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Fantasy Assassin's Pledge: Convergence (Shaharan)

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GojiBean

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Shaharan
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This thread is for posting within the nation of Shaharan only
 
Jaali Azer ambled alongside Vesi through Her'eshia's central marketplace. Acknowledging Vesi's wound, Jaali walked at a slow pace. Although Shaharan didn't have centralized cities, Her'eshia was always an epicenter of activity, and the market had been standard for many, many years. At almost all hours, it was a bustling hive of humanity, a place where business and leisure comingled. However, busy as it was, the torrent of humanity gave Jaali and his companion a respectable berth. Although gladiatorial combat was accepted in Shaharan, there was still a certain stigma surrounding the fighters themselves. Although some gazed at Jaali with respect and admiration, just as many viewed him with contempt and disgust. Such was the case in Shahara; each clan had its own values and taboos.

Street vendors shouted prices and waved their wares. Spice and incense vendors filled the air with tantalizing scents and aromas, while racks and spools of vibrantly dyed fabrics and silks added color to the scene. Stopping at a food vendor, Jaali took a moment to stop and inhale the pleasant smells. Looking back at Vesi, he noted the man's slight frame and pale complexion, which had probably not been helped by substantial blood loss. He must be quite hungry. I know I am. Rummaging in his pockets, Jaali produced a few precious stones, which he'd won from a successful fight a few days prior. Trading them to the vendor for a significantly large basket of food, he turned to Vesi. "You look like you're about to fall over, brother. How about some breakfast while we walk? Before Vesi could answer, a small boy ran up, nimbly clambering up Jaali's back effortlessly and perching on his shoulders like a monkey. Jaali snorted with rumbling laughter. "Yusuf, you seem to be getting heavier and heavier each day. I swear you'll break my back one of these days." Reaching into the bag and pulling out a sugar-dusted pastry, Jaali tossed it up to the street urchin, who caught it and took a bite out of it. Yusuf giggled and honked Jaali's nose, talking with his mouth full. "No one could break your back, Jaali, you're much too fat." Jaali roared with laughter. "Says the little imp with his mouth full of Awamut. Say, Yusuf, you and your boys keep an eye on the main announcement boards, yes?"

Yusuf took another bite, then nodded."Yeah, sometimes." "Have there been any new papers on the bounty section? Vesi here's looking for work." The boy scratched his head with a sugar-coated hand, staring at Vesi with curiosity. "Men post stuff there all the time. Should still be some bounties left, I think."

Turning, Jaali smiled and popped an Awamut pastry into his own mouth, offering the container to Vesi as well. "Looks like you're in business. But first, you gotta eat something, yes? Here."

Walliver Walliver
 
Vesi Enkeli was, to be rather crude about it, lost. Her’eshia was a busy, bustling place. Eyes everywhere. Opportunities to hide weapons, commit crimes. It was an overload of information, details couldn’t be processed fast enough. He wondered if he looked as overwhelmed as he felt. His heart was pounding, chest heaving. A wonder the stitches hadn’t pulled.

“I-” Vesi was confused by the whole interaction. How did everyone know each other? How was everyone so....so open? Sure, they were close in Triveila. Close enough to not be strangers, except for him of course. But this....this was madness to him. He vaguely registered the question. “I...I’ll be fine. Thank you for the offer.” his voice was breathy, distant. A market was no place for a bounty hunter.

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Jaali considered pushing the offer but decided against it. Vesi was a grown man and he knew himself better than Jal did. If he felt like starving, so be it. Besides, they weren't exactly friends. Shrugging his shoulders and tossing Yusuf another pastry, the trio gradually made their way to the group of large announcement boards. Sheets of paper detailing announcements ranging from job offerings to lost pets covered the three large wooden panels inset into stone foundations. In the corner of the left-most one were the bounties. Each one followed a template; A sketch or a description of the target, details about the assignment, and a reward amount.

With Yusuf still perched on his shoulders, Jaali looked over at Vesi. "See anything you'll be interested in?"
 
