Room for More?[Private]

[Ambrose Wheeler]

Ambrose offered Kayn his hand, helping him up and watched him as he moved away. Immediately slipping into defensive mode as Licen entered the ring, knowing full well he wasn't a push over.

Seeing the sword coming toward him he held his own out to his side, pressing his other hand against the flat of the blade to keep his guard the best he could but it was broken under the force, making him take a step back. Once he sees the sword coming again he knew he couldn't block it this time, he was still recovering so instead he leaped back to escape the impact, slipping on some mud as he landed, almost forcing him off balance. Regaining his composure he turned in the mud, doing a 360 as he swings his sword back at Licen, hitting the highest point in his defense so he'd easily block it. That's what he wanted, he thought with a small inner smile. If he made impact he'd try to shove the man back and strike again, he couldn't afford to have his defence broken again.

[Nil'kayn]

Kayn started to retract his shield waiting for it to get back into shape. Watching the fighters, he saw both had skill, but he could see Licen seemed to be the more veteran of the two. Watching how they moved, there small body ticks would give him an advantage. In the back of his mind it occurred to him that "Spider" and Erato where taking some a long time, but he ignored that thought promising to himself to check up on them later. After his sheild was retracted which would take a minute, he would get up grab his battle axe ad step onto the field. He gripped his battleaxe in a two handed grip, widening his stance; smileing. "Ready boys?"

[Licendous Gestral]

Licen smiled ambro had skill but he couldn't utilize the mud which licen could sliding back on his heels licen easily dodged the strike from ambro as he ficked the sword upside down in his hand and kicked his leg out and sent him self spinning into a full three-sixty degree slashing arc. Smiling he knew that he would be blacked and at hat point he would use the momentum to spin back round and land a punch to ambro's face with his right hand. Licen was a big bulky man but he was always one for speedy fighting. If that didnt happen and he wasnt blocked then ambro would end up dodging and jumping outside the circle. If the plan worked than the punch would send ambro reeling maybe not flying but certainly reeling. Then licen would ly into him with a three strike assault of sweeping attacked changing hands from left to right and back again.

Licen was ambidextrous meaning in a fight he was a force to be reckoned with as he could switch hands at a whim, which allowed him multiple tactics for assault as well as defense. Licens eyes faded from their resplendent green to a orange, yellow and red mix like a fire burning in his eyes. This signaled the dawn of combat mode, the state where he focuses solely on the fight and nothing else matters.

[Ambrose Wheeler]

He slid his sword into the attack space to block, using all his might to hold seady from the blow, seeing Licen spinning he tried to block, managing to get his hand up just in time to hit Licen's, though it was only enough to to tweak his hand up and not enough for him to miss. He got sent reeling back, stumbling a little as the hand he tried to block with moves to his face, blocking his view. A rooky mistake in a fight against someone with any skill. But he wasn't fully unguarded, moving his sword in front of him for any defence he could muster, having a small line of sight between his fingers he saw Licendous moving closer and tried to use his sword to block, managing to only block one strike before stumbling out of the circle. Then it struck him, he had lost this round.

[Devmond Incarnata]

Devmond let her continue kneading her fingers into his skin as he pondered her words. It was strange to compare his own purpose to something as pure as her own motivations. Her reasoning found its strength in its simplicity. Erato was not heatedly preaching like a lunatic or, like a pharisee, proudly displaying her values in an organized list pulled out of her pocket. She was more than just a healer, Erato was a good person. Of course, ‘goodness’ to him had been something as ridiculous as world peace, true love, or a world without magic. His own pessimism clouded the glass of his magnifier, leaving everyone in dark blotches of sin. How could this one woman escape being contorted by its bloated images, where he twisted them ring by ring till the mark was found, and come out still so perfect? Even in the moon, it had dark spots that could not bear the light of the sun while it waned from night to night. Yet, here was Erato, never wavering, as consistent as Vitaras’ steady heartbeat.

