Sharing?! Again?! (Kinneas)

[Bloodfight]

Winter 1st, 512AV The halfblood had decided to stay within the copse of trees he had met the mage creature in many a day ago, when the air was not as crisp, and the water storms from above had seemingly ceased to ransack the land. There now, was a small, shoddyly made camp that looked to be rather well lived in, with a tent the size to fit one person erected, inside there was a bag with a pouch next to it. In front of the tent sat some tools, to be more specific: a crowbar, shovel, and woodsmans axe, as well as a small fire pit with glowing embers still very much alive. Next to the small fire pit was a pile of sticks, ready to be used to feed the fire and to continue keeping it alive for when it was low (like it was now.) Not too far from the copse of trees was a swamp area, Bloodfight had decided to gather some water with his pot to boil on the embers. Getting close to the edge, he dipped the pot into the murky looking water and tried to keep as much of the chunky looking stuff out with his hands (namely bugs, bits and pieces of dirt, even plants which he didn't trust- being mostly a carnivore) and would then pull the pot out. With a sizeable amount of liquid in there, he began to make his way back to his camp, being careful not to slosh his collected liquid out of its strange metal bowl. Walking into his camp, he set the pot down next to the fire pit, and then started to put some sticks into the fire to feed it. Leaving it like that for a bit, Bloodfight started on the task of checking his snares, which he had placed around his camp. Not directly by it, but near it, just close enough so he wouldn't have to go too far from his camp. Making it seem as if his camp was being used, but was now deserted (this was hardly the case.) Moving freely through the grasses which came up taller the farther he got away from his camp, until he was now waist deep, he bent over and began to follow his own scent to find his snares. Following his own scent, he soon came to the first snare and as he checked it, he was quite pleased with what he found: a rabbit. Bloodfight proceeded to unsnare the poor thing, its neck had broken or it had either suffocated from the night before. The halfling couldn't tell very well. Either way, he began to reset the trap; fixing the small tunnel so it wasn't all rustled up, and then unloosening the twine of which the snare consisted of. He replaced the snare where it had been, just enough so another animal could jump through and be his breakfest, lunch, or dinner later. Happy with how he did, he began to make his way to the other snares with his prize, only to be a little dissapointed. The last of his snares seemed to have not been touched, of course that didn't mean there wasn't anything nearby. So he left them to sit, if they didn't catch anything the next time he checked them, he would move them away. Holding the dead rabbit by its soft and furry ears, he proceeded to make his way back to his camp- to find a surprise in it. Bloodfight hunkered in the grasses edge to watch, despite his rather large, but thin frame- he observed the creature rifling through his camp. "Zithanese" "Common" "Pavi" Thoughts

[Kinneas]

