RP:Mud Wrestling, Cage Fighting, Sisters

Summary: Lanara gets a brilliant idea for how to announce her engagement to her sister, Talyara. She knows that marrying the infamous witch killer, Eirik, is going to send her little sister into a frenzy, and she thinks the best way to deliver the news is in a secure environment. So, she meets up with Orikahn, and the two strike a little business deal, where the sisters will mud wrestle. In a cage. At a public event. It's a win-win situation, as the feline will really bring in some gold, and the siblings can duke out their feelings with their fists. What could possibly go wrong?!

Frostmaw Tavern

Lanara sits on a stool, legs crossed, a tired expression on her pretty face, and her long hair has been piled atop her head in a messy bun. The witch clearly had come into the tavern to unwind after a long day, for a much needed vice. A glass of whiskey idly twirls in her hand each time she gesticulates, while conversing with Drargon in hushed tones. The barkeep throws his head back and unleashes a hearty laugh, though as patrons continue to pile into the establishment, he excuses himself to take orders. Lana sighs and shakes her head, swirling the amber liquid, before taking a long pull from the glass. Life in Venturil was hard. She hadn’t seen Eirik in weeks. And she was harboring so many secrets, from so many of her loved ones. The sleepless nights, constant travel, and consumption of liquor, was beginning to wear her down, and she knew that she had to do something drastic to pull her from this funk. Scanning the crowd, she clears her throat, and waits until Drargon steps behind the bar and begins to pour drinks, before she fixes him with a pointed question. “I thought you said Orikahn often drank here… This is my third night here in a row, and he’s nowhere to be seen. You know that I have to talk to him! It’s… Urgent.”

Orikahn hasn't shown yet, and Lanara's not the only one to have noticed. A dwarf in fur cap and heavy winter gear sits nearby at the bar and broods over his quart. "Days and weeks at a time, he'll run off gallivantin'," the eavesdropper grumbles and looks to Drargon for confirmation. The barkeep's eyes say it all; everyone in town has had their fill of Kahn, and if they were about to be honest, there were exactly *two* people in this bar who were eager to see the Prime Hunter at all, let alone drunk. Cue Orikahn, stage left. With a howl and bluster, the northern wind blows a frigid swirling blast of snow and frost through the front door, and with it comes the cat himself, clad thickly in furs and iced head to toe. He kicks the door shut behind himself. It being the dead of winter, at night, in a blizzard, Orikahn has bundled up double; every inch of him is covered save for his eyes, but that's enough anyway. Three phosphorescent orbs glow brightly from within the newcomer's deep, fuzzy hood. Stiff with stubborn chill, Kahn eagerly hobbles over to the fireside, unaware he's being expected.

Lanara gives a sidelong glance to the dwarf, her dark hues full of suspicion. It was a well-known secret that the witch had developed a dislike for those that didn’t grow above the height of her hips. There was something ‘off’ about the entire race, truth be told, and the fact that their growth was stunted didn’t sit well with Lana. Not to mention the last encounter she had with the dwarves was during Eirik’s match against Shishi! The midget cheerleaders had caused mayhem that night! Scoffing, she shakes her head, and doesn’t offer a response to the little man, though Drargon replies, with a curt nod. “Aye. That Cat-Man comes and goes as he pleases, Miss Lana. You can’t pattern someone of his nature. Can I get you a refill while you wa-“ The barkeep’s words are cut off as the chill enters the room, the door closes with a loud bang, and Orikahn himself steps into the bar. The barkeep, the dwarf, and Lana, all swivel to look at him, as he wanders over to the hearth, completely oblivious to the fact that the trio was just discussing his unpredictable habits of frequenting the tavern. Having waited for several hours, three nights in a row, the elf slips from the stool, grabs a mug of ale, and approaches the fireplace, her chocolate hues settling upon Kahn’s face as she offers the drink to the male. “Here. You look like you could use it. And… I was hoping to catch you, actually, for a few days… So. You drink. Warm up. And I’ll borrow your ear for a few minutes?”

