[Private] And this is why a Viking is good. (Grimm)

There were many, many terms used to describe the Shardi, many of which were either frought with fear; and many more wrought with violence and hatred. You see, since Shard, a rather cold, unforgiving, and ultimately deadly part of their world- was home to many of the 'Raiders'. Although this was not a proper name for them, since they didn't raid- exactly, nor were they some lowlifes trying to make some coin by stealing a woman away and selling her. No, the large patron, who's furs and cloak made him appear far larger, was indeed a Vikingr, or, as close an approximation in the world at large.

Now, what was curious was the fact this was a bar in Grimm- not the coldest place on Meddus that's for certain; and not, in all honesty, where you normally find his sort. Given that he seems to be enjoying himself despite the cold reception on behalf of near everyone, save maybe the serving wenches, he either is strong enough to not care- or simply ignorant because of hushed whispers and furtive muttering.

However the large warrior was contemplating the situation at hand himself, as he indeed heard the words- the fear. It made him smile privately that they thought it was he who was the threat. Not they, not the cowardly Grimm peoples who would as soon poison you as sell you a slave. And a major issue was the fact he wasn't native, hell, the man was probably in 'slave' category and it pissed these warm-landers off to know he was not going to submit to their whims. Ha! It could almost make him spit- but he was polite enough while within such a place to not spittle upon the ground. That and also the ale was good and the women rather fine if he said so himself. Although when he did look around- he found, to his lack of surprise that there were angry eyes upon him. Their faces contorted with disgust, rage, hatred. And... a few had other emotions he cared to not indulge himself into because it would indeed make him mad.

As he stood, many heads showed a shock that- indeed, while he seemed larger than he was while sitting- that massive frame indeed was as large as it seemed. And, as he lifted his hefty mace free of the mooring that was at the side of the table (for the establishment catered to individuals with weapons). His titanic frame- in comparison to most around him; a few Scarabin of his own build still gave him Lurid stares, even as he turned his mutilated face toward them and simply snarled. His words being curt, short, and generally offensive toward those staring at him with lust. "I do not play such games with men, find your entertainment elsewhere.", his rough, gravely voice intoned with dark resentment toward what he felt an offense in his honor.

Men wishing to mate with him! Ha! He was thankful he lacked a Latch or it might be more a reality!

And with that he strode out of the establishment, much to the shock of everyone- a fight hadn't started. No one had died. Property was still with it's rightful, or not so rightful, owners.

And the source of their rage was gone.

Everything returned to normal- but, now there was a particularly peeved warrior walking the streets. The perfect bait for anyone who believed themselves a salesman or saleswoman of wares or... perhaps an assassin. He could use the fun.

The buildings around him only amplified the perpetual gloom. The frown upon his face as he walked along rows of houses, darkened with soot, black mold, and age- not to mention the ocean's salty air, managed to cause him no end of confusion. You see- he was used to houses pristine and white, not because of care, but because of how cold the climate was. Freezing rain, ice, and snow. It caused him little distress as he walked; his thick feet clomping on the ground as he moved with slick grace through the remains of homes, a ghetto if he'd ever known the word. He saw, whores, dressed in drag or nothing at all; solicitations ignored as he walked.

He had no need for a sivving that may serve to infect him with child.

He wished not for such a thing- for he would be forced into responsibility for something he had not planned. Nor would he neglect his own brood. T'was not the way of them and theirs, nor his nature as a man. He did spit finally, his jaw snapping closed with a remarkably Scarabin growl of disgust.

He wished his Thane had not chosen to get food in Grimm, he could've let his own rations go just to not be here... And they were stuck for a few days due to 'trade complications'.

Fantastic...

Life... had taken an unexpected turn for the worse for the she-scorpion, she realized as she wallowed her feet through the slightly muddy streets of Grimm, the ports to be exact. She had once roamed all the land of Fellgrad, Darpan and even Pentra...The three main continents of the Meddian realm... She had lacked the knowledge to realize that there were more than just them. So when she had proposed to her girlfriend at the time, Anmut a water-stick who was...blatantly put, a rather tall she-meddian of the mantos variety, she had not appreciated the ideas the dromos had. Her idea? Explore Grimm, Monsom, Shard, all of the other continents. Maybe even Los Tandum. This she-scorpion's heart was set to roam, always had been. Anmut had been alright with that as long as she was kept safe. In Grimm, Anmut would probably not feel as safe as she liked, hence the abandonment.

Haddy sighed. She'd never even gotten to break her petit waterstick, either. Haddy'd been polite to the meddian's wishes for abstinence until a completely and whole-hearted relationship between them formed. Then Haddy's desire to explore happened...And that was the end of them, apparently. So now the tan and brown scorpion who, in all apparent senses, looked, sounded, walked, and seemed male! She was anything but feminine, with her strong figure. She didn't even have nipples for the Mother's sake, just pecs! She was completely masculine, except... for her eyes. Those pale grey eyes that glowed now, faintly in the dark of Grimm, ashes covering the sky making the darkness that much stronger. Which made her glow all the more. Most dromos had faint glowing properties about them, some more so than her, but her eyes stood out i the dimly lit street she slopped her bare feet through. She felt the gook between her toes and grimaced. It was cold out, too much for her liking really. She had never liked the cold. She had thought Grimm to be at least warmly humid in a gross way, but then that was true during the day. It was stark night. Again, she'd forgotten the details that she was a nocturnal meddian for the most part. She had been a day-time dromos for Anmut's sake. Now she was on her own time, and that meant nighttime, thank you very much!

