Closed Sparring, Swords and Spears! (Jh'eon)

[Tyral Moondrinker]

17th day of Summer, 513AV

The sun rested upon the horizon like a ball balanced on a string. The sky had begun to bloom in dark blues and purples and shadows grew all along the shore, ominous and twisted in the failing light. In the East, the moon could be seen, bright in the increasing darkness. It would be a clear night. The breeze blowing in off the water tasted of salt, bringing with it a slight chill. Tyral drew closer to the fire he had made, pushing discarded fish bones out of the way. Pearl slept nearby, nestled in a blanket of sand, her otter paws pressed together like a prayer. The Svefra smiled to himself, thinking back on the long day of fishing and the fun they had had, swimming and splashing in the sea.

Tyral pulled his cutlass from his belt absentmindedly, drawing the blade from its scabbard. It had been his grandfather's and he could see by the firelight the orcas that played along its edge, etched into the metal long ago. His hands itched to wield it, to spar with someone. He missed the days in the flotilla where they sparred every day, dancing between the lines, pushing each other into the sea. It had been difficult to find friends here in Riverfall, a place that merely tolerated Svefra, but still distrusted them. Tyral stood, dropping the scabbard, and swung the weapon in a large arc, feeling the satisfaction of a well balanced blade in his hands. He began a series of practice swings, sparring with his shadow in the failing light, loosening his muscles.

[Jh'eon]

Jh'eon walked through the beach and saw the moon shining in the East. He hoped that he would find some water. He saw the water and quickly drunk some and gasped for breath. His quench for water would do. He would bathe in the water tomorrow when he had some more time. He stood up and was about to head off home when he smelt burning wood. It was a smell he did not like but nevertheless, he smelled it. He turned and saw a Svefra with a cutlass, practicing his skills. An idea struck the Charoda. He was going to the Sea of Grass to visit his travelling sister, Ole'ah. There was only one way to keep safe in the Grass. He walked slowly towards the Svefra and puzzled to himself. What would someone be doing with a cutlass and a fire here at this time of night? Then he saw the otter and blinked. Then he walked up and spoke. "What would a Svefra be doing here, burning a fire at this time of night, even if a clear night." He pretended to just notice the cutlass and he nodded. "I have a spear." He took out his spear, carved with snakes. He then nodded at the Svefra. "Anyway if I am disturbing you, don't hesitate to send me off..." He sighed. It was obvious what he was hinting at. "I am travelling to the Sea of Grass and need to spar with someone. I am not that great at fighting you see. I am sorry for lying but I was wondering if you wanted to spar? My name is Jh'eon, and I am Charoda."

[Tyral Moondrinker]

Tyral watched as the Charoda walked up. At first, the sight of the Char had given him a fright, appearing at the edge of the firelight like some monster in the night. As he realized what it was, he took a deep breath and loosened his white-knuckled grip on his cutlass. Not sure if the Charoda was there to fight or not, he moved until the fire was between them. The light cast shadows across his face and chest, contrasting the golden tone of his skin with the edges of his lean, muscular frame. The stranger drew a spear and Tyral tensed, ready for a fight. What in the hells is going on right now? Am I seriously being jumped by a Charoda?

"I am travelling to the Sea of Grass and need to spar with someone. I am not that great at fighting you see. I am sorry for lying but I was wondering if you wanted to spar? My name is Jh'eon, and I am Charoda."

Tyral laughed quickly and smiled wide, relieved he wasn't about to have to fight a strange Charoda to the death for no reason at all. He moved around the campfire until he was in front of Jh'eon. He bowed, “You gave me a fright, friend. I thought I was going to have to send you back to Laviku over some fish bones and a few gold mizas. I tell you true, I am relieved to not have to do so.” Tyral eyed the Charoda's spear and his eyebrows raised in appreciation of the workmanship. “It is a nice weapon you have. You are going to the Sea of Grass? It is a strange place for a Charoda, don't you think? Why there, if you don't mind the questions? I am a man of stories and I would love to hear yours.” Tyral waited expectantly, resting the blade of his cutlass on his shoulder, his left hand on his hip. He looked sufficiently... piratey and Tyral smiled, seeing himself in his mind's eye.

[Jh'eon]

Jh'eon widened his eyes. "Well you see, stories are a good thing." He twirled the spear around carefully. "And the Sea of Grass? Why there. My sister, Ole'ah is a foolish woman. She is travelling there. I am there to convince her to move to Riverfall. I have travelled the Grass before, and know what to expect. And you do know..." He sighed. "It is not exactly a matter I wish to speak of. I have had a past...that would make your hair curl. A past that makes me hate myself more than ever before. A past that turned me into some unsocial Charoda. Until now. There have been two particular people who have helped me get out of my house for more than just Tukant and to bathe in water to survive, as Charoda. I have started strolling down the beach, as of late. I have also practiced with this spear, against invisible enemies. Not nearly as effective as real ones." He mused to himself. "The first rule of combat is don't let yourself be vulnerable to ATTACKS!" And he spun his spear and dived into attack, and spun it at Tyral. He hoped he could look more trained than he actually was. He put out all the voices in his head, telling him not to fight and focussed on the words that any warrior though of when a duel began. Let the fight begin.

[Tyral Moondrinker]

Tyral stepped back in confusion as the Charoda attacked. He had been trying to understand the vague story he was telling, and had been distracted. Just barely had he avoided the tip of the spear as it sliced the air in front of him. This guy is a little over the top. I need to be careful. As he gained his balance, Tyral gripped his cutlass in his right hand and shifted his weight to his back foot, springing forward beneath the spear. Sand flew from where his foot pushed off. Tyral's thoughts went to the earlier conversation, realizing that his opponent had never fought with an actual person before. He would need to be careful not to hurt him badly, especially since they were using live blades.

The Svefra ducked beneath the spear and stood, hitting the shaft of it with his shoulder to bounce it out of the way. He followed by swinging the cutlass in a small, quick arc towards Jheon's left arm, making sure to strike with the flat of the blade if the strike landed. Their shadows danced beside them, made monstrous and huge in the firelight. Not too far away, the waves crashed against the shore, creating an eerie soundtrack to their exertions: the crackling fire, the sound of the sea, Pearl's soft snores as she slept soundly despite the fight only yards away. Usually she woke quickly at the slightest movement, but she had had worked hard today fishing and gathering clams.

Tyral quickly leaned back after the strike towards the Charoda's left arm and placed his weight on his left hand, swinging his feet up, kicking his right foot out towards his opponent's chin. Sand flew everywhere as well. The Svefra landed neatly on his feet in a small back roll, ending up crouched and still in range of the (hopefully) dazed Charoda's spear.

[Jh'eon]

Jh'eon dodged the strike at his left arm, carefully and then got kicked in the chin. He started wobbling and spun his spear around. Once regaining balance he charged at the Svefra and kicked him. He smiled. This Svefra was intriguing. He loved listening to stories and acted a bit like Jh'eon did in his youth. Jh'eon prepared to attack. If the Svefra stood up and struck the right places, Jh'eon could be in grave danger of losing. He could lose this spar easily. He was by no means a master of the spear whatsoever - he hoped he could learn enough to survive the Sea of Grass though. "Stand up Svefra! Fight!" Jh'eon blinked. He was pretending to be some brave warrior. He was begging to Makutsi now that he would gain more luck now. It was embarrassing that his moves were so rusty. It was humiliating that he was fighting against a man, more trained in the art of armed combat, much more than the Charoda. This man probably knew the cutlass almost all his life and probably knew more than Jh'eon. Still he prepared to fight. Makutsi, bless my soul...