Orathy wields a brutal battle axe with a wicked crescent blade.

Jeffeth has joined the General Standing Room.

Magpie called him out, and now Magpie is down at the pit of the Back Alley. It's where dark things go down, but it's also where the commoners do things their way and rules be damned. The Grayhope is smoking what is probably some Dust or Haze (or maybe both) while he strips off his nicer shirt and a few things he doesn't want to risk damaging in the fight. Bare-chested now, the man is looking himself over to make sure he didn't miss anything valuable. Around his neck hangs a chain with a magpie medallion on it that he keeps on and he has a silk bandana tying his curls back out of his face. He looks rather roguish, but also rather slim compared to Orathy's muscled bulk. "Alright! No armor! No *killing* each other. This is about settling a disagreement, right Culler?" He asks, turning now to look at the man intently.

2 Crimson Blades Sergeant, Erin, Crimson Blades Private, Jin, Cranky Crimson Blades Sergeant, Gale, The Mighty Pupper, 2 Crimson Blades Lieutenant arrive, following Violet.

Verity says, "A thousand silver on the Culler." as she sits next to Theodoric.

Verity has left the A Shadowy Back Table.

Verity has joined the A Shadowy Back Table.

Fortunato is perched in the high places, smoking a light cigarillo. Or, at least, he's pinned the cigarillo between his lips and it's issuing smoke. Once in a while, he gestures to nowhere with it. He's in his leather longcoat and his ragged yellow-feathered cap. Watching Magpie with mute interest.

An Unremarkable Associate arrives, delivering a message to Verity before departing.

Bashira figured that there was other fighting in this city besides the Champion fights and low and behold, here it was! The sailor heads in with her hood up and looks around. Definitely not a place she's been in before. She wanders in and takes up a spot where she can see the fight.

Folding his massive arms over his chest, Jeffeth walks the area closest to the pit, mostly glowering at Orathy.

Violet arrives and does her best to not be remarkable. The other Blades with her disperse to watch the fight. She makes her way towards Mae when she sees the woman, though she waves at Jeffeth.

The Culler did look theopposite to Magpie in that he was barrel chested, wide of shoulder, with a basher's physique. If he were somewhat decent, he might have made a good guardsmen or champion as someone recently said. He didn't come to the arena alone, leaving his valuables to the side as he also climbed out of silks and leathers, showing off the hair on his chest. The man itches at his gray speckled beard, looking very much like an old wolf ready to take on a younger rival. There's enough scars on him that show he's scrapped for most of his life and the imposing tattoo that marks from behind his left ear down his neck and curls over left shoulder and pectoral muscle. He glanced once to the sidelines where a particular Whisper might be, as he waltz over to grab up his red-bladed axe, "Reckon this be the only blade them inquisitors didn't fuckin steal..." he lifts the red steel axe, "But aye, no armor. Ain't wearin nothing but me shorts Grayhope-" because his pants were special and worth a lot of money. He settles in an armed stance, "Aye, no killin." He spits to the side, hearing the jeers, "Come on then Grayhope, come at me."

And standing right by Magpie, looking more than slightly put-out, is Mae. She's wrapped up in her dark cloak, hood up, clutching her rat-dog to her chest beneath the cloak... Scourge is surely still cold from having been outside. "If you break it, you owe me a new one," she's telling Magpie, who she's just given the worlds most ridiculous blade. She gives a soft sigh, then flashes a sweet smile. "Good luck, both of you. We're all counting on you," she says. And then she's climbing up into the seating, to find a Fortunato, and settle right down beside the man. "Hello, sweets," she says, before giving him a little peck on the cheek. Her attention turns back to Violet's approach. "Hey!"

An Unremarkable Associate arrives, delivering a message to Verity before departing.

River steps in with Orathy, quiet, ever observant with eyes that take in everything and try to sense the feeling of the place around him, studying body language. He's not your normal whisper it would seem, though he is dressed like one. Apparently he has other talents other than performing. When Orathy takes off his things he scoops them up and sets them along side before he watches stoicly, ringside.

