Tin-Tin : Disciplined, or Uncontrolled?

[leviticus]

Clad in simple robes with a flask in hand, Tin-Tin staggered through the streets of Baldur’s Gate. Her dark hair, often tangled, fell freely about her face, and her eyes most of the time were bloodshot with a clear haze of alcohol. Nevertheless the way she moved was mesmerizing, like as if she just had elevated the walk of a drunk to an art of unparalleled magnificence.

Tonight she found herself at one of the many inns where she leaned against the bar, drink in hand, watching the rabble of an earlier brawl around her. She was one of the few patrons left standing. She hadn’t even participated in the fight between a couple of adventurers and locals!

One might wonder what she was about. It’s unlikely however that she was like those adventurers, chasing glory or treasure. Nor did she seemed the type who was after answering the greater questions of life. Or perhaps even more elusive, seeking insight and revelation. It simply was hard to guess what she was telling herself when she turned over to the barkeep ordering yet another mug of ale.


“ ‘ey! Hey you there! Yeah you at the bar, little gal!” A gruff voice from across the room interrupted her alcoholic reverie. “You think you are better than us? Not helping one goddam’ hand here?” The large scarred man was one of the adventurers, and carried a sword bigger than Tin-Tin was.

He sneered as he watched her drink her mug and motioned with the tip of his weapon. “Bet you can’t even stand straight without falling over.”

“I really don’t like to stand straight anyways. I rather… flow.” Tin-Tin’s lips curved into a lazy, carefree smile as she took a long, exaggerated sip from her mug. “Flow, like beer…Mmm… beer.”

The man scoffed. “Flow huh? Let’s see how you flow when I kick your butt for not helping out.”

Metal glinted in the dim light, a signal for the bartender to duck under the counter.

What happened next was a blur. The man’s swing was swift, but Tin-Tin no longer was in the exact spot where she had been standing. Her movement may have appeared erratic, but also had been impossible to predict. She had moved like… liquid.

Tin-Tin stood next to the blade which sat now sunken in the wood of the tap. Stuck. She sighed and tipped her mug towards the man in a mock salute before she started to move away from him towards the door. Definitely not in a straight line… and likely never going to be.

At that point the tall adventurer managed to pull his sword out and lashed out at her.

Tin-Tin simply swayed and he missed. Again. This time however she spun around. And although it may have appeared like a drunk lashing out aimlessly, her fist somehow managed to connect with his head. Another second later a sword clattered to the floor.

While it took a moment for the man to register he just had been disarmed by a drunk girl, Tin-Tin swayed again, looking for all the world like she might collapse at any time now. Only she didn’t. She did however step forward and put her mug against the man’s lips. “Beer?” She asked.

“Uhh…?” The man kinda froze, his eyes wide with confusion.

Tin-Tin paid no mind to any spectators laughing with the situation. Instead her free hand shot forward, hitting him squarely on the side of his jaw. The sound of the impact was a solid thwack, and the troublemaker’s eyes glazed over before his body slumped down like a bag of potatoes.

At that point the inn’s door flew open and the Flaming Fist saw Tin-Tin right in the middle of things. The sergeant rose his beating stick at her. “You there! No sudden moves! You’re being arrested!”

What followed were the guards dragging her off through the rain.


Rumor has it right before she was taken she hiccupped strongly, and towards the unconscious patrons had offered an uncoordinated, half-hearted gesture with her hand against the side of her head saying : “Pleasure sharing drinks. Gods rest ye merry gentlemen.” What was remarkable was how said hand totally missed its mark, landing somewhere near her forehead, while she had offered such a well-aimed blow earlier. And when she was taken into custody her head had been tilted in a carefree, lopsided way, with a sloppy grin.

Later rumors and whispers described how she single-handedly had beaten up an entire band of adventurers. And how she had been outdrinking even dwarven miners near the tap. One source rumored her fists just had to be guided by one of the gods.

None however knew her true story. Which was hard to tell now that she was being put behind bars.

And that on her first day in town!

Hidden: show

[leviticus]

It’s not when you’re being put behind bars your troubles are over.

