Who

Tallel, Heidderick (NPC, played by Willimina)

What

One of Willimina's suitors confronts Tallel after she's seen leaving his yurt. At least nobody dies!

When

It is the morning of the seventeenth day of the sixth month of the second Turn of the 12th Pass.

Where

Caravan Grounds, Igen Weyr

OOC Date

 

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Caravan Grounds

Deep grooves in the hard packed earth criss-cross a large patch of denuded ground, bearing mute testament to the caravans that frequent this area. Despite the midden holes set back a ways from the main center of traffic, the air is sweet, redolent with the sagebrush that forms a loose perimeter around the flattened expanse. In what is as close to its center as the vague boundaries suggest, a stone ringed fire pit has been dug and surrounded with the odd log or two, ash overflowing from its darkly blackened core.


It had been some time since the prize of the fair had slipped out of Tallel's yurt and back to her wagon. So many eyes had been watching them that morning that one more set had gone unnoticed. Dressed in his finest frippery, Heidderick watches the yurt from the shadows. It is an odd thing for this strutting peacock to stay still for this long, but he wants to make sure that the healer knows Willimina is not his, that she belongs to Heidderick. So he lurks, and waits, watching for the youngster to emerge. Jealousy and envy curl in his stomach, festering as he remembers what had brought him here in the first place. He'd seen Tallel and Willa abscond to the yurt, had heard the results of the dance going on within, and it had angered him. His clan is closest to the main caravan; he is the son of his leader, so he should wed Willa and unite their clans.

Once Willimina left, Tallel took his time in doing a bit more sorting through his thoughts as he waited for water to boil. Then he'd had the miracle infusion that dissolved away the effects of his hangover and gone about using the remainder of the water to wash up with a bit. That done, his destination is still the baths…but he knows what leaving his yurt is going to mean. He may as well look the part of his rank right now, even if his first stop is outside the grounds. Loose, dark green pants are donned and secured with a black leather belt from which hangs a pair of knives. Black leather sandals protect his feet, while a silver silk sash is tied about his waist. A black vest with scrollwork over the same two colors twining over the fabric is also donned, and then it's simply a matter of running fingers through his hair to make it lie cooperatively before he ducks outside. As expected, there are several eyes watching, and he looks about with a hard gaze, pinning those who are more familiar from among his own people as well as those of the clan he left. "Don't some of you have work to be tending to?" he asks of the other local Zingari. "Be about it, then!" To the others, another look is leveled. "If you've something to say, say it. Otherwise, go whisper at your campfires like everyone else. Don't sully this festival with a fight." Since that is undoubtedly what some of them probably want. And he moves forward, meaning to make his way through the camp to reach the baths as he intended.

Heidderick watches everyone scatter at their second's command and the rest head for the other Zingari encampments. Being from the same branch of the clan as Willa's head spy Dinsayde, Heidder is good at not being seen. He slides through the shadows and into Tallel's path, a mountain of a man with jealous rage written all over his bearded face. "You are not worthy of a Zingari leader," he booms in way of greeting. A blood vessel in his temple pulsates, angry and blue against tanned skin framed in midnight black hair. Shrewd, cold eyes examine Tallel with disdain. He crosses his muscular arms, trying to look foreboding. A short sword hangs from his side, the sheath old and worn, despite Heidder's fancy dress.

It's truly a wonder that a man as big as Heidderick can go without being seen. Tallel is caught a bit off guard when the bearded behemoth steps into his path, stepping back not out of fear, but because he just looms that much. Swallowing quietly, Tallel considers the man before him quietly for a moment, going so far as to walk around him a few steps, increasing the distance between them a fraction. He's been in scrapes before, but he prefers slipping away to the frustration of his opponent as much as he can. And it really just isn't his favorite thing, fighting. He's had to heal up the results of them far too often. He certainly doesn't want to practice it on himself, if he can help it. He pauses, folding his arms across his chest as he looks up at Heidder, smirking a little. "And I suppose she doesn't get a say in the matter," he says quietly, holding his ground.

