Completed [Fighters Pit] Kisetukai, The Power Magnet

[Sigrun Dominic]

"Now..." Sigrun stared at Razkar with darkened eyes, her gazed laced with severe intimidation as his voice dipped into a dangerously low tone. The young blonde had sheathed her sword and gingerly kept it to the side of the pit, her clammy hands tossing the dull practice cutlass from her left hand to her right, testing the weight as the warrior before her did so. "We start with you defense. I not go to fast, you say... Rusty. So, I not be too sharp, yes?" She stopped and jumped backwards, however, at the sight of his four quick thrusts towards her direction. She'd nearly dropped her blade. He was a fast one; so fast, that it made the blonde doubt the effectiveness of her thin, lithe form in terms of swiftness. "I guess if we're going to make this work," she ran her free hand through her hair, "I'm going to need to calm down." Chuckling, she took a deep breath and closed her eyes momentarily, her mind focusing on one thing and one thing only: survival. More than anything, presence of mind was important, as the girl needed to constantly rely on not only her instincts, but also her mind's ability to quickly form decisions and act upon them with ease. She was rusty, after all, can't let anything go to fate's hands. It was all her. She wasn't one to make the first move, no. And thank goodness for Razkar, he initiated the first attack, sprinting towards her at almost lightning speed, or so she'd describe. Knees bent, eyes focused intently upon the warrior before her, she tightened her grip upon the raggedy cutlass and successfully blocked his first attack. And then the classic twist; her blade spun along his in an intrepid dance, quickly pushing it to the side in order to get an undisturbed lash at him… But the impact of her parry proved to be too much, and she had no time to move and retaliate when Razkar lifted his free hand and aimed for her jaw… And stopped inches before her jaw. Sigrun's breath caught in her lungs, her body still and frozen at the sight of how close he'd been to wrecking her face. She sighed and slowly moved away from the warrior as he himself retracted his hand. "Good grief," she chuckled breathlessly. "First lesson." Sigrun watched as he began to circle her. She mimmicked his movements, imitating the way he moved his feet, the left and then the right; as soon his ankles were nearly touching, he would move. "Things male human did not learn. All are weapons. Arms and legs. Hand with sword and hand without sword. Everything can hit. So use everything... and expect enemy to use." Sigrun stared at his sturdy knuckles, his strong knees and elbows, and then back at his face. This man meant serious business, and it showed. It was as if his bones were trained to withstand the severe pressure of being used as weapons themselves. She nodded, and as if that was a signal for him to resume their little sparring match, he lunged towards her, his sword brandished, thrusting towards her torso. "Defense against a thrust," she reminded herself quickly, "push the blade away, then retaliate." She brought her right leg back as she moved her torso to the side, away from his blade, as she brought forward the cutlass with both hands, parrying his thrust… … Without missing a beat, she applied pressure to the opposing blade, pushing it away from her… … And managed enough strength to lash out a diagonal swing at his torso.

OOCBit of a short post, just to get us started I suppose! I kind of settled with a variation of how you write your battle moves, I hope you don't mind. Feel free to give me more pointers, I'd really love them.

[Razkar]

Now, this is more like it!

Barely three swipes in and already the female had him on the defensive. Razkar was impressed. She twisted to her side and bought her blade across and clashing against his. Not perfect - still two separate movements, he noticed, not one smooth reaction - but very effective.

Because the impact from the larger, heavier cutlass knocked his gladius away, his momentum still pushing him forwards and towards her, but now his own blade was nearly at his side, exposing himself-

-perfect for when she grasped her blade with both hands and backhanded towards his chest.

His gnosis burned. Reactions rose and fell in a moment. Too close to duck, blade too far to counter, punch or kick won't stop it-

Spine straining and creaking with the effort, Razkar bent backwards and to his right as far as he could, almost at a forty-five degree angle, robbing Sigrun of her target as his torso lurched out of the way. But she was fast, she reacted quickly-

Good! Smart!

-and slashed at him again, double-handed as before, horizontal this time aimed at his navel-

-forcing Razkar to keep going in the direction he was leaning, feet moving quickly over the sand, blade swinging mere inches before his chest.

But harder. More force behind it, and it was already heavy. Harder to control, and she swung, wider that last time, until her body had twisted, almost sideways to him-

-he crouched and half-spun and lashed out with his left foot, hammering it neatly into the back of her right kneecap. It jerked forward, body structure damning as her balance went to the hells and she yelped with pain, collapsed down to one knee-

-blade already swinging back to him, backhanded-

-but Razkar had the advantage that time, metal slicing into metal and his parry angled her cutlass upwards, over his, over both their heads as he closed the gap-

-slashed down diagonally towards he throat, her own blade deflected and still over her head.

