[Flashback]Unexpected Teachers(Hex)

[Hatot]

46th Day of Fall, 509 A.V. A fall wind blew across the tall grass of the lands, a slight chill in the air. Dark clouds hovered overhead, dimming the light of the sun with shades of grey and white. About two miles from Riverfall, in the middle of the open fields of Cyphrus, four individuals stood, oblivious to prying eyes. Two of them were humans, dirt darkening their skin and clothing as they hoisted their weapons, both of them long swords, towards the other two that stood across the field from them. Thirty feet away, a tall figure stood, his frame study and strong. A long sleeved, white hooded cloak flapped wildly in the wind, his hood wriggling slightly as it revealed shades of blue skin. A young girl, no older than ten, cowered behind his legs, gripping the fabric of his pant leg in fear as the humans that threatened the Akalak that stood in her defense meant to capture her yet. “Step aside.” one of the humans demanded. “She’s our prize, and we mean to take her.” “There’s no Akalak raiding party to back you up.” The other than shouted, his voice barely carrying over the wind as a slight hesitation could be heard. “Take off back to your city now and you’ll live through this day.” “A girls life is no prize to be taken and bartered for coin,” Hatot’s voice then echoed out to the mean, his hands slowly raising as he finally pulled down the hood that hung over his head, “and if you think I need a raiding party for the pair of you, it is you two who should walk away. I warn you now, do not upset me, I would hate to have to rip your throats out in a fit of uncontrolled rage.” Both men hesitated to reply to Hatot, and as well to move in for an attack. Often, slavers would not be intimidated by one foe, but Akalak’s had a reputation across the lands, and their imposing figures often lent weight to the rumors that spread. Hatot’s fingers then slowly began to pull his cloak free from his frame. It was slowly lowered to the girl, who was dressed in nothing more than a thin short sleeved tunic and thin pants. “Here child,” Hatot offered as he let the cloak free, “it is becoming cold, and one your age should feel warmth.” A tout whistle was then given and a few short seconds passed before a Zavian horse came galloping from behind a small hill along the planes. When the horse drew next to Hatot and the child, Hatot lowered his hands, picking the child up and placed her along the horse’s back. “Hey, what do you think you’re doing?” one the slavers yelled, a look of anger and panic mixed together along his expression. “His name his Tulok,” Hatot said in a calm voice to the child, ignoring the slaver, “he will take you to Riverfall. When you reach the front gates, inform the guards that you seek shelter, and they will help you.” “Don’t you do it!” one of the slavers yelled out then, as both of them began approaching Hatot. Hatot ignored them once again, whispering into Tulok’s ear in his native language before a light slap along the horses hindquarter sent it galloping towards Riverfall, the girl leaning forward to grasp Tulok tightly so she wouldn’t fall off. “Petching shyke!” The slaver then yelled out, as the girl was carried off by the horse. He slowly raised his weapon towards Hatot, his hesitation and fear now being overtaken by his anger. “You’re going to pay for that girl with your life you giant blue skinned bastard!” Hatot raised his arms, his fingers slowly tightening the straps over his teethed gauntlets. “Then it would seem our time for banter has reached it’s end.” Hatot said, the golden hues of his iris’ shimmering slightly, almost taking on a tint of red for a moment, before turning golden in color once again. “If there is anything in this world that could bring me to rage aside from pain, it is dishonorable me such as yourself, who prey on the weak, and sell them off as if they were items in a market. You will find I will not hold back with either of you.” “You have no weapons!” the second of the two slavers shouted, still hesitation in his voice. “An Akalak himself, is a weapon.” Hatot replied as he slowly spread his feet apart, his right foot moving forward slightly. His right hand then slowly extended outward, his left crossing in front of his mid section. His hands were opened, his