She glanced up at the lady-insects in disgust as they attempted to cat-call her over, thinking her male. Pity them, Haddy's heart was too heavy set with emotion and regret of her loss of the mantos who, hearing the word Grimm, had fled the same night with nothing left to reminisce on. At all. Haddy lowered her eyes again sorrowfully, claws pinched tight against each other and pulled back tight, her tail curled in the same, reproachful manner. So much for exploring Grimm with a happy intent.

One could suppose she was a rather decent sized dromos, though, she could protect herself, get around places just fine without being bothered. Mostly. But so far in Grimm she'd nearly been in five fights, three she came out of victorious with only minor scratches and maybe a dent in an armor plate, but one she came out of with a black eye she still sported, amongst other wounds. Some of those were a large gash across her nasal plate, one of her arm-spikes' tips snapped off, and to top it off, three slashes across her midsection to show how pissed off her opponent had been, in desperation to try and screw her brains out. Lovely. The fifth one... she had full out run and hid in terror due to it being another scorpion, and male on top of it, who bore too much resemblance to her father for her to remain sane. Her past relations with her father were so scaring on her... she didn't wish to face them yet still.

So she kept her head low, claws and tail tucked in half-submission, an promptly found herself walking straight into a wall and landing on her backside writhing from the collision, claws and tail flailing. Until she actually got a good look at the wall that had knocked her down so easily. Tall, blue, covered in armor and fur, and Scarabin by nature. She gulped visibly, and her breathe quickened while the adrenaline rushed through her veins. Would this end in another fight she'd have to run from? She had only just escaped her last encounter the day before, her body was not yet recovered, and it probably showed it as she lay there with terrified eyes.

Now, at the same time that the female dromos was cowering away and attempting to keep free of fights, the admittedly blue, and brackish grey giant of a Meddian had been thinking. Not too hard considering the size of his cranium and the thickness of his brow. It was on fighting really, he'd noticed few men would dare even approach him save to attempt to steal, or to harm him- and with the name he'd made for himself in just a few short days? He was insured no one wished to fight him after what he'd done to six men who attacked him at once. He still bore a deep wound along his shoulder- though it was only a scratch upon his flesh in reality. His thick plated body being far, far more than just for show- his strength, his unaccountable speed, and endurance surely were hallmarks of a fantastic mate. That would be if he wanted to settle and spread his genetic code around like some slovenly whore.

No, instead he brushed off the assaults of the 'women of the night' and simply thought on other things.

Food.

Women.

Literature...

A good song, it was all things he enjoyed- he didn't enjoy worrying about dying because some whore was unsatisfied with him, or because some male had rolled him over and taken his coin. Prefferably he would be in a Hotel, far, far away from the bustle- with a good woman and fine ale.

Yes, those would be pe- OOF!

Well, as he was run into- the massive male simply blinks a bit, his titanic arms crossing over his chest as he looks down- a punitive raise of his mighty brow causing him to loose his stern appearance almost instantly. Instead of rage there is laughter! He was delighted to have met a Dromos smaller than he was and, without seeming to be angry, of which he wasn't. He offers a rather large, calloused hand out- attached to a forearm as thick as her claw arm's own... and further up another bit of musculature dotted with blue and brackish coloration. The Scarabin was still chuckling, that large, formerly intimidating beard the mark of a jovial, if large, man. "Ah! Come, come- do not be afraid of me child I am not going to bite; unless you ask of course.", the loud click and the guffawing laughter was a hallmark of a true warrior.

After all, with how much strife and death he'd seen- why would he be mad about a small accident in some backwater town, "By all means, are you alright? Anything but your pride injured I would hope not?", his voice, like thunder, his accent like a cloud; and he smelled- actually, rather decent, even if his musk was heady. It was always thus for Scarabin like him. Not a bad smell, but not too good...

Unless the lady or male liked that sort of thing...

The panicked feeling quickly stilled in her heart and the bile that had attempted to build up in her throat from such quick terror subsided as she heard the scarabin's, rather friendly tone and offer for assistance. Really she didn't need the help, but to be polite in return, she took the hand and allowed him to heft her up. Not that she weighed a whole lot for someone her size, that is. She was not fat. That thought made her bristle a little but she calmed instantly, steadying herself in front of the male. Though, a thing that continued to have her on edge was a single word.

"Child?" she snorted, crossing her smaller pair of arms haughtily. If it was on thing she did not like, it was being called a child. Yes, she was blatantly smaller than this massive meddian, but she was by no means small or weak! Just.. currently impaired.

"I apologize for.. ah, bumping into you. It seems my thoughts have been clouding my sight this night." she mumbled, keeping an eye out at the watching civilians. She'd been worried about the fight she ran from, actually. She'd gotten the feeling that the male wasn't done with her yet. She shook off the feeling of foreboding and looked up at her conversant.

He was tall, like she'd first noticed, and although at first sight intimidating and scar-ridden, he did not seem all that bad a person. Especially when one stood and looked upon him, instead of from on the ground with a warped perspective and a dreary shadow cast over you.

Her gaze drifted to his shoulder to a recent wound he'd gotten. Odd, really. He seemed to strong-looking to allow himself a wound so obvious. The one who gave it to him must now either be in the ground, the hills, or the sky. All options seemed plausible. She wondered how stupid she'd looked, just sitting there on her rump half in the mud. Oh, mud!