Violet has joined the An Elevated Section.

Theodoric calls out from the shadows as the men in the ring prance with their frilly blades and start to strip down. "Will you two be needing the oil or are you going to get it done with?" it's followed by a loud belly laugh from the Ulbran.


Standing in the middle of the general standing area, Vandred reaches up a gloved finger to scratch behind his ear. He looks over towards the table as the first bet is made, before instantly raising shaking his head. Already, it's too rich for his gambling tastes, instead he looks back towards the fight and at Orathy's axe in particular. "Huh. This should be good."


A fight has broken out here. Use @spectate_combat to watch, or +fight to join.

Fortunato meets the cheek peck with his usual flat lack of response, but once she's settled, he does waggle his scrap of paper and smoke toward Mae. A touch. "Well," he says. "Give us a good fight."

Violet leans in to give Mae a hug. "Hey," She says warmly. Then she lowers her voice, saying something just to her. Then her eyes turn back to the fight and she leans in to watch with interest.


Familiar with none, friendly with less, Jacali stands somewhere nearby the most average man in the world. She's not entirely sure why she's come in honesty. Maybe she's hoping all these get togethers supply fresh meat pies. Just in case this is the truth of the matter, she has worn her coat with the extra large pockets.
She wears a tophat with a red band around it, the gravedigger's ace tucked in there, attentions shifting from one observer to the next. A brow quirks as Mae gives over that ridiculous blade, leaning toward Vandred as he speaks before lifting one shoulder in a dismissive half-shrug, "Someone oughta tell that big fellow it aren't polite to go hittin' ladies," Her chin lifts toward Magpie, pale eyes rolling toward her comrade as a slow smirk grows.

Magpie just sizes up Orathy, and the man must be a little high because really, the Culler is a damned bear. The Grayhope? Well, he's muscles, but it's muscle born of sailing, not slugging. He does have nice shoulders though, save for some ugly scarring from getting slashed up in the past. He glances down at his own pants when Orathy mentions his shorts. "Oh.. shit.. hmm.. well, whatever. I can get another pair made." Who knows what he's talking about, because his breeches are incredibly ordinary in appearance. He throws Mae a quick smile, "I've made it a long time now without having to replace a dagger." He looks back and walks to the middle of the ring. "Alright. First one that's out or yields, yeah? Let's go."

Arcadia checked composure + stealth at difficulty 15, rolling 11 higher.

River has rolled a critical success!
River checked perception + investigation at difficulty 15, rolling 51 higher.

Giving an upnod over to Violet as she enters, then is looking back to the fight, eyes going to Magpie. "Kick his ass, Magpie." Jeffeth rumbles out in a growl. The big man is pacing back and forth as the match starts, eyes following the action as he prowls.

Mae reaches on hand out to snatch away Fortunato's smoke. That was an offer, right? As she takes that, she leans into Violet's hug. "How are you, dear?" she asks, idly. Then, Violet's murmuring, so Mae's murmuring back, all while she keeps half an eye on the fight.

Bashira gives a look to Jeffeth and squints, "Are you going to fight as well, Sir Jeffeth?" she asks him with a bit of a teasing tone. She then smiles and gives a bit of a wave to the man before heading over to the general standing room area. She gives a nod to Vandred and the others that are around as well.

Fortunato is not a quick grabby type and he's fair focused on following the fight. Mae gets the cigarillo without so much as a blink from the artist.

Dressed down and in moderate-to-fine quality leathers and common cloth, the trim and hopefully unobtrusive figure of young Arcadia Leary slips into the Hollow, her face as still as a stone. She gives a gruff upnod to some passing ruffian that looks rather silly coming from her, and she sticks to the shadows, finding a place against the wall as she peers with an eager intent at the ring.

