Open [fighting pits] One, two, three . . . ouch! (Syrin)

[Hess]

15 Fall, 512 Hess gave a friendly nod to Jhinapar as he came down the ledges of rock that served as steps, leading to the fight pit. He had known the Chaktawe trainer for many years, going back to his days as Yasi, when one of his studies had been hand to hand combat. Eventually, his need to excel with the bow, and learning how to survive in the wild, had taken precedence over the fighting with other Inarta. Knowing his skill in this area had suffered from much neglect, Hess had decided to venture to the pit and see if there was anyone hanging about with whom he might try to do a little sparring. Of course, he knew he’d most likely get his ass kicked, badly. But he knew in the long run, he’d be better off for honing his fighting skills back up to a respectable level. Reaching the floor of the pit, he felt the ever present wind blowing in his hair, which was getting long again. It whipped about in his face, so he reached into a pouch at his belt and withdrew a leather strip, which he used to gather up the shaggy ends and tie them back. Looking about, he saw a young man whom he didn’t recognize. The dark hair and clothing set the stranger apart as non-Inarta, and Hess watched him for a few moments, as he did what looked like some warm up exercises. Being a sociable kind of guy, Hess walked over, hand extended in a friendly way. “Name’s Hess,” he said affably. “You’re new to Wind Reach?”

[Syrin]

After hiking down the narrow trail to the huge outcropping called the Fighting pit, Syrin looks over the edge and laughs to himself at the distance down to the side of volcano. Suddenly, he feels a large hand pull him from the side of rock, and he hears a loud quiet voice say firmly, “You can jump after you fight. What is your name young man, and why are you here foreigner?” The large man pulls back his hand and crosses his large arms. Syrin looks him over and notices the large muscled man is definitely a foreigner too. Syrin smiles at the man and says proudly, “My name is Syrin Heron, and I am here to train. What is your name, Sir? Syrin figures he might as be polite just in case this large man holds some status in Wind Reach. The large man looks at him and says bluntly, “My name is Jhinapar not sir, and like this rock holding up the Fighting Pits, you can consider me also a part of the pits too.” He looks at him up and down, and says in a low voice, “I have one rule if it is your first time to the fighting pits. You have to spar, so you better warm up and I'll pick your opponent. Now move!” Syrin nods in understanding to the big man, and he walks to one of the pits. He notices a young man and woman sparing with Talon Swords. He watches them for a moment noticing that the red hair Inarta wield the talon swords with such elegance. He hopes someday he can wield his talon sword with the same grace as the Inarta. Syrin walks to a empty pit and he takes off his blue shirt. After taking off his shirt, he takes off his sword, and he sets it down on his shirt. Syrin's father always started his training with warm up exercises and stretches, so they didn't hurt their bodies during training. Sitting on the ground, he starts stretching his legs. He extends his right leg and he bend his torso down, and reaches out with his arm trying to touch his toes with his fingers. He does that stretch for twenty seconds than he repeats the stretch on the other leg. He stands up, starts doing the splits, and he bend his torso down again trying to touch the ground. After leg stretches, he moves onto arm and neck stretches. He drops to the ground and starts doing three reps of twenty pushups, and after the pushups are done. He rolls over and does three reps of thirty sit-ups. Syrin glances over and he sees a young man with red hair walking towards him. Syrin stands up when the young red hair man approaches him. Syrin grabs his shirt and wipes the sweat from his face, and smiles at him when he introduces himself as Hess in Nari. Syrin nods and says with a laugh, “Yes, I am new to Wind Reach, friend. I arrived in the first of Fall, and I still can't find my way around the city.” He reaches back and tightens the string around his black pony tail, and he says to Hess, “When I arrived in the Fighting Pits, the big scary man named Jhinapar told me. I had to spar today since it my first time, so I suggest you run or hide before he recruits you as my opponent.” He gives his Hess a smirk. Hoping he doesn't take offense at his humor.

