Closed A Bigger Stick Isn't Better (Lavira)

[Marrin]

40th Day of Autumn, 513 AV The walk to the fighting pits was a long one, and one Marrin wasn’t entirely sure he wanted to complete. He’d been there a number of times before, mostly to watch grudge matches get played out, but today he went there for himself. He’d heard something of Jhinapar, the trainer that ran the place, and the connection his people had to Eywaat, the god of birds. He sought out today to learn more about the god, wondering why his people didn’t take to his name more readily. He hoped perhaps in spirituality he’d find a way to more focus his efforts as a hunter, and maybe being marked by the god would lead to escalation into the Endal caste. He wondered how the Wind Eagles would view such a divine mark. Still, he was apprehensive, wondering if now was the time and place for such a thing. The winds were picking up, and he should likely be training at the archery range if he wanted to be a good enough shot to take down enough food for his people in the oncoming winter. Their catch had been scarce this year, and he wanted to make sure that they had enough to survive. None the less, his curiosity made him surge on to the pits, hoping to find answers. He turned the corner, into the rising sun that slowly warmed his flesh. He had to cover his eyes for a moment, shielding himself from the vile morning light that came all too early for him. It helped to wake him, but it also nearly blinded him, making him blink and curse in quiet frustration as he made his way closer to the ring, unaware of his surroundings.

[Lavira]

Vira was here for an entirely different reason. Greco had brought some of his pupils up to the pits today instead of his training grounds at the base of the mountain to work on some various leveled training. Among them was Vira. She always had market days off but usually spent them working or volunteering anyways so they weren't much of off days. As such, she had taken it upon herself to learn staff fighting from the weapons master.

She had woken early, as always, and got dressed. The vinati was the same cut as always, knotting between her shoulder blades; the bryda, likewise, simple and billowing around her sandalled feet. Though the weather was cool, she did not need her katinu like she would have had it been down on Greco's grounds. Her sontav was worn, as usual, and her hair had been braided into a plait and then tucked into a bun at the back of her skull, the chiffon scarf wrapping around it afterwards to hold it all in place.

That had been a full bell before sunrise, though, and now the young woman was hard at work, sweat already shining on her brow, arms, and midriff, the scars of her right side slick in from the sheen. The spars were only going a few chimes at a time, usually to the first successful strike and nothing more (Greco didn't believe in paddin), pairing each trainee with someone of their skill level. Her current partner was a Chiet who'd been working off and on with the weapons master to improve her skills. The chiet, however, was doing this as a hobby on market days and nothing more. It took a full season to save up for lessons, afterall!

Vira was set into a typical yin-yan stance with one hand near the back of the staff, only a few hands breadths from the end, and her right hand near the middle. That hand was held at arms length, straight and secure and held at chest level. The left hand was kept tight against her hip, the head of the staff pointing upwards and was even with her head. The young woman in front of her had a similar stance, right foot slightly forwards, left back and slightly bent.

Archeron ordered them to begin and Vira stepped in quickly, striking hard and fast with a poke. The other swept her own forwards and then up on the left side of Vira's, slapping it aside and following through with another step forwards and poke. Vira shifted backwards quickly, turning as her right hand slid down the staff until it was nearer the bottom, too. She moved into a bat-like swing that knocked the other staff aside in return and caught their exposed knuckles in the process.

Greco held up his hands. "Good job. Veska, make sure you keep your grip tight and hold your balance. You're off center still. I've told you before, practice on the beams, you need to be steady.

The other girl, Veska, grumbled and replied. "Yessir, I have been practicing." It was weird getting hit by another rookie, but the Chiet was a cocky thing who thought her one or two lessons a season justified her to be higher of skill than the Endal standing before her. Still, Vira smiled and offered a hand to the other.

"It's alright, if you'd been a little more to the right, you would've got me." It was the next pairs turn, now and Veska and Lavira left the ring, the Endal going to get some water from one of the Dek, the young man entering the fighting pits not seen (since the Dek with drinks were setup near the entry as well) and ran right into. Of course, she didn't know that he'd been blinded by the early sun upon arrival so her quip at the young man was justifiable.

"Hey, open your eyes, man!"