It's not long before Melody has wandered into the underground arena and somehow found herself a drink. A gentle curl of her lips was directed to the two at the shadowy back table before she slanted it towards those at the raised seating. A playful twirl followed, as if she were showing off her dress to someone over there, before she finally found a spot to stand near Jeffeth. "I should crawl up onto your shoulders so I get a better view," she teases the behemoth. "What excitement have I missed?"

Melody has joined the General Standing Room.

Bashira has joined the General Standing Room.

River keeps scanning the area though when Arcadia slips in his green eyes quickly lock on her, studying the woman for a moment before the whisper is back looking at the fight. eyes shift to Vandred briefly and then his companion but he keeps quiet save for a wince as the first blows start to land.


A soft scoff is offered in retort to the words Vandred speaks in hushed tones to her, but Jacali takes a moment to respond, her chin still lifted that she might look down her nose at the event unfolding. Finally, her head is given a shake and she leans toward Vandred to speak in low tones. She doesn't much pay attention to the goings on around her, evidently, not catching any wayward glances that're being fired about in this crowded stadium.

Orathy barely has attention for the spectators. He was called out and so he answered. He had put in the white journals previously that he welcomed all challengers to 'come at him' as it were. Magpie is the first. There's a sharpness in his eyes as he gauges the other's position and likelihood that the younger man was on haze. Well shit, Orathy is possibly drunk - guaranteed he had something to drink before this. He only growls once to confirm how long he's going to fight for, "Knock out Grayhope. Ya ain't no fuckin champion codlicker are ya?" Immediately it's clear that both these men have speed. They close into one another, moving quickly enough to dodge the other's weapon, not quickly enough to engage in return. Orathy rocks his chest back and lumbers to the side, ducking low and then coming back in. Fast movements, intention ill. There's no holding back. A weapon will cleave if it has to cleave. This is the Hollows. This is where Bloodsports are made from! He growls as he makes to kick at Magpie, getting the other man's attention with a lower thrust of his foot that spins him, catches some of Magpie's dagger, before he swings around with coiled momentum and takes a hack out of Magpie, a graze that will leave the other man showing they weren't messing around. Or at least the Culler wasn't.

Magpie isn't paying attention to anything else once the fight has started. The larger foe requires a lot of concentration from the scrappy sailor. He's mostly making guarded moves with a light jab here and a quick slash there, but it's not until Orathy closes the gap that things get 'interesting'. Orathy's axe cuts across exposed flesh, likely to add another scar to the ones already accumulated as bright red blood flows against tanned flesh, rapidly leaking down his side to soak into his pants. There's a sharp hiss from the Grayhope that covers a cry, and his joint he's been smoking falls from his mouth. He exhales the cloudy breath, then makes a fast swipe in return back at the Culler that's a smaller knick, but no -- he's not fooling around anymore.

Arcadia's eyes are as big as lantern lights, those pale blues unable to look away from the fight the second it starts. She's on the tips of her toes, entranced by the rising, unfolding violence. Without looking, her hand dips into her pouch, and she produces a small vial of haze and a glass pipe, which she packs agilely with her thumb. Again, she remains by herself, in the shadows, looking away only to borrow some fire from a wall-bracketed torch. Smoke rises from her lips, and she winces at the first drawn blood.

River checked composure at difficulty 15, rolling 1 higher.

Arcadia gets a small glass pipe from a pocketed belt of old leather.

River sees blow after blow fall, then as blood flies, he looks like he's going to be sick, holding back the urge to wretch though the former Thrall, apparently soft in nature, adopts a look of mild pity for both parties. He shakes his head, only to take a step back lest he get covered in any spray of blood. He is wearing silks after all.

Magpie's done these sorts of things high before, but never with such a personal element to them. And never with Orathy Culler. As he feels the heat of the blood running, the man shifts up from his defensive approach to something far more bold and reckless. Truly, it's wildly reckless. He lunges suddenly at Orathy with a fast slash, but the Culler is much much faster than one would think. Or at least than the sailor thought. The Culler brings those powerful muscles to bear and slams the head of the axe in a hard jab right into Magpie's chest, cracking a few ribs and scraping a mess across that exposed chest. The Grayhope staggers back, almost falling to the dirt, but manages to keep his feet, blue eyes narrowed in determination (or lunacy) as he takes shallow breaths and waits.