[Hess]

Hess grinned at Syrin’s remark about Wind Reach. “Hey, I’ve lived here all my life and still get lost sometimes. And since the storm there’s all sorts of new places opened up. So, no worries. Just make sure you don’t get so lost you can’t find your way back.” He looked back over his shoulder at the huge Chaktawe, and laughed. “Jhinapar? Oh, he’s a real pussy cat – unless he’s trying to rip your head off.” His gaze came back to the man before him and his golden eyes grew speculative. “I’m up for whatever, but yeah, I’ve seriously let myself go for quite a while now. Spend too much time hunting, no time at all practicing fighting.” He grinned again. “So don’t like, you know, kill me, or anything.” Dropping to the stone floor of the pit, Hess began stretching out his legs and back, his voice a bit muffled with his forehead touching the stone, as he asked, "So, where are you from? What brings you to Wind Reach?"

[Syrin]

Sitting on the edge of the rock enclosed ring, Syrin starts rolling his wrists and his ankles, and he looks over at Hess, and says to him, “I'll make sure I buy a map of the city next time when I am in the market. Maybe I can find a update map with all the holes and pits falls of the city.” Syrin decides not to ask him what happened to the city in the storm. It only happened last spring, and he had no clue what Hess gone through the day the storm hit. He doesn't want to be nosy and bring up bad memories. He stands up and bends over and touches his toes. When Hess describes the large man as a pussy cat, Syrin laughs to himself at the mental picture, stands up straight, and says to Hess jokingly, “Tell you what I'll dangle a string in front of his face while you make a break for it, Hess.” Syrin walks over to his shirt and wipes his face. Even though it is early fall, the heat of the summer is still lingering in the air. He looks over at Hess when he apologizes for his lack of combat experience. Syrin shakes his head in disagreement, “Honestly, Hess your a wiser man than I. A smart man doesn't look for a battle, and a hunter is much more needed in a community than a warrior. Maybe one day you and I should go hunting together. I know I really need the experience.” He looks at him and laughs out loud at the hunter, “If I killed you Hess, Who would I spar next time.” Syrin liked Hess and he hopes to talk to him after the spar. He notices Jhinapar walking towards them. He looks at Hess and says honestly, but there is hint of sadness in his eyes, “I was born on a farm outside of Denval, and when the storm hit us in the spring my home city was destroyed, so after two years of wandering the Unforgiving. I decided to try start a new life here in Wind Reach.” He notices there is inconsistencies in his statement mostly the storm hitting Denval in the spring of 512AV, and him wandering for two years, but he figure if Hess is curious, it will come up at a later date. Syrin looks over the him, and notices his right hand is disfigured and his little finger is missing the top half of it. He decides to ask him, “Pardon me Hess I know we just met, but what happened to your right hand?” He hopes the Inartan doesn't think he is being rude by asking, but he is curious on the injury. Suddenly he sees Jhinapar walk up behind Hess, and he puts a big hand on his shoulder. He looks at Hess and says to him, “Since you haven't been here since you were a yasi, Hess. Why don't you and the foreigner spar it out. Remember what I taught you, and you will do fine.” He looks up at Syrin and than to Hess, “Just remember both of you to keep it clean, and try not to maim each other too bad. I don't want to have to explain again to Aidara. Why she has two new patients in her infirmary.” After saying what he had to say Jhinapar walks to the middle of the Fighting PIts.