[Marrin]

”Ah! I’m sorry, miss!” The words burst forth before he even knew who he was talking to. In his blind wandering he’d his something soft, warm and wet that smelled of femininity and hard work. And when the obstacle had spoken up, it became clear he’d run into one of the women going about training here. He wasn’t sure of their caste, still unable to see any more than a silhouette, but assumed it was best to get on their good side whoever they were. No Dek would speak to any non-Dek in such a manner without expecting to lose a few teeth, so there was a two in three chance that whoever he’d run into was of equal or higher caste than him. Again, best to be on their good side. ”My apologies, Syna seems to have it out for me this morning.” He held a hand up, shielding his eyes from the bright light. He blinked a few times, his eyes adjusting to the more manageable dimness, finding his eyes focused on the belly button of a young woman, well toned abs glistening with fresh sweat. Only now did he notice the sound of cracking wood on wood, yelps of surprise and pain and the shouts of Greco, carrying various levels of urgency. Training. Earlier in the season Marrin had come to Greco in search of training in the use of his dagger, and the lesson had proved beyond enlightening. As such he decided to save up his money for a full season of lessons come Spring. He’d come to greatly respect the older gentleman, his serious attitude regarding the arts of fighting accompanied by a great level of passion for the martial arts. As his vision grew better he lifted his eyes, first noticing the large scar over the girl’s right eye. He was surprised, wondering if he’d been wrong and he had bumped into one of the serving Dek who had the gumption to insult it’s elites in such a way. However, the silhouette slowly faded into simple shade, showing him he was dead wrong. He’d seen this girl before, hanging around with some of the other Endal. They’d never spoken for very long, only passing respects and such. He knew little else about her, but his astonishment at his realization was evident upon his face. ”I-Is there any way I could make it up to you?” He tended to avoid speaking with Endal unless they addressed him directly, for fear of doing something to embarrass himself or offend them. However he’d already made a fool of himself to this one, so the best he could do was try to make up for it. He knew all too well that everyone remembered every slight unless it was properly compensated for. He didn’t want his first impression with this girl to be both poor AND lasting.

[Lavira]

Vira wasn't naturally violence prone, but she absolutely hated running into people; it was insulting and too many times in the past she had been accused of it herself, but then the girl had still been getting used to her single-eyed sight. Now, though, she was quite acclimated to the disability and compensated for it by favoring passages where she could walk on the right side; still this was the second time in ten days where she'd inadvertently collided with another. It was most irritating.

The teen frowned at the young man as he began blathering in apology. Sorry this and how to make up for it that. She wanted to thump him! Then, she wondered if she too had been this simpering as a lower caste-woman. Dek had it worse, but often Chiet weren't much better. The middle man tended to be prone to being scooped up by a higher member of society for a dalliance. It was insulting and Vira had been glad she had avoided it for so long.

"If you really wanted to make it up to me, you'd do something useful instead of blathering like a fool. Can you fight? You have the look of someone versed in that much." He wasn't too broad, though, and she wondered if perhaps he was a hunter. His shoulders suggested maybe an archer. "Probably a shooter, though." Vira narrowed her eyes a little more in thought, leaning on the staff. "Why don't you see if Greco will lend you a staff. I need to practice my yin-yan strikes."

oocShort

[Marrin]

He hadn’t been aware that he’d been blathering, though now that the girl had drawn attention to it, he noticed he’d been repeating his apologies and begging forgiveness. He always got so nervous around Endal if he didn’t know them well enough, and this one was no exception. If she hadn’t stopped him, he may very well have gone on for the next chime or two. Her request however, was something that made him both smile and raise an eyebrow, creating an oddly comical look upon his face. Fighting was something he could do, but he’d only worked with melee once before with Greco, and though he’d liked it the occurrence had been far from his personal zone of comfort. It also occurred to him that he’d just been told to do something by an Endal, so he couldn’t refuse, but it might end up hurting said Endal. Things weren’t boding well for him, cornered into a situation he both loved and feared, the thrill of combat combined with the reluctance to actually hurt anyone at all. Not to mention he’d never touched a fighting staff in his life, preferring smaller and more subtle weapons such as the simple dagger. Then she mentioned a specific technique, one that sounded foreign to him. “What’s a yin-yan strike?” -- Marrin no longer wanted to know what a yin-yan strike was, and if Lavira kept hitting him in the head like she had been for the past few chimes, he’d soon forget it. Greco had given him a staff, longer and heavier than the ones most of the others were working with. Marrin was taller than most Inarta, his half-breed heritage adding to his height, and as staves were measured by the height of the user, his had to be larger than the rest. This made him slow to move, especially with such little training beforehand. He’d looked around quickly, trying to gain a handle on how everyone was holding the large sticks. Some had both hands on it near the center, others were holding it like a large club at one end, and still others had no hands on it at all, flipping it over and around their body parts. Those were likely some of the more experienced students, showing off to try to catch the attention of their young and beautiful Endal guest. He decided that he’d hold it near the middle, seeing that it was what most people were doing and noticing they were the ones to get scolded less often than some of the others. However, the first time he tried to block, his wrists had been too stiff and his pole hand’t even reached the area of the strike. The second time he overcompensated for the looseness, sending the stick flying through the air only to come crashing down on him as Lavira’s strike forced it back down. The third round he’d actually managed to stop the first shot, only to get clapped on the ankle by the other end of the pole. Staff fighting is far different from dagger play, he complained in his mind, quietly chastising himself for his poor work. His effort showed quickly, however, as he was already beginning to glisten with the thin sheen of sweat that covered every part of him. He stood now, preparing himself for their fourth round together. He took not of Lavira’s foot stance, trying to mimic it as best he could. He’d received any constructive criticism she’d sent his way well, following any instructions she gave as well as listening for anything should Greco shout an instruction intended for the class as a whole. He’d learned long ago that if you don’t put in the effort, you’ll get nothing out of it. So he put everything he had into any learning experience that came his way, his tenacity and stubbornness helping him when it came to challenges such as this. He had to stay focused, respect his elders and follow their instruction if he wanted to improve. And, in his mind, this was far better than reading it in a book. ”Ready when you are,” he muttered with a quiet nod, having long forgotten his original intentions for going to the pits in the first place (be that due to repetitive blows to the head is anyone's call).