fingers extended and tightened. “Come then.” The first of the two slavers then rushed forward, screaming out as he drew back his sword for a swing. Hatot slowly stepped to the side as he approached, positioning the first slaver between him and his companion. He then stood in place, as his body began to bend and turn, avoiding each swing as the blade came close enough to biting into his flesh that he could feel the rush of air that it left in it’s wake. When an attack came that Hatot could not avoid in his standing position, his arm raised, as a clang of steel meeting steel rang into the air, the blade of the slaver’s sword catching along the steel teeth of his gauntlet. Hatot’s gaze shifted between the Slaver and his companion. The second of the two slavers merely inched forward towards the fight, an awkward look on his face. This was good, fear still kept that slaver’s hand, and allowed Hatot to focus more on the one who was merely angry. A moment later, Hatot finally switched to offense, finally discovering the rhythm of the Slaver’s attacks. He quickly ducked under a back swing of the slaver’s sword before rising quickly. His left hand snatched out, grasping the slaver by his right wrist, holding his weapon in place. When his frame rose quickly, his fingers extending along his other hand, swiftly rising with his body as the tips struck the slaver in the throat. A muffled sound echoed from the impact, signaling that his Adam’s apple had suddenly been crushed. The slaver’s head tilted back as he opened his mouth, choking out coughs as blood spurted out of his mouth with each exhaled cough. Hatot tightened his grip along the slaver’s wrist, preventing any last ditched effort to strike at him, and with a jerked twist of his hand, a loud snap rang out. The slaver dropped his sword, and tried to scream out but found himself unable to on the account that his lungs and throat continued to fill with his own blood. As the first slaver fell the ground, Hatot kicked his sword out of reach. His gaze then slowly raised to the second of the two, who’s fear now saw his body shaking before Hatot’s stern gaze. “It’s not too late,” Hatot said as he began stepping towards the slaver. “If you leave now, you will yet live this day, and hopefully with it, carry and urge to find a different trade other than slavery.” “I’m not afraid of you!” the slaver screamed, sounding as if he were trying to convince himself more than anyone else. “I’ll kill you where you stand!” As the sword swung down, Hatot found it’s movements easy to read. It was sluggish, and fueled by fear, rather than defense or sense of purposes. There was no true feeling in his attack, and therefore predictable as Hatot quickly stepped to the side as the tip of the slaver’s sword hacked into the ground. He then felt a sting enter his wrist as Hatot’s fingers jabbed with a blurred motion at the base of his thumb. He heard a popping sound echo out, and found the grip on his sword loosen as it dropped to the ground. The slaver looked up into Hatot’s eyes, seeing his glaring down at him. “You are a fool,” Hatot simply said as the slaver took a single step back. The slaver then felt, what he could only describe as the most excruciating pain in his life, as Hatot then began to thrust his fingers into several different locations on his body. Each strike sent a wave of pain as bundles of nerves were jolted and joints were dislocated under the pressure as the slaver stumbled back. The slaver dropped to his knees, looking up to Hatot in both disbelief and fear. Hatot stood over him, opening and cloning his hand in front of him. “May you find your next life in better company.” Hatot simply said before, like with the first, he jammed his fingers along the slaver’s throat, crushing his windpipe and knocking him down to the ground. Hatot then stood there in silence, slowly scanning the area for any hidden slavers. His thumbs slowly rubbed over his hands, working away a soreness that had began to ebb at his senses. He wished it to go away, for fear that it would wake his darker half. In the end, it was likely better. He was far from the city, and Tulok would likely not be back before night had fallen over the land. If Radris did come out, only the slaver’s bodies would be there to keep him company.