[Hess]

Hess was listening to Syrin, even as he kept his face down, stretching out his back muscles. But what the dark haired boy said didn’t make any sense, and Hess, perplexed, was frowning as he raised his upper body back up, and bent one knee over the other leg and twisted his torso to flex his lats and shoulders. “I’m not sure Jhin would go for a bit of string. Maybe a dead mouse.” He joked back, though he was still mulling over Syrin’s account of what had happened to his family, and himself. “And yeah, you’d do well to keep me around – I make a pretty good punching bag.” He switched knees and turned to twist in the other direction, saying, “And the added bonus of not killing me is that I’d agree to take you hunting. Seems only fair – my life in exchange for a few bow lessons.” Hess turned to face Syrin once more, resting back on his one hand whilst holding the other out before himself, inspecting it. He smirked. “I like to tell people that a bear tried to kiss my face and I just wasn’t going for it.” With his mangled hand he indicated his back as well. “Then he tried to hug me. I tell you, I’m so damn hot even the animals can’t leave me alone.” Laughing out loud, he sprang to his feet, and then felt the heavy hand of the Chaktawe descend upon his shoulder. Without turning his head, he listened to Jhinapar’s instructions, but all the while he was making a fake grimace at Syrin. When the trainer left them to it, Hess grinned. “Easy for him to say. My most vivid memories of being here as a Yasi were of getting a petching lot of bruises all over me, and an equal number of nasty gashes. I have to agree with you, Syrin. Hunting is a whole lot smarter, and less painful – except when a bear asks you to dance.” He stood facing the other young man, now, about four feet apart, and he nodded. “I’m ready, I guess. And when we’re done, you can tell me what really happened to you, after the storm.” He looked at his bare feet, and added, “OK ground, I know you’re made of rock, but, please, have pity on me.”

[Syrin]

Done with his warm up, Syrin smirks and laughs out loud at the comical Inartan. He snickers to himself at the mental picture of the bear trying to dance with Hess. He figures since Hess is joking about it. He has already accepted the disfigurement. Also he loves the fact Hess is bargaining for his life with hunting and archery lessons. He will definitely take advantage of his offer. He needs the experience both in hunting and archery, and Inartans have the reputation of being the best hunters in Kalea. Also, it would be nice to be friends with this lighthearted fellow. He figures he could let Hess talk while he stands there being all stoic and anti social. He watches Jhinapar leave and smirks at Hess and says with a laugh, “Well my friend maybe next time you should have declined the bear's offer.” Syrin watches Hess jump over the ledge and walk into the ring, and he decides to talk his place four feet apart from him. He looks over at Hess and says with smile, “Tell you what Hess. After we are finished giving each other bruises. We'll dull the pain with a few pints. What do you say, and I will tell you a little bit of my boring past.” Syrin doesn't mind sharing with him. Obviously, he will leave his magic out of the conversation. Knowing from past experiences normal people tend to shy away from magic users, but he doesn't mind sharing with Hess. The places he has seen in his travels. He smirks and laughs at Hess in his failing attempt on asking the ground for mercy. Syrin says nonchalantly to him, “You know Hess your not going to strike fear into your enemy with that battle cry. Try to act more menacing like the bear.” Syrin assumes one of the fighting stances he learned from his father. He leaves his left leg as straight as possible, but moves forward his right leg and he lifts up the heel of his right foot, so it lightly distributes the weight of the leg on the ball of his foot. He clenches his fists and brings his left arm up to guard his face, and he his right fist is down by his right side. In his youth, Syrin had only basic training in unarmed combat because his father mostly focus on his swordsmanship during his youth. Honestly, he is probably knows a little more than Hess in unarmed combat but not by much. Syrin watches and waits for Hess to make the first move. Syrin eyes focus on Hess and a sense of professionalism washes over the Denvali's face. He says to Hess in a calm voice, “It is a honor to spar you Hess of Wind Reach. May your sword find peace.” His father trained in the Denvali military as a youth taught him to be a honorable warrior and to respect the battle field and the enemy. With calm and collected eyes, he gives Hess a nod to engage him.