"Oh, geez!" Mae squeaks out, from that elevated bit of the arena.

Verity gives a polite clap from where she's sitting at the action of Orathy and Magpie. "Well done! Good show!"

Fortunato calls out from the elevated section, "Good courage, Magpie. Remember, though, you don't have to struggle 'til your head's lolling."

The Culler marches over to the Grayhope as the axe hammers the younger lankier man. There's a brutality about him as he sizes up Magpie, as if he was a man that could end the other with a flick of that axe, and surely he could. He's an old wolf not ready to give up his territory and this ring, this Hollow, made Orathy Culler. "Give yer friend a goodnight kiss fer me eh?" He taunts as he lifts his axe again, ready to end it. There's no honor here. This is not the Golden Hart or the Training Grounds of the Iron Guard, this is the madness and the blood sport of the Lowers. The savages of the streets were created here and Orathy is one of them, if one could see the look of deadly intent on his face. But then he pauses, to let Magpie get his breath, looking over toward the audience with a sneer, "Reckon we ought to do this more often down 'ere. People miss a real fight." He sniffs, turns his axe to be forward facing, then steps in to finish the job...

Magpie checked stamina, willpower + survival at difficulty 32, rolling 2 lower.

Magpie checked stamina, willpower + survival at difficulty 5, rolling 18 higher.

Magpie remains alive, but close to death.

Magpie is incapacitated and falls unconscious.

Bashira's hazel gaze goes to the blood when it's finally flying and there's a bit of a wince, welp, there is the fight ended. She gives a few claps to the two fighters, "Well fought!" the Thraxian calls.

River checked composure at difficulty 20, rolling 10 higher.

Bashira has left the General Standing Room.

"Sorry, gotta-..." Mae starts to say to Violet, but surely she can work the details out. Mae's up, on her feet, dropping Scourge (who gives a startled yelp, but seems to be just fine) and starting down into the ring. Is the fight even over yet? Mae doesn't rightly care.

The excitement that once filled Arcadia's eyes is now, instead, some confused mixture of utter shock and grave concern. Her pipe drops back down into her pouch, and she gives a slow, slow blink. Her fingers twitch uncomfortably by her side. "Dear gods..."

River starts to ready Orathy's possessions though he looks like he just might vomit all over them, his head shaking slowly, while he wipes at his brow. Still, he gives a brief nod at those around him before he moves off pressing back close to theedge of the pit.

Fortunato trails behind Mae, slower, watchful. Making sure the fight's well and truly done.

Magpie opens his mouth to say something, but his breath is caught by stabbing pain blooming through cracked ribs. He just grits his teeth instead and brings up the knife. He starts to duck low, going for what looks like a hamstring slash, but before he can even get near to the other man's legs there's the flat of that axe slamming hard into his head and throwing the Grayhope to the dirt like a limp doll where he ceases to move. One could feel bad for Magpie, but he did call Orathy out.

Bashira gives a look around, "Is there anyone that knows healing in the house?" she asks. Then as she sees Mae heading down she gives a look to the woman, she's never met her, but hey, it's safe to ask, "Do you know if there's a healer here Mistress?" she asks her.

5 inflicted and Orathy is unharmed.

Violet thumbs up to Mae as she scrambles down towards Magpie. She slowly gets up from her seat and makes her way down to where most of the others are gathered. "I'll send you a message. We should have lunch. The three of us," She says to Mae before turning to head out.

Jeffeth checked composure at difficulty 15, rolling 5 lower.

Orathy Beatdown 20 inflicted and Magpie is harmed for moderate damage.

Orathy Beatdown 20 inflicted and Magpie is harmed for moderate damage.

