[Anthonius Fighters' Pits] Offensive Diversity. I

by **Archailist** on June 28th, 2014, 1:11 pm

26th of Summer, 514.

Being a Pycon severely limited ones ability with weapons from birth. Swords made to fit the average Pycon were crude at best in their actual effectiveness when presented with a full-size human. More like pricks from a needle or a sharp stone than anything that could be considered deadly. The only things that a Pycon could effectively use was a small selection of weapons specifically designed by the Pycon, for the Pycon - and their own two paws. Or as many as they held at the time. And since there were only three, compared to the mountains of various weapons scattered around the lands and different regions, brought by all the strange travelers. Their curved blades, double-bladed weapons and daggers.. axes.. poleaxes.. he stared at them all with envy. No matter. Given what he could use, Archailist knew that the best and pretty much the only way that he was going to be respected would be if he found and mastered these three weapons, and his own paws, as quickly as possible. Which meant finding out just how much Fist knew.

It had to be Fist because as far as he knew, Rat had absolutely no understanding of weapons. And neither did he care. He had his trinkets and shiny things, and there was no need to go stabbing people for it. He supposed that he could return to his father, but Stone seemed to show little care for other weapons than the Py-Pole that he'd been shown quite a while ago. And as far as he knew, there wasn't any other Pycons in the area that could teach him. Eventually, he'd picked up his pole and scampered across the castle until he could find the Pycon - and as usual, she leaned against one of the walls of the Fighters Pits, watching the various humans go at it. Never offering to help any of them, surprisingly. He'd only seen her training fellow Pycons, and by fellow Pycons, he meant himself. He was becoming enough of a regular customer that she immediately removed herself from the wall, the moment their eyes met. She knew, just as well as he did, why he was here.

"You bring Miza's with you?" At the prompt, he nodded and removed the five fairly large coins from the spot he'd held them in on his back. Just like his Py-Pole, he could hold multiple things within his clay, as long as he was careful while he did it. All it took was those five coins and the female Pycon turned her back on him and wandered off to the spot she'd been kneeling against. And below that spot, which he'd never even noticed until that moment, was a Py-Pole of her own. A long, amber-yellow thing that looked fairly sturdy and yet still well-worn with multiple uses and scratches down the length from what he could only guess were numerous fights and attacks. And a Py-Whip, coiled up neatly, in roughly the same shape. And a set of Py-Strings, that were too thin to really be considered as worn - if they were worn, they'd snap and that would be the end of it after all. The three weapons weren't what surprised him though - what made the squirrel stop and stare for a few moments was how remarkable it was, that in all his time, he'd never even noticed any of those things. She picked up the pole soon enough and turned back around, with the thing held tightly in her grasp. Just the look made him frightened.. because it looked much less clumsy than his. Well, at least he knew that she could use all three of them.. who knew, maybe she'd be worse at one than he was. Although he doubted that. He had absolutely no experience with two and very little with another.

"Alright. Come over here. I need to see what you can do before we start out." He didn't really want to, but the squirrel took a step forwards and tightened his grip on the pole as much as he dared. Fist was doing the same - although he wasn't really focused on her. Heck, he didn't want to be.

by **Archailist** on June 29th, 2014, 1:08 pm

My Words | Your Words | My Thoughts

Arch wasn't new to the Py-Pole. His father had taught him a little about it and even gifted his old one to the squirrel just before he left on his adventures. However, he was entirely new to the way that Fist used it. Instead of swinging her entire body with the pole, as he'd been told, she swung the pole with her entire body in a wide arc that he could barely jump out of the way for. But even ten she wasn't done. She used the elastic properties of the pole to her full advantage and as she tried to change its direction and make for another swing, the metal tip on the end added extra weight and caused the stick to pull back even farther, before whipping around with twice the speed as before. He couldn't even register the swing before it thwacked into his side and easily lifted the squirrel off his feet and threw him through the air. He'd been astonished by the other Pycon far too many times, but he couldn't help it. The way that she used the weapon was not only something he'd never seen before, but it was also something much stronger than he'd believed possible with such a simple weapon.

