund smiled and nodded, raised a questioning hand here and there, but for the most part soaked every bit of it right up. When Fibs had finished discussing what seemed to be a comission for a hold-up robbery, fancifully embellished with lies, falsely-sweet morals and shadowed intent so as to not appear as such to his new friend, Edmund posed a question himself. "And how's this gonna get me the girl?" Fair enough, Fibs had overlooked that explanation, and necessary as it was for securing his position, he quickly evaded answering it directly. "Easy, Eddie'm'boy," he said, a dismissive hand waving erstwhile. "Tales o' bravery! 'sides, y'got gotta get out into the open air, seen? Cooped up'n here all day like'y'are, it ain't right fer a man like you. Maybe a horse, but notchyu. Gotta get out'n see the world, yeh?" All of this was utterly beguiling to Edmund the Bouncer, who nodded, his expression akin to a dog gaping at a bone. "Well now," continued Fibs. "We drink t'our comraderie, an' we head out on the road t'meet this no-good, cheatin' and swindlin' lout." "Yuh," moan-chirped Edmund, accepting the drink the little man poured for him. "I'll get him back for what he did to you, Mister Mardbell."


A few days later, in the open market of Cenril, Fibs found himself the target of a Burnham boy's assault..


Yasmine :: The woman who walked the streets of the Cenril market during the late afternoons was anyone but the dark skinned and eyed wolf that normally traversed this area. Instead the creature who seemed to be smirking with a rather non-chalant attitude was Nightshade, the ego with which Yasmine kept her two live separated with. This form had violet eyes that sparkled much like her namesake, long chocolate brown hair and pale skin that was only made more so by the vivid green that was the leather she wore. Her hopes were to find maybe these Burnham boys, or whatever their name was, and stir up some serious trouble.

Fibs could be seen through the spaces atwixt slowly-dispersing crowds of passerbys, apparently the focus of what drew the crowd. A giant of a man, possibly recognisable as the former Kelay tavern security, is hulking over a fallen and breathless man, probably half his size. The unlikely pair create a schism in the traffic of townspeople, and are not spared hardly a single glance. The colossus, named Edmund, glowers down at a defeated opponent, who's whimpers and shallow breath are barely audible. Fibs pats his friend on his back -lower back- congratulating him on his actions. Edmund seems perplexed, frustrated by what transpired. "It's okay, Eddieboy," assured the halfling, his shoulders just a hair over the former bouncer's waist. "'e was gonna gut the two f'us. Let's get goin' 'fore 'is boys show up."

Yasmine came around the corner to find this rather large crowd in a normally moving channel of people. Glancing from those who stood about with perplexed looks to the halfling and the colossus with a rather intrigued interest. Always a lover of a good fight. With the grace of her race she maneuvered easily between those who were still standing and those who had decided to occupy their time once more with business, materializing in a sense from the shadow of the crowd before the two males. A smirk, as malicious as it was charming, crossed the pale woman's lips. Her violet eyes moved first to large brute, memorizing every detail of him before flickering to the halfling. "Afternoon fellas." Her airy but sultry voice greeted as a pale hand was offered. Ready to make such a rather small talk meeting, she seemed to pause as if hearing the shrill sounds of what most would consider trouble, coming in their direction. It seemed the guards had been well informed of the matters of the market and had long before started out on their rather measly attempt to ensnare any they thought might be involved. With only a slight tilt of her gaze to the men circling around the corner her smirk turned less charming and more into an amused but still malicious one. Violet eyes danced with the prospect of a fight, anything to rile up and make the boys she was looking for come out to play. "Seems we have company." She mutters, now shifting her entire form towards the guards. "Are you all just as skilled with these, or ya going to leave them all to me?"

A Fox accompanied this woman, a Fox with a fur color of a soft looking Orangish-red. It's body is of a sleek, slender form perfect for an fox, two large ears of the same color except for their tips to be Blackened flicked quickly on his head, dancing you could say. As the fox rode on the woman's shoulders three rather puffy looking tails swayed slowly behind his form idly swatting at the air, Earthy slit eyes flickered happily at the different people passing by with a grin printed on his slim sized muzzle. He soon enough yips at the people passing hoping for attention, but to no avail as they kept going which made the fox give quite the dirty look behind their backs. In that mind of his it was a funny reaction, but it was known to happen from time to time right? Anyway he stops yipping and just enjoys the ride for the time being.

