Knives and Fights

[Merevaika]

71st Summer 515
There was a place to learn to fight. Merevaika needed it. The knife she held in her hand, a smooth, shiny metal from which light bounced of and left streaks on the surrounding buildings, was little more than useless to her. She couldn't use it, she couldn't fight with it. Lack of practise and lack of knowledge resulted in a useless weapon. This place could be the very answer to making it less useless.

It wasn't so much the fact that there would be teachers there than the fact that there would be students there. Merevaika was the kind who preferred to learn from experience than learn the theory and then put it to action. What point was there in learning moves that weren't designed for her? Wasn't it better to know how she fighted than how she should fight? Students there would be able to fight with her. That was what she wanted.

She entered with her head held high, hair swaying by her side, brushing against the newly bough leather armour she wore. It was accompanied with a new shirt, new trousers and new boots, a new outfit for a fairly new weapon.

The room was filled with Akalaks fighting, some with swords, others with the weapon she saw most carried - a lakan, it was called. Others were too fast moving or hidden behind others to distinguish their weapons.

But who would she fight? She knew no one, and currently all seemed to be busy. Perhaps if she stood by the door where she was, holding an expression of confidence, someone might approach her. That was what Merevaika was doing anyway. Hopefully, someone would be prepared to fight the incompetent Drykas woman. Hopefully.

[Duron]

Staring at the large mirror in front of him, Aferan held the lakan, so the metal blade of his lakan was pointing at the floor. Closing his eyes for a moment, the akalak inhaled a deep breath through his nose and released the breath out his mouth. Aferan started to widen his stance, so he moved both feet about shoulder length across than he lowered himself into the stance till he looked like he was riding a horse. The akalak could feel the muscles in his upper leg as he held the stance. The akalak did his best to fight past the pain, but he couldn't, so he rose slightly to alleviate the pain. It was a bad habit that he would need to break eventually, but it would not be today. When the tattooed man opened his eyes, he slowly brought his right hand with the lakan to his chest and placed his palm over the pommel of hilt. Bowing to the reflection in mirror, the cerulean stood up straight and focused his attention on the shirtless reflection in the mirror. With his left hand still on the pommel of the dagger, Aferan rotated the metal blade of the lakan, so the point of the deadly weapon was centered on the chest of his refection. When he was ready to start, the tattooed akalak slowly thrust both hands with the metal dagger at the center of the reflection.

Aferan looked to his left than he looked to the right side of him. While his unarmed left fist move to the left side of his ribs, the cerulean's dull green eyes fixated on a imaginary target to his right and slowly extended his right arm, so the metal blade of the lakan moved in a circular motion till it ended pointing behind him when the arm was fully extended. Slowly, the akalak moved his head to his right and fixated on a imaginary target to his right. Aferan started to move his left fist up in front of his face, brought it over his head, and turned his elbow to the left, so the cyan arm was protecting the top of his head. While Aferan was putting up his high block, the akalak slowly moved his right hand in a arch to his left, so the metal pommel was resting barely touching the skin in his armpit. The instructor told him that he wasn't Aferan to focus on the movement of the blade as he moved it to his left. Aferan noticed as it crossed his body, the dagger's sharp edges would slash any opponent in front of him if they got to close to be struck by the lakan. When he finished the first part of the offensive sequence, the akalak looked at the instructor for help, but the large blue man said in tukant with a nod of approval, “Alright you seem to know the first sequence of move. I want you to practice it for the next week than I will teach you the next segment of moves when you come in next. After you take a drink of water. Why don't find someone to spar.”

Aferan gave the man a slight bow of respect and said with nod, “Yes, instructor.”

When the instructor walked away to observe another student, Aferan sheathed his lakan and walked to the entrance of the school. The tattooed akalak noticed a proud human woman with leather armor observing the weapon school. The akalak gave her a respectful nod and said softly in common , “Excuse me...” The akalak didn't wait for the human to move because he already was walking past her. Walking over to his over to his shirt and water-skin, he picked up the water skin and leaned up against the wall for a moment to take a break. Looking at the woman, Aferan was curious if the woman was lost since she seemed to be waiting for something or someone. However, nobody seemed to approach her because they were to busy in training of their own. He wondered if she was new to the school because every other student would have just gone out and started to train, but she just stood there. After taking a long drink of water, Aferan corked the water-skin and set it down on his shirt. Feeling generous today, the Cerulean pushed himself off the wall and decided to approach the woman. As Aferan walked by the human woman, he tapped her on the shoulder to get her attention and motioned with his head for her to follow him. When he found good spot for them to spar, the akalak stood there silently as he waited patiently for her to arrive.