Theodoric is drinking some sort of red tinted beverage, he grimaces but doesn't celebrate or disparage the results of the bout. He speaks with a lanky man standing near him and a moment later the lamps are lit in what passes as 'The Medical Alcove' and help is offered to usher Magpie off the sand floor if his associates so wish.

Orathy Beatdown 20 inflicted and Magpie is harmed for moderate damage.

Orathy Beatdown 20 inflicted and Magpie is harmed for moderate damage.


"Might be better'n nothin', me, I might just well be. I'm a physician," Jacali announces after some hesitation, what with the amount of blood that might end up on her boots, gloves, or, you know, those high quality clothes of hers. She doesn't move, mind you. Surely there's others meant for that sort of thing.

Verity is overheard praising Magpie: Well fought, you lost really bad but taking that type of a beatdown and not dying shows incredible tenacity. You best be on the top of your game if you're wanting to take on a Grayhope.

Verity is overheard praising Orathy: The victor! It was a one-way wrecking ball of pain from the Culler and in the end, two men went in and one man was left standing. You best bring many friends if you're wanting to take on a Culler.

Violet has left the An Elevated Section.

2 Crimson Blades Sergeant, Erin, Crimson Blades Private, Jin, Cranky Crimson Blades Sergeant, Gale, The Mighty Pupper, 2 Crimson Blades Lieutenant leave, following Violet.

Orathy ensures his victim, I mean his opponent is down, before he turns his back and looks at the injury the Grayhope inflicted. "Reckon if that be poisoned, I be a dead fucker..." he observes to himself, probably to himself. He moves over toward where his things were and where River was, grabbing back his pants, "Who's got a damned drink?"

River hops the fence, barely keeping his silks in tact before he has to navigate about the blood that's already started to move for the drain, his eyes looking over Orathy for any wounds, his lips pursed. Quietly he holds out the man's trousers, then his shirt, though he looks to make sure the man's free of blood. Then he gives out and has to turn away and press a hand to his mouth and nose to keep from his stomach flipping over the smell of blood and the wounds.

Fortunato continues to watch from the sidelines, sharp-eyed and careful. No one looks about to die, though.

"I've got it!" Mae snaps at whoever dares get too close to Magpie. She's then helping the man up, best she can. "Can you walk?" she asks, quietly.

Arcadia also just sorta stares, mouth slightly agape, the girl looking mildly traumatized.

Keso, a totally legit assistant, Peanut, an oversized mastiff arrive, following Aleksei.

River has left the General Standing Room.

River has joined the The Shallow Arena Floor.

Magpie isn't just laying there for the sake of hiding his shame. When Mae gets to him she'll find the man unconcious, knocked out cold with a brutal welt forming and blood soaking into the bandana where the hard impact broke skin. On top of the other injuries of course.

Mae's not helping the man up because he's not rightly moving. "Can you walk?" she asks. Then blinks. "Oh, geez-..." and then Mae drops to her knees, and starts eyeing the man's face, pulling back his eyelids, all that. Meanwhile, Scourge just starts licking Magpie's hand. "If you lick his blood I swear to the Gods Above and Below that I will put you in a stew," she says, without looking up. Mae starts digging into her pack.

The big form of Jeffeth Bayweather is glowering at Orathy, everywhere he moves, Jeffeth shifts, his glare following the Culler.

Bashira gives a look to Jacali and was about to say something until Mae snaps at her and there's a look from the Shaman to her and she gives her a nod, "As you wish." she states and then gives a bit of a look to the unconscious man. "Do you need help carrying him? Jeffeth is good with with that. He carried Champions the other night." she admits. Though she looks to Jacali, "If you want to chance her." she tells the woman.

Orathy starts rumbling with laughter, at River. He claps the Whisper on the back, "Next time ya ain't havin to watch." He steps into his pants and starts doing up the buckle, with a glance back to the arena to ensure he didn't go too hard on the other man. He went hard enough, to be sure. He turns from the Whisper and looks up toward the audience, as if to see who was up there. His eyes land on Theodoric, giving the Ulbran a nod. Though it was the glare from Jeffeth that has him pivot and look at the other man, brow raised in silent question as if to ask, got a problem?