Still, he rose himself to his feet and shook away the dust now stuck all over his clay body, and walked over to pick up his own pole too. It'd been flung from his paw thanks to the sheer force that could be put into the highly-elastic body. "You've got a lot to get done, then." Why couldn't she just ask him how much he knew and work from there, rather than constantly beat him into the dirt and practically rub his face into it afterwards? Even though there was a flat voice that spoke the obvious, he still felt like it was mocking his crude attempts. She settled the stick at her side while she stepped up to the squirrel and gripped both of his paws to hold them steady on the pole. Then she lifted it up just a little bit, so that the pole stuck out far too low.. almost level and horizontal. Then, strangely enough, she moved away and walked to take a step before him, with almost the exact same pose.

"First thing is defending yourself. You're a squirrel, this should be the important part. And it works for every weapon. I make a stab, or a slash, or anything, and you need to lift the pole if it's a horizontal slash, and move it left or right if it's a vertical." This was actually very important. He'd never really wielded a weapon of this type before - he didn't know.. well, near enough anything about how it worked. Apart from some information on slashing and the like. Essentially what his father had learned, which was how to use it as a pole and launch oneself at a person or a target. That was all good and well if they didn't have a shield.. and they were slow or heavy. But when they were nimble, then it became a simple hassle to throw yourself at empty air over and over. He'd imagined it would be what the many people did when they used heavy weapons and never seemed to land a hit on the squirrel because he could jump left and right. And he didn't really like the feeling of it either. Fist seemed right at home, and once again made it obvious with a sudden swing straight down.

Of course he didn't see it coming. It thwacked him on the head pretty hard, but not enough to break the clay. At least he managed to hold onto the stick this time, unlike last time. Not that it stopped Fist from making a second swipe from above. This time, he could see it coming at least and quickly swiped the pole to the side. It worked, at least.. although the pole did barely clip his ear. Obviously he had a bit of work to do.. especially with the pole being so long and such little force put into it. At least he'd have plenty of time to work, because Fist was showing absolutely no signs of stopping. She didn't even stop to explain anything.. as the swings came, he was expected to move out of the way, or push them aside, or block them. Obviously they were coming a lot slower than before.. and they were a lot more predictable. Horizontal, or vertical. That was the only two moves she would make, over and over. However, she continuously switched them around in a way that made it impossible to pick a rhythm. Sometimes, she would pull several repeated attacks from one direction and then bring it from another suddenly to make him switch and keep him on his toes.

by **Archailist** on July 1st, 2014, 6:57 pm

My Words | Your Words | My Thoughts

After barely a few chimes, his arms were exhausted from holding up the rather heavy pole and constantly deflecting rather light swings. Of course, it wouldn't be a training session with Fist unless it involved a lot of falling and aching. The female Pycon made a horizontal swing that seemed almost lazy, and the squirrel pushed it up into the air with an upward swing of his pole in return. But then, she brought it down vertically, which gave him little time to react at all, due to the speed that it came with. The next swing was a little more frantic - trying to push aside the opponents pole as it rushed down towards him. It was a miracle that the thing scraped down the squirrels pole on its side, otherwise he wouldn't have found the strength or the speed to throw it. Except, not even that was where the barrage truly ended.. because it was only once the squirrel was thoroughly spent, that the expert distinguished herself.

Fist suddenly spun the pole between her fingers until the pointed end faced backwards. Of course, the squirrel expected the next attack to come from above.. but he was wrong. She reeled the pole back and then stabbed it forwards with all of her strength, and in the squirrels exhausted state, he could barely hop out of the way fast enough. It clipped his side and sent him spinning to the ground in a huff and a heavy cloud of dust thrown up from the arena floor. He'd be damned if he was going to get up again after that sorry performance.. but already there was something sharp poking at his lower back, and he could feel the cold eyes of the female Pycon digging into his back harder than any barbed thorn could. "You've got to work on that. Now, next. You need to practice attacks. Get up here and try to attack me with just your pole. Not your body, just the pole." Oh, he could already tell what was going to happen. He was going to turn around, get up and fight with her. She was going to block everything.. and then she was going to counter attack and slam him down again.