Vesi’s eyes scanned the pieces of paper with a practiced concentration. ‘Rogue clan member? No, too much of a risk, still recovering.’ his hand dashed from that piece to another. ‘Cheating husband? Yikes, the wife’s probably more dangerous then...’ fingertips barely brushed another piece. ‘Ah yes, abusive spouse. That’ll do.’ he tore the sheet from the wall, tucking it into one of his many pockets.

“Yes, I do believe I have. Thank you for-” he stopped suddenly. The world was a swirl of colors for a few moments. ‘You’re exhausted. Starving. In a place you don’t know and don’t like.’ his brain supplied. “-your assistance, Jaali Azer.” he finished his sentence quickly. “I’ll be out of your way now, sir.”

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Vesi got halfway through before excusing himself before he visibly weakened. With his free hand, Jaali reached over and steadied the bounty hunter, "Sorry brother, but I don't think it'll be that easy." Jaali smiled. "If you don't recall, you were bleeding out in a tavern but a few hours ago. You know, I was thinking. What if old Jaali helped you work a contract or two while you recuperate? I'll admit, I don't know you very well, but a man who hunts abusive spouses can't be all bad, yes?" Yusuf nodded his head vigorously as he doodled a picture on Jaali's bald head with some paint. "You should take his help, mister. You look terrible. Awful, even."

Jaali could tell that Vesi would probably turn him down, so he pre-empted the young man's rejection. "I've got a fight lined up in a few hours, and this should serve as a nice warmup. So we'll call it even."

Walliver Walliver
 
“Saving me and then helping me again doesn’t sound very even.” Vesi muttered, running a hand over his face. But considering sheer willpower and the gladiator’s hand were all keeping him steady, he could accept some help. Just this once. A contract or two in Shaharan, and then he would find his way out of there. Maybe he would go back to Triveila. See a performing troupe, relax. Maybe. “Thanks for the compliment, kid.” he smiled up at the youngster.

“And I’ll accept. A contract or two, and then you get to your fight. I’ll be rooting for you, Jaali.”

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Happy that Vesi had accepted his offer, Jaali beamed and clapped his hands together. Looking down, Yusuf saw this and copied the action. "So, where to, Vesi? Where can we find this abusive spouse?" In his head, Jaali knew that bounty hunting in Shaharan might require a little more planning. Everyone in Shaharan fought their own battles, so butting into another clan's business on the pretense of bounty hunting would almost be universally unacceptable, even more so because Jaali himself was a Shaharan. They'd have to be smart about it.
 
Vesi took a closer look at the sheet. “I’m not sure. It’s not very clear, only that it’s in dangerous clan territory.” he mentally cursed for not noticing it before. “I’ll take this one alone then. Don’t want to ruin your reputation, gladiator.” Vesi kept his eyes away, worrying they would betray him. ‘The eyes are the windows to the soul, the key to your annihilation.’ the words echoed in his brain.

“Maybe next one.”
 
Jaali opened his mouth to protest again, but decided against it and closed it. It looked like Vesi was determined to do things by himself after all. Well, he had to admire the guy's resolve. Or foolishness, it all depended on if he had the stuff to back his words. Smiling, Jaali shook his head. Vesi was an interesting man, he surely had some tricks up his sleeve. "So be it." Looking over at the sheet, Jaali noted that the target belonged to the Noori clan, a tribe known for its brutal initiation rites and tough fighters. Shrugging, he started heading off towards the direction of the arena, which was located near the center of the market. Without looking back, he raised a single hand as a goodbye. "Good hunting, Vesi! Don't die." Yusuf looked back and did the same, sticking out a tongue.
 
Vesi gave a small smile and waved goodbye, feeling his chest tighten. The Noori clan fighters were arguably the most brutal, most dangerous of them all. And he had just agreed to go up against one, maybe more! “You are an absolute imbecile, Lua.” he shook his head. He’d have to make due. Needed the money, needed to get away.

The way through the desert was long, but his stitches held. The drawing was almost exact to the real house, if the screams coming from inside were anything to go by. He approached carefully from the back, cutting open the tent. A burly, darker-skinned man stood over a lighter-skinned woman.