[Hex]

The ground shook with the force of the Akalak pulling, pushing, and dodging the slavers, their inexperienced blows rigid and lacking the fluidity of Hatot's graceful virulence. Bones crumbled under the pressure of his skilled fingers, splitting into pieces that poked through the skin and released blood from the body. A metallic aroma of the slaver's insides wafted over to Hex who was laying on her front in the grass almost twenty feet away from the scene of mutilation. Apart from feeling queasy from the slaughter she witnessed Hatot reek on his attackers, she was in awe of the movements and strikes he used to take down his enemy. Disabling an opponent with your bare hands was a valuable skill to have, and Hex had never been much of a fighter in her days. She focused her energy towards evasion to keep her in one piece, as eventually, the attacker would grow tired from expending their own energy into their strikes. Hex had heard the cries of the young girl and followed her and her slavers for a long distance, concerned over the welfare of the child. When she had been taken back by the blue giant, who seemed to care more about her than the slavers, Hex wanted to leave out of knowing the child would be safe but had great difficulty finding an opportunity to do so. Watching him slay the oppressors knotted Hex's stomach as she saw the instability in him, the raw power and frighteningly skillful actions. She was frozen, staring at the enormous form of the tallest, bluest human she had ever seen, at least she thought he was human. Her hands had dug into the earth, tensed with a tint of white at the knuckles and aching beyond all reason. Her whole body, filled with fear, seemed suddenly awkward as she shifted on the ground, her feet pushing at the stones and soil that rolled under her weight. She was slipping away backwards, working her body through the grasses so she could turn around and sneak away, but a rock spat out from under her toes and she fell onto her front with a crash and a grunt. The fear propelled through her gut and winded her - she knew the giant had heard her and she could sense his footsteps, crashing through the grasses in her direction. With her heart in her throat she leaped to her feet and bolted in the opposite direction of him, kicking up dust in a cloud behind her as she sped off with her heart assaulting the inside of her ribcage. She knew he'd catch her but all instinct told her to try.

[Hatot]

Hatot’s ears twitched slightly as he heard the clutter of rocks not far off. His head spun, sharply gazing in the direction of the sound as his posture come to stand at the ready again. His eyes then narrowed as he saw the frame of a figure running as fast as they could to the west. His feet slammed along the ground, giving chase out of nothing more than instinct. It took a few moments to close the distance, finding the figure’s speed on foot to be above average, better than what he would have expected the slavers he had just dispatched to be. The frame was smaller, feminine as curves ran up the length of the body, rather than bulges of muscle you would normally find on a man. As Hatot drew closer, he came to realize it was a woman, and found doubt in his need to give chase. Still, in the end, he would be sure whether or not she was a slaver, like the previous two. As the woman, started to duck under small hill, Hatot leapt from it’s top, taking advantage of the higher ground to leap over the woman. As he fell to the ground in front of her, his hand plunged down, narrowly missing the woman as his fingers broke grass in it’s path and plunged deep into the earth at his feet. His eyes narrowed as his gaze shot up to get a closer look. The woman jumped back, fear etched across her face. Hatot then began to study her apparel, none of it matching what he typically found a slaver to wear. Her clothing was more akin to the Drykas, who often roamed the Sea of Grass in their city of tents. Her eyes, however, was what told the true story. There was fear, but not the same that crossed the faces of the slavers. It carried the reaction of someone who felt they had stumbled across something they shouldn’t have, of being in the wrong place at the wrong time. Hatot’s heavy breaths echoed in the wind, his nostrils flaring slightly. Radris was close to the surface, and Hatot knew he had to calm himself. Taking a long, slow deep breath, Hatot kept a close eye on the woman, particularly a hand that reached for the hilt of a knife. As he exhaled, Hatot slowly pulled his hand free from the ground, as clumps of dirt and grass fell from the tips of his fingers. “You’re no slaver.” Hatot said in a voice that was close to sounding gruff at that point. “My apologies.”