[Lavira]

Vira was still very much a novice in terms of staff fighting. She had only learned a few moves from Greco so far and none of them were truly defensive skills. Though, the Upward Strike might be considered one. Nonetheless, Marrin shouldn't be that overmatched once he set into the ring and began to 'dance' with her.

-------------------------

They had been going at it barely five chimes, and each time, Vira landed a solid strike into the young mans head, drawing grunts of pain often from him and more and more wariness from her. She felt like she was being toyed with the more and more he was hit, as if at any moment Marrin was going to show her that he was actually a staff-shark. He would turn the tables in a heartbeat and Vira wouldn't stand a chance.

When they finally paused, Vira had the staff in a yin-yan grip once again with the right side pointed about chest level at him. Her right foot was forwards slightly and her left in the back, slightly bent with the foot just barely turned out. "You really need to stop getting hit...You make me feel like you're doing it on purpose." She grumbled, admitting her concern. "I keep thinking you're going to suddenly flip the table on me and come at me with master moves and speed."

Still, he admitted readiness and only after double checking with him did she press into the assault, sliding forwards quickly and thrusting the weapon forward and up towards his head in a Poke maneuver.

[Marrin]

Marrin couldn’t help but chuckle as she made her comment about him being a secret master in the ways of staff fighting. He smiled and shrugged, making it seem as if it was something he was considering, but saying nothing. She could likely see through the bluff, but he didn’t care. He was almost starting to have fun, as he could tell with each strike she threw at him he was getting at least a little better. He was able to block the first strike in the last round, and though the accomplishment was small he milked it for all it was worth. What could he really expect? Of course the Endal was better than him. The poke jabbed at his face, and he bent backwards to try to avoid it, bringing the left side of his staff up to whack it to the side. The strike was sharp, strong, and surprisingly quick, stronger than it really should have been. Greco had told him something in his dagger training class that he remembered only after he’d put so much effort into moving the attack off course. ”It does not matter how much they miss you by,” he had said ”as long as they miss you. Why expend all the effort to push their blade a foot or two away when you will be just fine if it misses by an inch. Save your energy and let the movements flow rather than forcing them. You’ll find it’s like trying to shove over a river after a while.” And he was right, even moreso with staves than with blades. The shocking vibration the collision send to his hands hurt, making him wince and close his eyes for an instant too long. His momentum nearly caused him to tumble onto his rear, the strong strike carrying him into a spin. He frowned, disappointed at his clumsiness and forgetfulness, but also glad he was able to block the strike. He’d reacted out of instinct and reflex, more desperation than conscious thought, which was how Greco said the Myrians fought. They were too savage to know fighting styles as well refined as those he knew, but fighting was in their blood and it pushed them to fight just as well as any other man. Marrin wondered if perhaps he had some Myrian in his bloodline somewhere. That would certainly be an interesting thing to discover, he thought to himself. He and his mother had never really spoken much about his father and his father’s heritage. Marrin wondered now if the absence of that conversation had been a mistake. Perhaps he’d speak with her soon about it. In the split second he had to think about how to turn this folly into an advantage, he acted, planting his free foot on the ground and pivoting, using his spinning and falling momentum to bring in a side swipe aimed at her calves. He was crouched low, having stumbled a short ways away in the spin, but still just close enough to make contact if she didn’t block or dodge it. It was a clumsy swing, slow and stupid but strong. He almost hoped he didn’t hit her, for fear of the repercussions of hitting one of the Endal. Almost. All the other Endal he’d met had been proud to show off their position, flaunting their caste and using it to their advantage in any way they could, inclusing getting others in trouble. Why wouldn’t Lavira be any different? That was just how Endal were, and Marrin understood it was their place and their right to do so. He just didn’t want to cause any trouble, didn’t want to get himself in trouble for not letting the her win. He didn’t want to hurt her, and he certainly didn’t want to embarrass her.

