Are You Not Entertained? [Everyone]

[Naeem Ra[Inactive]]

Night had fallen in Constantinople and the local rabble had come out to play. With the dark, the more rowdy residents of the city were ready to have a wild time. And what better place than the arena?

Situated in the South Constantin District, the small room was featured in the cellar owned by a prominent mercenary. Everyone was welcome. Ottoman, Byzantine, and even Romanies were featured in the audience as well as the fighting ranks. Tonight, it was packed. Every single man(and woman) there had been waiting for this event for weeks. King of the Hill. Whoever was left standing at the end of the night would take home the prize. And right now, the Brawler was king.

"Is that the best you got," a booming voice questioned. Above the roaring crowd, a deep reverberating laugh rang out. Naeem took a punch to his stomach and chuckled before repaying it in kind threefold. His opponent grunted and sank to the ground, defeated.

The very large Templar turned to the audience and bowed, reveling in the adoring cheers as the loser was dragged out of the circle into safety behind the wooden gate surrounding the circle of sand. Stretching his slightly weary body, he smiled with a glint in his dark eyes. With a grand, mocking gesture, he felt the top of his forehead. "No sweat boys! I'm on a roll tonight!"

However, he did feel slightly hot. Pulling his vest off, he threw it to the side and showed the mark of his order proudly on his arm. After all, tonight was one of unity and peace. If you could look past the flying fists. "Who is next?"

The ring fell silent, anxiously waiting the arrival of the brave soul willing to step up and accept the challenge.

[Minau Eilis]

It was one of those events where people crowded together with their eyes locked on a single subject.  So tightly focused that they would never notice the sudden loosening of their money pouches from their bodies.
With blonde hair tied up in a messy bun, her white tattoos just barely showed up in the dim light of the tavern, not the mention the small beads of sweat that slid down her neck.
She may have not been the one fighting, but so many bodies in such a small area sure made it hot, and she was miserable.  Yet with her skirts filled with stolen treasure she was just able to keep pushing through, taking as much as she could in a quick amount of time.
She had noticed other gypsies in the crowed by their bright colors and loud outfits, probably working for the same goal she was.  Which meant competition, and Minau wasn't the best at splitting her work.

For a moment she stepped out of the crowd into the most open space she could find and used a spare piece of fabric from one of the folds of her clothing to whipe away the access sweat from her neck and face.  While taking her break she glanced up to the focal point of everyones attention to see the massive man roaring his victory.
How fun, beating a man bloody could be such a thrill.
She rolled her eyes and counted the bags that jingled in her skirts.  It wasn't as much as she hoped for, but wasn't as bad as it could have been.

[Tahir Yünan]

When the sun went down and the moon was up, Tahir had just exited the door of his den. When the blanket of darkness covered the city, it was dangerous to roam the streets alone. Regardless, the Assassin strolled under the dim light of the moon--his midnight sun--with nothing more than his left hidden blade. Tonight, he wouldn't be doing much climbing, or anything that required the hooked blade he had become so familiar with.

He wasn't wearing his robes for once. Instead, he had gone for something a little more comfortable. A simple pair of pants and a long-sleeved shirt was all he needed on a night such as this. And on a night such as this, he had no contract, no work to be done. But Tahir hungered for conflict. He needed to feed the fire that burned inside of him.

He had a certain event in mind that would fit his appetite perfectly.

Tahir pushed through the crowds of people that blocked his path. The arena was full of energy and excitement--perhaps just a little bit too much for him. But as he made his way to the front row, he saw a sight that impressed him. He was a giant of a man, built like a bear. His opponent met the full force of his blow, and Tahir actually couldn't help but give a small smirk that formed at the corners of his mouth as he was dragged out of the arena. He would be a difficult opponent, for sure.

Before Tahir even knew it, he had lifted himself over the side of the spectator's row, and into the arena. He definitely lacked the strength to match up to such a brute. But what he lacked in strength he could make up for with raw speed and agility. 