“You will do as I say! Nothing more, nothing less! You are my wife!”

The man was clearly out of his own mind. Drunk, raising a broken clay bowl to his terrified wife. Vesi reacted quickly. He jumped up on the man’s shoulders, stabbing a small blade into the small of his back. The Noori clan fighter, grabbed him roughly and threw him to the floor. Vesi felt the breath knocked from his lungs.

But the fighter dropped to the floor, dead a few moments later. Poison. Vesi stood up, trembling and paler than before. “Are you alright, miss?” he asked, voice soft and concerned. The woman’s face was littered in cuts and bruises, as were her arms. She shook her head. “I am in your debt, kind man.” she threw her arms around him. He couldn’t help a visible flinch, but he guessed it was a nice feeling. Appreciation.

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As Vesi hunted his bounty, Jaali realized he was in danger of losing a fight. And his life. After parting from Vesi's company, he'd joined a lethal combat match against a man nicknamed Ibith, with a smaller, more exclusive audience that consisted of wealthy Shaharans. Lethal gladiatorial fighting wasn't the norm in Shaharan, but many still had a taste for bloodsports. Also, it usually paid a lot better than nonlethal stuff. Ibith was another gladiatorial fighter from Northern Shaharan, and like Jaali, he appeared to be the respective champion of the ring where he was from.

Jaali and Ibith circled one another in the bloodstained sand, each eyeing the other for weaknesses or opportunities as they caught their breath. In addition to a fancy suit of gladiator armor, Jaali's opponent wore a heavily decorated helmet that obscured everything except for his eyes. Although he was smaller in stature, Ibith possessed no shortage of strength or speed and had shown incredible skill fighting with a two-handed saber. Jaali's swings were only hitting sand or air, and even though he had no shortage of stamina, his limbs were starting to tremble from the exertion. Ibith took note of this and taunted while he circled. "You're shaking an awful lot for a Mountain. Ya know, they told me you were good. So far, it looks like they were lying." Jaali grinned. He had to admit it, the guy had spunk. "Me? Shaking? Must be your own eyes rattling around in your skull." Jaali laughed, hefting his huge hammer in a show of strength. "Now come on and fight! A Shaharan doesn't prove himself on words alone!" Ibith returned the challenge with his own grating laugh. Slashing the ground with his saber, he sent a shimmering wave of sand into the air as the onlookers oohed and aahed. "That's more like it! I couldn't agree more!"

Ibith charged in. His saber swings moved with so much force, they turned into flashing, glittering arcs of murderous steel. Using the long handle of his hammer, Jaali blocked as many of the hits as he could. Unable to raise his guard fast enough for Ibith's last swing, Jaali felt a burning pain as Ibith's blade cut through the armor that was protecting his left leg. Ibith howled in victory as he dragged the blade along, getting ready to strike another blow. "Weak!" Realizing he didn't have time to swing his weapon, Jaali released his hammer and grabbed Ibith's by the throat. With a roar of fury, the gladiator summoned a gargantuan effort from his tired muscles and threw his opponent away from him in an effort to make some space.

Rolling in the sand, Ibith quickly recovered his footing, rubbing at his throat with one hand while gripping his saber with the other. Panting, Jaali took a shuddering step backward, weighing his options.
 
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Vesi felt something very very wrong. Deep in the of his stomach, a dreadful feeling had taken root. Something terrible was happening, he just knew it. “Ma’am, let’s get you to a healer.” it was the only thing he knew to say. He couldn’t simply dismiss the woman, not when she was injured and had just witnessed her husband’s death. The Noori woman nodded, taking his hand to lead her out of the tent.

Vesi, somehow, felt his way back to Aaminah’s hut. “Sorry to bother you again, but could you check this woman over? Thank you.” Vesi closed the tent flap as quickly as he had opened it. He needed to get to the arena. Jaali was in trouble, he needed help. Vesi, for once in his miserable life, needed to get himself together and help someone who actually cared.
 