Tin-Tin wasn’t brought before any supervisor or officer, but went straight from the street into the city gaol. She slumped down on a pile of straw in what appeared a grim, forgotten corner of the prison. The way down here was vague, but she remembered this place was tucked beneath a series of stairs and mazelike corridors.

“Yep, you’re officially one of the city’s most unwanted now.” A mock voice in the cell next to hers said as her body hit the sack.

“Leave me alone...” She murmured, right before her head lolled to one side, eyes half-closed. And with a faint, careless grin tugging at the corners of her lips when she visualized that adventurer’s face the moment she had put her mug against his lips!


She passed out for a number of hours before she was being woken up harshly by the sound of a stein going over iron bars.

“Lunch time, if you want something you’re going to have to move your lazy butt!”

As the stein continued its path, it produced a rhythmic clink-clink-clink, the hollow sound bouncing sharply off the iron with each contact. Irritating like hell to her ears and brain as well.


The doors were opened and the inmates of this section were released. One of the guards motioned towards a corridor where a man slapped food on a wooden plate. Tin-Tin got in line like all the others, but when she finally had her plate and wanted to head back to her cell, a large arm against her chest stopped her. The ‘obstacle’ blocking her passage belonged to a massive half-orc.

“Your plate! Now!”

She looked up at him and sighed. “You gotta be kidding me...”

“No kidding, I want food. Give it! Now, tiny human!” His eyes turned red.

She narrowed hers. “Tiny human? Do you have any idea how many others before you called me like that? You want food huh? Go fetch a rat.” She waved him off with her free hand, rather sluggish and exaggerated.

He grabbed her by the throat. In a response to reduce the pressure she tucked her chin slightly. One hand swiftly gripped his wrist while her other hand formed a palm strike and was directed to one of his ribs, exploiting an opening. She twisted her torso, shifted her weight and managed to destabilize the half-orc. The balance in the chokehold was broken and she no longer sensed his grip. This was followed up by one strike delivered with surgical accuracy on his nose.

Meanwhile she had to drop her plate to the floor, but right before the half-orc went down she grabbed his from his hand.

Behind her one of the guards scolded her. “You there, cut that out and get back in your cell!”

She nodded once at the guard and murmured apologetic towards the inmates staring at her as she stepped over the half-orc towards her cell. “Sorry, it’s my first day on the job… Still gotta learn how catering works here…”

The other prisoners laughed but backed the hell away to let her pass.

Hidden: show

[leviticus]

She had been sitting in the corner of her cell, staring at the faint light creeping through the barred windows from above when the clank of the cell door rattling open made her shift her gaze.

“You there, little puncher. Yeah you. Pack your stuff, you are being released. Under conditions however.”

In walked this man, someone she vaguely recognized—a liaison of sorts for the city guard, or so he had claimed to others earlier.

She got up, brushing the dust off her clothes. “What conditions?”

“Just a little favor for the city guard. We could use someone like you, someone with a... particular set of skills.” His eyes gleamed knowingly, a little bit unsettling, but he continued. “You help us out, we wipe your slate clean.”

“So I’ll work for you?”

“Exactly. There is a small object that needs to be acquired from a private estate. Evidence in an ongoing investigation. It would look like a metal orb, no further specifics save that we think it be unusual heavy.”

Her instincts told her to ask more questions, but the man leaned in, his voice dropping low. “Decide fast. Unless you like to stay in here. We only got a brief window to settle this.”

She crossed her arms. “Heavy you said? Very well, I’ll bring a couple of drinks then.”

He furrowed a brow. “Eh, wh… hm... do as you please. As long as you know you’ll be on your own. More people would only draw much attention.” He rubbed his chin. “Yeah, it might be best that you go in drunk. It’ll only draw even less suspicion. See? We are already a fine team!”



The estate was quieter than she expected. Slipping in through a half-open window wasn’t easy, especially when somewhat under influence. But somehow her navigation skills got her up there. With her agility she was light enough on her feet when she entered the place. The orb was likely to be found in a hidden chamber, and it was only thanks to the floor plans that she could guess where to look.

Tense minutes of searching went by. On accident she stumbled into a small statue, under which a hidden lever was activated. A sliding door behind it opened and showed a small room with in the middle an metallic sphere resting on a velvet pedestal.