Fortunato rubs his forehead with thumb and forefinger. "Magpie will be all right, I imagine. Bravely done and all, bravely done." He sounds just the faintest bit cynical of the virtue. Just for today.

Aleksei enters on the quick pace of a man who possibly opened a letter recently alerting him to his friend's heroic idiocy. There's a sharpness to his step, and he's bereft of any of those white leathers that marked his office for so long. He's pulled out plain brown leathers that haven't seen the sun in years, in fact; the ones that he used to wear back he was a Lowers denizen himself. "Magpie, you fucking idiot!"

Jacali lifts her hands up, palms out in surrender, "Suit yerself, I aren't gettin' any closer, me. She looks the bitin' sort." She nods toward Mae, settling into an oddly militaristic 'at ease' as her offer of aid is so dismissed. Her attentions move back to Vandred, mouth opening to speak when Aleksei starts his hollering. "Don't hit him, Mister, he's busy dyin'!"

River checked charm + diplomacy at difficulty 15, rolling 23 higher.

"You'll have to yell a lot louder than that," Mae mutters, as Aleksei approaches, as she stares into Magpie's absent eyes. There's a slow shake of her head, then she's starting to dress wounds. Only then does she look aside, to Jacali and Bashira. "Oh, I'll make Jeffy carry him off if I need. But don't want to move him like this," she says. There's no bitiness! ... Not at this very moment. Never mind what was on display a minute ago.

River reaches out quickly when Orathy spots Jeffeth, saying, in a tone both equally neutral and also reasoning, "You've already had one fight for the moment, let's not borrow trouble I'd say. Ale, and clean off the blood so it doesn't stain." He falls silent then as he moves to step away from Orathy.

With the fight over, the perturbed Arcadia begins to slip her way out as quietly as she came, donning her finer silks and rings as she makes her way back northwards.

A messenger arrives, delivering a message to Melody before departing.

Jeffeth has so many problems. That is to say, he glares at Orathy and his gaze does not waver. He stands there for a long moment, just glowering. Only when he hears that familiar voice is his attention broken away, the big man flicking his gaze from Orathy over to Aleksei where his brows arch and he looks slightly confused. But when he remembers he's on the glaring job he quickly looks back to Orathy.

Orathy leans up against the railing, watching the concern for Magpie with a bit of a grimace on his face. River's remarks has him turning his gaze to River, grunting some agreement to find ale." There's some humor to him about the blood staining, not really what the Culler would worry about. "Supposin I need to go pass my regards to someone-" he nods up into the shadows, forgetting Jeffeth with a confident swagger off the arena floor.

Orathy has left the The Shallow Arena Floor.

Orathy has joined the A Shadowy Back Table.

River nods slowly then follows along behind though he keeps an eye on the knight, his breaths taken shallowly as he still looks a little rocked by the brutality. "If you say."

River has left the The Shallow Arena Floor.

River has joined the A Shadowy Back Table.

"I'm not gonna /hit him/," Aleksei says with a baffled tone to Jacali, glancing at her with a total lack of recognition. He strides forward to where Mae is patching up Magpie, crouching down next to them with a creased brow. "Fucking -- If I'd gotten the letter sooner I would have /told/ him not to do something stupid like this."

Fortunato turns a slow look at Orathy. It's curious, weighing, as if the artist were truly seeing the big Culler for the first time.

Magpie's breathing is a bit erratic, but it's the gash at his side that needs immediate attention or his injuries are going to go from ugly to fatal. Luckily, Mae's hand and the others that are helping will keep the foolish sailor from dying on the floor of the arena.

A messenger arrives, delivering a message to Melody before departing.