He didn't want it.. but he wanted to become a knight. And becoming a knight meant putting himself through stress. He'd be damned if he wasn't in stress already, but.. he could tell things could be worse. Instead of being given the opportunity, over and over again, to try and beat the girl... he could be facing a real opponent. With a real weapon trying to lodge in his nexus every swing. Now that would be stress. And if he didn't do any of this, he wouldn't be prepared for when that moment eventually would come. Not all of his enemies would be running away from him, like that cultist was.. so he needed to prepare himself for when one of them turned around and fought back.

"Damn it..." He didn't really like it any more, but he struggled to his feet and wobbled for a few long seconds before he could grab his own Py-Pole from the ground and ready it in two paws again. Of course, there was Fist standing there, completely calm.. she didn't look stressed at all. Then again, she never looked like anything. It was a miracle if she ever looked content with herself, let alone whether she looked any more grumpy than she always did. Maybe her face was naturally like that, but it just looked eerie. Of course, she held the pole as if she'd been holding it her entire life.. the grip on it was strong, the pole seemed in complete control.. if anything, looking at the way that she held it so securely just made him wonder, yet again, why he was bothering. He could achieve that.. eventually. He could become as competent, or maybe even more adept at the use of the pole as Fist was, if he had time to do it in. But spending time constantly going against her wasn't the way for it, was it?

"Come on. Make quick swings. Don't worry about hurting me." No worries there. He had enough motivation already.. and it was time for a quick bit of stress relief. Just the thought was enough to make him eager.. and the next thing he knew, he was practically running towards her with a mighty swing of the pole and a yell in his throat. He wanted to lodge it deep in the center of her nexus for everything he'd gone through.. damnit, he wanted to take revenge! But, of course, it wasn't meant to be. He'd barely begun, and Fist calmly flicked the end of her pole up, and sent his spiraling with it. He'd expected a bit of a back-and-forth, but he'd been careless with his actions and she intended for him to pay the price for it. Her pole swung around in a full circle, and slammed into his chest somewhere half-way through. There was enough momentum to carry him all the way around until she finished though, where he was practically catapulted through the air to slam back into the ground. His pole was also flung off... somewhere. He didn't really have the time to find out where.

by **Archailist** on July 1st, 2014, 7:19 pm

My Words | Your Words | My Thoughts

This was becoming far too much of a familiar position. Lying on his back, staring up at the sky, and wondering once again why he bothered. It always kept going back to that, and he always had to tell himself why. But it never really hit home. Suddenly, his view was obstructed by the familiar hand staring down.

"Ow." He didn't know what else to say. A majority of his body hurt at that point - particularly his chest and torso from the multiple thwacks with the heavy pole repeatedly landing around the general area. It was a miracle that he'd not had whole chunks of his body ripped off with the force that Fist kept pushing into the swings.

"It was your own fault. Don't give me shyke. You weren't being careful with your attacks. You need to get into the swing of the attacks as well. These are not, and never will be, axes. So don't swing them like they are." He was tired of listening to her, but he nodded in agreement regardless as he rose back to his feet and tried to shake some of the stars still floating somewhere around his forehead. He'd barely finished when something caught the corner of his eye - a flying Py-Pole, spinning through the air. He ducked quickly and it sailed over his head.. but when he threw back a scathing look at Fist, he saw that she still held her own pole in her hand. She threw my pole! Honestly, things were getting out of hand now. Although there was little he could do about it. Once again, he was getting beaten into the dirt and once again, he was paying someone else to do it to him. Even if he had complaints to make, it wasn't like they were going to be important enough for Fist to heed them.

When he finally turned, and picked up his pole, she was steady and waiting. And this time, he approached carefully, with the pole extended out before him. Even though this was supposed to be an exercise on how to attack, he knew that she would most likely try to keep him on his toes. She didn't attack, but he did hear a "Good." Whether it was for his approach or whether it was because he'd prepared himself for attack, he didn't know.. but when they were within attack distance, he immediately went for the first thing he thought would work - a good, solid stab with both paws tightening on the shaft to keep it from flexing when the tip hit something. Unfortunately, it didn't work.. and he was left to understand, in an epiphany, why Fist had only gone for a stab in the last few moments of her assault before. When he made the thrust, it sent his whole body forwards a step and made his entire body vulnerable the moment that he followed through in the strike but failed to hit.