He couldn't spare a glance to look down, but Jaali could feel the warmth of his blood quickly flowing down his leg. Based on how much trouble it was causing him to move the limb, he could tell that Ibith had definitely injured an important muscle. This is nothing. I've survived worse. Sensing weakness, Ibith charged forward again, seemingly unphased. Squaring his feet and using his hammer handle to protect himself from another flurry of blows, Jaali eventually locked it against a curve in Ibith's saber, turning the fight into a test of strength. Realizing that he had the upper hand in size and strength, Jaali pressed his advantage, easily forcing Ibith's blade back with the sound of metal screeching against metal. Ibith's eyes lost their arrogant gleam as he realized he was being pushed back. That's when he dropped a hand, grabbed a small dagger out of his belt, and plunged it into Jaali's side with vicious force. The spectators murmured. Ibith was fighting like a coward, but it was a fight to the death. If he was willing to sacrifice his reputation, so be it.

Jaali spat blood as he felt his legs start to shake. It felt like he was being submerged in freezing water, a lancing pain coursing through his chest every time he took a breath. The wound didn't feel fatal, but it was definitely enough to swing the fight in Ibith's favor. Ibith cackled like a desert wolf, leaving the knife stuck in Jaali's side. "Sorry about that Jaali, but the crowd can be so fickle. I might be the best, but you might've gotten lucky. No hard feelings, yeah?" Buckling from the wound, Jaali began to give ground, inch by inch. He had neither the strength nor the opportunity to return words. Time seemed to move in slow motion as his mind began to wander away from the bloody death that was hurtling towards him. The throbbing of his heart seemed to fade in his ears.

I wonder if Vesi got his man. I would've loved to see him fight; I bet he's great at it. He's an interesting one for sure; a wanderer. I hope he finds what he's looking for. And I wonder how my family's doing. At this time in the day, they'll be up and about. Mother will be brewing her tea, singing in that angelic voice that charms the songbirds out of the trees. Father will be smoking a pipe with some of his fellow merchants, stroking his graying beard and passing rumors about lucrative markets and trade opportunities. And Sajira, my beloved sister, will be feeding the veritable menagerie of animals she keeps as pets. With a parrot on one shoulder and a snake coiled up on the other, she's probably doodling a comical sketch of one of the merchants, laughing her tinkling laugh. And me? What am I doing out here?

Ibith's sickening cackle brought Jaali back to the present. Instead of the dreamy vision of home, Jaali found himself looking at Ibith's eyes, which stared back at him fanatically through the eyeholes of a twisted metal mask decorated to resemble the leering smile of a madman. The jarring charge angered Jaali to no end. Who does he think he is? Dirty tricks and endless arrogance; he dares to call himself a fighter! He brings shame to the Shaharan people! Jaali felt a tide of anger take control of his consciousness. I can't die here. There are still things to do. Who will keep the other street boys from bullying Yusuf? What if Vesi needs help? Jaali felt strength returning to his leaden limbs with each beat of his furious heart.

Walliver Walliver
 
Vesi knew he shouldn’t. Shouldn’t have done a lot of things. He shouldn’t have chased the rogue, he shouldn’t have gone to the bar. He shouldn’t have taken the bounty, he should have been there for Jaali. He knew he shouldn’t be running, that his wounds were screaming at him to stop, but his legs pounded through the sand to the arena his heart led him to.

‘Jaali is in trouble. An innocent is in trouble. Save him, Vesi Enkeli. Save him. Do something, you dolt!’ his grandmother’s voice was shrieking in his ears. His mind was on Jaali, his almost-friend, his savior. His body carried him up a wall and to the top of a strange, open stadium. Jaali, bloodied. A stranger, seemingly victorious. He had to stop it. Vesi climbed down, chest tight, breathing labored unhealthily.

“STOP!” his normally quiet voice rang through the arena. “This is madness! What you are doing, this bloodsport, is bad enough but- allowing a cheater to fight the best amongst you? Have you Shaharians no shame? Are you such savages that you cannot comprehend honor? Compassion? Mercy?” he gestured to the crowd. “Have you no intelligence, great people of Shaharan? You’re supposed to be better than the rest of us, not worse! All of us! Triveilans, Cre’Estians, Shaharanians, all of us! Can you stop killing each other for a moment?!”
 