Rather oddly, she turned herself about in all manner of disgust, wiping here and there to get the mud off her person. She was not an underground meddian! She hated the dirt! Mostly because she lived in a dirt hole as a child and...Well her past wasn't important at a time like this. Her observant however, was, and she froze on the spot as she looked up sheepishly at the warrior. She hoped he didn't ask for an explanation. She'd have to fib something up, and she wasn't a good liar. Her tail twitched slightly, flicking more mud off her back in an anxious desire to rid herself of the offending materials.

She probably looked like a loony.

"Ah, and you're female- I was wondering that. Let the goddess of the wind forgive me for knocking you to the ground.", at that he touched his forehead and smiled a little; "Ah, well- no harm done- we in Shard do not oppose such rigorous contact; but usually that's of a different sort.". Although she can see his calm, steely eyes aren't menacing, well, not in retrospect- though he again clenches her hand in his before giving it a short shake, "I am Stalgrats of the Northern Tribes-", and with that he relinquished her grip rather easily, "And it is a pleasure to meet a Dromos who isn't taller than I am, it is disconcerting to have to look up to anyone when you're my size.". That might be a bit of an understatement, but he was jovial about it.

"But, I do not care to pry too hard- but what were you running from?"

He had concern, but his eyes were not on how 'loony' she was acting- he too would be doing the same were he felled. His cold, steely eyes watch the crowds, his fingers reflexively clenching toward one of his weapons- those stark eyes taking a dangerous glint- even as he moves to allow some to pass; though, it's more a reaction- those passing find nothing odd about him.

However, he could see reactions from the crowds farther back- men slinking like sly JackleMonkies, cowardly in their motions; staying out of sight. His scarred lips curl into a stare of disgust as he watches and waits- he was a Scarabin, he was not fast as they were, nor as agile; but alas they were no hunters or rogues of any sort. Common thugs at best. His intuitive intellect working already on what he was going to do. He doesn't speak, instead- glaring rather pointedly at one of the men who'd begun to advance on her; he not even bothering to speak before the man was within striking distance. And when he was?

A movement faster than expected of the large man; and the rather thin- spindly creature was up off the ground and through the air; strength radiating like heat from the large male; even as he watched for more... Action.

He wasn't the sort to let a woman be sequestered. Even if she did look male. It wasn't his sort of way- especially not in 'pirate' areas like this. Blech!

Haddy stared. Blatantly, with her jaw dropped open. She hadn't even realized that her sense of dread was the feeling of being watched and followed. Stupid, stupid, stupid! How would she have protected Anmut in all of this if she couldn't even sense where her enemies were?! She let her thoughts drop as she looked up at the wriggling meddian the scarabin held - what was his name again? Oh, right, Stalgrats... of the northern tribes, apparently.

"Uh.. rather odd circumstances beside, I'd rather not release my name whilst these idiots are around. This would be one I'm running from.. but.. he's not the one really," she spared a glance around, for the one Stalgrats held was only a lackey, not the leader. "I don't see his leader around.. I don't like that..." she mumbled, claws rearing back tensely. She got a feeling that Stalgrats could, and most likely would, protect her if the same dromos came around, but her instincts told her to be wary and for once she listened. Her poise lowered to the ground and she crouched, much like a feline. Her eyes were pinpoints in the dark as paranoia consumed her thoughts in a feral domination of her senses. Her breathing slowed, and she really didn't notice anything going on around her, the kicking and flailing of the meddian in Stalgrats' grip, the passersby that gave her and him odd looks.

She heard a noise to her right, and turned to look down a black alleyway. She doubted Stalgrats could see into it - she was made for the night and she couldn't, not even with her faintly glowing body - faintly glowing body...

And quickly, just as oddly as she had perched down, had she jumped to her feet and into the air in one smooth movement as a large body that had once faintly glowed in the shadows attempted to pounce on her. She met her foe with claws, pincers, teeth and stinger. It was the Dromos male she'd run from, and she honestly didn't give a shit about his details.

She was focused on getting this bastard off of her in her animalistic frenzy that had given her a chance at a preemptive strike. She honestly felt like she was in a cat fight as they tossed and tumbled, and she was deafened to anything else going on around them. She received scratch after scratch and numerous bites, but she avoided the male's stinger for his poison would be stronger than hers, and her body would give out within moments. By avoiding his stings, she had to sacrifice her ability to sting him. He was larger than her, definitely, and she had a weary feeling she wouldn't get out of this fight with her life.

The wriggling 'worm' in his hands was thrown to the side as the sounds of combat were heard. He turned; his eyes almost wide in shock as- well, he just stared at what was happening. Now, mind you, the Dromos attacking the female was- well, large; comparitively, to the smaller woman. Though; really he was still a little shocked that such a boyish creature was actually female and it still confused him...

A little.

On how suddenly she seemed... Cuter.

At any rate the wriggling Meddean, a Locun of some sort... was tossed aside, almost dying simply from impact- the fall killed him as somehow he landed wrong... Broke his neck. Poor thing. But, now his attention was turned on the male. The rolling about and countering of stings was a bit hard to follow; considering his species were, normally, erbivores and rarely moved as fast as he did- he was unaccustomed to seeing such actions and quickness in other species. But, as that tail came down a last time; he lunged for it; taking the bulbous 'head'. His teeth gritting as the spiney hairs along the underside dug into his calloused hand- not piercing, but- yeah they hurt!

The look of shock would be- well, fairly obvious on the Dromos' face, and, as the massive warrior took a hold of the tail farther up? He pulled back with a titanic, 'HO!', pulling the male free with the ease a Bull Weevil would have wrecking a paddock! With such ease, the Dromos was thrown through the air; smacking against the pavement and being forced against the ground because of his tail. It made the Scarabin huff indignantly as he did so. Glaring down at the male with malice, "Care to fight a real man?", so dangerous and alluring was his voice.