“Aha… there you are.” She took another long swig from her bottle. “Mm... that hit the mark. Okay. Lets see now how heavy you truly are.”

Her fingers wrapped around the orb and she lifted it from the pedestal. “Heavy indeed. But not too.” Then she frowned as she twisted the sphere over.

There was a metal click in the corridor behind her, and moments later the walls seemed to shiver. Armored boots! And lots of them!

“Crap… trap…” she muttered to herself.

It was however too late to act on it. The moment she stepped out of the secret room, all the torches ignited down the entire corridor.

The people entering the space were city guards. A full squad of them, swords drawn.

“Drop your weapons, miss!”

There was a single sharp clink of glass that struck the hard floor. It echoed down the narrow space, a hollow ring reverberating off the walls. As her nearly empty beer bottle rolled, it produced a low, hollow rumble, interspersed with soft tinks as it bounced off the uneven surface. As some of the guards watched the bottle, the sound persisted a few, stretching the silence, before gradually fading into a distant, eerie quiet.

“Eh.. right.” The officer turned his gaze back on her. “By order of the city, you’re under arrest for the theft of private property. Empty all your pockets and put the stuff in this bag.” He held a bag open to her.

She mumbled. “Guess I wasn’t on legitimate business.”

Her mind spun, mostly due the booze. But who had her employer been? It didn’t matter right now as she was back on her way to jail. Law dictated that she complied, and she wouldn’t fight the law.

After dropping the orb in the bag, she walked out a bit wobbly on her feet, her arms raised. “I also confess I’ve taken food from my inmates. Oh, and I forgot to pay my drinks at the inn after the first time I got arrested. And… tell the owner of this house I’ll compensate him for the statue. Think I may have broken one of the limbs by accident.” She spoke slow, slurring her words.

Then she swayed, staggered and lightly bumped into guard walking next to her who frowned and pushed her back.

Tin-Tin turned her head to look at the man with her half-open eyes. “I… think I need to throw up.”

Hidden: show

[leviticus]

“Oh no, not you again…” The half-orc she had punched some days ago shook his head.

But Tin-Tin had no choice. The clanging of iron bars echoed in the dimly lit jail cell as she started to pace back and forth. Back at where she started between dark walls.

The half-orc in the corner, nursing his still-tender nose, casted wary glances her way. All the short young woman did however was mumbling to herself before eventually laying down.

Not long after she had closed her eyes, her prison door swung open once more, waking her up.

“You and you.” A hooded figure flanked by two bodyguards beckoned. “You get another shot elsewhere.”

Tin-Tin rolled her eyes. “Oh no, not again. I’m staying right where I am.”

The hooded figure hissed. “Suit yourself. If you think they’ll ever gonna release you without the proper… payoff, think again. I’m offering you a chance to earn some nice coin.”

She sighed. “You people have such weird laws here. But somehow it makes sense, work for your own release. Is it something like community work?”

“Eh… sure, something like community work. Now, this way and stay the hell shut. Unless you want to wake up others who also want a favor.”

“Little missy. You aren’t buying this guy’s crap, are ya?” The half-orc whispered to her as they were led down a stairs and through twisted underground alleys.

She lifted her shoulder. “I don’t know. I am curious where they take us however, and I’m anxious for a drink.”

The half-orc snorted.


A noise in the distance drew her attention, something like a muffled, rhythmic thumping of feet hitting the floor, echoing off the walls of the narrow corridors. Upon approaching something that looked like a gate, the booming grew louder, blending with the sounds of a... crowd. Cheers, shouts, and laughter spilled out into the hallway. When walking through the entrance, she couldn’t believe it.

The scent of sweat and anticipation filled the air as they arrived at something that appeared like an… underground arena. The metallic clang of weapons punctuated the air, and amidst this there was an undercurrent of murmured conversations as spectators speculated about the final of an ongoing duel. A pair of musicians saw to a steady beat of drums, keeping the energy high as the competitors lashed out at each other..

She understood immediately what was going to expected of them and nudged her escort who had brought them to the side. “Where’s the nearest drink?”

“Drink? You only get something when you worked.” He said, in a snide tone.

“Hey, I followed you here, that’s the least you can do. Give me…” She glanced at the half-orc. “Give us a beer, now!”