“Yes, then if that is your desire, we do have much in common. It was very temping to want to retaliate against Nil’kayn for wounds received, but those blows would have been more damning then his own. Violence is only the tool of those who cannot understand a better way. There must have been a reason that the gods allowed our minds to develop our own philosophies and innovations. We were meant for a greater purpose then simply reacting like mercury to every change. I may not be a healer, but I plan to heal in my own right. My brother, Vileras, was murdered some years ago. It has taken many years for me to let go of that hate, we never did find his killer, but I know now that I had to take that lost life and renew it again by my actions. The god I worship, Vitaras, is the god of blood. He protects the life of those that honor him, and I plan on bringing honor to those inheriting my name.” Devmond said. He wondered how she would react if he posed a different question. How did Erato feel about blood shed for a greater benefit to a larger pool? As tempting as it was to ask this potential surrogate, Devmond realized that already this subject matter was getting dark. There was also something else nagging at him, a raw bite in his stomach, that made it feel wrong to even think about setting that on her. “Who are your people, Erato? When I first saw you and even till now, I have not been able to determine what is your heritage.” Devmond said. “I hope it is not too intrusive to ask directly, but, I can only be curious since you do have that mysterious air about you. Perhaps you descend from the exotic Akvatari or the rare Charoda?”

There was a little flirtatious flare added to the end of his question. Even in the darkest of times, Devmond had a hard time being completely serious. A dry sense of humor always hung even during his brother’s funeral, contemplating the amount of time it would take his Uncle Hadave to get slapped by his wife for falling asleep only a minute in. Most found Devmond to be even-tempered or even stoic, those that did not know him well. His closer acquaintances or enemies soon learned to decipher the ever-changing movements of his smile. Even compliments could become harsh sarcasm at only a twitch of the corner of his brow. At the moment, he had turned to Erato with a teasing smile and wide eyes of admiration at the form they reflected. Yet, the closed fists really told that Devmond was still searching to find that dark spot. There had to be something that would show a weakness before he blinked, and missed it.

[Nil'kayn]

Kayn has seen Ambro stumble out of the circle. He felt the surge of adrenalin, which pushed him into action. Without skipping a heart beat he let out a roaring battle cry. His where in a widened stance his axe in his hand. He had no plans to rush forward this time.

[Licendous Gestral]

LIcen sheathed his sword and drew out the kama this would be a good weapon for combating the 2 handed axe he could latch onto it and use it's momentum for his own gain, the taste of mud and battle lingered in his mouth. He grinned as he looked at nil holding the kama upside down to allow him looping motions, with every strike. Licen was no fool in battle he knew that there was no one size fits all style but he knew that speed was important so he employed it well with every motion and strike going for as much fluidity as possible. Running at nil he slid along the ground as he got close sliding to what looked to he nil's right but in-fact he was using that to push him self in the opposite direction. This was going to be a close rang battle he was not used to the weapon he was wielding but his foot work was his strong pointy having spent countess hours honing it to suit his sword he was graceful for a man of his stature. The fire burning in his eyes and the glow of his red arm, licen flexed his fingers as he went to drag the axe with the blade of his kama and then punch the flat of the head of the axe sending enough vibration down it to knock it loose of nil's hands if it didn't licen would be in pole position to deliver a strike to nil's abdomen.

[Erato]

She had been particularly hoping to avoid that. All the simple (and somewhat awkward) work at his neck and shoulders had been to gain closer examination towards his wound, but it seemed her efforts had been in vain. As soon as she felt the man turn underneath her hands, they went completely still and fell, like the petals of a blossom, softly back to her lap. Her cheeks were warm again as her eyes immediately averted from the face turned towards her, too many things running through her head to speak any one in quick response.

There was certainly companionable sorrow for his loss. Erato had not yet lost a loved one, but also lived in the belief that all souls passed would return again, perhaps not in full memory of a former life, but would at least continue its blossoming journey through the eternities. All the same, to never see a brother again, even a jealous sister—even Devmond admitted to the pain. Though he could certainly be upset, he did not see violence as a good path, an honorable one. That wasn’t quite what she pictured when thinking of Vitaras, but as Devmond had pointed out, assumptions leading to misconceptions were already quite common towards his people.