And the Dromos had no choice...

The blur of the male dromos' tail as it had aimed for her stomach, where wounds still lay scabbed over delicately, was rather bluntly put, terrifying. She had thought her life would have ended then and there. And just as she'd scrunched her eyes tight to avoid seeing the blood splatter over the triumphant face of the male she'd, quite frankly, never even learned the name to, all weight was released off of her with a massive sound that she didn't quite register for a few moments. She was half curled into a ball on her back, another spike snapped off the same left arm that had the tip broken off another of the three spikes, a fresh cut under her black eye, and to top it off it looked like she'd just gotten out of a very rough session at a brothel, what with all the bites and scratches on her tan skin. Her tail throbbed dully, toxins temporarily spent. She blankly registered a scrape on the sac of her tail, under the stinger, and wondered if the male had gotten a strike on her after all.

She managed to look out in between her arms, wondering what in the underground had just saved her ass. Blood dribbled down the corner of her mouth as she gaped in awe, seeing Stalgrats staring down the male whose pose quite matched her own at the moment. Except that he was arching his back and groaning from something, and the sac of his stinger looked.. rather flattened. She flinched at that. There was an instinctual code in a fight with another dromos - you never directly attack their stinger in the attempt to tear it off or make it crippled. Why? Because it goddamned hurt is why! Seemed like Stalgrats didn't have that instinct.

Haddy didn't really feel sorry for the male. Not really. She tried to remember exactly why this dromos had a hell-bent grudge for her head. Oh that's right - she'd been walking out of a pub after eating some delicious meal, and accidentally got herself cornered by the dromos and his thugs.
'Now listen 'ere, little man...there aren't that many dromos around 'ere, on Grimm. Especially this port. This 'ere is my port, do you understand? Now, I don't like me any race but other dromos. So, when a little thing like you comes 'round, I'm not like to let you just meander on out of 'ere without comin' to me first for a bit of quality time. You see, I've already fathered 'round ten other dromos just by sticking 'round 'ere, from females an' males with latches alike. Now, it's 'bout to be eleven. 'Old 'im!' the male lectured with a final bark, grinning widely with abnormally large fangs.

Now, she wasn't going to just sit nicely for this. Of course, she attempted to fight them off, and actually killed one, critically impairing another one or two after him. Then the other dromos got a bit upset at how his men were faring, so he decided to get involved. Haddy knew she couldn't win, so, she'd ran away. Sure enough, since she was smaller, she escaped.

Who would've guessed he'd catch up to her? Huh, not her. She moaned a bit in pain as she rolled over, bile rising in her throat once more, and this time the assurance of a strong male voice could not calm the sensation, and she retched onto the mud, what little water and material had been in her gullet, anyways.

--

He groaned, pain overwhelming his senses as he landed square on his claws, the armor having landed oddly and only causing him worse pain rather than protecting him from the concrete he'd been tossed onto, just in front of a store. His stinger felt useless, pulsing with piercing pain. He forced an eye open to glare at the meddian that dare interfere with his fight. The littler dromos had almost received a sleeping-sting, on top of it! It infuriated him, but at the moment, pain was more prominent. He gave a reluctant grunt, rolling over and unsteadily standing, proudly looking an inch or two down upon the blue scarabin.
"Idiot, what in the mother's name are you doing?!" he groaned, clutching his side painfully. His claws flexed and opened anxiously.
"That fucking dromos is my prey, you aren't to interfere!" he continued haughtily, completely thinking he was right in his pursuit. He was simply passing on his bloodline, that was what his father before him told him to do, and thus he did it, on his honor. This scarabin was offending him just by interfering, and that wasn't a good mark. However, he had to be prepared that this warrior wasn't exactly honorable, so he crouched down some, relinquishing his hold on his side, and preparing once more for battle, if it come to him so unfavorably.

The scarabin simply spits to the side, before laughing uproariously, "And I should fear you Dromos? What fear I those who's very weapons are their weakness. Speak not of me getting out of your way.", he simply grinning cockily now. "I suggest you leave- I would hate to have to humiliate you further. After all, killing a man like you is far- far to easy a task for one such as I.", it would be at this point he stood his ground- he had no wish to end the poor, unworthy bastard's life. T'was not his way to do so- he was a Skald, a poet and singer of verse.

Not a murderous rampaging beast like some he knew. Although, upon the leather belt he wore- there were several knives, one easily as long as his thigh that- for all intents and purposes was a sword. He called it a 'Long Knife'. He simply holds himself in a superior position; his teeth bared in a grin- and his body was loose, not tense like the Dromos. He was an experianced warrior, he feared no... mere man.

"So, unless you wish to lose a fight against one of Shard's best warriors; I suggest you tuck your bruised pride between your legs... And run. Or I'll cut off your stinger, and tear out one of your eyes with it. Am I perfectly clear?", he spoke each word with a click of his jaw; the sound like wood upon wood.

Apparently the warrior knew very, very well what to do in situations like this. And, he seemed perfectly willing to fight for this boyish female. Odd that one such as he would- but then again. Perhaps he was the type who was good because he was Grey in Morality in a place of Black and Blacker...

Who knew. But certainly he was white knighting now!