Her escort growled but motioned at one of his bodyguards to fetch them two ales. The bodyguard returned just as the fight at the pit ended with a loud cheer. She couldn’t make up any details though as she was too short.

However, when the half-orc wanted to drink from the beer thrusted into his hands, she stole it from him and ended up ‘wielding’ two steins.

“Hey!” He objected.

She narrowed her eyes. “What…? You didn’t ask for a drink, right?”

He grumbled but stood down, rubbing his nose as if a reminder.

“Thought so.” She tilted the first drink back, savoring the warmth of the alcohol as it coursed through her, filling her with a familiar buzz that dulled her anxieties. With the other drink in hand, she turned to face the crowd as they suddenly started calling her out.

Unknown faces peered out from the shadows, some jeering, others cheering. “Drunk monk, drunk monk, drunk monk!!!”

“Huh, what the… how these people know me… w… whoa!”

A push from behind sent her towards the makeshift fighting pit. Her movements were chaotic. She stumbled, nearly seemed to fall, recovered somewhat, bumped into a grotesk figure who happened to be her opponent, and then, with unexpected grace, regained her balance. Some beer was spilled upon an enormous wrist however…

Laughter erupted from the crowd. The half-orc, watching from the sidelines, couldn’t help shaking his head, bemused by her antics.

When Tin-Tin stared up she noticed her opponent was a surly ogre. Muscles rippled beneath his worn clothes. Just in time she saw his fist was up, ready to smack down on her. With a drunken lurch, she sidestepped and sent her elbow crashing into his ribs. The sound of flesh meeting flesh resonated in the pit, followed by a collective gasp from the crowd.

“Hah, that all you got?” She slurred, a mischievous grin spreading across her face.

“I was to ask you same thing, dumb little human.” The ogre wiped off his belly as if removing some dust particles.

She narrowly avoided his next blow, only to retaliate with a wild, unpredictable strike of her own at his lower parts. That gave her a small window of opportunity to empty her second drink while holding up a single finger at the ogre. She stood with her feet planted but unsteady, shifting slightly as if she was on a ship.

When he came down at her she retreated with the most erratic footwork, stumbling slightly, and then quickly regained her balance with a playful twirl or a half-step back. As if the alcohol fueled her eccentric movements.

Whatever it was, it was much needed. The ogre raged and charged at the short woman. Tin-Tin leaned into one side, then the other, and the ogre rushed past her. She on the other hand kicked out a single leg. And then her own strike came at an odd angle-like, a wild swing that seemed almost too clumsy to connect. But it landed directly on the ogre’s neck, right behind his ear. With a loud crash he went down. The crowd went insane.

It was clear the blow affected the monstrous fighter as it took some time to get back on his feet.
When he turned over she just stood there taunting him with the mock imitation of a boxer. “Uh, ah, c’mon then, I’m so so scared… Show me what you got!” She called him out.

The ogre stared at her and at the way how her arms moved in sweeping arcs, almost as if she was conducting an orchestra rather than a fight.

When he thought he noticed her dropping her guard, he charged again, only this time making sure he’d bury her under his large body.

She widened her eyes and suddenly realized the stakes were much higher than she initially thought. This monstrous guy was trying to kill her or what? All of a sudden she backflipped away, dodging her fierce opponent. She landed standing on the low arena enclosure, arms spread out, balancing and swaying as if she might topple over.

Just at that moment the ogre crashed into said enclosure below her feet and she was forced to jump up, only to land on her opponent’s back. Who happened to be unconscious after the crash.

“Winner!!!!” The ringmaster cried out.

The crowd cheered but her victory and the spoils were only short-lived.

An alarm of sorts was raised and people were shouting. “Guards! The guards are coming!!”

While the audience disappeared like rats in sewer pipes and drains, Tin-Tin rolled her eyes as a squad of city guards entered the ring and saw her standing on the back of her opponent.

She looked at the officer staring at her. Lifting her stein she said: “What…? I merely work here.”

Hidden: show

Real version : https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=FBlkR4Pgipw

[leviticus]

“You could also look at it this way. Right now we have move company than before.” The half-orc mused.