Vesi's outburst turned almost every head in the arena. Coming in from either side of the Triveilan bounty hunter, two hulking bodyguards dressed in full plate armor intercepted him, their huge polearms forming an X in front of him with a clank. The master of the arena, a portly man in exquisite red and gold robes, stepped forward. A short figure, he easily slipped past the crossed weapons. Sighing exasperatedly, he adjusted the magnificent plumed feather in his turban before meeting Vesi with a cold smile that exposed several gold teeth.

"A bold speech, my friend, but I'm afraid it's a fruitless one. In the arena, there are no rules. Ibith may be fighting dishonorably, but here..." The arena master spread his arms, indicating the colosseum around them. "Here in the arena, it is allowed. This is a match to the death, and your, ah, friend, knows the risks. Jaali Azer has been fighting and killing at this arena for many years. The boy's almost like a son to me..." The arena master rubbed two fingers together in a symbol of wealth before laughing. "Trust in him to emerge victorious."

"Oh, and one more thing."
The arena master gestured to the arrayed crowd of spectators. More than one had his or her hand on a weapon, shooting glares at Vesi. "You'd do well to mind your tongue. We Shaharanians may be at peace with the rest of the kingdoms, but the word savage will earn you no love here. Please, have a seat with me in the front row, and we shall see how Her'eshia's favorite son fights."

In the center of the arena stage, Jaali and Ibith turned their heads. For a moment, their efforts slackened. Although blood dripped from Jaali's chin, he smiled. So, Vesi got his man after all. Ibith snorted. "Ah look, Jaali. Some blue-haired runt in a collar is here to see me win. Shame, sounds like he isn't very fond of our sport though."

Walliver Walliver
 
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‘No. Please, no. Auxerellia, no!’ at that moment, he felt like a small child. The hero of a pointless adventure story. Useless, worthless, effort wasted on something he couldn’t control. But the fire in his heart only burned brighter, deeper, flames building into a roar. “I don’t care whose son he is, I don’t care about your money. He dies, I kill you all.” the words were venomous, aimed directly at the man and his guards.

Vesi couldn’t have been sure he could keep that promise. His legs were shaking, struggling to keep his slight frame from toppling over. His chest heaved with every breath he took. His knife wound hadn’t reopened enough to be trouble, but his side stung with sand and dirt clinging to it. He could very well be dying, but a promise was a promise. If Jaali was killed, everyone in the arena would be dead too.

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Jaali roared with laughter as he heard Vesi's threat over the din of the crowd. Glad to see that the man was alive, he felt blazing resolve combine with the anger boiling inside of him. Genuinely puzzled, ibith began applying more force to break the deadlock their weapons were stuck in. "I'm about to win! Why are you laughing?" As Ibith raged, Jaali quickly formulated a new plan of attack. Up until now, he'd focused on keeping hold of his hammer, but it had constricted him. It was time to revisit the basics; good old fashioned brawling. With a twisting movement that sent lancing pains through his stab wound, Jaali heaved his hammer away, with Ibith's saber still locked against it. Ibith, his arms caught at a painful angle by Jaali's movement, was forced to release his weapon as well. Both hammer and saber fell into the sand a few feet away. Using his anger to propel himself forward, Jaali threw a huge amount of force into a front kick using his uninjured leg. Almost ankle-deep in the churned up arena sand, Ibith was unable to avoid the hit. With an impact that sounded like a gunshot, Jaali's foot smashed into Ibith's lightly armored right knee. The crack of bone was quite audible. As Ibith reeled, tears fell from Jaali's eyes as he felt the cut muscles in his leg protesting and tearing at the movement. Just a little more! Victory is within my grasp, at the turn of the tide!