Wiping her mouth of the foul material she's just hacked up, she stood on wobbly feet, staring back at the encounter happening between the other dromos, and Stalgrats. And suddenly, after a few words she couldn't hear because of a ringing and pounding in her eardrums, the dromos snarled, turned tail, and stalked off without so much as another glance to her. She blinked slowly, holding her stomach gently.
"What in the world did you say to make him so sour?" she muttered, tenderly touching her black eye. Man she would be sore in the morning. Wait, morning was in a few hours, maybe not even that much. Ouch. She gave out a low groan, hanging her head slightly and shaking it. She was beginning to feel woozy.

The last time she felt this weak was...Was when her father had finished raping her. She shook a little at the memories, and forced herself to try and think of something else - anything else! Holz, her dearest younger brother...that made her think of her father again. What her father had done to Holz, her mother - Oh mother! She choked silently on a sob and made herself stand tall, and start to walk forward, only to yelp with pain and fall back onto her knees because of a rather painful sensation in her right calf that stung at the impact of the ground. She glanced down and saw a massive bruise forming near her knee-plate. Just what she needed, a broken bone.

She looked up wearily at Stalgrats, wondering why the fates had given her this tormented string. She had no home, never did past her childhood, at least. She was a traveler by nature, and now it might be her downfall, for she had little coin, perhaps only enough for a room in a hotel and maybe a meal. She would not let herself depend on this warrior who, albeit just defended her, she just met. It was not what she wanted, what she had learned, nor what she tried to stand for in her masculine form. She stood strong, alone, and for others. She wasn't about to let a silly broken bone keep her out of the game.

Bracing herself once more, she stood heavily on her left leg, and keenly, used her tail as a substitute for her impaired limb. She hobbled over to the warrior, and gave him half a smile.

The warrior however smiled plainly, looking toward the stricken female with a quiet vote of sympathy- he instead smiling a little wider at her own smile; "I do not abide by a coward attacking you whilst we were speaking. It is rude and unseemly.", he seems less than pleased with what happened though. And, as he looked the small Dromos over he frowned mightly. It was odd watching facial plates move- but they did. And, well; he sighed before offering an arm.

"I believe I might be more useful to lean against?", the large Scarabin seems less than unfriendly, perhaps it was a trap? Although, considering all he did; likely it wasn't. He seems genuinely concerned!

And he was! After all he'd witnessed a woman attacked in a most cowardly way, nearly drugged and pulled off to be raped before his eyes. How do you think any man would feel. His teeth click together nervously as he keeps the arm out- he didn't know her story; he didn't understand Dromos all that well reguardless of how often he'd served with them under orders from his Commander. But, for all he knew they were proud- and he hoped she wouldn't shy away too much from him trying to at least be helpful. Of course... He just seemed to be a regularly nice person in a continent of bastards. Perhaps his size had something to do with it? How he held, acted, and was?

Or maybe all Shard Meddeans were just nice men? (ha)

She looked at the offered arm warily, sighed, and reluctantly took it. Support was a thing she was used to giving to others, not receiving. She'd given up on receiving any sort of support after her father turned her world upside-down. She'd been, well, pretty much alone since she ran away from home, leaving her brother behind, and her mother's corpse in the dirt of their once humble home...Then again, she hadn't let anyone, so afraid of being weak was she. Yet in this time of true weakness, was it really right of her to try and feel so high and mighty? No, not really.

She looked up at Stalgrats with a sorrowful expression.
"I'll have to thank you properly some other time, Stalgrats of the north, as I've not much on my person due to the fights I've gotten in since my travels here. I've won my fair share of those fights, but you can't be lucky every time." she chuckled half-heartedly. It was obvious she was tired and weary, as daytime slowly crept at the edges of the horizon. Her time of day was done, and her energy was spent.

"But, I'll have to ask of you another favor, as reluctant as I am to have to ask. I'll need help to a hotel.. any will do..I just need to get to a place to rest and maybe clean this crap out of my wounds." she mumbled, flinching as she experimentally put weight on her leg again. Nope, definitely wasn't going to work. Looks like she would have to accept the help - however begrudgingly.

The large warrior smiled a bit, he laughing heartily as he's used as a movable post. He chortling to himself, "I've seen that look many a time- I take it you're often the 'rock' to everyone's 'anchor' eh?". He knew well that feeling- as his own pride had done him a disservice several times thanks to his prudish and prideful mindset. That and he was a giant of a man in comparison with most species. But; he held her shoulders lightly, murmuring a bit, "Hm... Well- the closest is the one I am staying at; t'is called 'Fancy Nancy'- the proprietor was very pleased with me throwing some louts out.".

But, as he notes he's on the wrong side he just frowns more so- running his other fingers along his beard searchingly as he looked the wound itself over. Swelling was common with a break; but so was an odd angle.. Mhn, he'd require than Mosquito's Services.

Again.

But, he does offer a Jovial grin; helping her along ever so slowly as he did so. "Ah, I do believe I could regale you with a tale or two while we walk.", he wiggling his eyebrows a little in a fashion that was meant to be comical. "Perhaps tales of a sort I've heard in my travels around the world.", he licking his lips before thinking out loud, "But where should I start?", he musing to himself now as he nearly carried the Dromos. After all, she was a light, light thing.

She gave a dull smile in response to his comment about her being the rock to everyone else. Well, it was true. She had been the shoulder and protector for her younger brother, she had been there to rescue Anmut from Banshii's clutches, she'd done... so many things for the people she knew and loved. She remembered the time when She and Holz had been captured by a pair of parasitic female wasps...She gave an involuntary shudder. That was another instance of rape she'd encountered, but at least then she'd protected Holz from the same treatment.