Silence, broken only by their labored breathing. And Goddess, it was labored! Wonderful! The Myrian grinned wider at the girl, though he realized after that it would mean she would have had a rather... panoramic view of his teeth, all filed to points for better use in a melee. But his eyes were not that of a piranha or tiger: they were of a young man thoroughly enjoying himself.

"Very good!" He stood slowly, withdrawing his blade and stepping back. "React well. And use cutlass. It is good weapon, keep distance and fine for slash. Also, your parry? Good. Best way to knock enemy blade away-" he demonstrated what she did again, miming his thrust going from perfectly... to exposing his stomach with his weapon off to the side "-and leave chest open for slash. One-two."

He demonstrated the simple movement, observing her moves as much as she had been observing him. He'd felt it before, when they first clashed, that pressure she was exerting when she blocked his strike, trying to push him away, he thought...

No. Trying to open your guard and then your ribcage.

"But know..." he said with that same smile, wiggling his bare toes "... to watch all of enemy. Lucky you not a male. Would have put foot somewhere other than knee..."

Razkar was not so coarse as to laugh at his own joke (he wasn't quite that dozy or drunk yet), but his eyes were twinkling black orbs in his head now, rushed and excited from combat in a way so different to his spar with Kisetukai. That was... serious. Well, so was this, but put two young males in a ring and old, primal urges come to the fore.

But with this female, it was... an education. For both of them.

"Now," he said once she got back to her feet, settling back into his defensive crouch, "You attack. Come at me." There was a moment of alarm across her face but he ignored it. She had to overcome that sooner or later. "Oh, and what is name, please? Cannot spend who time calling you "female"..."

[ooc=OOC]Like I said in my post, good work! Looking pretty good so far. Just do me a favor? Sometimes I have a tendency to overplay both my skill AND the person's I'm sparring with. Do watch out for that for me. But, for now, you're staying within your skill level and using your weapon well. Keep it up!

[Sigrun Dominic]

The heat was only truly getting to her then. An amused grin graced the young blonde's lips as the pair sparred, finding herself to be doing quite a lot better than she'd expected. She could feel the burn from not only her skin, but her arms and legs; familiar muscles awakening from their long slumber. She was definitely going to be sore tomorrow. She was gaining more and more confidence as she managed to match the warrior's moves with her own, observing him as carefully as she could, absorbing his footwork and arm movements whenever possible, until she found herself off-guard and eventually being aimed at the throat. "Shykes," she breathed out. It was only then did she realize that she was panting. "Very good!" Razkar exclaimed. The young girl blushed as she lowered her sword, eyeing him shyly. "React well. And use cutlass. It is good weapon, keep distance and fine for slash. Also, your parry? Good. Best way to knock enemy blade away and leave chest open for slash. One-two." Sigrun was nodding continuously, her lips flatlined as she listened intently to the warrior's words. His Common was quite broken, and while that was a bit of a limitation for him in terms of his teaching, Sigrun managed to understand what he meant. Her eyes followed him as he reenacted a few of her moves, her smile growing on her face once more as she watched him. She'd then realized something that she had done wrong. At least, she thought she did. She had exposed what was arguably the most vital region of her body; her torso, just as she'd made Razkar do when she had pushed his blade to the side. When Razkar moved, mimmicking her previous movements, he had left his stomach unguarded, the way she had. Sigrun's lips parted for a moment as she wondered to herself how she was meant to protect those regions while attacking. "No," she thought to herself, "it isn't that I have to constantly keep it protected the whole time..." "It's that I need to minimize the possibilities of it being open for attack." It was all in the assessment of the opponent's blade, she decided. Wherever the blade was directed was what mattered when she would be deciding on her angle when she retaliates. It was a difficult thing to do in a fast-acting situation such as sword fighting, but that was why she needed to practice quick thinking. Of course, there also needed to be a balance between letting oneself rely on impulse and instincts, and careful calculation. "But know..." Razkar smiled, continuing his hands-on lesson. The hard part was finding the balance. "... to watch all of enemy. Lucky you not a male. Would have put foot somewhere other than knee..." Sigrun snorted, staring at the tattooed man as he guffawed, and then let out a hearty laugh herself. He was a good teacher, one who didn't let language get the better of him, as he spoke Common with confidence despite his lack of fluency. It was rather endearing. "Oh, I definitely am glad," she shook her head, raising her eyebrows as she looked towards the sandy ground and then back up at the man, "I can't imagine how painful hat would be." Snickering, she twirled the cutlass around with her right hand, her other hand reaching over to pat the knee that Razkar had been referring to. She could sense the beginnings of an injury, but simply hopede that it was a mere strain that would fade later on. "Now," the warrior began as he went into a defensive stance. Sigrun's smile faded once more as she watched him. "You attack. Come at me." Her eyes widened. Could she really? "Oh, and what is name, please? Cannot spend who time calling you "female"..." Another snicker. "It's Sigrun," she blurted out, realizing only after a few seconds that she had introduced herself by her first name, when she usually preferred using her last, and even found it difficult to tell others her full name on some occasions. Only a few people had the liberty of calling her by her first name. She looked at him intently, idling for a moment as her eyes conducted a careful assessment of the expression on his face. She then flashed him a soft, gracious smile. He deserved it. "Call me Sigrun." Resuming a fighting stance, the young blonde eyed the warrior's blade, the way his feet were arranged, and how his muscles were tensed. She took a deep breath and calmed her mind. With her right foot in front the other, she burst forward, arranging her sword so that it was parallel to her torso in a diagonal formation… … Until she was near enough to produce one horizontal slash and another diagonal cut at his torso, her eyes darting from his blade to his legs… … And finally, utilized her basket hilt by aiming her metal-covered fist at his shoulder, ensuring that at the same time, her blade was across her chest, blocking any potential slashes.

