Fresh Rise [Ishara]

[Serrif Von Chatlyn]

“Yes you did.” He said acknowledging her accomplishment it was clear to him that she had likely never sparred with anyone before now. But he felt just as she did his first time sparring with Val’mera. And she two laid him out on the ground flat.

Plan? He didn’t think he had much of a plan, but his face betrayed him with a slight sly smile as he looked at her sprawled on the sand. She almost looked like she belonged among the sand; her bronzed skin blended well and her glacial eyes stood out remarkably. Eyes like water in the desert. He saw where that saying came from now.

“Nothing wrong, the kick was powerful and well placed.” He assessed her play in his head and noticed only one thing. “however you should’ve placed a faster kick. Or maybe masked your intentions a little better. Because of where you placed your arms I knew you were going in for a kick, also your stance gave it away when you placed your grounding leg behind your open stance a little.” He shrugged and pointed to the ground.

“However if you are on the ground your fight will surely be far from over.”He walked within kicking distance of her before speaking again. “On the ground you are believed to be powerless but that isn’t completely true. You can still place powerful kicks. However there is one place of the body that you could strike crippling blows to.”

He tapped his knee and nodded. “Right here. If you strike the knee hard enough you will break it and cripple your opponent for life. They will never walk again…unless someone marked twice by Rak’keli finds them and heals them. Otherwise they will never walk normally again.”

[Ishara Dossari]

Ishara winced as he described the crippling knee injury she could inflict, a frown creasing her brow. She could not picture herself lashing out in such a manner. What would it take? She tried to conjure up a situation that might merit such behavior...An assault on one of her brothers, perhaps. A cold fury sparked in her chest as she pictured it...little or not, her stature would not prevent her from trying to take down her brother's 'attacker.' Ah, but her brother was not here. Serriff was. Which is why it would be a good idea to stop scowling, Ishara reminded herself, wiping the stern expression off her face. "Well, I will keep that in mind," she nodded, meeting Serriff's eyes with a tight smile. Down on the ground, Ishara felt even smaller when peering so far up. It was a sensation that irked her. So, she gathered her legs beneath her and stood again, dusting the sand from her hands. Even so, the top of her head barely came up to his chin...She gave herself a shake, sucking down a deep breath. She needed to relax. She needed to focus. She needed... "What's next?"

[Serrif Von Chatlyn]

The emotional battle for harming another took place across her face. He knew it was hard to swallow. It was for him at first but all he had to do was remember the camp and he knew that if he didn’t defend himself he would find himself there again in a cage. And he would do anything to avoid that situation. He wouldn’t wish that kind of fate on anyone. Which was a reason the women who were Nakivaks bothered him so much. He knew what they were ‘required’ to do, what the Akalak men did to them. Sure they were given a standing in the society above him. But only because of the worth of their wombs.

Ishara seemed at odds with herself. She wasn’t completely calm. He could see it in her stance. She was a little shaky and unsure of herself and yet she wanted more. She reminded him so much of himself with Ildin and Val’mera. He was at times at odds with himself and yet he pushed onward. But his mentors always had the sense to have him center himself before continuing on. It was important to really soak in what you were doing. To really learn otherwise the knowledge was useless.

“Take a moment.” His words gentle and smooth, like cool flowing water. “Breathe center yourself and calm your senses.” With a smile he moved closer to her and down into her deep glacial eyes. They still enthralled him but he was trying his hardest to cast that aside for now. Fighting the urge to place a hand gently on her face and feel the soft flesh of her cheek. He could lose himself in her wonderful pools…he knew the danger in that.

And yet…He wanted to. But for now he wouldn’t allow this. He was here to teach her of combat and how to defend herself. This way she would never be taken for a Nakivak by these men…not be taken as a slave by anyone. He considered this very important. Because he didn’t know if his sanity could survive another bout at the camp…if it was still around.

“Just focus on something, the movement of the waves, the feeling of the breeze. Gain your focus and then when it is back open your eyes and see clearly.” Cryptic instructions but the same general ones that Ildin had given him before.