"I'll take your challenge," was all the Assassin said. His eyes were challenging and slightly mocking. His knees bent in a defensive stance, waiting for him to make the first move. In a fight such as this, he had to tire out his opponent as much as possible to take the advantage. And so he waited for him to take the preemptive strike that would begin the battle. Patiently, he awaited his first blow.

[Naeem Ra[Inactive]]

Naeem stood there, impatiently crossing his arms and staring at the spectators with a bragging smirk. Not a single soul willing to step up? How unsatisfactory. After all, he had only taken down a couple fighters and he wasn't even warmed up yet.

Then, the sound of boots hitting sand reached his ears and his smirk widened into a pleased grin. His head turned to view his next opponent, taking the man in with a skilled eye. Strange clothing, tight enough to see the obvious muscle mass, wasn't out of place in this city. The newcomer was probably Ottoman. He was certainly dark enough for it.

Turning fully, he spoke. "About time. Wouldn't want this night to end a little early."

Large hands came together and cracked his knuckles, readying his fists to meet soft flesh. Naeem rolled his shoulders forward and backward, making a show of readying himself for the coming conflict. It was all just a big ruse. In reality, the Brawler was analyzing the other's stance and body. Defensive position and patience. Obviously, this fool believed to use his speed and agility as his main course of action while waiting for Naeem to drop from exhaustion. A valid and well-thought plan, obviously executed easily before. This fighter was no amateur.

But neither was he. The Egyptian chuckled with glee. At last, a worthy opponent who would give him the challenge he desired.

Suddenly, the giant rushed his smaller opposition, right hand raised in the air and ready to strike a blow against the head. Instead, he feinted left and aimed a kick at the knees while his left arm chopped towards the back. This move was useful for disorienting opponents who employed the waiting game. You could only dodge one way without getting caught somewhere by the scissoring limbs.

In the heat of the moment, his eyes faintly noticed the presence of a familiar wrapping around the man's forearm. An Assassin?

[Tahir Yünan]

Tahir could tell the man was analyzing him closely; an interesting approach for a man that likely depended on raw strength. But perhaps he wasn't the big, stupid brute he initially had thought him of being. He seemed more... Strategical. Cunning, perhaps? He definitely knew what he was doing.

As he rushed him, Tahir stood unmoving, waiting. He was calm. He was trying to show the man that he wasn't intimidated. At the first punch, his moves seemed a little... Obvious. However, that was only if his observation of the man's cunningness had proved to be true. No, no. He wanted him to dodge. The way he choreographed his swing was true to that. If his plan was to simply give a strong beginning blow, he wouldn't have made it as clear. He had something else planned.

He swung his head slightly to the left. Yes, a deceptive blow! But he wasn't finished yet. The man chopped low with his next arm, and his leg raised from the ground, most likely for a kick. This prevented Tahir from dodging neither right or left. Instead, he could only move backwards. Leaping quickly, he shifted his body back a couple paces, distancing himself from his opponent yet again.

But there was one more thing that caught the Assassin's eye: the obvious insignia of his sworn enemies.

[Naeem Ra[Inactive]]

Hitting nothing, he paused and stepped back, his arms coming up to rest comfortably in a blocking position, just in case.

Interesting. So, the agility served him well. The Templar Stalker watched Tahir back away with an impassive expression. An Assassin was the last thing he expected tonight. Didn't they have some bleeding heart campaign to go crusade about? After all, his master's had been busy recently, setting things in motion to favor the Byzantine cause. They would take back this city soon.

Void of any emotion, he stared at the opponent with a new eye. He had never seen him on any of the target boards, which meant one of two things. It was a trainee who hadn't garnered enough infamy to pose a threat. Or, it was a veteran who had been careful enough to wipe away any trace of himself from Templar notice. Guessing from his demeanor and his skill, Naeem guessed the latter.

Just as quick as he put up a blank face, he replaced it with the same predatory grin he had a moment ago, albeit a false one for the crowd. No need to derive them of their show. A debate sprung up in his head. Should he fight just for the thrill? Or try to resume his duty right there?

No. He was too honorable to try that. Tonight, fighting was for entertainment only. Any and all disputes were left at the door. Or, solved peacefully in the ring. That, and the Assassin had his hidden weapon while he was weaponless and without any protection to his bare skin. Tomorrow, Ra decided, would be no holds barred if they met again. Tomorrow, they would be divided by the same lines as always.