[Razkar]

Strike where your enemy is weak... or injured.

Razkar was seriously starting to wonder if the nervous and demure facade this "Sigrun" maintained was just that: a facade. She was learning, she was watching, and she was inventive. More than that, when she hammered the metal guard of her cutlass into his bleeding shoulder, he was reminded of those words from his Taloba instructors in a flash of pain.

The slashes he had been expecting, and parried both, though with the first he had to slide back to avoid the long, swinging blade. The second he pushed away, much as she did with his, but she jerked it back before he could capitalize-

-then twisted the blade as she pulled her arm back as if or a punch, blade diagonally downwards across her chest-

-unleashing a right hook at his right shoulder, where Kisetukai's barbed gauntlet had gouged four rivulets of blood into his flesh.

The Myrian snarled with pain but fought it back, letting his body sway backwards and to the side, the impact of her punch hard but not scrambling him-

-his left arm striking out with an underarm blow at Sigrun's right side, slamming into her kidney and making her yelp-

-cutlass slashing across him out of instinct-

A louder howl. A hiss of disbelief from the watching crowd... as the two fighters separated and a faintly weeping red line was revealed across the top of Razkar's chest.

Sigrun's jaw dropped as she saw it, and her shock was further compounded by the look on the Myrian's face. She expected pain, anger, fury... but instead she saw the high eyebrows and sparkling eyes of one pleasantly surprised. He rolled his shoulders, flexed his chest and gritted his teeth at the pain... but he kept smiling.

"You... are full of surprise. Very good! Use enemy weakness! See where they have wound, and make wound worse." He chuckled and looked at his shoulder, now discolored with a recently-birthed bruise and bleeding even more. "And last cut? You react fast. Very good..."

Razkar cocked his head to one side and seemed to... study her. Reaching a decision in that savage brain... before nodding firmly to himself, as if in silent agreement.

"Time to make game higher."

His gnosis throbbed at the back of his neck and he moved in faster towards her, giving her just long enough to get hr guard up, aiming a horizontal slash at her left-

-only for it to stop halfway, a feint-

-slashing diagonally downwards to her leg as her cutlass swiped out to block his first blow, now not coming at all, gladius flashing towards her left leg-

-but he was stymied again, her leg sweeping back and away from him, cutlass backhanding towards him again as he closed and finished his blow-

The Myrian smiled with feral victory, and taught her something new.

Both Razkar's hands moved at once. His left darted out diagonally and his open palm smacked into the bottom of her sword hand, missing the cutlass itself but stopping the backhanded swipe-

-as his right hand, clutching his gladius, over on his left now after his missed swipe at her leg, backhanded diagonally, but not the blade, the hilt itself aimed at her stomach-

-slamming into it hard, leaving her breathless with a whoof! of escaping air-

"Not hesitate." She heard the words even as his dark body kept moving. "In battle, fight is over when enemy is dead, not down."