Fibs wasn't so brash as to try and linger after such an altercation, but then again he wasn't at fault for this matter. Like the guards would care; a familiar face such as his would surely solicit some brutality from the authoriarian brigade of steel-touting 'protectors', likely employed by Burnham, anyways. The victim of the violence, a member of the ex-merchant's entourage himself, remained groaning on the dusty thoroughfare, writhing slightly in a fetal position. A fair bit of blood was beginning to readily collect beneath him, and the sight of this clearly sickened the brutish Edmund. Poor bastard couldn't take his eyes of the dark puddle, just kept on staring at it like some kind of demon would manifest of it and jump out at him. Fibs pulled sharply at his tunic, taking near about all his might to break him from his stupor. "Y'hear me? Let's beat feet!" The attention they've gathered only growing, and a few exclamations of warning -"Guards!" assailing the halfling's ears, he was ready to evanesce with or without his newfound cohort. The large man finally stirred, looking about and lifting his gaze to meet the oncoming patrol of self-proclaimed constabulary. "Ah, feck," cursed Fibs, spitting on the ground. Quickly he lept over the slowly draining form of the nameless man, headed to mingle with the crowd in hopes of remaining unseen by the pursuers, leaving the brutish man disoriented. He followed shortly behind him, betraying the halfling's whereabouts to the patrol; the two partners entered the mass of faces and bodies right beside Yasmine and her precariously perched pet Demxy.

Demxy made a turn to look around upon Yasmine's shoulder which in the process makes the Fox slip from his perched area to hand on her clothing with thick claws. Pupils that of a cat's widened in focus to the sun up above before becoming thin to shut out any sensitivity, both ears did seem to swirl towards the commotion some feet away and flicker quickly while listening with some sort of intentions. Lingering for only a moment more in this awkward position he finally climbs up her form to take a seat, exhaling sharply at his misfortune before that small slender head snaps towards the two who had came into view. Blood...Blood now came into the Fox senses a good amount of it too, staying silent for the time being before black soft paws scrambled to hide within Yasmine's clothing a normal reaction for a pet to play no? Any who those three large tails that followed behind the creature hung lifelessly from wherever the Fox took refuge at, a muffled yip emits from within outwards to Yasmine and Yasmine alone.

Fibs was trying his best to conceal his presence and the implicative involvement in the fight -if you could call it that. He slipped between and past the crowd, who naturally hid his passage in their conglomerate haste. There were only a few onlookers who observed the entirety of the very quick encounter. It was an unantagonized attack, that much was true, but it escalated very quickly from an intimidative push and shove to a full on maim-and-kill melee. The man who suffered the most ill of it, a Burnham boy, intitiated the violence by shouldering and the halfling to the ground, whose face had become quite recognizable since his return to the town. Escorted around by the Razor, nonetheless. Fibs was beginning to grow familiar of the look those Burnham boys cultivated, and with but a few preemptive words to his comical sidekick, the urchin was accosted by the brute and a short scuffle ensued. Real short. Edmund was a solid man of muscle, with a pair of hands that could easily envelope and probably crush a man's skull with but a squeeze. He grappled and beat on the smaller man for a few moments. It only lasted long enough for blades to be drawn, at which point Fibs artfully stuck his own into the fray -and right into the Burnham boy's belly. This was all very sudden, in the lapse of a few seconds, and now here they were, trying to evade the deserved victim's associates. Guards? yeah right. Enforcers, more like. But truth be told, were they public defenders they would still be keen on capturing the little knave that was Fibs anyway. The onlookers were less than impartial in the affair, constant targets of Burnham's cruelty as they were. Those scum, the Burnham boys, were ruthless, relishing in their murderous endeavors on a daily basis. Now Fibs didn't intend on being either hero or murderer, but was rather looking out for his own skin and preserving his name. Besides, it was a good time to test his new cohort's stomach and commit his nerves to the new position.