"Willimina is mine! So no, she doesn't." Heidderick side steps, cutting Tallel's path off. "And you will not sully her again. Such a delicate desert flower needs a man to protect her, not a stick with a fancy knot. Willimina is practically Zingari royalty. My kin are closest to the hierarchy; it is our place to marry in to the main clan. If my wherry dung cousin hadn't screwed it all up, we'd already have ties. But where Abraham failed, I will succeed. If you are already promised, break it before avowing yourselves to the matriarch." He growls his words at Tallel, sneering down a long hooked nose like he's beneath him. Far, far, far beneath him! He almost snarls after, baring his teeth in a primitive threat.

Tallel's brows simply rise bit by bit as he listens to the rather impressive display of injured pride and anger before him, baring his own teeth in a grin counterpoint to those bared in a snarl as he continues standing with his arms still folded. His nonchalance is deceptive, however; his weight shifts gradually to the balls of his feet, his arms remain loose to drop to his knives if needed. There's one word in particular that summons up laughter from the dusky-skinned second, the sound harsh in spite of the mirth beneath it. "'Delicate?' Oh-ho, she's clearly not yours if you think that word belongs anywhere near her. You know her not one bit." His grin turns sharp. "She'd castrate you, I think. Before you even knew what had happened." Slow steps run a bit circular to the man again, opposite the direction Heidder had cut him off. "I'll be breaking nothing. Especially since it's fairly obvious to even the rest of the men here that, ah…" He stops, dropping his voice to a whisper. "She's never even been seen within arm's reach of you since you arrived."

Heidderick's lip keeps it's curl as he laughs deeply. "She could try, but such a delicate flower would break so easy in these hands." Heidderick makes a show of force with his fists. He shadows Tal's movements, hand moving to the pommel of his sword. "You will break it off if you've promised her something. I'm not giving you a choice stick man, she's mine. And I may not have been near her.. But neither has anyone else, but I will be. And then she'll be mine to do with as I please." What an idiotic fool.

"You'll never see the chance to 'break' anything," Tallel returns, his tone dangerously black for a moment. "Especially not her." He shakes his head sadly and tsks as Heidder makes his show of force, coming to a stop that places him across from the man, who is now stopped in front of a large basin of wastewater. It isn't much worth noticing, but it's there. "Such violence," he comments more lightly. "Don't you know we of the main clan have seen our fair share of that? We're quite tired of it, you know. Keep that up. See how long you'll last today." Odds are any guards nearby have fairly keen tabs on him now. "You seem awfully intent on believing we can't think for ourselves." Hands rise, pressing to his vested chest. "I still have my will, and my choice; you might not be giving me one, but I seem to have plenty to choose from!" A bright grin flashes - non-genuine, but easily managed. "So articulate! You truly are one of the most shining examples of a deadglow I've ever met." His hands drop, but he's no less at the ready. "I've run out of time for dealing with your like today. So sorry." And he moves away with confident steps, ready to change tack quickly if Heidder decides to play dirty.

Being the dumb bull he is, Heidderick moves to intercept Tallel again, sliding his sword from its sheath. He's mindless of the Zingari guards moving in from the sides as he zones in on the young second. He makes a move to sweep Tallel's legs, but as unaware as he is of the guards, he's more clueless to the fact that Willa had made it mandatory for her people to learn defense skills…

Tallel makes an easy hop to avoid that sweep, his knives suddenly appearing in his hands as he drops into a defensive crouch. At least he knows he has the advantage of speed! The Zingari guards, regardless of what they may make of what might be going on with Tal and Willa, know that defending their leaders is the priority and so move to close in. Tallel holds up a hand for them to wait, content enough to prove his mettle rather than take the easier path, if it will prove something to the idiot in front of him. Heidder is already going to be ousted from the camp for pulling a blade on the Zingari second, so no matter what happens, that is that. Whether or not he'll take a clue from the fact that there are so many guards around him and drop his weapon is the question. If he doesn't and moves further on Tal instead…well. We'll just have to see what happens!

Heidder grimaces as Tallel deftly avoids his sweeping leg. He grunts unhappily and takes a stance as the glint from twin knives catches his attention, and he laughs, not intimidated. The big man finally notices the guards, but he's gone this far; to back down now would make him look weak. "What do you plan to do with those toothpicks?" he growls before lurching into a clumsy downward sweep, aimed at Tallel's right shoulder where it meets his neck.