It was, if Kinneas wasn’t mistaken, the first of winter. This day was special to him because it marked the day that Miro was born, it was his birthday. Kinneas smiled in remembrance of all the years he had celebrated it with the kid. Though, it quickly faded as a harsh wind blew though the field of grass. He frowned as he rubbed his hands together for warmth, cupping them together and blowing into them. Winter had barely descended upon the land and yet he hated it. The wind seemed to be so much colder without Miro there. Though Kinneas acknowledged that Miro had a mark of Morwen, allowing him to have some tolerance to the cold, it still made him wonder how anyone could enjoy the cold. Enjoy the cold. The concept seemed crazy to him. Kinneas, instead, enjoyed the warmth of a fire, or a hot summers day. In a way he was glad that Miro wasn’t here to ask him for the millionth time why he was shivering. He just didn’t understand Kinneas’ avoidance to the cold. Shaking his head, he had no time to daydream about what has been. He needed to find someplace warm to rest. In the seemingly endless sea of grass there was a small thicket of trees ahead. If nothing else it would provide him with some way to get out of the bone chilling wind that swept the plains every now and then. A perfect spot to camp and to try to find something to eat, nodding, liking the ideas going through his head he headed that way. One cold step after another he strode, thinking about Miros birthday and how sorry he was that he hadn’t returned yet. Silently he promised himself that he would make it up to the boy somehow. He laughed to himself, Miro was no longer the kid that he found years ago, but he was growing up into quite the man. It would be interesting to see exactly how much he grew when he gets to seem him next. The prospect made him happy, and it was then he remembered what he would do, no, what they would do together on his birthday. A tradition of sorts. They would both pray and offer thanks to Morwen for winter and the beauty of the frozen tundra. Yes, he smiled thinking back the first year that the tradition started Miro was so insistent. He only did it to please the kid, but now he was thinking about doing it for a whole different reason. Stopping, he took a moment of silent reflection, the cold wind blowing… Kinneas found it hard to give thanks when he was freezing, and so he didn’t, but continued on his way making note that he would definitely give thanks and continue the birthday tradition when he was, well, a bit warmer. Wading through the grass he smiled as he got closer to the trees. There seemed to be a camp already in place, or at least, there was once upon a time. It seemed abandoned, though with the dreary and clinging snow it could make anything seem gloomy and alone. Alone just like he was. It was weird to be alone after all these years of having a constant shadow, somewhat unnerving. Though Miro did not need to get involved anymore with his business. Stepping into the camp carefully, he looked around to see if anyone was around. The fire was going, and there was a pot of rather suspicious looking water in it. Adding more sticks to the fire to keep it going, he was glad for the warmth that it provided and rubbed his hands near it, feeling the cold melt off of him. Setting his backpack down, he proceeded to mill through the camp. It wasn’t anything too great, but it was a camp, and someone spent time putting it up. He wondered where the person was. He deduced that it couldn’t be more than one or two people based on the rather small-looking tent. Satisfied with looking around, he guessed there was nothing more to do than to sit down. He would wait to see if anyone would come back. It was hard to imagine that the camp was just abandoned. If it came to a fight, well, he had his gauntlets in his pack not too far from him. He didn’t dare put them on, they looked rather menacing themselves. So he just sat there, cross-legged, and closed his eyes taking a deep breath in, and letting it out. He needed some time to relax before he would worry about anything else. A cough came on, and he covered his mouth as he had his fit. He wasn’t in the best of health, but traveling usually took quite the toll on him. Why was he traveling in winter? To reach a certain city of course. He heard that there was a city of warriors somewhere, a place where fighting and martial arts were practiced by about everybody. Inhaling in again he felt the warmth of the fire brush up against him. If there was something he had, it was patience.

[Bloodfight]

Bloodfight watched the human carefully, it was working around his small camp- inspecting it, it had seemed. Nothing was being taken, from what the halfling could tell (as if there was much to take in the first place) so he could only ponder on what the human was about to do. He sniffed the air, taking in the mans scent, how he smelled- it was a grubby, sweaty, grassish snow smell to the halfling. Even the mans coughing had a certain ring to it, that was much clearer in the winter air that seemed to echo. The halfling cursed silently at the noisy human flesh bag and its ailments, it should get out of HIS camp, he didn't have to share with another person again! Edging his way along the camp through the grass, the halfling kept an eye on the human at all times, but being aware of where he was stepping in the grass. He wanted to be as quiet as possible so he could at least get a better view on the human, and then would proceed to ambush him. Making his way more towards the swamp so he would be behind the human, the grass was becoming sparse as the copse became thicker. Transitioning to the woody bushes, he paused, keeping his body still as he had stepped on a twig- making an awfully uncomfortable, and loud snap through the air. Ducking a bit behind the bush, he stared at the human through the bushes and the brush. When all seemed well, and it was as if nothing had ever happened, Bloodfight continued on until he would be behind the human completely and out of sight. He would not tolerate another human in his camp (well, it had been the mage creatures camp before, but when he left, Bloodfight claimed it as his own) as he was unsure of what the humans veiws on Zith would be. He always assumed other, sentient beings, would drive him away with tools of war, swords, daggers, axes, ect, ect- he had no reason to stop believing that now, as it was what happened 90% of the time. How cruel it was, his own father was human, yet humans despised him for his mothers side. It wasn't HIS fault that he was born this way, if he would of had the choice he would have been born a Zith that could fly, and not this pitiful form of halved perfection. Though, he had thoughts of being just human too, perhaps they would accept him better if he didn't look like the 'pests' of the land that raped and pillaged much like barbarians did. Either way, he was cursed to be both of them. Bloodfight focused on the human again, he seemed comfy- that comfort would not last for long as the halfling shimmied his way through the bush very slowly, taking care to move only when he heard louder noises come from the human. "Zithanese" "Common" "Pavi" Thoughts