Orikahn has just tugged off his gloves and is busy flexing his claws before the fire when Lanara approaches. His mute face snaps to appraise her, the drink. Somehow, he almost seems to have gotten *frostier* since coming inside, and while the elf talks, he knocks a spray of ice from his sleeves and begins tugging them away from his arms. The furs loosen around him, and his heavy top opens to fall slack around him and let in the warmth. Eagerly, feline digits work to unfasten his hood, and it opens to reveal the familiar, bizarre visage that is unmistakably Kahn. He takes the drink without so much as a "thank you" and downs an eager gulp, and another, and another while his free arm continues to tug and loosen and pry. Soon, he's bare from the waist up and sitting on the mantle. "Yes, good," is all he offers before setting down the empty mug and turning to warm himself again. The dwarf, meanwhile, bides his time, even if he watches the interaction with impatient scrutiny.

Lanara had already forgotten about the half-man that desired a moment with the feline, as Kahn works on removing his ice-covered attire and downs the ale. Upon seeing the mug empty, she exchanges a brief glance with Drargon, and moments later, a refill is delivered. Lowering herself into a plush chair, Lana crosses her legs, and folds her hands upon her lap, smoothing a few rogue snowflakes from her leggings, as Kahn had caused a frigid spray after removing his furs. Never one to beat around the bush, she gets straight to the point, her gaze deviating between the flickering flames, and the male atop the mantle. “Here’s the deal. I know that you are the coordinator of the Red Trophy Skull Ring. You arrange the fights. Well… I have a business proposition that I don’t think you will refuse. The shock factor alone is enough to bring in hundreds of viewers. And with that… Countless gold coins to fill your pockets. I feel that after Eirik and Shishi’s fight… I never wished to view another fight. He was unfairly judged. You and I both know that was –not- a fair outcome for either man. So I’m hoping that by me giving your fight another chance, you will also take that chance on me. Kahn, I will be your champion in the ring. I wish to fight my sibling, Talyara. I’m not sure if you’ve ever had the pleasure of meeting her, or not. She’s a witch, a little shorter than me, green eyes, a bit of a flirt? Well. Anyway. I plan on luring her to the ring under the guise of a ‘girls’ night out sunbathing, and she will then find out that we will be fighting. Men will come in droves to see two witches in bikini’s…. Mud wrestling. However, I do have some terms of my own that I wish to discuss with you, should you agree to such a match.” The elf pauses here, waiting to see his reaction, while collecting her thoughts on her ‘terms’ that she had yet to mention.

Orikahn rubs his ears with his forearms, rolling and stretching his neck and shoulders. The ebbing cold is finally starting to leave his core, and just in time! A fresh drink fills his hand. His brows raise in pleasure, and he eagerly accepts it. The feline's eerily glowing eyes slide over to Lanara now, and he blinks, studying her a little more earnestly. "Trophy... skull... ring," Orikahn mutters back, nodding along as she speaks. Countless gold. Extra chances. Girl's night. Orikahn takes a thoughtful sip. Meanwhile, the dwarf has taken an interest. Lanara's proposal has a broad grin forming on his pudgy cheeks and he gives Orikahn an encouraging nod. The sabertooth feline, noticing this, gestures for Lanara to go on. "We're interested," the bass of the cat's voice rumbles between them, "so tell us more."

Lanara looks annoyed upon seeing the dwarf listening in on their conversation, however, as the feline mentions that ‘they’ are both interested, she puts the pieces together. Apparently the mini-man was a business partner of Kahn’s, and so she gives the male a small smile, before continuing with her plans. “My reasons for this ‘fight’ are as follows… First, to prank my unsuspecting sister. Second, to have another shot at beating her up. We fought once before, but it ended with me being kidnapped and we never were able to see who the tougher sibling is. Third, to reveal a secret that I’ve kept hidden, this will in turn enrage my sister into attacking me, thus sparking the fight. And Fourth, because I’m strapped for gold, which brings us to my terms…” Pausing, Lana leans forward and lowers her voice, in case of any eavesdroppers. “I don’t want Janita as the referee, and I don’t want Gevurah as the judge. I care not if they are in attendance, but I don’t want them near me, while I’m fighting. Also… There won’t be a ‘sword’ or object to win, I assume, so I would like a small portion of the bets. Say… Twenty percent. That means you two can keep the other eighty percent. I will split my percentage in half with my sibling, regardless if she or I win. My cut will go towards funding my animal sanctuary. I was thinking we would have a mud wrestling match… But in a cage. The first woman to climb and exit the cage is the champion. The cage will also have a spell upon it, so that both Taly and myself are silenced. No magic use. Just our bikini-clad bodies, covered in mud, beating the living hell out of each other and racking up the gold. It’s a win-win. Taly and I work through our issues, while earning a little gold, and you two have the show of a lifetime.” Lana’s eyes twinkle with mischief, her mind full of ideas. “What do you say? You know I can draw in a crowd. I used to be an exotic dancer in Cenril. My sister is easy on the eyes, too.”