[Hess]

Hess chuckled in return. “I tried to let the bear know I wasn’t interested, but it didn’t handle rejection well. Though, come to think of it, I’ve met a few women who had a similar response.” He watched Syrin take up his stance, and mentally prepared himself to be on the ground in just about two seconds. “I’m sure I’ll be in sore need of a drink or three after this,” he replied good naturedly. Hess didn’t bow back, but made his first strike without any preliminaries, figuring that, if he could even get in one good punch, he’d be lucky. He hopped closer to Syrin, landing on both feet, shoulder width apart, weight evenly distributed between his leading leg and the trailing one. With his fist closed loosely, palm upwards, at the level of his ribs, his elbow parallel to his side and his shoulder loose, as his fist moved forward, his hips twisted to put more strength into it. His forearm grazed his side, creating a slight friction so when it popped forward there was another little burst of momentum. At the last moment, his fist twisted over, his first two knuckles aiming straight for Syrin’s solar plexus.

[Syrin]

Syrin smirks at Hess, laughs softly to himself, and says jokily to Hess, “You sound like your a ladies man, Hess, and I guess in a way a bear man too. Anyway, I promise not to hurt you bad enough to scare the woman or the wild life.” Syrin see Hess throw his first punch towards the middle of his abdomen. It was a simple punch, but it was definitely effective. In a attempt to block Hess' punch, Syrin swiftly moves his left arm down and across his body, but he misjudge the timing of his block, and Hess hits him in the solar plexus. Syrin winces in pain as the punch lasts, and he stumbles back slightly. It takes him a moment to recover from the blow. Syrin resumes his stance, and he moves forward his left arm up still protecting his face. He smirks at Hess and says to him, “By the way, Hess be careful with me. I bruise easily.” He moves forward and does a quick jab with his blocking hand to the face of Hess, but his first attack was just a distraction because he moves his foot slightly to the left to gain his balance as he delivers a swift hard punch with his right fist into Hess' stomach. While he is delivering his blow, he twists his arm over to add attentional momentum to his punch.

[Hess]

Hess was probably much more surprised than Syrin when his fist hit home, his first two knuckles driving into the bottom of the other man’s sternum. At the very last moment, Hess tried to slow the momentum of his arm, when he realized that Syrin’s block had been mistimed and that he was going to make contact, for he didn’t want to do any real damage. They were just sparring, and not going for blood – at least, not in his book. Still, the punch had its effect and Syrin stumbled back a step. Hess straightened, and waited. The point was to learn and not hurt, or hurt as little as possible. Syrin recovered quite quickly though and took up his stance again, and Hess knew that was not going to happen again, getting in a punch like that. With his little jest, Syrin moved in fast and Hess threw up a forearm to block the blow aimed at his head, but then he saw his mistake. He had been faked out and though he whirled his lower arm up to block, he was too late. Syrin’s fist landed squarely in his mid-drift and Hess felt the air leave his body in a great whoosh!. The momentum sent him sprawling backwards and his arms windmilled comically, before he landed hard on his rump. Petch that hurt! One arm curled around his aching stomach, as he bent forward and gasped for air. When he caught his breath, he managed a laugh and shook his head. “Wow, I think I need to go back and train with the Yasi. Maybe the eight year olds would have some mercy on me.” He rolled his weight onto his other hand and then hefted himself up, straightening with a groan. “I’m not sure you have to worry about any more bruises. Syrin,” he joked. “I think I’m going to end up with most of them – or maybe all of them.” Hess grinned. Even though it was painful, it was all in good fun, right? He shook off the remnants of ache in his abs and stood once more in front of Syrin. Perhaps eventually they would get to sparring without pausing like this, especially if Jhinapar had anything to say about it. But for now, simply doing it one attack and block at a time suited Hess just fine. With an out blowing of breath, he assumed his own stance, leaning back, weight on his left leg, knee bent and the right leg leading but also with a slight bend in the knee. His left hand again was aligned with his ribs and the right one down in a guard position. In a fast, smooth forward motion, he transferred his weight to his right leg, twisting it out a bit at the foot, while bringing his left leg up, twisting it too, at the hip, though the leg was in a perfect line, foot angled to present a maximum striking surface – which was aimed at Syrin’s face.