His gladius jerked down behind her already-bruised kneecap and he pulled forwards, flat of the blade forcing her leg forward and up-

-sending her toppling back-

-and when the impact on the sand dulled from her, she blinked and found the Myrian with his gladius leveled at her throat. He nodded, not smiling now but his eyes were... content.

"You react well. But when plan goes bad, you get more hit, that is when truly test. Then must get vicious. Fight dirty."

He straightened up and let her get up by herself. This was a fighting pit, after all, not a kindergarten. As she shakily raised herself, Sigrun saw his neck crack side to side with two lightning snaps and he nodded, gladius ready.

"Again..."

[Sigrun Dominic]

OOCBeen having a little bit of a writer's block until now and I hadn't realized how long I'd delayed this thread. I'm so sorry!

Sigrun could practically feel the blood gush out of the warrior's bruised shoulder, the metal of her basket hilt sinking into his broken skin as she delivered the punch. The young blonde's eyes widened as she realized what she'd done, quickly backtracking, only to find that she'd managed to graze Razkar's chest. She stared at the man's face and expected him to scream at her, to be angry with her, but he looked nothing but impressed, just as the few people who were watching from above were. Her parted lips struggled to form an apology, but she found her throat locked by genuine astonishment. "I-I..." she trailed off. "Am so petching sorry," she thought, furrowing her brows. The warrior's shoulder injury looked relatively worse now, and it was only through that observation did the pain in the girl's knuckles register. "You... are full of surprise. Very good! Use enemy weakness! See where they have wound, and make wound worse." The young blonde winced as she did her best to casually tuck the blade under her arm and massage her sore knuckles. The impact that the metal made on her hand during the punch was kicking in quite bad. She needed gauntlents. "And last cut? You react fast. Very good..." She looked up at him with squinted eyes, nodding demurely with a crooked smile. She cracked her knuckles and blew on them, giving each one a quick kiss before holding onto her cutlass once more. "Time to make game higher." His words were a hair-raiser. Sigrun scanned the warrior's stance, hoping to figure out his next move by observing which of his muscles were the most flexed, but found it difficult to assess him properly. She resumed her fighting stance, eyes fixated on the area between his equipped hands and his bent knees. As he lunged towards her, his sword aimed for the leftmost portion of her body, she quickly pivoted her foot and prepared to defend herself, only to find his blade turning elsewhere. What sort of move was that?! She gasped, eyes darting over to where his blade was going next, her reflexes losing to the sudden fear that overcame her. She managed to move her foot away from his incoming attack, turning instead to swipe away his sword, only for it to aim for her left leg. She managed, although barely, to push his atack away once more. A triumphant smile played upon the girl's lips once more, but found that there was no time to celebrate as Razkar continued on with their duel. His hand had wound its way over to her sword, effectively stopping her from finishing an attack. He was at it again. Sigrun eyed his gladius, focusing hard on the direction in which his blade was going in the hopes of parrying his next move, only to find that it was going somewhere far from her. Because he was aiming the hilt at her instead. There was nothing she could do to stop him from slamming the pommel onto her stomach, pushing her backwards and causing her the yell loudly. "Not hesitate." She was too busy recovering from the blow to register his words. "In battle, fight is over when enemy is dead, not down." She looked up, hoping to find his eyes or at the very least, his weapon, but only found herself toppling down towards the ground as the flat side of his blad tucked behind her knees and tripped her backwards. As she blinked away the dust that spawned from her fall, she inhaled sharply at the sight of his gladius aimed at her throat. "You react well. But when plan goes bad, you get more hit, that is when truly test. Then must get vicious. Fight dirty." As the warrior moved away from her, his sword lowered, Sigrun gently eased herself up and gathered her thoughts together. Her body was already beginning to ache, her muscles begging for a break as she struggled to stretch the tension away. "Again..." She turned to face him just as he was cracking his neck. Sigrun narrowed her eyes and resumed her fighting stance once more. She took more time to observe him in this round. She'd already had a taste of fighting dirty when she'd hit him where it hurt, and while it left her feeling guilty, it was quite effective. The young blonde took a deep breath, sighing deeply. A while ago the warrior had made a move and then quickly retracted it to make a new one, as if he'd faked the former in order for the latter to come unexpectedly. Sigrun decided to give it a go. With one more deep breath, the young blonde was prepared for another go. Lunging toward Razkar, she aimed a diagonal slash at his injured shoulder… … Only to stop halfway as she lifted her left leg and aimed a fierce kick at the warrior's abdomen, all the while holding her sword diagonally in front of her… … Once the kick had registered, she hoped to use the man's backwards stagger to her advantage by moving to the side and aiming her hilt at one side his chest… … Until she was parallel to his body and able to tuck one of her legs underneath his in an attempt to trip him.