Orikahn and the dwarf exchange several glances as Lanara goes on. This is clearly shaping up to be an... unconventional fight to say the least. Eventually, Orkahn beckons the dwarf over. "I remember you," Orikahn tells her, "you had the dancers with you." The feline chuckles and licks his chops, wrinkling his nose in amused distaste. The dwarf interrupts by clearing his throat, "we've had shows like this before," the stout fellow explains, "and they've done well, commercially. Very sorry, ma'am, about the ah, billy clubs. Here," Folding his arms over his chest, the fur-capped dwarf rocks heel to toe, looks up to Kahn, then back to Lanara. "He's vouchin' for you, aye, so that's that. So those are good terms, and we'll call it all square. You can be sure this sister of yours," the dwarf narrows his eyes cautiously, "won't back out on the day of, hmm?" Orikahn, meanwhile, gets off the mantle to sit cross-legged by the hearth, watching Aodhan snooze amid the flames.

Lanara watches the two interact, and as she tries to judge their facial expressions, she finds that her cheeks develop a faint blush. Yes, they remembered the squad that had accompanied her to Eirik’s fight, and they also remembered the beating she had taken, to defend her betrothed’s honor. A nod is given, as she accepts the apology, and her full lips curve up into a wicked grin as the dwarf asks how she intends to assure him that her sibling would turn up to the event. “Oh. She will come, don’t you worry! My sibling won’t even know we’ll be fighting, until she arrives. I’m going to convince her it’s a high holiday for witches. I know a bit more about our heritage since I’m older, and I’ll tell her that in my studies I’ve come across a new day… I’ll drop off a package with a skimpy bikini and a letter. I’ll give the directions to a location near the fight. I’ll explain how we must ride our brooms and sunbathe on the rooftop, in an effort to bask in the light of the Goddess. As darkness nears, I will explain how we now have to bathe in the darkness, to find our true balance… We will head to the arena. There I will spill my secret. Taly knows not that I’m engaged to Eirik Vergessen… The infamous witch killer.” Lana pauses, knowing they would connect the dots. A witch hunter marrying a witch! This fight would be drama fueled, that much was for certain! “Trust me. I know my little sister. When she would out I was merely dating him? She broke my ribs, gave me a concussion, and threw me down a hill. In turn, I knocked her unconscious. I assure you both.., bards will make songs of this battle. You two can draw in a crowd, I hope? We can’t let any suspicion reach Taly’s ears...”

Orikahn downs the last of his second drink while the dwarf reaches into his coat to pull out, lo and behold, a scroll case stuffed with contracts. He takes a seat and hastily jots down the particulars. "...and no suspicion reaches Taly's ears," he repeats after Lanara, "there, now, sign yer life away, there on the line." He slides the contract and the fountain pen across the table toward the witch, then turns to give Orikahn a glare. "And too bad if you aren't thawed, you big galoot, get your coat back on." Surprisingly, Orikahn complies with little more than a resentful glare. He had indeed, after all, only just now gotten comfortable after coming in. There was work to be done, though, always work to be done. While Orikahn slips back into his winter layers, the dwarf stands a-tip toe to watch and see if Lana signs. It's a pretty stock bit of paperwork without any fine print. "Lucky thing Miss Lanara was here to improve my mood," the stocky businessman grumbles, "or I might have been cross for waiting."

Lanara scrutinizes the contract, seems content with the terms, and signs on the dotted line at the bottom of each page that requires a signature. She grins as the dwarf bosses around the large feline, finding their partnership to be rather amusing. Handing the contract back to the dwarf, she extends a dainty hand and shakes his chubby appendage, before extending her hand to Kahn. “Nice doing business with you fellows. Leave a note with Drargon for the day and time that works best with your schedule, and I’ll handle my sister. I’ll just need about a week’s notice, so I can work out any kinks that may come up, and so that I can find the perfect bikini’s for our match. Be seeing you both.” With that, she gives them each a lingering once over, and nods, before heading over to the peg to remove her fur-lined parka. Shrugging into the oversized jacket, she fills the barkeep in on what just transpired and that either the feline or the dwarf would be leaving a note here in the coming days. A minute later, and that heavy gust of wind would enter the room, as the witch makes her departure.