He learned it the moment he felt a good thwack on his back with the foot of the pole, forcing him to stumble forwards a few steps.. but thankfully he remained on his feet this time. And he could recover fast enough that when the next strike came around in a wheel for his chest, he lifted the pole and held it steady so that the strike hit the pole, instead of his body. It meant that he could regain himself completely and steady his body before he made his next attack - which came around for Fist's side in a solid swing, easily deflected by her pole with an upward swing in return, which left his own body defenseless for another good jab straight for the exposed side. This time, he could see it coming, and hopped easily to the side before bringing down the pole that was still hovering far over the squirrels head. It hit Fist... but the fingers that surrounded her face closed around it in a tight fist that he simply couldn't break, and she spun sharply.

The force jolted him through the air for a few ticks, before his mind could catch up with the rest of his body and make him release the stick. For his hesitation, he got an extra few ticks rolling through the dust before he came to a stop, coughing and trying to clear the clouds that now surrounded him. "That was weak. You need to put more strength into your blows. If they can't knock me over, they won't do the same for a human." Damnit, she was right. But then, how did he swing correctly?

by **Archailist** on July 2nd, 2014, 5:36 pm

My Words | Your Words | My Thoughts

The thought had barely left his mind before the Pycon instructor roughly grabbed one end of the pole and bent it backwards in his grasp. It didn't bend much though, because of the tight grip he had on the farthest edges that he could manage. He often did it to stop the thing from springing about whenever he tried attacking.. after all, it ended up hitting his own body more often than it even hit the person he was trying to injure. When she released the tip, it flopped back and forth a little.. but otherwise, there were only minor vibrations immediately absorbed by his clay paws. He didn't really understand what this was showing.. until he noticed that she had two paws on her pole as well. Except, one was at the lower edge and one was around the middle. Then, slowly, a third arm materialized above her left shoulder and reached down, pulling back the stick. From the middle to the metal tip, it slowly bent back, farther and farther.. pretty damn far actually, until he was sure she had proved her point.. she held it where it had a lot of flexibility. And that meant...

When she released the metal point, the sudden catapulting swing that the pole made was exactly like those before. It slammed into his chest, made quite a bit of a rip up his chest and abdomen, and sent the squirrel practically flying backwards as the ripples stretched over his body and met again. As he lay on the floor and waited for the new wound to reform, he got another lecture. "Which do you think had more power in its swing. Mine, or yours." He knew he wasn't supposed to answer that question, so he kept his mouth shut and let his eyes do the rest of the talking. "You can't be un-flexible. You're a fast squirrel, and you should use that for the pole. Use the ground, use your momentum, and use your own paws to make the pole flex. Don't treat it like it's any other spear." He understood.. but he still didn't feel particularly happy with it. So when he found motion returned to his arms, he picked up his pole again and held it in both paws, somewhat similar to the way that Fist had been.. except his paws were spaced a little wider and instead of the middle, he had one paw somewhere between the middle and the upper portions. It gave the stick a little more flexibility.. just a little.

When they started again, he felt like he was holding a whole new weapon.

The first swing that came around was from Fist, coming hard and fast as always. However, without a lot of the spring in her pole, he at least managed to lift his own pole quick enough to throw it over his own head before he made for a swing of his own. It didn't connect of course, but as the stick continued to stretch, he pulled it back in the opposite direction after Fist had leaped back in a quick feat of dexterity. It meant that the tension only built up further.. and when the tip finally swung back, it came much faster in his grip and seemed to flash faster than he could control it. Even though it was once again evaded, the swing just kept on going.. he couldn't stop the sheer momentum that had built from the elastic being stretched to its limits, and it eventually slipped out of his grip and flung itself through the air to land in the next arena over. The squirrel sighed, but.. there wasn't a beating to come. It was a miracle.