[Razkar]

Razkar saw the feint coming. Well, that isn't completely accurate...

Only true masters of combat see a feint when an opponent makes their move. Everyone else just anticipates them, and Razkar had ample reason to do so. He knew the female had watched him almost fall at Kisetukai's hands due to a feint, and he had executed one of his own on her just moments ago.

This female learns, she adapts... and she tries her own.

So when the blade slashed towards his shoulder, Razkar felt himself tense, gladius raised to block it but eyes flickering, muscles expectant, almost twitching with-

Down!

-his free hand snapped out and grasped her ankle as her leg jerked up, aiming at his abdomen, twisting away and to his right, breaking contact with the cutlass.

The female wobbled on her one remaining foot and slashed backhanded at him, blow reeking of desperation, but Razkar leaned back, avoiding the blow, pulling her forward by the leg and yet more off balance-

-planning in a blink to let go of the leg but keep his hand up, slam it into her stomach and finish her with-

Restrain yourself!

The voice roared in his head and Razkar blinked... longer than was good for him.

There was a flash of metal and the hilt of that cutlass impacted onto him again, metal guard like an over sized knuckleduster as she punched out at his chest. Razkar staggered back but the female backed away, too, intercepted feint making her wary...

They circled, the Myrian frowning, flashing a glance upwards at the hooded figure. But no... no, that was not it. His gnosis did not burn, their connection was still indistinct... or was it? Could he be some sort of mage, speaking in his head? Or...

You know damn well what it was. She wounded your precious male pride and now you're fighting harder than she possibly can. You said you would teach, not brutalize her!

The blonde human gulped as Razkar narrowed his eyes in anger, but it was not directed at her. He... relied, on that voice, to an extent. He knew it was something like a conscience, a voice of reason that he often required. Razkar knew nothing of multiple personalities and mental disorders, but if you explained such to him, he would still have disagreed with you.

I'm not a voice in your head. I'm your voice in your head.

He relaxed into his fighting stance again... but shifted it slightly. He grinned quickly, trying to drain some of the tension from the female's face... and tossed the gladius to his left hand.

"Enemy may not just use right. May use left. Or both. So, train that way, too."

Style almost reversed, he covered the gap between them in a few steps, tufts of sand blown upwards by his feet, raising his gladius and thrusting it at her, knowing she would parry-

-knocking it to one side, opening him up-

-but he went with it, in that same direction, sidestepping around her and denying her the easy path of her blade to his torso that her return strike should offer her. If the blade was in his right, maybe she could... but...

"Move in!" He barked as he slashed at her side, cutlass singing through the air again to block, but only just this time. His strikes were becoming faster now, and he wasn't giving her time to counter-attack. "Or make space! But do not let enemy have all attacks!"

Their blades met again as he thrust at her crotch and she parried him, but no soon had metal struck metal that his short sword was withdrawn, twisting, twirling in his hand as if it was nothing-

-reversing his grip-

-holding the gladius like a dagger now-

-bursting forwards and stabbing down at her from above-

-her cutlass jerking up horizontally to block the blow-

-and with a thud of flesh on flesh, his hand struck out and closed around her throat. He didn't squeeze. The female - no, Sigrun, remember? - was nervous enough and he didn't want to make it worse. He smiled, savoring her discomfort in some small, guilty way, but still "teaching".

"Not get used to one way of fight, too. Weapon can always change in hand. We are close, too. Can use hands, fight dir-"

With a determined grunt, Sigrun proved his point for him, lashing out again with her foot at his groin-

-only for his knee to jerk sideways and deflect it, foot hitting his thigh, making him grunt and jump back lightly, nodding his approval.

"Good. Now..." he reversed his blade back to it's regular grip, slashed it through the air a few times... then settled in a new stance. Sideways to her, his left side, gladius held straight out "... again."

