<div class="floatleft">(http://i179.photobucket.com/albums/w310/Sparrowhawke/SanteriAaltonen-1.jpg)<br/><strong>Name:</strong> Santeri Aaltonen (http://elliquiy.com/forums/index.php?topic=141932.msg6423550#msg6423550)<br/><strong>Location:</strong> The Blue Iguana<br/><strong>Languages:</strong> English, Finnish<br/><strong>Tagging:</strong> Noticing Ta’er, Open</div><br/><br/>And of course, the man had friends, that or the entire place was already just so ready to blow. Both were equally likely, though the reasons didn’t matter. What mattered was that the entire bar seemed to be erupting in a fight and he was right in the fucking center of it. Santeri gave a low growl, pulling out a short blade. The knives were designed for throwing, but anything sharp was more than suitable as a weapon in a brawl such as this, especially when there was no room to swing a sword. Another man decided to prove this theory as he made a lunge with a partially shattered bottle, but it seemed that the container had been well emptied before it was broken, as the man swayed drunkenly about. It was rather easy for Santeri to evade the glass and bury his blade into some vital part of the man’s anatomy.<br/><br/>A familiar cry rang out through the room, and he took relief in knowing that Ta’er had joined the fight. He wasn’t naïve enough to think that the man had done so for his sake; it was merely for his own enjoyment. But all the same, Ta’er was a skilled fighter, more so than himself, and it vastly improved his own chances of getting out of this mess in one recognizable piece. His odds would improve even further if Du’an was around, the brothers were an impressive team, and Santeri wouldn’t wish to be opposing either of them, never mind when they work together.<br/><br/>Santeri had to duck as a fist came flying towards his face, barely moving in time to avoid it, and quickly entered the fight in earnest. If he wanted to get out of here, especially with John in tow, he would have to show these bastards he was not to be fucked with. Ta’er and Du’an might be superior fighters, but he was still good enough to earn his place on the ship. He let out numerous growled curses in his native tongue as he fought, not moving from his place over the felled slave. Anyone could think he was attached to the man.