That is, if the Assassin would honor the unspoken rule of the ring.

"You're quite the slippery little rat, aren't you?" What? He had no qualms about throwing insults if he couldn't hurl blades. "Why don't you try taking me on rather than running?"

He began circling around the ring, trying to unconsciously drive his foe towards the center. After an incident years ago, he didn't trust sticking close to an audience who had heavy bets on the fight. He came to no harm that time, but his opponent found himself with a knife in his back as his murderer found Naeem's hands around his windpipe. Very few things were sacred to Naeem and the ring was one of them. The giant nodded to the gauntlet. "Why don't you get rid of that toy? How am I supposed to know you'll honor the fight?"

Might as well get it out there that he knew what the man was. After all, his tattoo most likely gave away his allegiance as well. In fact, he counted on it.

He started to make his circles smaller, closing in on his query.

[Tahir Yünan]

Okay, so this fight had taken an interesting turn. He was fighting a Templar. And by his words, he had defined him as belonging to the Assassins, as well. Each knew of the others' intentions. At first, he thought about simply rushing at him with his weapon, killing him, and finally leaving without even looking back. But there were too many witnesses here... It wasn't something he would get away with. So instead, he decided to fight honorably. He would play the Templar's games.

Tahir smirked at his insult. It sounded childish to him. "That was a clever little trick back there," he said as he began peeling away the bracer of his hidden blade, "Did you learn that in one of your drunken bar fights?" He let the weapon fall to the ground, his eyes penetrating his opponent's in a steely gaze. He wanted him to move now. That would be fine.

He watched him make circles around the ring, waiting patiently. He waited for his moment. He didn't move a single muscle. Then, with no warning or indication, he sprinted towards him with silent ferocity. But just before he was within arm's reach of the Templar, he stopped himself, sliding on the sand in a crouched manor. He slid quickly past his left side, straightening his back as he threw a short punch at the back of his neck.

[Naeem Ra[Inactive]]

At least the Assassin had enough morality as to attack an unarmed man. Well, in front of an audience that knew how turn into a mob at the drop of a hat.

He was fast. Really fast. Naeem had no time at all to move before he felt something colliding the back of his neck. Knowing how to take a hit, this small punch was nothing. Or should've been.

Instead, he stumbled and almost lost his balance, but regained his footing. Turning, he threw a futile punch in hopes to distract the man. Now, with everything set, he stood to his full height and clasped his hands above his hands before bringing them down on the smaller fighter. It was a move known to break skulls if used by a man like him.

[Tahir Yünan]

Tahir had successfully disoriented him. He could easily tell by the way he threw a useless punch, by which he easily ducked to avoid. But perhaps the Templar wasn't as disoriented as Tahir had originally thought, as he was in the perfect position to have his skull completely bashed in. Panicking slightly, he rolled out of the way, recovering back to his feet moments later. He threw two punches in succession, both aimed at his stomach. Now was the time in the fight where he had to be relentless in his blows.

[Naeem Ra[Inactive]]

Slicing through air, his fists collided with dust as the dodgy little got away again. Rearing up, he had to stifle the urge to roar beastially and already noticed the next blow on its way. Clenching his stomach, he allowed the fists to make contact and feigned to be hurt.

With an exaggerated moan, he slumped to his knees and began to hack. It was all a big rise, really. A few meager hits wasn't enough to bring him down and his opponent knew that. He just hoped that the other would be confused long enough for this next trick to work.

After a few moments of more hacking, his legs came out from under him and shot out faster than an arrow. Naeem's large feet were on a collision course with the fighter's knees.

[Tahir Yünan]

Tahir watched the man fall with a skeptical gaze at first. Though, as he started hacking, he gained a litttle bit too much confidence. Tahir took two small steps forward, and then was completely taken off-guard as the bear of a man darted at his knees. He gave a short yelp as he was knocked over like a sappling buckling to the wind. As he fell, he gave a panicked punch aimed at the side of his head, hoping to disable him to some degree.