[Sigrun Dominic]

Sigrun struggled to maintain her focus and balance as she felt the warrior's hand grasp her ankle and manage to dodge her attack aimed at his stomach. Gasping, she attempted to land a blow at him despite her unbalanced state, but failed as expected when the tattooed man leaned back, pulling her with him. Sigrun bit her lip, stifling a yell as he nearly slammed his hand onto her stomach as he released her leg. She managed to utilize her basket hilt once more, defending herself against his attack by landing a weak punch at his chest. Razkar staggered backwards, giving the young blonde the opportunity to retreat farther away from him in order to better assess the state of their duel. She eyed him carefully, fear suddenly creeping into her at the sight of his stern expression. The fight was becoming a lot more intense and a lot more rough by the minute, and it was raising her concern. She watched as the terse look on his face slowly dissolved into a grin. "Petch," she thought, sighing heavily, "don't let this be my dying day." She raised her guard at the sight of him transferring his gladius from his right to his left hand. Raising an eyebrow at him, he responded to her silent question. "Enemy may not just use right. May use left. Or both. So, train that way, too." She pursed her lips, wearing an incredulous look on her face. Did he expect her to do the same? It wasn't possible. The young blonde wasn't proficient enough to use her other hand. Was she? She had no time to decide. Razkar was lunging at her, his gladius raised. Sigrun quickly parried his attack, knocking his sword to the side in order to leave his torso defenseless, only to have him move to the side, obscuring her targeted region. "Move in!" Razkar shouted, causing Sigrun to flinch as she struggled to block his attacks. He was moving quicker now, leaving her unable to counterattack. "Or make space! But do not let enemy have all attacks!" Slash, cut, block. Slash, cut, block. Sigrun could barely register the moments where she could've put in an attack, her cutlass scarcely defending her against the warrior's quickened attacks. Her heart was racing, the rush of blood eminent in her flushed cheeks and burning skin. Time seemed to speed up, so much so that the young blonde did not even manage to see how Razkar's hand had managed to clutch her throat, squeezing lightly. "Not get used to one way of fight, too. Weapon can always change in hand. We are close, too. Can use hands, fight dir-" Desperation flooded the girl's body, creating a dull ache in her chest as she struggled to assess her next move. She needed to get out of his grip. Immediately, she raised her leg and jerked it forward to kick the warrior away, and when he had jerked his leg away, she managed to land the attack on his thigh. Razkar jumped backwards, his hands finally nowhere near the young girl's neck or body. Grunting, Sigrun raised her free hand and wrapped her fingers around her neck, massaging her burning skin as she stared at Razkar with a steely gaze, as if all her determination had condensed themselves into her irises. "Good. Now..." he reversed his blade back to it's regular grip, slashed it through the air a few times..." There was no time for small-talk, no time for her to comment on his skill in teaching. The young blonde only had the luxury to learn, to experiment, and to develop. She kept both her hands upon her cutlass this time, assuming her fighting stance as she looked at him carefully. "I have been aiming at his torso and shoulder's all this time," she thought, "at this point, it's all he's been expecting." She bought herself more time to think as she began to circle him, to which he followed suit whilst assuming a defensive stance. "He'll also expect a feint," she eyed the manner in which he held his gladius, "he'll expect to see everything he'd already taught me." "So the answer is to mix it up." She tried her best to maintain a straight face and consistent movement, up until the point where she narrowed into the warrior's neck, aiming a thrust at space between his collarbone… … Quickly expecting him to parry the attack, she quickly responded with a sidestep towards his injured shoulder, aiming a slash at his gash and a kick to his pelvis… … Grunting, she tried her best to land a few blows to his chest with her elbows, albeit shakily, as she prepared her feet in the event that she would have to move away from the man when he retaliated.

[Razkar]

Razkar didn't quite know what to expect next, and that realization thrilled him more than he cared to admit. It was clear from her stance and her strikes that this blonde human, younger and smaller than he, was not his equal. But she was learning, wasn't she? Not just the thrusts and parries... but the mentality.

Be different. Be unexpected. Come from the shadows and lightning from a clear sky.

She came on quick, leading with a thrust high between his shoulder blades. Impressed and surprised in equal measure by her nerve, he stepped back and slashed his gladius across himself, knocking the blow away and sidestepping-

-but she was already reacting, not letting him snatch her initiative away, slashing down at his wounded shoulder.

Razkar didn't panic, but he knew many would have... and that was the point. "Good!" He grunted as he knocked her cutlass up and away from his bleeding shoulder. "Make enemy think on wound! Make him take mind off-"

Her kick slammed into his pelvis and Razkar found out what a nice, thick meal of crow tasted like. He bit down hard to keep the yelp of pain from the air, steps back becoming a stagger to the stunned murmur from the spectators-

-which became a definite ripple when a half-desperate elbow from her cocked arm glanced off the cut on his chest and made him growl, clutching at the red line.

