[Arena of Ancients] The Point of the Spear (Kwantu)

by **Kaie** on November 2nd, 2014, 4:57 am

In that moment they were locked in a stalemate, either side gripping and tugging for control of the coveted weapon which the female had been deprived. There was a vicious fire in her eyes. The look was hungry, in their amber blaze a promise that she could emerge victorious over her opponent. Yet his willpower was strong and his desperation to maintain possession of the spear admirable.

"We'll see about that!" She hissed back at Kwantu, furious her foot-plant upon his torso had failed to win her the object. The shaft jerked toward his direction, and then downward at her as he tried to ward her off and relinquish her grasp. Her front foot merely adjusted to take a step back behind the other. With it she bent her knees and viciously tugged the weapon her own direction, twisting her hips for added leverage. The male was not so eager to give up just yet though.

Just when she was executing her movements, Kwantu's hands made a speedy readjustment upon the spear shaft. No longer did she have the advantage of proximity to the spear head to make him wary. Now he was comfortable, gaining ground even and earning leverage for himself. Thus, when her tugging came, it was countered with his rearing . Fierce amber eyes widened at the suddenness of the yank. She felt her body reverse in momentum back toward the man, hands slipping along the wood signalling her imminent defeat.

Oh, petch this shyke, She growled internally. His over-commitment to the jarring motion back toward him, which had her reeling forward anyway, was to be quickly punished. Her right hand released the spear, left held on to take advantage of the sharp advance, and with a vicious swing she aimed to hook her fist into his jaw.

by **Kwantu** on November 17th, 2014, 8:20 pm

He'd been so avid in retrieving the spear, he'd failed to keep the distance between them both. Goodness knew that he'd never manage to match her when it came to using anything but his spear, and when the swing came around for his jaw, he could do nothing as light flashed across his vision and his grip on the spear vanished. He swore that he could feel his teeth rattling in his gums, and a sickening lurch as his head snapped back fast enough to yank both feet from underneath, slamming the back of his head against the ground with a sharp jerk that sent another blinding flash through his eyes. That wasn't a damn normal punch, he swore. All he'd been doing this entire spar was little more than struggle to avoid taking the worst of her blows, and now he'd gone and blown that, hadn't he.

There was blood in his mouth. A lot of it. He tried to turn his head and spit it out, but it ended up dribbling down over his bottom lip and chin like a child struggling to swallow down its food. Much as it shamed him to be brought so damn low, and then lower still, he couldn't even right himself without the whole world spinning fast enough that Kaie's face high above became little more than a blur. "S.. Shurak.." If he'd ducked, if he'd not drawn her close, let her take the advantage and the opportunity, then he could have won. He could have taken that spear back from her greedy hands and rammed it straight up her shurak. He still intended to do that.. if he could find his feet again. The best he could manage was to lift his head a few inches and wipe away some of the blood with the back of one sweaty hand.

"Fine.. you win.. happy?" It was only a mercy his father wasn't around to see him like this. Sat in the dirt, struggling to even get up again. Even with his spear, he couldn't best her. Even with my spear... He was a damnable disgrace not worth his scars, if he couldn't even stand up against a girl and her punches. Myri forbid what he'd hear when he came back with blood dripping all over his face, and be forced to explain what he'd done. Tears were masked beneath his hands, faking the need to wipe away more blood that oozed from the corners of his mouth and left little crimson trails down to his chin.

Myrian Tongue | Common Tongue | Tukant Tongue

by **Kaie** on November 19th, 2014, 5:57 am

Had she not been technically losing ticks before, the young Myrian woman might've felt joy. Instead she felt satisfaction, the same she felt when any of her strikes landed the way they were supposed to. In the immediate moment, the battle was not won. When Kwantu's head snapped back with her punch, hands releasing the spear that sealed her victory, it was not his defeat in this sadistic game that she lingered on. He hit the ground hard. She could practically feel his pain in her own head, having been familiar with the sensation in a previous match. He was a mess. They both were. Blood dribbled across his lips as it had her side when he'd pierced her flesh. Chests heaved out ragged breaths of exhaustion. Kaie's own knees felt weak. Had the spar gone on much further, she might've fallen in defeat out of pure fatigue.