The heavy clank of iron against iron as the jail door shut hit her ears with a dull familiarity. Pretty much like an old, drunken shanty she heard too many times. The grating screech of the bars dragging against their rusty hinges however seemed to stretch on for an eternity.

She let out a sigh of resignation as she dropped on her rear and glanced up at the faces who had joined them in their cell. A few of the spectators who didn’t got out in time either.

“Don’t worry.” She said to them. “They take real good care of us in here. There is even catering.”

In the distance echoed one final metallic impact before it everything went silent.

“You know…” the half-orc started.

“Shut… up… shut the hell up. I’m thinking.” She snarled.

The large male ducked his head, holding his hands up in an soundless okay okay.

After a while she broke the silence. “I know I’m not exactly the big picture girl, but doesn’t this strike you as a tad odd?”

The half-orc lifted his chin a bit. “You want me to answer? Or you going to throw yourself at me?”

She rested her elbows on her knees, head hanging low as she sighed. “We’re herded in here, dragged to a fight, then chucked back in like it’s all part of some big joke. Same with my previous event.”

“Ah, the robbery.” He recalled.

“Hey, I wasn’t stealing. I was trying to attain evidence against a criminal. Or, at least that is what I thought I was doing.”

He rubbed his chin. “You thought. Hmm… is there any chance that what you drink clouds your judgement?”

She nearly flared but for some reason reduced her fire quickly again. “You don’t know anything of me.”

The half-orc furrowed a brow, leaning back against the stone wall. “You’re right. And I myself I don’t know much either. But I do know one thing—people like us? We’re always in the middle of someone else’s game.”

She stared at the ceiling, tracing the cracks in the stone as if searching for answers. “So what do we do? Wait for the next round of whatever this is?”

The half-orc grunted. “Well, you’re the one who seems to get ‘opportunities’ thrown your way like as if being a magnet. Who knows what will be next that is taking you out of this box. I’d suggest you escape then. As for myself…” He shook his head a little bit.

With a flicker of interest she peeked over at him. “Why? What did you do?”

He motioned at his face. “You noticed this too, right? That is always the first reason to arrest someone. Even if they are innocent. This time at least.”

“So, let me get this straight. You did something wrong in the past, and now they just assumed you did it again?”

He nodded vaguely. “Something like that.”

She growled softly. “Well that is unacceptable! There is something like evidence, witnesses, alibis…”

“And racism.” He added.

“Well, I tell you what.” She said combative. “Next time I get another ‘opportunity’ for whatever ‘job’, I’ll make sure they have to bring you.”

The half-orc offered her a skeptical look, one brow raised as he leaned his massive frame back against the wall. “You think they’ll ever give you a choice?”

She shrugged. “They owe me after all the previous favors. Whoever the hell they are.”

He folded his arms. “And how did that work out for you so far?”

She opened her mouth to snap back, but the sound of approaching footsteps made her pause.

The clinking of keys and murmured voices echoed through the cellblock. A small group of guards rounded the corner, their expressions hidden beneath shadowed helmets. Behind them, a figure Tin-Tin hadn’t seen before—a very small, slender man dressed in dark robes, his face mostly obscured by a hood. Was that an elf? Or a tall halfling?

By the time they arrived at her cell, Tin-Tin had already stuck her hands out in mock surrender. The guards looked confused at each other before cuffing the girl and escorting her out.

The half-orc called after her. “Remember! Someone else’s game!”

Sure, not my game, but no one tells me I can’t change some rules, she thought to herself.



The guards were unusually quiet, and the robed figure’s presence was unsettling. They took her out through the front door at least and into something that looked like an office of the Flaming Fist.

The cuffs were attached to an interrogation table and she was pushed down to sit on a cutty-stool.

“This is all really inconvenient.” The short man walking to the other side of the table said as the guards left and closed the door behind them.

Tin-Tin raised an eyebrow at the man, who was now pacing behind the table. “Inconvenient for who? I’m having a great time here.” She said as she demonstrated the cuffs on her wrists.

The man stopped, his gaze sharp as he regarded her with a mixture of irritation and amusement. “This isn’t a joke, girl. You’re in a very precarious position. The higher-ups don’t take kindly to… complications.”