"That was good. Go fetch it. We'll do a little more of this before we stop." Thank goodness. He didn't know if he could really take much more of what they'd been going through. But as he hopped out of the small arena they'd been training in, and into the next.. he couldn't help but notice that a lot of the Pits were now empty. The only one left, in fact, was Gerard who had his attention focused solely upon the pair of them.

by **Archailist** on July 2nd, 2014, 7:39 pm

My Words | Your Words | My Thoughts

Of course, for their last match, she would go all-out. And of course, Fist did. He'd barely picked up the stick before she lurched towards him and made a quick stab for his midsection. Thankfully he stepped aside and swung the pole towards he in a long swipe from left to right, but Fist's pole went from horizontal to vertical in a tick and caught it mid-strike, causing both of the poles to flex and wobble briefly as each sent vibrations down the other.. but when they had both settled, they took a step back and prepared themselves. Unconsciously, the squirrel found his grip shifting to something very similar to Fist's - with one hand more or less half-way down the pole, and the other near the base. It did give maximum damage when he got up sufficient tension along the length of the pole.. even if it wasn't very good for countering the opponent. He wasn't fast enough to make a suitable defense so offense was the best way to make use of the weapon, and the particular style.

Fist came forwards first with a sharp burst of speed, and a mighty swing of her pole. Arch managed to catch the movement and duck underneath it just in time before repeating the motion with his own pole.. and she moved aside much, much faster than he could possibly swing it. The pole still felt pretty damn heavy in his paws, even though there was a lot of flexibility to the weapon. Fist was able to use it as if the thing was not just an extension of her arms, but of her entire body - flailing it about carelessly in a way that just seemed to work. When she brought it up behind her, the metal tip dragged along the floor and built up tension all the way down the pole as it was bent in two, like a crescent. When it finally broke free, the entire pole whipped around and down in a slap that was hard and fast enough that even though the squirrel could see the attack building up by that moment and hop aside and out of the trajectory.. it kicked up a lot of dirt and the squirrel had to hop back a few steps to try and see through the thick clouds.

Giving distance was a bad idea though. From the clouds, Fist came charging out with her stubby legs moving much faster than he was sure they should have been. The legs weren't even what he was looking at though... worryingly, she was holding the pole a completely different way to before. She had both paws on the pole, but she held it at just above waist level, with the metal point facing straight forwards. He'd never seen that pose before but he had a pretty good idea what it was for, because it wasn't going to be used for swinging.. or stabbing. She was actually going to try for a jump - and she did. The pole was raised, tip-first, and then slammed into the ground at just the right angle for the pole to bend, and straighten itself as she continued running. The pressure mounted to a peak in mere ticks - much faster for any human to move out of the way for, he was sure.. but thankfully he found the strength and the speed to barely hop aside and out of the way before she was launched into the air, faster and harder than he could ever dream. And because she never released her hold, her entire body flipped a full half-circle and slammed back into the ground, still on her feet... and right on the squirrels left leg.

The appendage was squashed flat and crushed into the floor as the female Pycon instructor swiftly pulled the pole back; dragging the metal tip from the ground and lifting it skywards, before he eventually pulled it around and pointed it straight at the downed squirrel. He had no option but to admit defeat and release his grip on his own pole, to raise both paws up high in the air. "Alright, alright..." She'd definitely unlocked something deep inside her for that. He'd never seen her twist in the middle of combat so quickly - sure, when they were trying out other things, she'd announce that she was going to try a little harder and he'd obviously see it. But unannounced, that was the fastest transformation he'd ever seen. At least she seemed to accept his defeat and forfeit - the metal pole was soon pulled back from the middle of his throat and replaced with an open hand to grab. He took it eagerly, and suddenly found himself being yanked fast enough to his feet that he thought his arm might be wrenched from his shoulder.

"That was a good session. I think you've learned a lot from today, haven't you." He surely had.

by **Vanari** on August 4th, 2014, 4:38 am

Archailist

Observation	+5 XP
Weapon: Py-Pole	+5 XP
Endurance	+3 XP

Lores :

Loot :

Notes :

Solo [Anthonius Fighters' Pits] Offensive Diversity. I