[Kinneas]

He sat there still basking in the warmth of the fire. Never ever would he get tired of the feeling of warmth bushing against and radiating past him. It was soothing to the body, but not only that but the mind and very spirit as well. It was a welcome and refreshing change to the cold that surrounded him. A nip of air, chill with winter’s breath, would bring him back to reality; that he wasn’t in a nice warm room, safe, sound, and with his loved ones, but out here… Where ever here is, that is. He had been on his way to Riverfall, but he had lost his way, and then ended up here. It’s funny how fate throws one a fork in the road sometimes. Sometimes. Really he was just glad that he had found someplace to rest, even for a little while. Smirking he wondered what the owner of this encampment would think if he could see him now, sitting there all comfortable by the fire. He thought back to the time where he and Miro helped a person exactly in the situation he was in now. Miro, of course, was rambunctious and didn’t like the idea. The kid, back then, was anti-social and seemed to only prefer people he was close to. It took Kinneas quite some time to get close to him, but once that happened, he just opened up. Though it was hard to get him to talk about things that interested him… Back then, the kid was of the mind that Kinneas hated magic, and therefor he tried not to bring up around him. Maybe it was out of respect? Why was he thinking these things now? He laughed, to himself of course. He was alone. Why not be in good company and humor? He continued to get settled around the fire, looking into the flames that danced about consuming everything that was put it in. Fire… in fire, that is where he found Miro. Miro, where are you? ”Morwen, goddess of winter traveling the lands covering it in your frozen beauty,” he whispered and looked up at sky, leaning back on his hands, ”pray that ye watch over young Miro, one of your devoted followers. I’m sure that he is building something in your name right now, and I bet its magnificent. Please, watch over him in this time of ice and be there where I cant.” he said with a smile, looking up at the sky wondering if the goddess could even hear him. Kinneas wasn’t very good at praying, but he was good at living for what the gods want, being their example to point to. He had his faults yes, but he also had discipline and dedication on his side. He was a fighter and that is what he was good at, and with it he will protect those less fortunate and those otherwise outcast from society. He couldn’t believe the way some people treated Miro just because he was a half breed. He guessed that the kid had changed his perspective on things quite a bit, just as Kinne worked to change the kid. Nineteen. That is how old he would be this year. Simply amazing, and he has grown so much. Kinneas loved watching that, and it was even more gratifying looking back on it. He loved Miro for who he was, not what race he was, whatever that would be. He joked a bit in his head. Miro would never hear him say such words though. Then, there it was again, another creak and rustle of the grass behind him. He had heard it a couple times now, but he decided to ignore it, thinking that it would be either the wind or a small animal just passing by. He doubted anything would stay so close to him for so long, he wasn’t marked by the goddess of nature. Has the person returned and stopped seeing him there? He could only wonder. Closing his eyes, he needed to concentrate as he tapped into the divine power that was granted to him by the god Wysar. He needed to stop thinking about Miro and the other day to day worries. Breathing, just breathing he expanded the aura, the invisible wall expanding around him forming a perfect circle around him he concentrated then on feeling. He waited, just like when one was fishing, he was fishing for information, for a feeling of some sort to validate what exactly was behind him. He felt the wind blow again chilling him despite the fires warmth, and he extended not only his sixth sense but all of his senses. One by one he strained them, straining to hear, to feel, to be in tune with the space around him. This was Evantia, this was his personal space, his fifty feet in which he can sense movement within. There, he heard another movement, and to validate he felt movement within his sphere. The tensing of muscles, the straining of someone or something trying to be quiet, trying to go undetected, of someone hiding… Opening his eyes he whirled around in a motion, standing up at the same time. Looking behind him where the source came, he didn’t think, but instead just charged aiming to tackle whatever it was. If they wished him harm then they would have to do better than that…