Ibith screeched like a desert banshee as the crowd cringed at the sight of the clearly shattered leg. Jaali spat blood as he shouted, "A leg for a leg!" Ibith threw a left punch that rattled Jaali's jaw, but the blow was one borne of desperation and did no damage to Jaali's huge frame. Using the opportunity, the challenger reached into a hidden sheath and produced a short sword. Limping towards Jaali, he swung the blade with the strength of a madman. Evading the desperate chops and slashes, Jaali's fist cannoned into Ibith's gut. "Blow for blow!" The force knocked Ibith to his knees, and he dropped the sword. Heaving and coughing, he drew a final dagger from his belt with a scream of anger. Ibith forced himself to his feet, then looked up. The hatred in his eyes was replaced with fear.

Jaali had retrieved his hammer and was already swinging it towards Ibith's head. The metal mask crumpled like tin foil. The sound Ibith's jaw made when it separated from his skull was hard to describe, but a rotten melon being smashed by an iron bar was close. Ibith fell to his knees, gurgling and coughing as his blood sprayed against the sand. Limping over, Jaali withdrew the dagger in his side with a wince. "Not too bad. But not good enough." With a snort of disgust, he drove the dagger into Ibith's skull, finishing the job. Through the eyeholes of the ruined mask, ibith's eyes rolled upwards before he collapsed into the sand.

Lethal gladiatorial fights were usually quite gory, but the sheer violence of this match stunned even the most hardened onlookers. The announcer stuttered as he reached for the horn and made the post-fight announcement. "Ah, uh, Ibith Fasul, the Bloody Jackal, has been crushed by the Mountain! I present to you the undefeated, indisputable champion! Jaaaaali Aaaazer!" The colosseum erupted in cheers as the arena's employees trooped out to retrieve Ibith's corpse. Clutching his wounded side and covered in blood, Jaali made a ghoulish sight. Waving to the crowd and shooting a thumbs up at Vesi in the stands, the gladiator slowly limped out of sight.

The arena master leaned over to Vesi and chuckled. "So Jaali lives to fight another day. I must admit, Ibith made it farther than most; I dare say your arrival spurred our boy onto greater heights, yes?"

Walliver Walliver
 
Vesi was beyond simple fear. He was terrified. Of the people in the arena, of Jaali. He was an assassin first, bounty hunter next, but never had he seen such brutality. The gore, the blood spatter. Vesi pushed himself to trembling legs, forcing himself to follow after the gladiator. But not before growling in response to the arena master.

“Jaali, wait...” the young Triveilan stumbled along, tracking the Shaharan as he limped away. “Where-” The smell of blood was nearly overwhelming. Ibith’s, Jaali’s, his own. All crushed into one morbid, acrid stench. Vesi wanted to collapse then and there. Have it be over with. He didn’t want to see Jaali as a monster.

“Jaali,” he caught up to the man, putting a shaky, pale hand on his arm. “Please, just stop. Let’s get you...both ourselves to Aaminah.” his fingers tightened. “And you can explain to me what you were doing in a fight to the death.”
 
Jaali beamed, his bright smile clashing with the blood that was covering his dark skin. Dragging his hammerhead through the dirt, Jaali used the cumbersome weapon as a crutch of sorts as he hobbled alongside the bounty hunter. "Ah, Vesi! Good to see you! Yes, I'd like to see Aaminah too." Probing the stab wound in his side, carefully, Jaali's smile was replaced by a painful grimace. Noticing the look on the young man's face but not understanding what he was getting at, Jaali chuckled. "What was I doing? I was fighting, of course! Damn good fight it was too, even though that Ibith was a snake."

Walliver Walliver
 
Vesi nodded, keeping his hand on the Shaharanian’s arm. “Aaminah is nice. A little rough around the edges, but nice.” he swallowed a few quiet tears. Bounty hunters don’t cry. Not even when they’re scared, not even when they’re in pain. “Sorry for the-” he fought another shake, another protest from his side. “-rude entrance I made there...” he looked down as he walked, feeling small. Weak. Pathetic. Any number of puny adjectives to describe himself. “I won’t do it again, promise.”
 