"Like I said... Any will do." she replied softly as they trekked off, ever so slowly. She had no clue where this 'Fancy Nancy' was, nor, did she honestly care. Something that quirked her curiosity though was the coincidence of the closest hotel being the one this scarabin was staying at. Coincidence had not favored her well in the past, and likely wouldn't in the future either. Best to stay on her guard, no matter how kindly he seemed. Better safe than sorry.

She'd wound up nearly getting pregnant with a moth's baby one time. What was his name again.. Oh right, Chryso. She'd set herself up for that one alright.

She let her thoughts continue to dawdle off as she hobbled along with Stalgrats' aid.
"A tale, huh? I've heard, and then experienced my fair share. I could use another, if you'd so oblige me." she chuckles faintly, her head throbbing. Damn dromos had probably given her a minor concussion for all she knew. Along with all the other various kinks anyways. She winced as she accidentally let her leg drop to the ground, out of step with her larger companion by a little. She quickly lifted the leg higher, putting more effort into using her tail instead of her leg.

The warrior laughed, "Indeed, and you might wish to share sometime then. On the otherhand my stories aren't of my conquests, to do so would be bragging. Nay, I could tell you of the exploits of one of the few warriors perhaps you would know of. His name was Furl the Flowing- and... well, let's say it is bawdy.", at this point he launched into a most humorous song, where the refrain- apparently, was 'Yea wench give me more ale, lift yer tail oh so dandily' and, well- time passed and he continued to sing- but truth be told the songs themselves were often or not extremely silly.

And resulted in him expounding on any questions asked.

And finally his voice- heard in that throaty baritone, was amused, "... And that was the last time he was allowed to have a steed- a shame really seeing as he was the best rider amoungst us.",he frowned a bit, "Pity though, you screw just one goat and suddenly the Ur-Thane is up in arms about things.", at this point he looks up at the building, smiling brightly as he did so, "Ah, the Fancy Nancy- odd name for a Hotel; considering they don't have any Nancies.", the Scarabin bouncer at the door however looks upon the man apprehensively, before murmuring in the dusky, click ridden language of their species.

The reply- well, it caused the other, much larger, scarabin to nod; before starting off... Of course, when he came in, there was a loud, "Oh greeeeeeeeeetings noble traveler! I see you have a guest, and... Oh my... Uh- I apologize, should I-", the babbling, and obviously heavily faux voice of 'Nancy' himself- a rather... uh, flamboyantly colored spider with some of the most interesting body structure a man could posess of course had sauntered up toward them, greeting the Scarabin in such a warm, falsetto that the large man was obviously on edge.

"Nay, nay- I already sent for the Doctor; the one I can trust. I need no more help save perhaps food for later. And perhaps something cool to drink for this little Dromos; but, my room?"- well, thank god he was quick witted, and apparently not revealing her gender.

Odd that was, very odd indeed....

(Sorry about the lack of a post Kitta! D:)

Haddy found herself smiling every few moments with Stalgrats' odd tale of one of his comrades from battle...And found that her smile, despite the twinge it gave her black eye by moving her cheek-plate, remained plastered there during the entire story. She used to love having her mother tell her bed-time stories to get her and Holz to go to sleep. Her mother was the best story-teller, and Haddy still thought so, though Stalgrats was certainly becoming a close favorite. She was content with just listening, her mind vividly imagining the scenes playing out - minus the implied scene between his companion and a... goat.

She'd never really had any pets as a child. Closest thing might have been a little bird she'd fed every now and again. She lost her smile when they reached the hotel, so blatantly named the 'Fancy Nancy', for whatever reason, Haddy was currently unable to fathom. Oh how lucky she had been to be oblivious.

When Stalgrats talked very briefly with the other scarabin, she wondered what it was exactly that they said. She didn't know any other scarabins, really, and the ones she did could all speak typical meddian. When they walked through - her headache just about split her skull in two, hearing the high voice of the male. Her head reeled and she damn near felt like she would fall over, despite Stalgrats' steady, if a bit firm, hold. She somehow managed to block him out, but did in fact hear Stalgrats' request for his room. Wait - doctor? She could patch herself up just fine, thank you! She wasn't about to let someone poke and pry at her like she was some leaf-frog on a dissection table! All she needed was
"-something cool to drink for this little dromos.." she faintly registered hearing that, did she hear that? Yes, she did. That was all she needed... a little bit of water to clean out her wounds, maybe a little bit of cloth...Yes, that would do.

As the ache in her head dully throbbed away, she looked at Stalgrats warily. She truly hoped he was the decent warrior he seemed to be acting as.

The vikingr took leave as quickly as he could- he disliked 'Fancy Nancy' himself highly... And he had the room key because sadly- being big and tall and strong meant her could hide things easily. So, he produces a key with a knocking smile about halfway to his room- which was on the first floor... Rather expensive for anyone, but then again he'd said something about 'throwing louts out' right?

In truth he was genuinely concerned, the woman was obviously hurt- needed rest, and quite frankly would be needing a doctor- reguardless of her thoughts on the matter; though he knew only a few would not molest her if they were about- and the infamous Alchemist 'Mozko' was perhaps the most trustworthy man he'd met. Even if his labcoat, mask, and general easily annoyed manner caused the warrior frustration beyond frustration. Of course, he motions about the room- the two beds; the couch, and... what appeared to be a rather large Baboon Dog laying on the couch itself.