[Hex]

Hex whimpered at the sudden appearance of Hatot, scrambling on the ground to get up into a crouch after jumping away from the giant, her hand flying to the hunting knife that sat in its leather holding on the side of her thigh. Her breath staggered from her mouth and she pushed back tendrils of hair that were blowing about her face with the wind that came in with the large man's thunderous descent onto the ground before her. Unable to mouth the words 'what are you', she trembled, her knees shaking together even as she held her pose low to the ground, ready to run again if she had to. Her? A Slaver? She straightened up then, remembering once more the men he killed, and the girl who had been ridden away on the horse Hatot summoned to his side. When he seemed to visually relax before her she relaxed too, but remained cautious as she watched him flick away the dirt that crumbled out from beneath his fingernails. While his sudden lack of interest in her eased her anxiety, she first felt curiosity over the child and then a curiosity to engage him further. However his attacks on the slavers terrified her, they were strikes of minimal effort and tremendously precise in their location on the body. Hex felt, above all, an intense desire to learn from him - after all, she was always convinced that life gave her exactly what she needed, but only if she noticed the opportunities and took action when required. Hatot began to walk away, his form like a mountain that grazed the country side and shaded everything it neared. "HEY!" she called out, "You killed those men. How did you do it?"

[Hatot]

Hatot paused in his step, taking a half turn as he looked back to the woman as she shouted out to him. His gaze scanned over her form for a moment, noting the change in her demeanor. A moment of silence and wind passed between them before Hatot finally answered, “The same you would will any rabid beast or coward who steals lives to make coin. I simply struck their vital points.” Hatot then slowly began approaching the woman once again, his hands slowly cupping together behind his frame. “Why the sudden interest in how slavers are killed if you are not one of them?” Hatot then inquired as he began circling around the woman. “And generally, the first question asked between two people would normally be for introductions.” “I am Hatot, of the Akalak people.” Hatot said, before standing before the woman, his head lowered to the point of where his chin almost touched his chest as he gazed into her eyes. “And you are?”

[Hex]

The rambunctiousness of Hex surfaced with the adrenaline she felt pumping through her body - the very stature of the giant blue human reminded her of a god and her heart pounded in response. His questions whirled around her like the breeze that enveloped them, combing through the grasses and throwing dirt and dust against her legs. Similarly, Hatot circled her, and she twirled to face him so fast that she lost her footing and tumbled onto her backside. She looked up at him with a furrowed brow and stone jaw, noting his cheekiness. "Hatot" she clicked in her mouth and met his eyes then, rinsing away the fear that had paralyzed her before. "Hex" she jabbed her sternum with her index finger and huffed the name as she rose up to her feet. "I'm here alone on the grasses." Hex replaced the knife back into the holster on her thigh before continuing, "If I lose my weapon, I am not strong, only fast. I will learn and do anything to survive." There was no better way to communicate for her than direct communication - she was an open book with her emotions and spoke only when it was necessary. Another silence rifted between them and she bore her eyes into his face, unwavering in her position and bullheaded. "Train me" she growled under her breath, a determination lit beneath her outrageous demand of him. Opening her palms to the sky and closing her eyes, she called upon the powers of her senses and auristics to flood the space around them with an aura that communicated the emotions she had felt leaving home and traveling by herself. Even if he didn't receive any information of where she had come from or who she was, Hex exposed him to a part of herself that showed him her intentions; she wasn't on a quest for coin, she was on a journey for truth. Anything that helped her continue down that path alive interested her. Period.

[Hatot]