She crouched down and took the spear in her hands, a tired smile coming across her lips as he cursed her. Sunkissed hands toyed with the weapon, envious over its legitimacy over the one she had wielded. When he truly address her, the smile faded away. Are you happy? She considered his question thoughtfully for a moment and offered him a shrug. No. I wanted to win. Not like this. A victory was a victory in any case, she supposed.
"Can't say I'm upset," Kaie offered him mildly, pressing the dull end of the spear into the earth. She used it to find her feet like a crutch. Then she stepped toward him where he laid on the earth. After a moment of deliberation and a glance over her shoulder, she extended the dull end of his spear down toward him to grab. If he did choose to get up with her aid, she at least saw to it that none were there to see it. Humiliation was not her goal.

"You're good with your spear, you know. I'm just better with my hands...but if my spear hadn't snapped, you would've probably had me long ago."

by **Kwantu** on December 14th, 2014, 5:52 pm

Many an opponent would have used that moment to gloat. No matter how close they were from losing, even if it was only blind chance, they'd smile mockingly and take their time savoring the moment. Some of the crueler ones would kick their opponent while they were down, to add insult to their injuries. He'd seen it happen to other Myrians in the few spars they had between one-another, and he'd been subjected to plenty of it himself. However, neither could Kwantu say that he'd remain as calm and honorable as the girl did in the face of victory. He had to respect her for what she'd done, both in the victory and what came after it.

The least she deserved was what she'd given. He bowed his head, swallowed what little pride hadn't already been crushed, and reached up to take hold of the spear. She could have let go, just as easily as she'd offered it; sent him straight back into the dirt from where he'd come. Eventually, he made it back to his unsteady feet and nodded. "Thank you.. I could only wish that I was as good with my hands as you." Corny as it sounded, it was dreadfully true - she had a way with her hands that seemed oddly reminiscent of his own father. Despite all the times he'd cursed to himself that he would have done better if he'd listened to the man, he could only do it now several more times.

"You were good with that spear too, you know. You should practice it more. If you get another spear, I mean.." He'd almost completely forgotten the two pieces of wood lying just a few feet from them both - a reminder of his own spear, still held in her hands. "We could practice together, if you wanted.. I mean, I know I'm not the best one out there, but I.. well, I.. dunno, maybe I could show you some stuff." Strange, how the situation had gone from tears to stuttering flusters in but a few ticks. His hand still held onto the blunt butt of the spear, and he tugged it ever so slightly while looking away. Shouldn't have to ask for my own spear back.. shouldn't have to ask permission..

Myrian Tongue | Common Tongue | Tukant Tongue

by **Kaie** on December 19th, 2014, 8:48 pm

Once the man had found his feet the Myrian found herself looking around the oddly empty location. Previously bustling with passing Myrians, the two youths were basically abandoned to each other. The girl's arms and legs felt heavy and the muscles almost useless from exhaustion. It took a chime or two before her heaving lungs had fallen back to their resting pattern. A trickle of sweat trailed down from her hairline, but that was quickly extermination when she wiped her brow with the back of her free hand. I'll definitely be sleeping tonight, she mused to herself as Kwantu spoke to her. Despite his downfall the man hadn't completely lost his pride. He did not curse her or try to make a cheap shot on her out of spite. The male merely exchanged compliments with her and aimed toward positivity. Part of her wondered if she too would behave with as much class had the roles been reversed.

"My father always believed a good soldier should master their hands first. He says it's a death sentence is someone disarms you and you have no unarmed skill," She responded with a shrug of her narrow shoulders. A small smile graced her young features. "I always thought I would spend all my time working with a sword or something...until I realized he was right. I'm sure I've got a scar or two to serve as a reminder. His method saved me today anyway." Her amber eyes took another look down at the spear she was holding, admiring its craftsmanship very obviously above her own. Certainly his wouldn't snap as hers had. I probably shaved the wood down too far on that end of the shaft...or maybe I made the spearhead too thick and heavy compared to the rest of it. Then, enlightenment struck her when he tugged on his end and her grin turned sheepish."Oh, right. This would be yours." She released the weapon immediately to her sparring partner, returning it to him. Walking toward the splinters that made up her own spear, she considered his offer.