"Has telling Magpie to not do something stupid ever stopped Magpie from doing something stupid?" Mae asks, philosophically. She's got the head wound covered. Next, she's digging into her bag and pulling out a small jar. "Might wanna hold your nose," she says, to Aleksei. Because when the little jar is opened, the smell is /potent/. The sorta smell that'll jar someone back to consciousness. And it's put right in front of Magpie's nose. "Wakey, wakey, love..."

Orathy catches something thrown at him, what sounds like money! SILVER! Then the Culler is looking to join a particular table.

River slips in silently next to Orathy, before he gives a shallow dip of his head to Theodoric, his eyes studying the man briefly though intently. He Flags a server over from the bar and requests a tankard of Ale for the Culler, and for himself , he shakes his head.

Giving Jeffeth a long look, Melody finally gives the Knight a gentle pat on the arm. "I've got to get something fitted. Please don't do anything I wouldn't." Her nose creases at the irony of that statement before she gave him a bit of a side-hug squeeze. "See you around. If you need help," with what exactly, who knows, "... Send me a missive."

Melody has left the General Standing Room.


Jacali returns her hands to the surrendering motion, though instead of Mae it's now directed toward Aleksei, her brows high and the corners of her mouth tugged low in its own version of shrugging. "Oy, I was just bein' helpful, me, terribly so, I might add." She huffs out a breath, one that ends in a soft wheezing, "Rude." She declares evenly, her attentions momentarily sinking toward the sailor on the ground, keeping well away from those treating him. "As suspected, diddums, just as I thought, I did," She nods toward Vandred, "Not so welcome here, ey? Not so needed, us lot. Let's then away, aye? Afore they get the idea to start hittin' someone else.
She pauses, before adding: "I'm far too delicate, my face too fair." She snoots, flicking her hair over her shoulder and turning to retreat. Casually. She's not scared, she's just ... very urgently needed in a direction that leads away from this location.

Mae waves that potent jar under Magpie's nose and there's a moment until the man breathes in and rears away, his eyes flying open as he flails aimlessly to reflexively back away from the potent scent. "Auugh.. " He coughs, squeezing his eyes closed again groaning. "Fuuuck..."

Theodoric calls out to the group still fussing around Magpie. "You got that shit under control down there little girl?"

Aleksei recoils a bit from the scent of the jar Mae opens, head just pulling back a few inches, and then he's just glaring down at Magpie. "You fucking /idiot/," he immediately starts on as soon as he's awake. "By the time I got your dumb letter you were already getting pummeled!"

Bashira stands for a moment as she looks over Magpie and Mae and then gives a look to Aleksei who is there now. The Shaman missed something. She then looks back to Mae, "I hope he heals swiftly." she tells her. Then there's a look to Magpie when he shows signs of wakening and there's a smile, "Much better." she grins. Then the grin fades as Aleksei starts in on the man and she blinks at him.

Fortunato waits. He waits quietly, watchfully until Magpie stirs. He passes a nod toward Aleksei, or, at least, the back of Aleksei's head. He departs.

Fortunato has left the An Elevated Section.

Ugarte leaves, following Fortunato.

Vandredturns his head towards Jacali as she moves to leave. The man raises his shoulders in a soft shrug, before he adjuts his cloak cor some comfort. He nods once towards Jeffeths as he turns, and begins to follow after Jacali. A half-stale small meat pie is pulled out of his satchel, and he takes a large bite out of it, crunching the now sadly hardened piecrust as he walks after her. "Was fun. Maybe watch that again some time."

"You ugly, slimey snake of a man!" Mae calls over her shoulder. "It is well under control!" Huff. "Going to put some of this on all the collars of all his shirts," Mae mutters, as she puts away her little jar of smelly ointment. Thens he flashes a smile to Magpie. "You live yet, my love," she says, sweetly. "Was worried you might not wake up. Or that you might sleep through where I stab you with needles," she says. And yes, she's getting out her suture kid. Mae looks over her shoulder, at Bashira. "Could you, sweets, remind Sir Aleksei that screaming at wounded men isn't helpful?"