Solo Reciprocity

[Razkar]

Continued from here

21st Day of Spring
The Middle Suvan Sea
18th Bell

The clang of metal and metal tells Turak that he won't be dozing anytime soon. His vast violet bulk shifts and a stream of Tukant oaths spill from his lips. A passing Svefra crewman's eyes widen in shock, showing he at least has a passing understanding of the Akalak's tongue... and if your language succeeds in shocking a sailor, you clearly have accomplished something.

Resigned to waking for a little while, he hauls himself up into a sitting position, muttering, "Never a moment's petching piece with these two..."

Bleary eyes blink into focus, seeing two blurry, fast moving shapes. Eventually they become clearer, more defined... and he sees the Myrian slashing at his cousin's side with his hand ax. Out of instinct his hand shoots to his broadsword, but then the strike becomes slower, almost grinding to a halt...

"See?" Razkar says, tones sounding eerily similar to Eranis in that moment, despite his guttural Common accent. "Hand ax is meant for hacking, slashing... hammering. So most time, go for large part of body. But..."

He steps back and makes similarly slow sweeps at Eranis' knees and forearms. Each time Eranis moves his lakans down to block the blows, steel tinkling against steel in their slowness.

The smaller Akalak grimaces briefly: "Seems too simplistic of an approach."

"Too what?"

"Simple."

"Oh." Eranis is fast learning that while Razkar's knowledge of Common is good, his knowledge of weapons terms is fluent. And yet, even a word like simplistic can trip him up. "But ax is, ah... not only. Use often as main, but have other hand on weapon." He unsheathes his gladius. "Use other weapon to parry, block, thrust... ax to slash and hit hard. Use together-"

He lunges forwards, bringing his gladius thrusting towards Eranis' chest-

-who pivots out the way, knocking the blow aside with his rising right lakan-

-only to be forced back as Razkar's ax strikes at his side, left lakan only just stopping it-

-Razkar lashing out with his foot-

-and hitting empty air as the Akalak back-peddles perhaps a little more desperately than he'd like. Razkar smiles and nods.

"Now see? Use both. In long fight, you better. You move weapons smooth, both hand. Me... still learning. But..." he holds up both of his larger, longer weapons briefly. "Size matters."

Eranis cocks an eyebrow and both sparring warriors hear the rumbling bass of Turak's laughter, sitting up and stuffing salted pork into his mouth as he watches the show. The smaller Akalak watches the Myrian stow his short sword and heft his ax again.

"So, is good for main attack, while other weapon-"

"-can confuse the enemy, force them on the defensive... but with more range than a lakan."

Razkar nods again, smile mirroring the one Eranis gave him earlier. It has been a while since he had such a role in... tutoring. Not since Taloba, before the Djef Storm, assisting the instructors there in terrorizing and tormenting and training the new blood at the Training Yards. He's surprised how much he's missed that feeling of accomplishment: imparting what wisdom you have and honing a warrior, of whatever skill, just a little more.

"Yes." He shifts his right foot back, ax cocked, side face to the Akalak, who raises both lakans in that now-familiar boxer's stance. "Ready?"

A short, curt nod. Both men unge forwards and the lesson continues.

[Razkar]

Reach was the Myrian's weapon in the duel; speed and one extra weapon was the Akalak's. Both men knew it, too.

Turak watched with surprising interest as Razkar swung towards his cousin again, only for Eranis to sway away, stepping forward quickly to punch/slice towards the Myrian's chest-

-but the savage slid backwards, backhanding the ax across Eranis's torso in a horizontal swing-

-forcing him to do the same, creating more distance between them that denied him the use of his short daggers. For three or four chimes the two had been circling, swinging, slashing, punching, each struggling to find a gap or opening. As far as Turak has seen, neither one had capitalized yet.

The hulking Akalak smiled and leaned forward slightly. He could see the sheen of sweat on both figures, exertion finally getting to them. They were learning and observing each other closely, enough to mix things up a little.

Razkar lunged forwards and swung low from the right, at Eranis's leg-

-but it was a feint, stalled before it had even gone halfway to the limb, ax jerking upwards instead-

-only to be knocked aside by the Akalak's left lakan, the right coming in for a strike at Razkar's chest-

-but he rolled away to his right, under and away from the swinging blade, across the spray-soaked and rocking deck, coming up on his feet. He turned and swung quickly, keeping Eranis back and stopping him from capitalizing on showing his back...

The Akalak nodded sharply. Turak did, too, but much slower.

Good fight... but the crux is coming.

Razkar was wearying, and he knew it. His opponent's defence was flawless, and if he was using a shorter weapon, he would already be wounded and bloody. The ax kept him at bay, though... but keeping at bay was not winning, and that was all that mattered in a fight. The Akalak regarded him with cold, clinical, piercing eyes... probably thinking similar thoughts.

Have to suffer to get close, Eranis thought, plans forming and collapsing rapidly until only one was left, have to be quick and sure, but can't let that ax keep me away forever, even-

-if I have to take a wound, I have to close the gap, Razkar was thinking to himself, flipping his ax around in his hand, finally deciding on a final, desperate play. And end it fast and vicious...