She laughed. “You don’t even know what complicated is even if it punched ya right on the nose!”

“But I do know you do. You have a knack for stumbling into trouble, and right now, thanks to that they’re watching closely.” He retaliated.

She crossed her arms. “Good, that means I’m no longer a pawn of anyone’s game anymore. More a wildcard. And who are you?” She leaned towards the table. “The joker?”

He leaned in as well, his voice lowering. “Right now? I am your only way out of this.”

“And something tells me, I am your only way out too. Out of whatever this is.”

He didn’t comment on that. “There is an opportunity here. One that saves you jail time. Interested?”

“I’m not this naive. But do I have a choice?” Her chains rattled. “What do you want?”

“What I want is quite easy. I want you silent and I want you to sign this.” He reached over a document which she quickly scanned.

“In return for not saying a word, I go free? And what if I don’t?”

“Your head on a chopping block.” The man waved his hand dismissively.

“Alright… First I’d like to fresh up. And then… uhhmm… Wait. Do I have to punch you and make this look like an escape, or what?”

The short man rolled his eyes.

Hidden: show

[leviticus]

“I don’t know how you did it,” The half-orc muttered, rubbing his wrists where the handcuffs had gnawed into his skin, raw and irritated from months of confinement. The dim light of the lower city streets gave his greenish skin a sallow hue, matching the gloom of the alleyways they now walked.

Tin-Tin didn’t look at him, her eyes scanning the fading twilight as they descended deeper into the labyrinthine city. “Doesn’t matter. I promised.”

He gave a grunt, flexing his fingers as if testing newfound freedom. “Feels strange to be free again. Think I’ll be leaving this place though.”

She arched a brow, finally glancing over. “And why would you do that?”

He returned her look with one of those skeptical expressions she had seen before, one that said she already knew the answer.

Tin-Tin paused, the murmur of the crowded streets fading behind them as they stood on the cusp of the lower city. “You have every right to be here. As long as you respect those who uphold the law, and take into account the local norms and values...” She smiled, but there was something sharp behind it. “There’s little reason to target you.”

The half-orc smirked, but it quickly faltered as a guardsmen patrol appeared from a side street. The leader of the group spotted them lingering near the mouth of an alley, suspicion sharpening in his eyes.

“You there! Hold it right there! Identify yourselves!” The guardsman’s voice cut through the narrow space like a blade, commanding immediate attention.

Tin-Tin raised her hands in a placating gesture, stepping forward with a practiced, easygoing smile. “Oh, sorry. I didn’t see you there. My na—”

“Not you, little lady. Him!” The guard’s eyes locked onto the half-orc, his hand resting on the pommel of his sword.

The large male rolled his eyes, casting Tin-Tin a look that silently said ‘I told you so.’

The guardsman took a step closer, his gaze narrowing at the half-orc. “Did you wish to say something to me, tuf boi? You mocking me?”

The half-orc straightened, uncrossing his arms with deliberate slowness, his voice a low growl. “My name, and you’re the first guardsman who actually cares, is Regdar Bronze Fang.”

The guard blinked, his grip on his sword tightening for a heartbeat before he hesitated, glancing back at his fellow guards for a read. “Uh… if you’re messing with me...”

“I’m not,” Regdar said flatly, crossing his arms again.

A long moment of tension passed before the guard grudgingly stepped back. “Hm, very well. Carry on, and… enjoy the city.” His tone dripped with disbelief as he signaled for his men to move along.

As the patrol faded into the distance, Tin-Tin snickered under her breath, catching Regdar’s eye. He frowned.

“Hmrrrmm? What?”

She grinned, eyes glinting with mischief. “You’re a streetfighter. I heard about you. And by the sounds of it, you’ve got quite a temper. Beaten up an entire—”

“Shut up!” He growled, cutting her off. “And besides, I was in a bad mood.”

“Uh-huh,” Tin-Tin teased following him into the alley, her step light. “Aren’t you always?”

Regdar shot her a sideways glance, his lips curling into the barest hint of a smile before it vanished again. “You know, I can still kick your butt.”

Tin-Tin raised an eyebrow, smirking. “So, when I punched you on the nose and got under your skin, you were holding back? Or…?”

