This is a story I'm writing as part of NaNoWriMo, which is a month-long event where writers from around the world focus on writing each day of the month of November in order to finish, or create a piece of fiction.
I did start this story before November but decided to use this month to try and get this one finished, or at least get a good bit of it written.
A Night In The Western Wastes
Sitting on the damp concrete, he settled his mind, trying to remember the events that transpired which led to him lying on a soaking wet street, caked in his own blood. Battered, and bruised, but Triskens had thick scales that helped stave off the pain of a good beating.
Footsteps against the pavement caused him to turn briefly, assuming that the woman who found him was leaving. She wasn't. Instead, she walked around him, to stand facing him, extending a hand to help him up.
"Come on, I'll help you. Better than sitting down and getting any more soaked." She said with a genuine smile.
"The good thing about water is that it can only get you so wet. Besides, I could have probably done with a bit of a wash." M'Trada said, attempting a breathless laugh.
"Your wounds could definitely do with a clean, you don't want them to get infected. I've seen Triskens with scale-rot. It isn't a pretty site." She said, with a look of slight concern.
M'Trada grabbed her soft hand, and struggled to his feet with her help. "I'm sure the cuts look worse than they are. Love bites, really." He attempted another slight chuckle and did well not to let the pain from his ribs show on his face. "Hey, listen. Thanks for the help," his voice trailed off as he held out his hand to shake hers.
"Arien," she said as she grabbed his hand and shook lightly. "Arien Ander, and don't mention it, I couldn't stand by idly as I saw someone lying in the street. Alone, and cold."
"Appreciated." He felt it was strange that someone would bother, it was highly unusual. Humans can be empathetic creatures though, he figured. Empathy was their downfall typically. A caring heart can usually lead them into dangerous situations. "I'd better be going, I have to go and get some friends. They're inside still. At least, I hope they are." He said as he turned and made his way out of the alley and to the front of the venue.
"Spare a few FSTs?" Someone asked, which he ignored. Just a fiend looking to score. It was easy for M'Trada to wave him off, someone else habits weren't his concern. Not that he even had much to spare.
"Here you go," he heard the woman say, and the delighted fiend wrapped his arms around her excitedly. Eventually, he left, and she caught up to M'Trada.
"What was that about?" He asked.
"Nothing wrong with a bit of charity. I was down and out once, so I tend to help out whenever I can." She replied and laughed lightly at M'Trada's expression, which was most likely one of bewilderment.
"Who are you?" He mumbled suspiciously. "Why are you in this part of Talirda?" He continued. She didn't answer, and instead just gave him another warm smile, that could have dried his clothes.
She passed by him and got to the door of the building, manned by two guards. M'Trada stepped up behind her, and saw the Human shake his head, and as he did the Trisken put a hand up. "No, you're not getting back in, after the trouble you caused." The Trisken guard said. "Are you with him?" He asked the woman, as he turned from M'Trada.
"I found him in the back alley, where some of the security threw him." She said, in an almost fiery tone.
The guard shrugged. "Should have just left him where you found him." The Trisken clawed at it's chin-cap. "You're not coming in either."
"For what? Helping someone out that needed helping?" She continued in an increasingly heated voice.
"Well, yeah." The Trisken replied. "Besides, I think he has a job on at the moment. Better get that done before coming back." The Trisken said in a low and threatening manner.
"Two of my friends are in there, I need to get them." M'Trada said.
"We'll take care of them, don't you worry about that. Now, move along." The Trisken waved a hand, dismissively, as he turned to look around at the other patrons standing around.
Both of them walked away from the door in defeat. "Can you believe that?" Arien said in slight shock.
"I'm sorry for ruining your night. He's right though, maybe you should have just left me there." He replied as he looked over to the dockyard.
"What's that he said about a job you have to do?" Arien asked.
"It's just a pickup. Kind of a delivery I have for the head of this cesspit." M'Trada replied as he pointed a thumb at the building. "I don't want to do it, but I don't have much of a choice.
"Crovin? The Alid? Friends in high places, heh?" She said as a mischievous grin shined through. "Want some company?"
M'Trada was slightly taken aback by her offer to accompany him. "What? Why would you want to come along?"
"Might be looking for some work myself one day, and it might be good to get the name out there. You'd throw in a word for me, wouldn't you?" She replied.
M'Trada was a bit lost. Beneath the façade of the traits she had shown. Charitable, kind-hearted, and empathetic. There was so much more it seemed. There was a fire in her eyes, and a bit of an edge. Arien reminded him of Mari in a way, although, Mari was a lot more wayward, and didn't exactly have any self-control. Arien, however, seemed to be firmly in control of herself.
"Sure, I mean, yeah. You can come, I'm parked up in the dockyard." M'Trada replied as he tried to make sense of her. "I guess I'd be able to put in a good word for you with Crovin, but, if you want my advice. Don't get involved with him." He said as he turned and headed for his transporter, followed by Arien.