Of course, the dog looks up, yips happily and comes running; though, a few sharp words and it stops; cowers... And crawls to them on it's belly as the warrior grins, "Ah, my humble room- a treat while I am staying.", the man probably let the baboon dog sleep in the other bed. The damn thing was easily as long as she was tall, with tail and built like a racing Weevil. But, it was submitting on the floor and seemed to be such a darling little puppy dog...

With fangs the size of one of the large man's index fingers...

Haddy was too happy to be away from the high shrill voice of what had appeared to be the hotel owner, her head being in such a delicate stage as it was. Again she pondered her fortune with a silent chuckle - odd things tended to happen to her, now didn't they? She had most definitely had a busy day. She'd gotten into what could basically summed up as a bar fight and thus nearly raped, she'd run away only to heave up her recently eaten lunch in an alleyway from one of the thugs punching her in the gut, she'd gotten nothing else to eat that entire evening which resulted in a grumbly tummy that even now growled at her in her painful state with no pity, and then she'd damn near gotten killed on top of it a few hours later with no true recovery time. How is that for luck?

As Stalgrats opened the door to the room, she wasn't surprised at the quality, for he had mentioned doing the owner a favor, tossing some ruffians out and about. She immediately noticed the massive animal form that had been on the couch. When Stalgrats set the beast in it's place, she gave a tender smile, reaching out with one of her smaller arms to pet it gently. Despite the obvious physical ferocity of the animal, he didn't seem all that intimidating. At least not at the moment.

"Didn't take you as the type to have an animal at your side.." she chuckles softly.

"Ah? Well, normally such beasts are below me- but I don't mind something warm to lay against in the cold of the winters in my homeland.", he smiles as, well, the Baboon Dog is petted; snuffling and then licking the entire of the female Dromos' arm. He chuckling and ruffling the dog's head-fur with a low laugh that caused the dog to let loose a thunderous, if happy, barking whine. Of course he'd be following them as he lead her to one of the beds. The dog whining lowly before nuzzling her shin affectionately. The warrior just laughed.

"Ah, these animals are far, far too smart for their own good I tell you- I believe he is worried for you.", of course he shoos the dog away while assistng the young woman into a sitting position on the bed.

Of course he steps back once that is done, murmuring, "I apologize if I seemed out of place- but I called a doctor, or asked the man at the front to do so. Especially if it turns out you've a broken knee.", of course, by now her knee and part of her thigh were- swollen quite large. And plus, the baboon dog seemed to be sitting, head tilted, in worry. After all, the master never brought guests so hurt like this into his room before!

Something warm to lay against him, huh? She'd never be warm to lay against, unless she was fresh from a fight or other activity, that is. She was primarily cold-blooded despite her nocturnal nature. Her skin was chilly most of the time. A large baboon-dog was, it seemed, would be quite a good substitute for a mate to lay with on a cold night. The dog's tongue had smothered her entire arm - she didn't mind all that much, it was warm for a few moments at least before chilling to the open air. She allowed herself to be led and sat at one of the beds, wincing as she did so. All she wanted to do was lay down and sleep for a month...she likely would be able to do just that, too.
"Concerned for me, you say..." she paused when the dog continued to nuzzle her leg some, thankfully he was smart enough to avoid the rather prominent brown, purple, and black bruise just under her knee plates. "No kidding...I'd be concerned if it was someone else, too." she muttered with a dry sense of humor. Her head felt like it was spinning, and she had to close her eyes to stop the room from moving. She didn't normally rely on her hearing most of the time, but if it saved her nausea and hurling up nothing but air and spit again, she'd suffer. As Stalgrats commented on having called a doctor, she let out a quite audible groan.

"I mean no offense... but the only doctor I trust is myself.. or..one that lives far away from here. On Fellgrad. She took care of my brother's little lover on more than one occasion, and him too..." was the rather blunt response. She didn't need a doctor. She'd suffered worse, plus venom from two wasps on top of it, before. that was when she went to see a doctor. So, toss some poison in her purple blood and thwack her with a hammer in the spine, then she'd oblige to have a doctor see her. Quite possibly, the only way to have her submit is to hit her on the head or sedate her thoroughly. Whatever was preference. She tilted her head back with another, more subtle groan, this time of pain. Wearily, she laid herself back quite heavily onto the bed, legs dangling off the edge and all. She was too hazy in the head to care how child-like she was acting, or looked.

She Really. Didn't. Care.

Well, considering the fact he was from the north- warm blood was why his species was so abundant up there. So, even so- warmth from another body was nice... Well, usually, the sticky warmth after activity... was not always to be savored. But, he chuckles a little bit, "Oh, I'd be conscerned if it were I; you look all the part of a man who's been through hard times. If I didn't know for certain on certain feminine qualities...", he drops off when she- well, flat out refuses a doctor, he sighing to himself before muttering, "Schlok dol burr.", a curse but... He nods a little, "Mhn, I understand- I will speak to the man when he arrives. You may rest- there should be water soon enough."

Of course he was a bit weirded out by the refusal of a doctor, to be honest he'd never really had a bad experience with any of them; regardless of intent or how bad they were.. But, he does respect someone's wishes, for the most part. He just murmuring to himself as he goes to sit on the other bed, and starts to rummage about...

A quiet exclaimation of joy is heard, and then a gentle press against one of her usable hands, "Sack Mead, a personal favorite- plus; it should keep your mind off the pain and flush out the taste of vomit yes? And don't worry, it's mine- personal stock from the ship.", at least he shares right?