[Merevaika]

He first passed her with nothing more than a respectful nod and an "Excuse me", although the words themselves were only just caught, her mind shifting to Common at the end of the short phrase. Her eyes remained trained at him, the one of the few who weren't fighting, but instead drinking water, watching her with curiosity.

The second interaction was even simpler, a simple tap and motion of the head, words nonexistent. She followed slowly, winding between sparring akalaks, and feeling rather like a sore thumb. Everyone here, as well as being a different species, was a trained warrior, each seemingly masters at their weapon, at least from the eyes of the naive girl.

Lost in distraction, she stumbled into the man who had beckoned her to follow him, bumping into him with discomfort. Up close, the tattoos and muscular, cyan skin were a lot more impressive and intimidating, and she pushed herself away without a seconds thought. How was she possible expected to fight a man like this?

"I'm not very good - I've never sparred before," she immediately started, before cursing under her breath. What a way to make a fool of herself, and to make her less of a threat. Of course, this wasn't a life or death situation, and an easy fight would help her self-esteem, if anything, but no other situation would be an easy fight, unless she was fighting someone even worse than her, which was impossible. "I don't really know the rules - I don't even know if there are rules. But I'll give it my best shot."

She brought her knife into a more defensive position rather than hanging limply on her side in her hand, and stepped on foot forward, trying to do what felt right. "Do we just start?" she asked, hoping that there wasn't some sort of long ritual to greet her opponent. She had just come here to fight.

[Duron]

Aferan felt her bump into him, so he turned around to look at the human. She immediately told him that she wasn't vary good and never sparred before. When she asked about rules, the cyan man was amused because he wasn't quite sure what to say to the clueless human woman. The only rule in battle was to survive, but spars tend to be different. They were a control battle based on advancing one's skill and less of disabling your opponent permanently. There varying many rules for spars, but mostly don't kill or maim your opponent, but accidents do happen from time to time. Aferan did have a rule of no striking the groin because he would differently need to use it in the future. The cool green eyes of akalak nodded slowly and said simply, “In battle, the only rule is to survive, but in a spar, the aim of the spar is to advance each other's skill, so killing or maiming your opponent tends to be frowned upon, but accidents do happen from time to time.”

Taking out his lakan, the akalak waved the blade slowly in front of his face and said with a grin, “I guess. My only rules is not to strike me in the groin.” Looking at her from the corner of his eye, “I am sure you would agree, yes?” Sheathing his metal blade, the akalak looked at her and said with a nod, “Also I suggest that we use wooden training weapons for the spar. I doubt the healers at the Gilia Medical Center would appreciate us hurting each other for no reason.” Duron continued, “Since I was training with a laken, I will continue using it fighting you. What is your name? My name is Aferan Va..err just Aferan.”

When or if the human gave him her name, Aferan walked over to the wooden weapon rack and immediately looked for a wooden lakan for his spar with the woman. The akalak wasn't quite sure the woman's skill, so he would just go all out at first to judge for himself. Picking up the closest wooden lakan to his own. The akalak flipped the lakan in his hand to test the weight when he figured out it was to his liking. He went to a seclude part of the sasaran and did some practice swings with the lakan. The weight was vary similar to the metal counterpart, but the shape of the wooden lakan was generic, so it lack the soul of his weapon. Getting into fighting position, Aferan slide back his right foot, so it was behind him and sat into his stance, so his left leg was slightly bent. The akalak held his blade, so the wooden blade was coming out the top of his right fist. Resting the lakan on his right rib, the lakan had his left fist over his left knee. The cerulean waited patiently as she got her weapon and got ready to spar.

[Merevaika]

His rule was understandable, and she nodded to show that she would respect that. So, no other rules, really, but she doubted that even if there were any, they wouldn't come to play as she didn't have the skill to be able to counter his attacks, let alone try place her own. Still, she had agility and sheer luck was always on her side, so perhaps it wasn't as hopeless as she though.

The man made his way over to the rack of wooden weapons, and she sheathed her own knife rather disappointed that she couldn't use it. What he said had been true, however, and she reluctantly chose a wooden knife a similar size and shape to her own. Fairly long and thin, and similarly weighted, it was the best match she could find, and she flipped it from one hand to the other to test its weight.