"Ready?"

Razkar smiled, and it was genuine. They were on the same wavelength, the Barbarian and the Savage, the Warrior and the Scholar.

"I am."

As Turak predicted, they clashed one last time, and blood arced into the salty air.

[Razkar]

Both fighters were, in a way, striking in desperation. It was not the wild, fevered desperation of a death-or-glory stand, or one who knew he would lose regardless. It was the cold, rational understanding that for them to earn victory, they would need to suffer for it. They knew strengths and their weaknesses, not only of their enemy, but themselves.

Victory requires sacrifice, Razkar thought as he surged forward, the old adage of the Taloba army and the Myrian race.

He swung low at Eranis, a feint of a feint, stopping it short, driving it up and then straightening his arm, top of the ax head coming straight at the Akalak's breastbone-

-only for him to knock it away and spin to Razkar's left, covering ground to his side, slashing towards his stomach-

Now!

Razkar's hand lashed out and gripped around the thick, strong wrist, puling it into his side even as he struck. The blade missed its strike, but the fist did not, bladed-edge of the handle biting into his flesh, grinding, warm liquid oozing from it-

Razkar grunted, but rejoiced. One less hand to worry about.

But Eranis still had one.

The Akalak grunted and tried to pull his hand back but Razkar didn't give him the chance, swinging his ax into his side again-

-but his lakan was already moving, blocking it, curved blade stopping the ax head from scraping down the length of it and sliding past towards his stomach.

The two men stood there, immobilized for a moment, both hands full, unable to let go without exposing themselves. Finally, gritting his teeth, Eranis flashed a look down at the Myrian.

"You... can't hold this... forever."

Razkar shook his head minutely, weat now pouring down his face, some of it mingling with the blood as it travelled down his body. But he still managed to smile.

"Don't... need to-"

With that he shifted his hold on the hand ax's bone hilt, using the point where the lakan was blocking the ax head as a pivot. The bottom of the hilt swung down, short and sharp-

-and slamming into the Akalak's crotch.

Eranis grunted again and felt his legs wobble, but with that quick movement the ax was suddenly unstable, and he jerked his lakan up out of it's way, bringing it stabbing down towards Razkar's leg-

-who swung it back and flung his head forward-

-smacking it against the Akalak's chin and sending him reeling back.

Eranis feels blood fill his mouth, coarse and thick and coppery, but the Myrian does not capitalize on his disadvantage. Or, more accurately, cannot. He's on one knee, free hand clasping his bloody side, tired and ax held in a trembling hand...

But he's still not down.

The Akalak rights himself and feels the ache in his crotch that he knows will be worse later; adrenaline alone is keeping the full pain from gripping him. He walks forward gingerly, aware of Turak chuckling smugly to himself from the shade.

"See? Not so fun and serious now, is it?"

Eranis ignores him. He watches as Razkar slowly gets to his feet, more aware now of the swaying motion of the Cuttlefish. He swilled around his mouth... and Razkar gave a slight smirk when he spat out a hefty glob of blood.

"You learn?"

The Akalak cocked and eyebrow and nodded once.

"You use the entire weapon, not just the head. If there had been a spike at the bottom of it, it could easily have caused me a crippling injury. And your... unorthodox use of your cranium?"

Razkar had no idea what that word meant but he grinned, knowing it was referring to his headbutt.

"Very original."

Razkar succeeded in righting himself, blood stemming slightly, but...

"I will need... stop now."

"I will tend to your wound-"

"No, is not bad, just need bandage."

Eranis regarded the Myrian coolly and saw he could not be swayed in this. Beside, he knew the wound: nasty but not gaping, or deep, or infected. Just messy. He sheathed his lakan and stepped forward, hand held out. Razkar grasped it, and gave another small smile.

"You know 'reciprocity', Myrian?"

"No, not know word."

"It means 'doing for one that does for you'. Understand?"

"Yes. This was... rec-er-pros-city?"

The scholar in Eranis quailed at hearing Common so mercilessly and cruelly tortured, but he still managed a smile. Every day, a new lesson, and the understanding they would never end. He nodded, and walked towards his medical kit.

Slowly.

"Oh, yes... I think so."

[Anchor]

Loot Player 1's Find : Skill Points Ax 4 Gladius 1 Dual Wield 1 Teaching 2 Acrobatics 1 Observation 2 Lore Bigger Weapons Want Bigger Targets Razkar and Eranis: Each has their own element Sometimes battles are give-and-take Eranis and Turak: Not So Funny Now Other Stuff Razkar has received a nasty-looking cut to his left side, where a Lakan hilt ahd guard has dug into the skin a bit. The wound is mostly superficial and should have no permanent adverse effects, but it will definitely ache for a long while and the scabbing wound will likely be visible for a long while. Much more going on here. It's always interesting to see you write your solo battles, makes me wonder how you handle PvP. I didn't give you any in 'endurance' since I personally feel it's more of a trait than a skill, but if you'd like it anyway just shoot me a PM and I'll give some to you. Happy writing!