Jaali scraped a piece of Ibith's face off of his hammer handle nonchalantly. Looking over at Vesi, he scoffed. "Nonsense, I'll hear no such apologies from you. You did what you thought was right, and tried to save my life." The gladiator looked over at the bounty hunter and grinned. "It's been some time since I've seen someone treat the arena master that way, and it was quite refreshing to listen to even though I was preoccupied with other things." The pair drew no shortage of odd glances as they made their way through the streets of the city.

Eventually, the two reached Aaminah's tent. Taking a hand and placing it on Vesi's head comfortingly, Jaali smiled reassuringly. "Now dry those tears, or else Aaminah will be all over you."

Walliver Walliver
 
Vesi smiled up at the giant, a strange feeling in his heart. Gratitude maybe. Admiration. “Right, right.” Vesi took to quickly wiping his eyes. “Wouldn’t want that now would we? She is a rather nervous one, from what I’ve seen.” he shuddered at the thought of the night before.

“Suppose you’d like to go in first? I could wait a while more, your injuries are more serious....” his voice faded out again. Internally cursing his luck, he knew he had no other way to communicate. Fingers reached up to untie the straps of his muzzle once again. He gestured to the tent flap. ‘Go on, go in. I’ll be right out here, waiting.’

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"If you say so, brother." Before Jaali could pull the tent flap aside, Aaminah pulled it aside for him. Jaali, suddenly self-conscious of his messy appearance, grinned awkwardly. "Ah, uh, Aaminah! Is that a new hair ribbon? Looks great!"

Aaminah cocked an eyebrow, crossing her arms and frowning. "Jaali Azer, you big idiot, I could see that big fat shadow of yours through the tent from a mile away. This is the second time in as many days that you've come crawling to see me. What is it this time?" Jaali snickered, then winced as he pointed to his wounds. "The usual, Aaminah. Got a few holes punched in me, but it turned out alright in the end." Aaminah's face contorted with anger. "Did you join another lethal match? You did, didn't you!" Jaali paused for a moment, trying to think of an excuse. Aaminah smelled the lie coming, growled, and angrily punched the gladiator a few times in the belly. "You promised you wouldn't join another one after the last one! You could've died!" Jaali groaned, halfheartedly trying to restrain her as he looked back at Vesi's shadow through the tent. "I don't understand why you'd be upset, Aaminah. I'm your best customer! You know the paymaster gives me more for the bloody ones."

After stammering for a few moments, Aaminah settled on "I hate you" and retrieved her medical supplies. Grumbling under her breath, she plied her trade with her usual expertise, stitching up Jaali's wounds in a timely manner. When she was done, Jaali slowly got to his feet and examined the tightly bandaged injuries. Satisfied, the gladiator reached into his pockets and pulled out a small bag containing chips of ancient amber. Sighing, Aaminah took the payment, hefted it in her hand, and secured it to her belt. Hesitant to put weight on his leg, Jaali pointed a thumb towards the tent flap. "Vesi's here too. I think he's looking to get an update on his stomach wound." Aaminah's anger was renewed. Accentuating each word with a jab or a poke, she berated the gladiator. "You left a wounded man out in the sun? What's wrong with you?"

Calling out to Vesi while she elbowed Jaali aside, Aaminah moved the tent flap aside. "Vesi? Come in, let us see how you're doing."

Walliver Walliver
 
Vesi, eavesdropper that he was, couldn’t help but stifle a giggle. The conversation had made it clear: Aaminah and Jaali were more than just casual acquaintances. Much more. Love interests, he supposed. He hadn’t been coherent enough to notice the night before, but they were close enough to be courting. Not that he’d know what courting was. Every girl in Triveila thought he was a demon, a messenger of Sa’kte. Every man in Triveila thought he was a monster, out to steal every maiden and devour them. Blue hair and a muzzle could ruin one very quickly in Triveila.

His eyes had slipped shut some time during the conversation. It was hot, scorching. Or cold, maybe. Vesi thought he heard Aaminah’s voice again, talking to him. “Aaminah? It’s cold out here....” he sounded so small. “I’m sorry to bother you ma’am...” he pushed himself up. “But....I don’t feel so good....”

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