Hatot stood there in silence, looking into Hex’s eyes as she stared back up into his. He wasn’t sure what he would say to such a demand. His own struggles with Radris put him in a problematic position when it came to interacting with others over long periods of time. Hex was a woman to boot, and Hatot had even less interaction with females overall, spending his time primarily on the outskirts of Riverfall, rather than within it’s city walls. Still, there was something about her, the determination within her eyes, and a certain presence that she emitted. It spoke larger volumes than her words could, and somehow made it’s way past Hatot’s normally reserved nature. “Follow me,” Hatot then simply said as he turned on his heels and began walking towards where he left the fallen slavers. The distance was rather short, but the steps seemed like they took a good deal of time, considering the silence that stood between them once again. Finally, Hatot stood over the second slaver he had taken down, He slowly bent over, grabbing the front of the slaver’s shirt. A sharp tug caused the fabric to tear, as it was ripped away, exposing the man’s flesh beneath. More importantly, it exposed the several slight welts and bruises that Hatot’s strikes had managed to leave behind before the man had died. “My method of combat, is one that focuses on various pressure points that exist along the body. It is not specifically intended for killing, and there are few points where only one strike will cause death. However, it is powerful in that if points are exploited correctly, it can disable your opponent, or at the very least, greatly hinder their ability to attack you further.” Hatot then slowly stood up, looking to Hex with a curious glance. “The training involved is not easy, nor will it be short, and I will not be able to give you skills that will extend past novice levels, as I have not mastered this art myself yet.” Hatot then slowly let his gaze travel over Hex’s frame, studying it for a moment. “You already look to be in better than average physical conditioning,” Hatot commented, “but my training will demand more. Especially when it comes to your hands and fingers. For they are the key to exploiting the pressure points. They must be as strong and as sturdy as wood if they are to apply the pressure necessary and not break under the force. Then, they must become stronger still, to be able to fully exploit those points to their maximum potential.” Hatot then leaned forward, his face stopping a mere inches away from her own. “So answer me, and be sure when you answer,” Hatot then said as he looked into her eyes, searching for even the slightest amount of doubt, “are you willing to devote the time and push yourself for this training?”

[Hex]

Keeping up with Hatot's long strides took Hex from a brisk walk to a light run as she followed him to the corpse of the slaver. He was right when he guessed at her overall strength level, she had room for improvement, even with the lean muscle that gave her enough strength to propel her body through the air when dodging or running. As for the strength of her fingers, well he knew little of her Chaktawe history and the extrasensory ability that marked the tips of her fingers, giving her a way to read environmental vibrations. So much of Hex's training and traveling had included the use of her fingers and arms while scanning the area for predators. In most cases, simply placing her fingers on the surface of the earth or up to the air yielded information. But being mix blooded, her ability took slightly longer to analyze, and required her to plunge her fingers into the earth to get an accurate reading of the vibrations that emitted from everything moving underground and on the surface. He had to be sure that she was worth the time and energy to train, that she was willing to stretch herself past any known limit to achieve understanding in the art of attacking pressure points. It was no secret to Hex that the body had points vulnerable to powerful strikes. She knew human anatomy from her medicine studies, and had a sharp eye and strong memory for learning things having to do with the body. If she could sew someone up, she could learn to undo them with just as much skill. Hatot intimidatingly ran through the training process and she patiently sat listening to his stern words until he finished and exhaled a breath. Hex backed up then until she had a small space of dirt uncluttered by the roots of grass stalks. There was little she could do to convince him with her words that she was worthy, she was a woman of little words but many actions and symbols. She rose her left hand into a claw like formation, her nails short but strong nonetheless. With a swift motion she brought her first hand down in an arch and punched through the dry, dense earth and managed to bury her fingers up to the knuckles. There was little reason to put them in so far as she only needed the tips of her fingers covered to read with her senses, but for the purpose of showing him her strength she pelted the ground repeated with the fingertips of both hands, driving them over and over until the small patch of earth had turned into a bowl of flour like dust, collected in the crater she formed with her hands. All of the training she had already done led her to that point of meeting Hatot and learning from him. She was ready to learn anything he would pass on to her, no matter the skill level. Even with his novice ability he was able to bring down an unskilled warrior and that was enough for Hex. "Teach me" she simply said, without an air of conviction and more with the mellow side of her that was fully engaged to her path. She knew she could be convincing...

[Hatot]