As that heavy-handed sweep of blade angles down at him, Tallel deftly rolls forward beneath it, the knife in his right hand slicing through the fabric of Heidderick's pants as he slides past. He hopes he might nick the bigger man's leg, but wound dealt or not, the Zingari second is on his feet behind Heidder in an instance, that same crouch assumed as he whistles lightly. He can do plenty with those 'toothpicks,' thank you. He probably just did more than the big man thought he'd get away with.

Heidderick whirls around, eyes darting to find where the stick man went. A slight bit of blood trickles down his leg, but he seems to make no note of it. He charges Tallel, swinging wildly, shoulder checking one guard who steps in to save Tallel. It throws off his momentum a bit, making him unstable.

Ah, so he did draw blood! A surge of triumph causes Tallel's lips to curl in a dangerous smile, the fact something he can certainly put to good use in terms of honor. The guard that is knocked aside yelps but is back on is feet in short order, looking none too pleased with either the rampaging suitor or Tallel for not letting him fully do his job just yet. As things stand now, Heidder is now wobbling toward that big basin of murky wastewater again, and the young second takes that moment to slide out of the way of the big man's charge, a foot lashing out to catch him squarely in the lower back and - hopefully - knock him headlong into the water. He doesn't want to guess where it came from or what's in it, but whatever it is, it'll be fitting. "First blood is mine!" he declares as Heidder flys past. "Either drop your blade and take yourself home to retain some honor, or be dragged out in complete disgrace. Your choice," he say, flipping his knives in his palms.

"AAAAHHHHHHHHHHHH!" Heidderick shouts as he charges Tallel. He doesn't even have time to register the shock of Tallel's quick movements before he is flying head first into sewage. The basin and Heidderick go tumbling across the grounds, amidst curses and yells of disgust. Somewhere in all this, he loses grip on his sword. He sits up once he's done rolling, pieces of the waste basin laying around him amidst the muck, and wipes the murk and waste from his face. Standing, he snarls at Tallel. He's too stupid and stubborn to give up. So, as soon as he's on his feet, he charges again, apparently intent on using his bare hands to dismantle Tallel. He comes, arms forward and reaching for Tal's neck.

Really? Heidderick can't possibly believe he still has anything to salvage after this. Doused in mucky water, his leg bleeding, his sword laying somewhere in the sand nearly under a wagon, he certainly doesn't look like he's worth much of what he boasted about at the start. He also apparently hasn't learned all this brute force swinging and barging around isn't going to earn him any sort of advantage over the much quicker and more patient Tallel, who simply rolls out of the way again when Heidder is within a little over arm's reach and lashes out with his leg against the back of the big man's knees to take out his support. Then he's up again and signaling the guards to close in. "No one's killing anyone today," he says, breathing a bit heavily. "You dishonor your clan by your stupidity." To the guards, "Throw him out." And Tallel waits, knives in one hand with his arms folded.

Heidderick doesn't have anything left to do but let the guards tke him away. He spits in Tallel's general direction as he walks by, earning himself a good cuff to the head for it from one of the guards. He grumbles as they drag him along, other members of his clan looking on in shame and disgust. By the looks of the pace the guards are putting up, he'll be gone within the candle mark. One of the one's watchign from the sidelines is Timotin, he slides away to report the disturbance to Willa, leaving as silently as he'd come to the situation.

Tallel gives a silent sigh of relief as he watches the guards haul Heidderick away, dodging most of the spit and easily swiping away what little bit does land on his forearm. Once Heidderick is out of sight, he drops his arms and sheathes his knives once again, then walks over to where the man's sword skittered away and pulls it from the dirt. He considers it for a moment, then ambles back the small distance to his yurt, setting the blade on a table within before coming back out and finally making his way toward the baths, adrenaline from the confrontation still keeping his mind swirling. Hopefully he carried himself off well in the eyes of his people, regardless of their thoughts…and well enough in the eyes of those visiting that anyone thinking like Heidderick will give attacking Tallel a second thought. Now for a soak.

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