She matched his position, sliding her feet out like him, and placed her knife firmly in her dominant hand, gripping it tightly until her nails dug into her skin. Her heartbeat rose, and her breaths became more irregular, even despite the lack of danger. The night of the slavers was the first to come to her memory, a memory fleeing and fighting for her life.

This situation wasn't like that, she reminded herself, in this situation, she would learn to cope better with ones like that.

Merevaika examined her opponent, trying to spot ways to attack, weaknesses he might had. Her initial examination revealed nothing, the man tall, muscular and powerful, with a stance that betrayed nothing but knowledge. He seemed to be made for the fight, and she couldn't determine anything. She hadn't expected to. If there wasn't something to see, she would have noticed it earlier on.

Deciding that it was time to start, she lunged, striking wildly out toward where the man stood. A blow like hers was on that would be easily blocked, countered or just ignored, but she felt eager to get it started. A smile built up on her lips, and she let her body take over.

[Duron]

Aferan noticed the human women took the same stance as the himself as they both got into position. The akalak was curious if she was a novice like himself because her skill level was currently unknown to the cyan man. He wasn't sure what was going through the mind of human woman, but she started to smile. Most akalak tended not to smile as they went into battle because the control of one's emotions were so important in their society. Smiling in battle was common place in the Cerulean Cult because the dark brother's tend to enjoy hurting or causing pain to each other, so Aferan wondered if he should fight like he was fighting one of his brothers if she enjoyed the dance of death as much as him.He tended to be stone face till he was either victorious or his opponent was dead than he tended to revel in there defeat. All in all, Aferan couldn't tell anything about her knife from her stance: however, the smile did slightly excited him.

The lunge came quickly, but the knife was thrust wildly at his chest. As the knife came at him, Aferan had a split tick to side step to his right out of the way of the incoming wooden blade, swing his unarmed left up across his body to deflect any attacks towards his mid body, turn on his heels to face her, and thrust the wooden dagger into her stomach. It all seemed perfect in his mind, but the execution was terrible. Aferan was able side step out of the way of the incoming knife, but the middle block didn't deflect the dagger because he stepped to far to his right. This error in distance caused his thrust of his lakan towards her mid section to miss because the point of the dagger missed by a foot. If they were in class this would have been fine because they were just practicing, but in a spar, he missed his attack and needed his second attack with his lakan to hit to win this round.

Aferan noticed that she was out of position, so as he brought his dagger back to his hips, he tilted his right foot to the side to help his balance as he lifted his left knee up and thrust the ball of his foot towards the stomach of the human woman. Since he wasn't a duel wielder this unarmed attack was the only thing that he could think of doing since he didn't have a second weapon. However, it was the same attack that he used against the Myrian woman Ayatah weeks earlier. He was curious what the human woman would do to counter his if not the kick would land and leave her open to his second attack with his lakan.

[Merevaika]

He attempted to dodge and deflect her lunge, but misjudged the distance, stabbing into mid air. Not the best then, Merevaika concluded from the first move, deciding that if he had more skill that would have come easily. Still, the lunge had messed up her position, and by the time she had thought to return to a more defensive stance, he had already moved on, ready to attack again.

He brought his dagger back towards his hips, before kicking out at her stomach. Just in time, she dodged back, tightening her few muscles to weaken the blow if it had hit her. Merevaika returned to a position of preparation, letting her companion do the same. It had been silly to let him get prepared, but she was too focused on herself.

This time, she tried to respond cleverly, darting to one direction. Her movement had been rushed, and she slipped to the ground, tripping over her ankle, but tried to disguise her mess up with a low kick, swinging the other leg towards his while catching herself from her fall, dropping the knife a little away from her. Without seeing if her kick was successful, she pushed herself forward, snatching the knife back up and spinning around, crouched on the floor.

She was vulnerable in the low position, so made sure to stand up the minute she could, knife hand out to try hit him and other arm ready in defensive. So far, it hadn't gone the best, but she was determined to make it better.