He stopped near a weathered fountain, staring at the rippling reflection of his face in the water, his voice suddenly quieter. “No. I just thought I saw something familiar in you.”

“Familiar?”

“Mhh, you reminded me of myself in various ways.” He grunted.

“Eh? Like how?”

“Like how I once like yourself were idealistic.”

Tin-Tin snorted, folding her arms across her chest. "Idealistic? You think I'm some wide-eyed do-gooder?" Her tone carried a mix of amusement and challenge, but there was curiosity behind her eyes.

Regdar didn’t turn to face her. “"Maybe not. But you're still playing by rules, even if they're not your own."

Tin-Tin frowned at that, the corners of her lips twitching downwards. She stepped closer to the fountain, her reflection joining his. "Rules are lines in the sand. I know they change depending on who’s holding the stick, and… and…"

He met her gaze in the water’s reflection. "And that’s why I’m getting out of this place. It’s not for me anymore. You may still see those lines clearly, but this city... it blurs them, twists them until you don’t know what you’re following anymore."

“So you are running away from the big bad city?”

Regdar’s expression hardened, his jaw setting. “No. I’m leaving because this city doesn't forget. People like me—like us—we don’t get second chances, not really. We’re always one wrong look or one bad move away from the gallows.”

Tin-Tin shrugged, as if dismissing the weight of his words. "And you think some other place will be any better? What, you gonna go become a farmer somewhere and grow tomatoes now?"

He finally turned to face her, his eyes dark and serious. "No. But I can start somewhere new. Somewhere the lines aren’t already drawn for me."

She fell silent, watching him with a thoughtful expression, the remnants of her teasing smirk fading. Then, with a casualness that seemed to surprise him, she reached out and flicked his forehead lightly. “You’re a big idiot, you know that?”

The otherwise rather disciplined streetfighter blinked, taken off guard. “Huh?? Wha..?”

“Look at you. You think a fresh start is going to make it easier to figure out who you are, or what your purpose is?” She shook her head, turning away from him to lean on the edge of the fountain. “Here is some news. You will still be you, no matter where you go. And trust me, Regdar, you won’t be able to outrun that.”

Regdar looked down, his expression hardening as he considered her words. “So… what would you propose?”

She hopped on the fountain wall, balancing carefully, and spread her arms out. “Embrace it! Embrace what you are and who you were destined to be!”

“Uh… and what is that?”

“Become my trainer of course, you silly goose!”

Regdar stared at her for a long long time before he finally said. “It’s gonna require hard work, and a thick skin.”

Tin-Tin grinned and jumped from the fountain. “Great, now show me where to start!”


Together they slipped into the shadowy depths of the lower city, Tin-Tin following Regdar with an energetic spring in her step. At some point they walked under a sign that read ‘Maw’. Nestled in the deepest parts of the lower city, this Maw place seemed a sprawling, hidden complex of shadowy alleys and decrepit buildings stitched together beneath a massive, crumbling ceiling. The air spoke of sweat, blood, and smoke, mingled with a dampness that seeped up from the earth like a restless ghost. The pathways appeared narrow and winding, twisting like a serpent’s coils, creating a maze of concealed entrances, dead ends, and dark corners where dealings were made with hushed voices.

Beneath a subterranean bridge there was a main arena like a sort of massive pit lined with crude bleachers of splintered wood and rickety scaffolding. The space was illuminated only by the fitful glow of braziers that spit and sputtered, casting an uneven, hellish light over the attendees. The ground was packed dirt, stained dark with the blood of more than a few fights, and the scent of iron lingered in the air. High above, metal chains dangled like skeletal remnants of some long-forgotten machinery, swaying gently as the crowd shouted.

Regdar led Tin-Tin through a semi-crowded pathway. Eyes turned with predatory intensity, measuring the worth of a fresh face. Some only watched with boredom, already judging the new arrival as a weakling, while others stared at Tin-Tin with a barely contained hunger, eager to test their strength. Lean figures lurked, fingers twitched with anticipation between vendors eyeing potential buyers with barely disguised malice.

“Welcome to the pits.” Regdar grumbled.

[leviticus]

“Are you sure about this?” Regdar asked as he glanced over his shoulder, looking away from the bookie sitting behind a makeshift desk.