Sigrun didn't push her luck, and he approved anew as she danced away from him hurriedly, guard up. Breathing a little heavier now, Razkar gave her a wary smile and nodded.

"You learn fast, Mistress Sigrun."

She did, and the warrior's approval shone through his fanged smile and dark eyes, and she could see it was real. But her shaky smile fell when he tossed his training blade to one side and cracked his muscles, face taking on an ecstatic quality...

But he was remembering as much ad deciding. Remembering another female with fire and steel within her, on the deck of a ship at the Anchorage Flotilla, proving herself to him and making him, slayer of men and Dhani and Akalak, raise his own stakes to make it a worthy challenge.

Same thing. New scenery.

"Now... I go without iron." Her face crumpled almost comically and he spoke as she started to shake her head, chuckling as if it was a light-hearted dance they were embarking on. "Not worry, Sigrun. Must make for challenge or train has no point. Not just train you. Train me, too."

The Myrian twisted from side to side, cracked his neck... shoulders... knees and knuckles, even his jaw... then he cocked an eyebrow.

"Ready?"

He didn't wait for an answer, and the second her lips parted he was on her. Razkar came in fast, zigzagging from left to right, coming low so his greater height was no longer an issue for him. Out of instinct she slashed wide, only for him to sidestep, arms spread wide, stomach tucked in, blade missing-

-slamming a fist into her kidney before she could attempt a backhand blow, making her wince with pain and back up-

-keeping up with the movement and momentum and direction of his punch, spinning with his body and aiming a kick at her side-

-but it didn't connect, cutlass slamming back towards him instead-

-and Razkar's head snapped down, back bending and cracking as he bent nearly double, blade passing over his head-

-left hand darting out before it had stopped, grasping around her wrist, staying the blade it held-

-right arm snapping out at her chest, palm out-

-slamming into her breastbone and knocking her body back and her wind out.

Razkar suppressed a smile as she staggered back, panting and choking, circling her slowly like a wolf around a lamb. Now he felt no need for mercy or restraint. She had a weapon; he did not. If he forced her to be as nasty as she needed to be, she would make short work of him.

Yeah, and you'll get sliced up. Good plan.

"Victory require sacrifice," he said, intoning the words with a religious solemnity, which among his people, they most certainly were. "So say Goddess-Queen. Pain is sacrifice. Work is sacrifice. Blood is sacrifice. Give all..." he spread his arms and grinned "... and take victory."

[Sigrun Dominic]

"Good! Make enemy think on wound! Make him take mind off-" He was effectively defending himself against her attacks so far, but found himself stumped at the kick that had wound its way onto his pelvis, causing him to stagger backwards. Her elbow jab managed to graze the cut on his chest, eliciting a growl from the warrior just as she quickly moved backwards, away from her opponent. She quickly assumed a defensive stance, panting heavily as she mirrored Razkar's smile with one of her own. "You learn fast, Mistress Sigrun." "Th-thank you," she responded meekly, giving him a short bow with a tilt of her head. "Now... I go without iron." Her smile faded, her eyes following his gladius as it made for the sandy ground with a muted thud. Her head jerked over to face him with a confused look on her face. The warrior merely chuckled. "Not worry, Sigrun. Must make for challenge or train has no point. Not just train you. Train me, too." He stretched, bending his neck and arms from side to side, twisting them. Sigrun prepared herself for his incoming attacks with much more fear than before; something told her that a man of his kind was more dangerous when allowed to fight with merely his hands. "Ready?" the warrior raised an eyebrow at her. He was like a flash of lightning, barely giving her any time to register his words as he closed in on her, moving to the left and to the right, crouching low like an animal. Sigrun staggered backwards, slashing randomly in front of her, missing his body entirely. "Shykes," she thought with horror, eyes wide and mouth parted as she struggled to keep her burning lungs from failing her. She struggled with her body, suddenly unsure of how to move it or where to put it in order to defend herself from his hands. He successfully landed a blow to the side of her stomach, causing her to yelp and flail her cutlass, which unfortunately missed him again. Instead, the blade managed to block a kick that was meant to be delivered to her side, an attack that would've probably been fatal to the young girl. He was moving so quickly, much more quickly now that he no longer had the burden of his sword in his hands, and Sigrun was all the more concerned about the outcome of their duel. Razkar ducked, narrowly evading another one of Sigrun's panic-stricken slashes. As he did so, he managed to grab her wrist with his left hand, with his right shand slamming into her chest, practically deflating her lungs. Sigrun took three wobbly steps backwards, more than ready to take a seat on the ground as she watched Razkar with blurred eyes. Her vision was failing her, and it was obviously due to exhaustion. He was circling her now, his lips twitching to the sight of her attempting to recover her breathing. It was like she'd forgotten how to use her lungs. "Victory require sacrifice," the warrior said. Sigrun eyed him with interest, her hand pressed against her chest as she followed his every movement with a nervous intensity. "So say Goddess-Queen. Pain is sacrifice. Work is sacrifice. Blood is sacrifice. Give all..." he spread his arms out, as if he were speaking to everyone, and not just her. "...and take victory." Sigrun grinned, genuinely at awe with the man's words. Casually, she plopped herself onto the sandy ground and sighed heavily. She was panting far too much to continue, and was hoping that the warrior wouldn't mind that she rest, or at the very least, end their duel and save the rest of his lessons for another day. "Goddess-Queen?" she inquired, as she struggled with her labored breathing and rapidly beating heart. She had her back curved, her knees bent before her with her elbows resting over them. She rubbed her hands along her arms in an attempt to lessen the burning sensation that plagued them, but it did not help even a little bit.