[Duron]

Aferan watched in frustration as his front thrust kick didn't connect with his target. Luckily, the human woman didn't counter attack. The Cerulean stepped backward without turning his back to the female. They were about equal skill, but he might be a little more refined in battle than her. Regardless, he didn't strike her with her lakan, so the round was a draw. Switching the hold on his laken, Duron held it handle up, so the blade went out the bottom of his hand. He would loose the extra reach of the last hold, but he would gain the use of using the sharp edges of the blade if it wasn't wood. At most, the human female would get splinter. Dropping into his stance, the akalak moved his left leg backwards, so his right knee was out in front of him. Resting his left unarmed fist on his hip, he brought his right armed fist over his head, so the arm was protecting the top of his head and the blade of the laken was sticking upward into the air. Patiently, Aferan waited for her to strike.

Aferan watched as the human rushed forward, but at the last tick, she changed direction. The akalak adjusted his stance to accordingly to keep her facing him. However, the woman's cleverness got the better of her as she dropped her weapon on the ground. If he had his spear, he would have impaled her at this moment, but he had his lakan a much smaller weapon. If he tried to attack, he would be at a disadvantage because of the size of the weapon. The human woman did have some spunk when she took the opportunity to try to sweep him. It was awkward kick, so all he had to do was step backwards and adjusted his stance to dodge her attack. However, when he moved backwards, he switched his arms, so the unarmed left fist was over his head and the armed right fist was by his ribs. Aferan learned from his unarmed combat instructor that both arms should move simultaneously either a attack or a block, but one arm should never move without the other moving. The tattooed akalak was happy that he didn't screw up his transition in his stance.

Aferan waited a tick and didn't see her attack, so he decided to press the offensive. The tattooed akalak quickly moved forward with his left and slashed the lakan in upward direction up her abdomen till the dagger and arm was back over his head. While his other unarmed left hand came down till it rested on his left rib waiting to attack. Aferan's next attack would be decided if he hit her with the upward slash of his dagger. If he missed, he would attack with a punch from his left hand and another slash from his right hand. All in all, he was going to win eventually. It was all a matter of time.

[Merevaika]

The man had been prepared for an attack when she tried, and had been ready to dodge her failed kick. Her heart dropped a little at realising that her attempt had gone wrong, but she hadn't exactly expected any better. It was a foolish unplanned move that was done simply to make her look better. Spur of the moment attacks rather than planned, predictable ones were good, but not at her skill. She was better of sticking to what she knew - nothing.

Not having time to thin about her previous moves, Merevaika turned her head back to what was happening, trying to focus on the Akalak and judge his next move. He pressed into his offensive, arms moving quickly as one moved to rest on his rib. Her eyes focused on this one, she missed the armed hand slashing at her abdomen, a hard, striking movement. It knocked her hard, but the armour she wore softened the blow and prevented splinters from the wooden blade.

Merevaika stumbled backwards, thrown out of balance. Her feet tumbled back, and another blue man moved out of her way, letting her slip to the ground. She had to focus on her balance. Whether or not it was directly beneficial to fighting, it would help on the defensive side of it. Merevaika made a mental note to remember it, rising. She was unsure whether or not the Akalak counted that blow as a finishing one, and either way didn't want to remain on the floor.

"Are we done?" she asked, flexing her arm, which had stuck out to catch her in a bad position. The elbow hurt a little, the joint sore. She didn't want to finish, and was happy to fight until she was bruised all over and her legs couldn't hold her, as long as it left her able to defend herself. Merevaika didn't, however, want to force this Akalak to do anything.

"Or do we continue?" she added, hoping he would say yes. She liked fighting, not the part where she hurt others, but the sheer thrill and excitement, that feeling of her heart racing as she hoped to be the one to give a blow and not take it. It was an art just as much as an offensive or defensive skill. It was beautiful, but only when both combatants had skill. She was pretty certain that her fighting seemed more like a comedy act than anything serious.

[Theo Popcampio]

XP Award!

Name:Merevaika
XP Award:

• Socialization 1
• Weapon: Knife 1
• Unarmed Combat 1
• Acrobatics 1

Lore:

• Experience is the best teacher
• Socialization: Revealing too much too soon
• The only rule of battle: Survive
• The thrill of the fight

Name:Duron
XP Award:

• Lakan 3
• Unarmed Combat 1
• Observation 2

Lore:

• The only rule of battle: Survive

Notes: Nice little thread. I tried to award what I could have in the way of skills and lore, please let me know if I missed anything. Mere, I definitely would have like to have seen you take more control of this thread, but it’s understandable considering your knife skill level. As always, please mark this thread as graded in the request thread.