“Just hook me up. I can’t stand that guy’s grin.” The short young woman grumbled as she squinted over at her first would-be opponent lounging against a solid pillar at the other side of the pit. The guy was radiating smugness from every pore

“Hrm… alright then.” After a brief hesitation Regdar slapped a pile of coins in front of the greasy bookie who quickly snatched them up from the wooden surface and handed over a receit in the form of a dirty page with a wax seal at the bottom.

“Verified and good to go.” Was all he said, waving them off with a dismissive flick of his fingers.


The roar of the crowd echoed through the underground pit, a chaotic mix of jeers, shouts, and laughter followed as Tin-Tin approached the rusty gate, her footsteps lost beneath the sea of noise. Her opponent, a lean man with a wiry build and a crooked smile, smirked at her from across the arena before he lazily pushed himself off of the pillar and walked up to meet her at the center.

He glanced at the overseer who motioned them to connect fists as a form of greeting. He did so with his other hand behind his back, and as their fists bumped he taunted her. “Alrighty shorty, lets see what ya got.”

Tin-Tin’s eyes narrowed, but she said nothing, settling into a loose stance, raising her fists and ready to move.

A brief signal from the pit’s overseer, and the match began. Her opponent moved fast —faster than she expected— and before she could react, his hidden hand flashed forward, releasing a cloud of fine, gritty powder directly into her face and eyes.

She choked, her vision burning as sand or dust filled her eyes. As the overseer handed out a first warning, the crowd howled in approval at the dirty move, some laughing, others booing, but her opponent didn’t hesitate. He lunged, driving his fist right into her stomach, forcing her to stumble back. For the first time since long her world blurred, her senses thrown into disarray, mostly because of the stinging grit, but also due the fact this guy didn’t play by even the very few rules the pits had. No weapons, not even sand or whatever.

The mocking laughter around her rose, and her opponent pressed his advantage, swinging with cruel precision as she struggled to wipe the dirt from her eyes. Each hit landed hard, jarring her and threatening to topple her, but somehow she managed to remain on her feet. She started to stagger away from each blow, buying herself just enough time. To the spectators it looked as if she was disorientated from the blows. Or drunk.

That’s when he gave her a break. Which he shouldn’t have…

Using the moment she reached out with a blind hand. Her fingers brushed something cool—a mug thrust out by a spectator, half-filled with ale. “Here lassie, have a drink!”

Without missing a beat, she grabbed it, and as the crowd's laughter turned to confused whispers, Tin-Tin downed the drink in a single defiant gulp.

“Are you kidding me?!?” Her opponent spat, a sneer twisting his face as she wiped her mouth, still blinking grit from her eyes. He charged, a snarl on his lips.

His wild swing missed her by a hair as she spun past him. She swayed but then her feet found solid ground, her stance now confident despite her posture. A fire burned behind her eyes.

The shift was instant—his next blows no longer landing, and his frustration mounted as Tin-Tin’s erratic motions made her impossible to predict. And then out of the blue, she struck back. Not once, not twice, but a full series of quick, precise jabs rocked him, catching him off guard. Every punch had even more and more force behind it.

Gradually her opponent’s arrogance started to give way to desperation. He swung wildly, off balance, and Tin-Tin dodged with one final fluid sidestep. She grinned, her eyes narrowing as she saw the opening—a perfect, split-second chance.

The muscles in her arm coiled, her body shifting in one fluid motion. With a roar, she launched an uppercut straight to his jaw. Her fist connected with a force that caused the pit’s wooden bleachers to rattle. For a moment, time seemed to freeze —the crowd's shouts died, and her opponent's eyes went wide with shock— right before he was lifted off his feet, his body almost hovering in the air for an instant.

He crashed down to the dirt, unconscious before he even hit the pit floor. Tin-Tin stood over him, swaying slightly, but her grin was triumphant. For a breathless heartbeat, the crowd was silent—then the pit erupted in a roar of stunned cheers and disbelieving shouts, their earlier jeers forgotten.

“Winner! We have a new winner!” The overseer shouted, his voice barely carrying over the tumult

She looked over at Regdar and nodded.

https://www.youtube.com/shorts/OHvYzvhqqLE