[Ishara Dossari]

Was she that transparent? Ishara squared her stance and let her arms fall, shaking them as though to dispell the bunching of tense muscles and wound nerves. Slow down, she reminded herself, taking a deep breath as Serriff's words reached out to her. She had to-- He took a step closer, and her eyes snapped up to him. There was a heat in his gaze that had not been there previously. The way he was looking at her...Ishara blinked and dropped her eyes to her toes, shutting them against any further observations and narrowing her focus on the pounding of the waves. In and out. Just like her breath. Just like the transfer of blood in her heart. In and out. In and out. Slowly she felt the world realign, her pulse slow, her muscles release their tight grip across her bones. "Just focus on something, the movement of the waves, the feeling of the breeze. Gain your focus and then when it is back open your eyes and see clearly.” In and out. The mantra became not words in her head, but an image of the pounding waves, the sensation of air coursing through her lungs, the very thread of live that kept her upright. Were it not for the pounding of the waves, she would have found this exercise a great deal more difficult. It would have to be something she practiced upon carrying with her. Perhaps it was a meditation she could exercise along with her prayers...She sighed...and opened her eyes. Serriff was closer than she'd expected...and she took an involuntary step back. Her pale eyes sharpened, and she sank into a readied stance. She was ready to try again, but no words were needed to announce her intentions. She awaited her next instruction.

[Serrif Von Chatlyn]

Visually he saw her body gently come down. Her muscles released a tight almost death grip on her bodies bones. He swore he could almost hear her pulse slow down gently as he too slowly began to center himself. But he did so while keeping an eye on her as well. The exercise was as much physical as it was mental. Her body was centering itself, finding it’s true relaxed self. This was very important, because if you were not calm during a fight mistakes were made.

And these mistakes could cause you to miss details; details that could mean your own death. Small things could cause you to gain the upper hand easily in a battle between two. Small miniscule things like stance, breathing, and even eye contact. It was all as much a mind game as a physical game…however in games the result of losing was usually not life threatening. Her eyes opened again and she took a step back. She was ready again; and focused anew.

He mirrored her motion and nodded. There would be a difference here now. Maybe she would think a little clearer rather than just jumping into an action of some kind. The only way to find out for sure was to start. So he took his ready stance and his mind began to comb her over gently. Focusing on everything and nothing all at once. The little details would tell him what she was planning. What she may do, but he had also given her the answer to how he had read her before. So it was possible that she would try and trick him. But the body never lied; he would have to catch her early enough to maybe cast a block against her. He motioned for her to continue by casting a come hither motion with his pointer and index fingers on his right hand. He was ready.

[Gossamer]

. Character: Serrif Experience: +1 Teaching, +1 Unarmed Combat Lore: Showing Off To A Student, Being A Bullying Teacher, Knowing When To Let A Student Regroup Character: Ishara Experience: +3 Listening, +3 Observation, +2 Unarmed Combat Lore: The Hard Points Of The Body, Legs Give The Hardest Hits, Being Leg-Swept By Your Instructor, Asking Smart Questions Of Teachers, The Knee Can Be A Vulnerable Spot Additional Note: First off, I was a bit disappointed because this thread was not that of a novice unarmed combat student teaching another novice. Serrif, you came off as an expert, but you had no lores to back it up. This is a big no no so unless you alter the thread in a way that makes you look less ‘expert’ and more ‘novice’ the grading will reflect the faux pas inherent in this whole thread. You can get an NPC to do this, but you cannot play your PC as having a greater skill than they do. Then I can’t believe the first time you let her kick you, you then turned and legswept her. That’s mean and kinda bullyish. Serrif needs to stop staring at her eyes and pay more attention to teaching her self defense. I felt so bad for Ishara in this thread! Ishara, in the face of a bullying and showing off instructor, you did really well to handle the situation with grace and poise. And as much as I hate to say it, I don’t blame Ishara for not continuing it. If this had been my PC I’d have rearranged Serrif’s manbits and walked out of the thread . .