[Lavira]

Vira saw her opportunity the moment he fumbled in his step. She rushed in for a hard thrust of the staff to his chest but he managed to deflect it at the last second. The reverberations through the staff made her arms tingle, but the teen let the energy that had been exerted into the weapon turn to her use as she twisted in time, swinging and sliding her hands into a yin-yan grip in a bat-swing for his head. It would be a strong strike, if it landed, but far from enough to kill him. Afterall, this wasn't a battle to the death: it was just a friendly (focused) spar.

The sweep of the cold wind around her helped to cool some of the sweat she had built up from the workout, but it also played against her, her hair having come loose at some point to fling before her face in the spin, effectively blinding her. She could not see the incoming low-blow as she twisted, but she sure felt it! A solid smack with a staff could do some bruise-worthy damage; a well placed shot could even break bones. It was a weapon of peasants that often did far more in terms of damage than a knife or sword otherwise might be able to accomplish.

The blow landed in the back of her knees, making the nerves shoot fire through her joints and legs and causing the young woman to buckle under it, her staff dropped and a wild series of curses suddenly released.

"Petching shyke of a dek-licking vagik chick! Agh!" Her hands were balled into fists on the ground, marred face contorted in pain. "Petching...petch...shyke!" She continued down this front for some time until she ran out of things to say and simply groaned. His strike was a prime example of how a well-placed (or in his case, lucky) shot could literally bring an opponent to their knees. To say the young man had hit a nerve in the Endal was an understatement. But to hear the slight and generally kind figure curse in such a...colorful way, well, that was just funny!

[Marrin]

The staff connected, collapsing her knee and causing her to fall to the ground. She released her staff, him releasing his at the same moment, the two sticks beginning to roll away as the girl fell to the ground. The stream of curses that erupted from her mouth were colorful to say the least, and would have caused Marrin to laugh had they not been the result of damage to her person. When it came down to it, she was Endal and he was Avora. “Gods! I’m terribly sorry! I didn’t mean to hit you so hard!” He’d heard from one of the elder students in his previous class that the most dangerous person on the training ground was the novice. He’d seen enough to begin to understand the technique, but didn’t have enough practice to understand and control his power. Expert soldiers had been killed on the training grounds by sparring with a novice. Marrin was lucky that the damage he’d done, while well placed, had not been powerful enough to break her bones. She’d walk away with a large welt and bruise for days, but nothing permanent had been done. He fell to his knees, searching for a way to help the girl. He wasn’t sure if she wanted to stand, collapse or simply to continue streaming curses, but he wanted to do something. ”Err, are you alright? Can you move your leg?” He really hoped it wasn’t broken, having no medical expertise himself, but he thought that if she moved her leg they’d know right quick if it was broken or not. He hoped to whatever gods would listen that she hadn’t been hurt too badly. ”I guess you were right. I am a secret master at staff-fighting,” he said softly as she began to calm down, trying to lighten the mood a bit. He didn’t know the girl well at all, didn’t even know her name. Recently he’d made a habit of accidentally hurting people he’d never spoken to before, and the trend was displeasing to him. He’d rutted his relationship with Azira right off a cliff from the get go, and didn’t want to do so with this girl. Hopefully his attempt at humor was seen in good faith and he was forgiven for his brutal and accidental finesse with the staff.

[Lavira]

The back of her legs stung like Hai and it took Vira a minute to quiet enough to roll onto her side and sit on rump instead, stretching her legs out in front of her and massaging the backs of her knee joints. It had been a good blow, the Endal couldn't deny that, she just hadn't expected it to hurt so much! Talk about disabling your opponent, hah!

"Yea, I'm fine, it's letting up." She said through grit teeth, turning her gaze up to Marrin now and giving him a pained grin. "But damn, nice hit. I call match on that one. If we were in a real fight, I'd be dead! Nice job." It took another half a chime before the nerves relaxed enough for her to even try and stand. It was like getting a really bad cramp! As soon as she could, the Endal pulled her legs in and got back to her feet, brushing her palms against her bryda and then grabbing the staff to help her get over to the side of the arena and let the next pair enter.

"I never caught your name, by the way. Why're you lurking around the pits on a training day, though?" Since hooking up with Kovac, the young woman had lightened in her mood considerably, his snarky antics having worn off on her a little to help the teen see that you didn't have to be all ramrod straight and narrow, always stuck working, never enjoying life the way it should be enjoyed. "You don't look the type to take up fighting." Not that Vira did either, but that was beside the point! "Too soft in the eyes...But not opposed to a good bout. I bet you're a hunter." Vira leaned on the staff and offered the man her left hand. "Endal Lavira."