[Razkar]

"Goddess-Queen?"

Razkar felt a swell of anger and disappointment as her feet finally lowered Sigrun to the sand, elbows propped on her knees, blade at ease. But at the mention of Myri, his eyes softened and he found himself surprised anew.

Who ever figured you for a missionary, Razkar?

"Blessed Myri," he said with reverence, squatting down opposite her and brushing the eye-like tattoo on his forehead out of instinct, "Goddess of War, Battle and Victory, Eternal Queen and Mother of Myrians." He smiled abruptly and tapped that tattoo again. "She see all. See her son, Razkar, in barbarian lands."

Razkar's words became softer, to her surprise. There was a respect there, a connection that spoke of true loyalty. Unconsciously he felt the back of his neck, the gnosis pulsing there softly, a constantly reminder of what he was and who he owed that to.

"Goddess-Queen not like many other. Not in... heaven, or other place that is not world. She live. She rule. She sit on black throne in Taloba and guide children." The warrior swelled with sheer pride and placed a hand over his chest. "I have seen. She bless me with mark... what she does with those worthy..."

On that word Razkar's eyes flickered up to that enigmatic figure in the hood, who hadn't changed position (nor, apparently, expression ) the entire spar. He watched carefully for some kind of reaction... and couldn't see one. But whatever the figure was there for and whatever his connection to Myri, the interest was mutual.

He hadn't left, after all.

"Well..." he said with that definite note of finality recognizable the world over, like one thing had ended and he was tidying it up with words "... you train well? I hope so. But, one more thing-"

There was a blur before the female and Razkar's hand struck out again. Half-speed, though; she truly had worked hard and only now did he see what the exertion had cost her. Sigrun's already-brusied breastbone creaked in agony as she was knocked back, cutlass coming up-

-his hand already around her neck again, other hand wrapped around her sword hand's wrist... staring down at her...

"Enemy not always wait for fight to fight you. Enemy not always on battle field or bang chest and challenge. Enemy will attack when you turn back. When he smile at you and say he is friend. Always keep eye open, mistress..."

Razkar smiled crookedly as he released her and got to his feet, taking a few steps back and bowing respectfully... without taking his eyes off her.

"... world is full of men like me. If you get chance, be as cold and bad and forget honor for fight." His words would have tasted of bitterness, but there was a subtle difference there. It was wisdom... knowledge, seasoned and earned through fights and brawls and battles outweighing his comparatively young age. "Shyke will only get Mistress Sigrun killed. I hope I see you again."

With that, the Myrian's business with the human was concluded, at least as far as he was concerned. He turned to the Myrian female who'd been waiting patiently by the wall of the pit the entire time, arms crossed. Fresh wounds on his skin, Razkar deigned not to notice them until he had taken in her with in, slow movement of his head.

No piercings or tattoos. Barbarian clothes. But her eyes were the same smoldering, challenging coals of his people. They just did not burn quite as bright as those stoked in the jungle proper.

"Talk or train, mistress?" He said simply, voice blunt but oddly respectful. She was, after all, a female born of Myri, and this his superior. Well... back home, anyway. "Or both?"

OOCNice work, Sigrun! Kept me on my toes there, I liked it. Thanks for your feedback there, too, I appreciated it. Eri, Kair feel free to get stuck in.