[Bloodfight]

oocSince this is a fighting thread technically, I won't post in bulks, I'm sorry it took so long for so little. Was on a rampage with my other character. If something doesn't seem right, or if I should change something- please feel free to let me know about the problem. I suck at writing fight threads. Bloodfight was out of the bushes, whatever this human was doing was certainly stupid- he was so relaxed, comfortable. What gave this human the right to waltz right on in to his camp and expect to leave empty handed? The halfling was so dangerously close, he was aiming to attempt and slash the man with his sharp, Zith like claws from behind and prefferably towards his neck and head. The human didn't even seem to suspect until, that is, he stood and turned so suddenly that it took Bloodfight by surprise. What had given Bloodfight away? Had he been too loud? Simply foolish enough to think that he had been going forwards undetected? Slow to react, the halfling felt the force of the body connect with his stomach and sent him toppling backwards to hit the ground. Despite being rather large in frame, he weighed lighter than he looked, all willowy bone, light muscle, and furred skin. The collision with the ground made him see stars, but he was no mere fool- out of reflex he curled hand into a fist and wildly swung out for what seemed to be the mans face and then attempted to grapple with the Human for control, wrestling, until finally they could break apart long enough to regain their footing, with Bloodfight scrambling to be back on his feet once more. Growling maliciously at the human, he slowly began to circle the odd human, arms and hands out at his sides, and slightly upwards, claws facing the man as if he were preparing to grab onto the human when he would come at him. "Zithanese" "Common" "Pavi" Thoughts

[Kinneas]

oocSorry if this post is a little off/rambly. I don’t have that much experience with PvP nor was this post written by inspiration. My muse is killing me here, but I tried! I wanted to move on with the story The man was reacting before he even got a good glimpse of his opponent. The training that he had received drove his reaction and instinct. At first glance this thing that he pitted himself up against looked like it had stalked him. For how long it had watched he had little clue, but that didn't matter. All that mattered now was how frightening it looked. Surely it meant no good will towards him, sneaking up on him like that, and so close too before he noticed. He has definitely been slipping with his training. Though there was no time to think about that now as his own body collided against the creatures, which was surprisingly light for looks. He thought it would have been much harder to tumble this foe, and so he had put a little more power into his launch than he normally would have. The little extra power put both of them on the ground before he knew it. Grimacing at his foe, they rolled and tumbled about each one trying to gain control of the other through a variety of grapples and holds. Having not much experience with really any sort of rough housing or wrestling, and apparently the other lacked such discipline as well, neither of them were really successful of claiming dominance and ending the little brawl then and there. Giving up on that method, eventually he was able to break away from the creature, and both took the chance to regain their footing. The beast snarled and began to circle him. Kinneas was ever mindful of the sharp claws which the thing flashed at him, and his target in mind all he had to do was concentrate and focus. This thing was not going to bring him down. No, he had to see Miro again before he died. He needed to see the kid again. It was one of his only wishes, but now wasn't the time to think such things. Now was the time to fight, possibly for his life. He did not know what ill intentions the thing had planned for him, and so he wasn't going to hold back either. The man watched the furred thing circle him, and with the power that Evantia granted him he could feel the movements of the thing. Every muscle movement of the beast, each tense, each relaxation, every reflex, and just now he was letting that information filter through as he analyzed and sized up his opponent. He was sure that whatever this thing was he was in for a good fight, something that he hadn't had in some time. Maybe this creature will knock some rust from him? Though he was not fool enough to take this situation in light, and although he could sense the movements and to some extent guess the intentions of his attacker didn't mean that he could necessarily win. He had learned that lesson the hard way before. Taking a fighting stance carefully, he moved his feet shoulder width apart, his left foot planted in front of him, leading, while his right was back angling his body making him a somewhat smaller target. His left hand raised, clenched in a fist to about chin height, and his right hand, clenched too, was brought back following the flow of the stance. The right hand was also lower than the left, and eye contact was actively maintained with the creature. Kinneas would move, shuffling in a small circle, pivoting on his right foot, as he watched and read carefully the movements of the black-haired monster. Never before had he ran into such a thing. Part of him was curious as it looked human enough… could it talk? Growls were all he heard so far which he assumed was the things attempt in intimidation. It worked. Really he was quite intimidated by the thing. Its sharp claws and fierce look gave him goose bumps, but it also told him that he had needed extra caution around whatever this thing is. He had no idea what to call it. The circling continued as they both seemed to size up the other, and so Kinneas readied his first strike. Taking a commanding step forward with his right foot, he brought back his right fist as he stepped forward, and using that forward momentum he launched a right jab aiming for what he assumed the creature’s stomach.