"I saw the way you used the spear. It was way better than mine even if you're no soldier yet. We could help each other out." She shook her head and dropped the useless hand-made weapon back to the dirt. It was only then she seemed to remember that strange metal spearhead mysteriously gifted to her. "When I get a good spear of my own that won't break so easily, we should meet up. That way you'll get a chance to turn the tables and kick my ass, and I'll hopefully learn a thing or two. For Myri's sake, I felt like a baby holding a rattle trying to wield the damn thing." Kaie game the large splinters and rueful kick, which resulted in a round of whispered curses on her part, a consequence of giving wood the boot with bare feet. "Thanks for the spar though. It was good fun. I hope it helped you the same way it did me. I never had to defend myself from a spear with just my hands."

by **Kwantu** on January 2nd, 2015, 7:01 pm

Pretty much everything hurt. More so than he often got from a good session with his father, strangely enough. He'd be happy enough when he could turn back and go home for a nice, long rest. More than happy, in fact. When the spear finally fell back into its rightful hands, he nodded thankfully and used the butt to hold himself upright in the hopes that he wouldn't just fall over then and there. He'd likely need Kaie's help to get back to his feet. "Your father ain't wrong.. just wish I could find the motivation to do that stuff. It's boring, and it just feels.. useless." Why was he even bothering to say this shurak? "Using my spear and all the other stuff is just.. more.. fun."

That didn't mean that he didn't understand his terrible mistakes though. "If I'd put more effort in, perhaps our spar would have been more.. level." If he put as much effort into his work without weapons as he did with them, well, he'd never have to worry about being disarmed again like he was today. If anything, he could have used all of it to his advantage.. broken up and combined the use of a spear and with everything else just as she'd tried. It could have been a fight to really make the blood boil and the heart pound.. instead he was just left fighting for his life through nearly all of it. Hindsight let him see everything for how it was rather than how it'd seemed at the time - all he was doing was sparing a few more seconds on his feet, fighting not to fall on his fat behind.

At least there would be chances to redeem himself. "I think you might have to wait a while before I can turn the tables. I've never had to fight someone else with my spear before.. and I guess I'll have to work a lot more on fighting without my spear before I can start fighting with it." That sounded stupid the moment it came out of his mouth, but even with the stuttering, he pushed on. "I mean.. I don't even, like, feel like I'm holding a rattle. I just feel like a toddler trying to throw punches.. who knows, maybe, eventually we can work up something." Shurak, why was he so damn bad at this.

"But, yeah.. sometime. It was fun anyway, yeah. I guess.. I'll see you another time then." He couldn't think of anything else to really add on. They'd both admitted they were shurak and now everything looked like things were taking a turn for the better. Maybe it would, maybe it wouldn't.. that'd be seen in the future. If there was a future left for either of them. With hands still struggling to really grasp the spear so that he could lean against it, he waved rather crudely before turning and beginning a slow hobble out of the arena to mask the thick purple bruise on his shin. The adrenaline had worn off, and all the injuries were coming back twice as hard.

Myrian Tongue | Common Tongue | Tukant Tongue

by **Kaie** on February 11th, 2015, 9:47 pm

The young Myrian girl gave a shrug of her slender shoulders, eyes drifting back to the useless spear she'd crafted herself. It had been such a pitiful thing in hindsight. She wanted to hate it for snapping in her time of need. Keikyo, however, would be quick to point out it was the fault of the crafter, not the wood. Perhaps she'd learn to make a better one under the guidance of a good wood-worker. Then again, it might've been more worthwhile to earn enough Bikka through petty jobs until she could afford one of true merit. Maybe when the time came, it could be Kwantu who helped her make the best choice at the vendors. Surely someone who preferred the weapon and spent more time with it would have a better clue than she.

Yet that would be a long time down the road for two reasons. The first was the fact she needed to find someone in her village willing to pay her for some task that wasn't beyond her talents. And the second? Well, it was the fact her body was absolutely wrecked by their bout of sparring, defeat that should've been certain drove her almost to her breaking point. It would be some time before she could get back out there again, much to Yitmah's disappointment or pride she couldn't decide. To Kwantu's comments on effort, the young girl offered a weak but genuine grin. "Probably...just don't ever use that excuse at the Training Yards." She could only imagine their response to such a justification. Physical and verbal abuse came to mind. "That's all it takes though, effort. There's plenty better than me with their hands. Maybe you'll find one in your next sparring partner, and then you'll be the one beating me at my own game."

Without a weapon still intact, packing up and looking to part ways was easy for her. Kaie gave him a nod, flashing that exhausted grin again. "Yeah. It was fun. Maybe next time we're put up against one another it'll be in the Training Yards. Maybe sooner." And with no further dialogue she walked, or rather she limped, in the direction of her village. All along the way her body and its nerves were screaming in throbbing, sore agony. It wasn't until the two were far from earshot from one another that she finally began to curse to herself. With Caiyha alone as her witness, the Myrian girl grimaced all the way back until she fell into the comfort of her longhouse bed. For the first time that night, she was too tired to even dream.