Hatot remained silent, once again studying Hex, looking for any signs that her resolve would waver. She displayed that her hands and fingers were already on their way, plunging it into the earth in a single quick motion. Hatot’s gaze then slowly rose to meet Hex’s once again. “Very well,” Hatot said before stepping over to the first of the slavers. He slowly leaned down, picking up the slaver by the belt and waist line of his pants. The body lifted into the air as Hatot’s arm went taught and he began moving towards the west, the slaver’s arms and legs dragging slightly along the ground. “Study the locations of the marks my strikes left behind on that corpse, they will be the focus of your initial studies. While you are doing that, also explore the body's joints, examine the soft spots. Bone is hard, but what connects each individual bone together often isn't. While you are studying, I will take this one a safe distance away first, and then return for the other. We don't wish to attract Glassbeaks after all. When I return for the second one, you’ll begin some physical training that will further begin to strengthen your fingers and hands.” Hatot then quickly yanked up on the corpse, as the slaver’s body moved through the air like a rag doll before falling along Hatot’s shoulder. He then began his long strides, looking back to Hex. “Get ready for a long day.” Hatot said as he pointed north. “My camp is about two hundred paces that way. It is not far from a stream if you want to refill your water skin.” Hatot then simply continued his walk, beginning to whisper a simple prayer as he continued to calm his own spirit. Radris was still echoing screams within his soul, continuously trying to claw his way to the surface. It was something Hatot did not wish, not so soon after a battle, as Radris’ rage would still be practically blind, lashing out at anything that came to close. It likely would not be until late in the evening before Tulok returned. Hatot began estimate just how much food he would need to purchase for her training. He wasn’t even certain how long her training would last. Would it be a couple of days? A week? Half the season. His own training had started from the moment he could walk, and he was still training. It was not likely that she would want to stay around as long.

[Hex]

The body before her was stiff and broken, not in the way a bone might snap in half, but closer to what can best be described as a cataclysm of the slaver's nervous system. Hex shredded the clothes from the slaver's body with her hunting knife, first ripping open the shirt and examining the torso and neck. Large reddened welts lay in sequence along the skin, marking the points near the collarbone and windpipe, where flesh had been crushed under the immense pressure of a jabbing finger. Hatot's fingers were thick and large, and the bruises that lingered were nearly as big as Hex's closed fist; it was no wonder the slavers died so quickly with no way to breathe. Arteries and veins that ran along the arms and neck seemed to have exploded within the skin, obviously due to a clogged passageway of some sort - the things Hatot was capable of were deadly to the delicate flesh of humans. The slaver's throat was collapsed in on itself, blood staining the skin around his shoulders red until they began to dry and crack as Hex moved her hands over the skin to feel how it had become inflamed and firm with liquid. With most of his upper body swollen and deformed in appearance by the reddening flesh, the slaver lay with eyes fully open and extended, whisps of dust and dirt collecting on the wet surface of his eyeballs. Time accompanied Hex in her silent investigation of the body and she sat studying every inch of it, sliding her hands over the cooling flesh, resting on the dislocated thumb that effectively disarmed him. An incredible pressure had been applied to the joint for it to pop apart like that - the ligaments that held the bone in place were just mercilessly stretched until they snapped within the folds of muscle surrounding the hand. It had swelled until bulbous and it was difficult to see exactly what angle he had used and how much pressure; she required further instruction from him to truly learn the art he himself was on his way to mastering. Novice or not, Hatot had skills Hex hungered to know and learn herself. A hand searched her bag for the waterskin inside, and while it was only half full, she had taken a long drink only a day prior - she was alright to go without water for at least another four days. Hex returned to the body after sorting out her water situation in her head, and she bent over the crucial wound in the slaver's throat. The hunting knife was used to poke and push away broken skin that Hex focused her eyes on, looking to reveal the nature of the attack weapon's physical impact. The strike was so powerful that the indentation of Hatot's finger nail had sliced through the back of the wound, ministering a dark thin curve along the flesh that had filled with clotting blood, making the dark of the hole contrast with the tissue's vibrant red hue. Hex was so intensely concentrated on the task Hatot had given her, that she jumped at the sudden alert of his presence - the sound of a grass stalk crunching under his feet when he finally drew close. Hex could feel the instability in the tall blue male, and kept her movements predictable as to not alarm him and set him off in any way. She held her head up with caution and searched for his eyes under the dark shade of the hair that collected over his forehead. "I did what you asked" she whispered, curling her toes under her and pushing off until she stood up straight, glancing down at the body that lay violated and destroyed beneath her.