That thought, however, was a very small one, a single thread in the blanket of confusion that enveloped the konti nearly every time those golden eyes set on her. The larger portion of it was focused on his last spoken sentences. Mysterious? Exotic? Rare? Such adjectives had never been applied to her, nor could she find a way to justify such a view of herself until the words had been spoken by him. Her logic immediately tried to soften the impact, knowing that her kind was an uncommon species on the mainland and that Devmond had apparently met none of her kind before now. So she would naturally appear new and possibly even exciting to him, just as he had been for her. Had he seen her among a crowd of her own people, however, his view likely would change. A pearl among pebbles is a rare and beautiful thing, but a pearl among pearls has only its flaws to make it differ.

And yet her heart was fluttering. To think that such a man (and an ambassador at that), would think of her, a simple healer, as something mysterious was very pleasant flattery. She had always fancied her life as being mundane and simple, the thoughts and musings of her mind a mere escape from it. Yet here she was now, sitting in a situation that was both the stuff of dreams and nightmares, and every moment of it was as real as the grass at her feet. When Devmond looked at her like that, spoke words like those, she felt… truly different, special. Maybe, just maybe, if he had seen her in her simple home, sitting among the fine and athletic konti fisherwomen and craftswomen, he would have still found reason to look at her the way he did now.

“Konti… konti are direct descendants of deity, one the master of the sea and the other a blessed mother raised to divinity. We carry the mark of both parents, in scales and higher divination, born of water and fortune and flesh. Due to a… particular nature of delicacy, my kind lives away from the mainland, on a peaceful white island known commonly as Konti Isle. My attempts at healing are poor at best in comparison to the renown of my people in their knowledge and skill in the art. All things are art unto us, nature and craft alike, and those that visit Konti Isle seek such from my kind.”

[Ambrose Wheeler]

Ambrose moved away from the circle some, sitting down and watching Kayn and Lican spar. It was almost as exciting as actually being in there, he thought to himself as he laid back then propped himself up on his elbows.

[Devmond Incarnata]

Perhaps he had glimpsed her sin, a misperception of the great arts of her people. Nothing sounded more the life for a wretched, cursed half-breed to Devmond then the life of an island dweller. The violent sun free to bake and bubble his thin skin. Deceptive winds, as consistent as what men said of women’s hearts, turning to violent black hurricanes to topple your shelter. A salty sting engulfed you north, south, west, east. No escape down into shadow by the hot, worn-down shifted glass that pitted a mile deep would fill with seawater. Yet, she spoke of this life with a quiet voice that lifted as a feather to heaven. Such glory was told in her lineage, the children of gods. No matter how Devmond turned and turned the white isle in his head, he could not concoct, in his imaginative stew, peace turned perfection to exist where seagulls fought for scraps. It was not far to fetch that Erato could gloss over these details, just as he had wished to love his own people, creating a diamond out of an ordinary stone.

The rarity of her lineage gave Devmond more to spark his fiery motivations of lust. To be touched by a literal goddess! He leaned in hungrily, his fists loosed to intertwine with the grass near her legs. The ignorance of her race’s existence should have taken him to consider its problematic implications; his rising excitement was drowning logic to sink his mind to another place. Nothing could tear him away now from the closeness of their eyes. His golden circles flashing with lifting desire. “That white isle sounds as if something from a dream, a place where gods dwell among you. So beautiful in fact that I would never leave it.” he whispered. “You said before that you wish to heal those that are in need of your gifts. Was this why you left, because those that live on that shore are already whole and unbroken? Erato, you say that you dare not boast of your gifts, but even your humble influence has touched at least one heart. In time, I could see you becoming a powerful healer. Who knows, perhaps you could even soften the hard ways of our fellow companions within time.”

It was so easy with her. To speak these gentle words, touched with flattery and sexuality, came with a smoothness that was sweet even to his experienced lips. There were many women, a few men even, that had received equal attention from his needs. He spoke of their gasping sounds, gestures of the tips, and large acquirements, coquettish or bawdy, to flatter them on a silken cord to his bed. Now sex was easy; everyone, animals galore, could have sex. Devmond did not bother to gloat that he did so. What was truly an achievement was the ability to please. He did not care that he got the woman where he wanted, what was desired was her to say how happy she was to be there. For Erato, it did not escape his notice how she would blush as her fingers would trace his skin, or that priceless look that came when she heard his opinion of her. Every prompting of those views sent Devmond a thrill, she took every little gesture so well. It was more then enough, for now, to make her smile.