64th of Fall, 518AV
Even though Ixzo understood little Common, it had not taken her too long to catch whiff of the Proving Grounds. She understood they were associated with some gang, although what gang that was, she had forgotten. But what she had learned is that it was a training grounds for various weapons and styles of combat. Skills that are so valuable in a city like this, and to a person like her. The Kelvic was itching to get her hands on a sword again. She had not touched one since the sea attack on the Endrykas, and even then, chopping the head off a dead body was not the same as fighting a live person. It was an opportunity too good to pass up.
Still, Ixzo did had learned to mistrust everyone and everything in this city, so when she entered the establishment, the lion kept to the corners. Immediately someone approached her, and the man seemed too intent on Ixzo’s tattoos. The lioness crossed her arms, planting her feet and watching his approach. Anyone who worked for this place would likely have more skill than her, but she had ego and will. If for whatever reason he was to attack her, she would fight back. Within a few ticks though, his eyes finally assessed her face and when finding the swirl tattoo on her face, relaxed.
“I don’t suppose you are affiliated with any gangs?” He asked, and Ixzo squinted at him in confusion, trying to digest his words. Gangs, he wanted to know if she was apart of any gangs. Ixzo shook her head. “No.”
He seemed satisfied with this option, and spoke a little slower now, understanding that common wasn’t one of her best languages. “When you decide what you want to learn, come to me. Bring coin.”
He said, and then wandered back off. Ixzo watched him go, not sure if she understood the conversation completely, but satisfied with the results. Silver eyes scanned the open air structure, seeing many people sparring or using practice dummies, and a few people watching or waiting. So she wouldn’t look so left out. Ixzo began limping towards one unarmed combat arena, where two grown men sparred. One was large, incredibly muscular and tattooed nearly as thickly as her. The other was more conventionally attractive, pale and muscular, but not too much so, with a perfect swoop to his hair. Even drenched in sweat and fighting off an attacker, his hair seemed to stay still. Ew.
Ixzo stooped on the fence around the arena, choosing the only other witness around to stand by. Immediately she propped her left foot on the lowest rung of the fence. It was thoroughly swollen, and it hurt, but the brute of a woman was deciding to ignore it. She had decided to ignore it for two days, and it only seemed to get worse. She wore sandals, even though it was fall, because her ankle was evenly purple and thickly swollen. She was not used to seeing bruises so apparent on her dark skin, but this, while not the darkest she had seen, was obvious. The curious part was she hadn’t hit it on anything. She had twisted it. She was sure she didn’t break it because she could walk on it, but the crack she had heard when she had done it had concerned her at the time. Still, the Kelvic was able to spend anytime resting, and since she could still at least hobble, she was to continue life as normal, even if it hurt.
Word Count: 592