[Bloodfight]

oocI had to make some slight adjustments to Bloodfights appearence since the addition of a 'Half Zith' description in the Mixed Blood lore page. >.> and oh boy.. It took me this long to retrieve his muse? Eesh. Many apologies. The fleshbag had entered his territory, that was grounds for immediate death. Bloodfight moved with thoughtful steps, slow and stable, he saw how the human shifted into his own stance. At first he was only testing, sometimes he would step closer and sometimes he would step backwards, distancing himself from the intruder. Not a chime afterwards, he flexed his fingers and moved his arms into a boxing like position, except, this stance the half bloods upper body was slightly turned to the side, with legs spread apart, knees slightly bent for flexibility, hands relaxing just enough to make room for a grapple if there ever would be a chance for one. He growled louder, baring his sharp teeth at the human and watching, looking for any sign of fear. If his attempts of intimidation were working, Blood didn't know. He tensed as the intruder made his first move against Blood, the man was smaller than the half blood himself, quicker naturally, but that didn't mean that he had the upper hand (or did he?) It was either let himself be hit, or take a step to the side to avoid, unfortuantly for Blood when he attempted to move out of the way he received a direct shot, if not slightly curved off his body where the man had at first intended to strike. Pain wafted where Blood had been hit, he felt force shake his insides, cringed as his own techinique began to crumble, but he attempted to grapple onto the mans shoulder with one hand, and the other to his side, and then tilting on his left heel, rotating his own body to fling the man away some how. It was an attempt to throw off (not litterally throw) the intruders center of balance, and throw him away from Bloodfight in hopes of getting the man to the ground. If that didn't work, and the man attacked whilst Bloodfight attempted such a maneuver, the halfling would be utterly defenceless. Not to mention the first hit had already shakened him, he only bit back any pained responses in hopes of not appearing weak, and in turn fueling his own anger to make him continue onwards. "Zithanese" "Common" "Pavi" Thoughts

[Kinneas]