She smirked a little after she'd heard him say she looked the part of a man who' been through hard times. Man. Wasn't that the impression she'd always been striving for? Most men were not weak, just look at Stalgrats. There was no mistaking him for a weak being. Women... unless they were some sort of scarabin, most of the time were not strong. That included dromos. Sure, female dromos are typically light, agile and fast, built to dance in and out of combat to strike with ease at their foes, but still their males tower over them.

Because they were built to be strong.

Not like her.

Better than her.

She wanted to be better... to not be seen as a female who can fight her way out of a scrap if need be, but one who will fight to the death if she wants to do such a thing. Strength borne of want, not need. She warily opened her un-blackened eye when she heard Stalgrats' exclaim and felt him place something that was shaped oddly akin to a water-skin, but softer. She glanced at it as he told her what it was, and what it would do for her. She chuckled softly with a throaty sound to it from her laying so horizontally, and raised it up a bit in recognition to the warrior's adept ability to provide her with exactly what she felt she needed.

"Here's to the asshole who beat up my own," she toasted, grinning a bit as she managed to sit herself up some, taking a short, but rather hearty swig of the alcohol. She then flopped back down, capping the skin as she did so.

She lost track of how many times she repeated that, with each time the toast becoming sillier and sillier, ranging from 'To pink ladies who wear tights of blue!' all the way to 'And that ruler-king guy back on Pentra!'. She was not often drunk, but it seemed that her already deteriorated state provided that she went down rather quickly, and went down hard after she attempted a final swig. Instead of landing the liquid in her mouth, she wavered and fell back onto the bed, eyes closed, and limbs limp.

No wonder she didn't act like a lady.

Now, it was close to being night time again- Stalgrats, not being a nocturnal Meddean was not usually one to wake up so late. However, as he began to wake he felt a distinctly cool presense against his back... And, reaching around he groped about- and found; well... The wall. That was odd. A frown is met with a groan as he begins to sit back up- head spinning, and his mild hangover in full swing. He was thankful to not be as drunk as the she Dromos the night before. Of course he was thankful for that- but... Cold? It was now that he began to take in the room and how he was sleeping- and, to be honest? He was looking at the window upside down...

And most of his clothing includng his... pants... and... skivvies...

Oh dear. Of course, he muttered as he began to sit up- murmuring to himself as he did so. Hopefully the woman had woken up by now, and... unfortunately he was stiff as a damn bored with morning wood- and really he was right irked by it.

Now, on the other hand? His dog was nuzzling closer to the source of coolness- nudging between the cleft of her legs. Lapping at her thigh as it whined happily- enjoying the cuddling of it's rear end by something that wasn't his master. Of course, then again the baboon dog was an extremely intelligent predator; and had taken a liking to the female immediately and readily. Likely because of it's being stuck inside for several hours.

But, right now it was curled up with the Dromos and happily asleep... And- apparently she was using it's butt as a pillow... Or tail...

She was walking, just walking actually with no purpose, which was unlike normal. Usually she was walking with a purpose, and very quickly at that. Or she was running, whether it be to someplace or from, didn't matter. She was always on the movie unless she was sleeping.

So when she was just walking along a stream bed, a few little frogs, non-sentient insects and little creatures around her, something seemed off. The only other time life had been this peaceful to her was... in a dream. Oh by the Mother. Did she pass out on Stalgrats? Probably. Forcibly, she tried to make herself...Wake...

"...up..." she heard herself murmuring. And for a moment, she forgot where she was as she gave out a pained moan, arching her back in a psuedo-stretch. Her head was outright pounding, and her wounds throbbed dully. She tentatively laid pressure on her broken leg, and hissed loudly. With her eyes squinted, she took a look down, and her eyes shot open, well. Her un-bruised eye shot open. To what exactly? A Baboon dog's rump and tail under her horns. Near her knees was the dog's head, sleeping soundly while sucking on his tongue, nose wet and nudging her thighs coldly. Well, that really didn't bug her all that much. She was cold to the touch anyways. However, her back felt...warm. What?

Rather abruptly, She halfway rolled over due to the fact she, like most dromos, cannot see over their shoulders because of their armor and claws. Rolling over, she met the gaze of Stalgrats. Who...looked rather annoyed. But at what, she couldn't readily tell. However, she did notice that he was naked. Didn't she distinctly remember him wearing a large assortment of clothing items that went over each other in layers?

One question stuck in her mind.

How drunk had she gotten?

Now, Stalgrats was certainly surprised- you see, he'd been quite drunk as well. And in assumption of drunken dreams of somewhat attractive men, to his distaste, and fantasies about them; he seems to be staring at one right now... Save she's not, and quite frankly with how he's laying she cannot see his groin, nor his latche-less manhood standing proud and tall. However, hooooowever, she can see the scars on his legs and arms; deep, rutty, pits into his legs where spears had bitten, his arms equally shamed with thick, gouged where axes and polearms bit. But; most of all; she could see his unarmored chest.

His chest bore scars that were as long as her arm at least, and perhaps as thick; covered with more scars from lesser blows. The man was a walking patchwork of scar tissue, each one telling a story and the one upon the other telling another. Tales were woven on his very flesh.

And he was emberessed more about being aroused around her than anything. Tish-tosh, there had to be another reason for it.

But, he sighs and leans back, muttering to himself as he almost falls off the bed itself- having rolled over to do so. And, with a loud crash, it finally comes to pass that his erection is gone, and he? Well, he was on the ground, muttering dark swears that could peel the paint of a wall if it cared to hear.

The dog? Well, he was still asleep. And chasing some imaginary smerp in his dreams. Silly mutt...