Watching the other closely, Kinneas only faintly smiled as he felt the faint impact of his punch. Although it was not a direct hit, and the blow was softened by his opponents quick reaction time, it was still a hit, it still counted in the mans mind. However, this was not some contest that could be won by delivering an exact amount of blows, no, it was a fight, a real fight with real danger to his life. He needed to keep that in mind, and with that thought the mans expression hardened once more, the confident look he had turning to stone as his eyes and attention moved back to his opponent. The other was moving, flexing and bearing his teeth. It reminded Kinneas of an animal. Yes, of an animal, but more importantly it reminded him of the kid Miro when he had first encountered the boy. Wild, untamed, deadly. However, to Kinneas’ knowledge, this opponent before him was not knowledgeable in any magical arts unlike Miro, but was instead much like himself: an unarmed combatant. It was a shame that he could not reach his gauntlets, especially in the middle of a fight. They would surely end this quick, but then again the man did not wish to kill the other, only to subdue and calm down or possibly scare away. Kinneas, despite all his training, was not the perfect combatant. In fact, there were many flaws in his technique and execution of the moves which could be used against him. In this scenario he found himself being exploited by the others grapple. Whereas his punch had landed, somewhat, and the satisfying impact was felt, he immediately felt the situation begin to turn, and to turn on him. There was a sense of dread within him as he felt his balance be lost. A grunt escaped the man as the ground found him, and he knew that the ground was not a favorable position to be in at any time, especially in a fight. There was a fierceness in Kinneas’ eyes, a firey determination not to lose or to be subdued himself. He was sure that the other was out to kill him, why else would he bother to sneak up on him like that? Attempting to scramble to his feet before he was jumped on or striked the human tried to recover the ground which he had lost. He wondered just how fierce this other was? He actually was enjoying himself despite the immediate danger, this was what he was good at, and it brought him a sense of fulfillment to use his skills how they were intended- to defend. However, he wanted to get in another good punch or two, and he wasn’t giving up. Either on the ground, or back on his feet the man would aim another punch at the half-blood. Relentless could be a word to describe how the man felt at the moment. oocThat is fine. Im glad to RP with you, and that you are back. Here is to another post

[Bloodfight]

Blood, after having of 'thrown' the man to the ground recovered himself mid-flail, retaining a flimsy balance, but one nonetheless. He had his opponent on the ground and that was all that mattered right at the moment, charging forwards he saw how his opponent was getting up, so Bloodfight did what was most logical. He brought both arms to his sides to maintain as much balance as he still could, tittering to either left and right with the suddeness of his own imbalance, standing on one foot and swinging the other into a kick aimed at the mans head- chipped toenails and all, first. It was a rather awkward kick, much like how one would kick a pig-skinned ball whilst playing with other children; and then said child just twirling around with the movement of his kick. If Blood succeeded, he would retreat a few feet, hopping on one foot and planning out his next attack. If Blood failed, and the man blocked his kick, he would still attempt to retreat if at all possible. Claws readying themselves to slash wildly in defence if he were forced to the ground because of the imbalance of his own attack. "Zithanese" "Common" "Pavi" Thoughts

[Kinneas]

What was he doing? He needed to focus, there was no time to think, only to act and react. That is why he has been training almost every day of his childhood practicing his form, punches and kicks, and that why he was marked so long ago. It was time to put his training to action, just act and react, and that is exactly what he did. In those moments of ‘falling’ he realized that his own thoughts were distracting him from the situation at hand, and that he needed to just let his training take in. That is what he did. The Evantia aura allowed him to feel his opponents movements, and he could feel the leg aimed towards his head as he tried to get up, the kick was all but perfect, and left his attacker off-balance. He could feel that too, and he could take advantage of that fact. Reacting Kinneas moved his forearms up to protect his face, and as the leg of his attacker made contact with Kinneas’ arms, he reached a hand to grab the leg firmly, and gave it a sharp tug forward while the man sweeped one of his own legs to hit the others leg, the one which his opponent was balancing on, aiming it at knee in an attempt to make the other crumple to the ground. If the other was knocked off of balance Kinneas would take the chance to gain the upper hand. Taking a few struggling blows from the half-breed, the thrashing one producing cuts and scrapes from his sharp Zith-like claws. Attempting to climb atop of the person, and mount him, if the guy was successful with that then he would cock back his fist and aim a punch for the face in an attempt that the strike would knock a bit of sense into him. If the first one lands then he would draw back his fist again and aim another punch at the face, and another.