Closed [Kendoka Sasaran] Whetstone (Cephei)

[Razkar]

25th Day of Winter
11th Bell

Razkar was becoming something of a fixture at the Sasaran. The sight of the tattooed, dark-skinned Myrian striding through the double doors, scalp-hewn cloak over his shoulder and weapons strapped to his belt did not elicit any glares or mutterings.

Then again, this was not the forum for gossip or idle glancing. This was a place of crashing wooden weapons, barks of pain and short, sharp instructions from the robed and hardened teachers that filled it.

This was the classroom of Mizra Aqdas, and he knew his subject well.

The eight-foot-tall Akalak was at Razkar's side when he turned from the donation box, already depositing his usual ten gold mizas. This fine hall was worth the money, he had found. He couldn't stop the short intake of breath when he turned and his vision was filled with nothing but towering Akalak, however.

Mizra permitted himself a short chuckle.

"Old men can move quietly, didn't you know?"

"I do now, teacher."

"More of the usual, Razkar?"

The Myrian clapped a hand on his gladius, signifying without words what weapon he wished to train with today. His hand ax was certainly his preference, but mainly for offense. Nothing felt more natural to him than the heavy, honest cleaving of flesh and bone with that weapon. But the gladius was his defense, his parry and block, and only a fool would concentrate solely on attack without the means to prevent one against himself.

"Yes. You free for spar?"

Mizra nodded. In fact he was between sessions with his students; other, junior instructors were taking the reins today, teaching and correcting the several dozen white-robed students sparring and swinging across the white mats covering the hall's floor. All training weapons, of course. Wooden ax's, wooden swords, wooden daggers and maces and even leather whips... but all the means to learn the real thing.

Which was what Razkar needed. Not wanted or desired; swinging steel was no mere hobby for him, it was his profession and, in more than one way, his religion. This place was one massive whetstone for his body, and whenever he was in Riverfall, he came here.

"I think we can-"

Then the doors open again, and with the arrival of a new student, the need to Mizra to be Razkar's opponent departed.

RecieptTraining: 10gm.0sm.0cm

[Cephei]

Cephei headed to the Kendoka Sasaran for a little bit of training with her Tulwar sword. She was pretty competent with the weapon, but one could never gain too much knowledge of their weapon. She walked up to the doors, trying to slide them open, then realizing they do not slide. Cephei blushed to herself at her stupidity, glancing around quickly to make sure no one was looking. Once she verified that her stupidity was her own secret, she pushed the doors, and they swung open. The young Konti woman stepped inside and was greeted with the sound of shouts and wooden practice weapons, as well as stares from some of the people inside. Cephei felt a little bit nervous at having so many eyes upon her, a pink hue flooded her pale cheeks as she brushed her pale hair behind her ear, glancing around the room with her violet eyes.

She decided that the best move, was to walk about from the sunlight pouring in on her, making her hair glow. As it seemed to have brought too much attention to her person, making Cephei’s stomach roll with tension. She turned back towards the door and shut it, and proceeded into the training room. It was a large open space, with wooden floors, and wracks of weapons lining the walls. She did not get too far in her exploration, as a towering Akalak came upon her. Cephei’s body tensed in reaction as the man approached her. His physique screamed strength, as well as his confident stride. His dark blue eyes bore into her violet ones with an intimidating stare. Cephei placed a hand on her hip and gave the stare right back to the man, not letting him scare her away just because she was female. The man approached her and spoke in a rough yet smooth jovial voice, that soother Cephei’s nerves a little.

”Welcome young one to the Kendoka Sasaran. I am Mizra Aqdas, the Grand Master here. What is it that you came here to learn today?”

Cephei cleared her throat, letting her light sing-songy voice carry out to the man. ” I was coming to train with my Tulwar sword, at least I was hoping to do just that.”

”Your skill level of the sword?”

”It is competent.” Cephei replied simply, glancing around at the other students. She did not understand why he was asking her so many questions. She just assumed she was allowed to come here when she wanted, and train with what she wanted. She did not realize that training was exactly a freedom here. Cephei sighed and looked up at the towering man.

”Hmm.. I have someone that you might be able to train with today.” Mizra smiled mischievously and looked behind him at another tall man, not as tall as him but still taller than Cephei. He had rather long hair, and dark eyes that glittered when they laid upon her own eyes, making her feel like he was looking through her. She noticed that his right eye started to twitch slightly; making her wonder if the man was angry at Mizra’s suggestion. She had to admit that his piercings were rather intimidating to say the least, and she could not stop herself from rubbing daintily at her small nose. Not only that but his cloak looked to be made out of something weird. Was that scalps!? Cephei was beginning to get worried. She was ready to train however, and did not care if the man put her with an expert swords man or novice at this point. It had been many days since she last trained, and her muscles were starting to grow a little stiff.

[Razkar]

You can't be serious...

Those were the words that ran through Razkar's mind when the woman was presented to him by a smiling Mizra. She looked so... delicate. Razkar had never seen a porcelain doll before, but if you were to describe one to him, that's probably what he'd think of when he looked at the woman. Shorter than he, thinner, with pale skin, long white hair and eyes that were huge violet eyes. Her reaction to him was what he expected: apprehension mixed with fearful curiosity.

"You think this is good idea?"

Mizra was not by any means a stupid person, and though he did sometimes indulge in word play, this was neither the time nor place. This young woman was new to his Kendoka, and he would not over-worry her.

"That's not the question, is it, Razkar? Can you tell me what is?"

Razkar didn't take long to formulate an answer. When he first walked into the Kendoka Sasaran, a season ago, one of the first things Mizra had secured from his new student was a solemn promise that he would visit no harm on his opponents. He wasn't a base beast, but he was a Myrian, and bloodlust was something he was raised with.

But more than that, Mizra knew on instinct Razkar was a killer. He was good at it, he trained hard at it and, whether he knew it or not, he enjoyed it. And he would not have such an individual prey on his students.

So it was a testament to his progress when the Myrian eventually nodded and said, "Can I treat her with respect, and keep my word? Answer is yes."

"Good." Mizra extended his arm, taking in a training mat and a rack of weapons. "I'm sure you can assist your partner. I will be watching."

And then he left; turned on his heel and walked away, footsteps eerily light for so huge a being. Razkar watched him go and then walked to the mat. As he expected, the young woman followed him. He stripped off his Cloak of Fallen, hanging it up along with his tunic and breeches.

It felt good to be back to just his loincloth. These damnable barbarian winters were like a-

Then he muttered something that sounded like a curse to Cephei's ears. He turned to face her, light from the window above them showcasing in detail the topographical map of scar that seemed to cover his chest. Not to mention the tattoos. The one on his back she had already seen, dozens of tiny skulls spiraling from the middle of his spine...

"Sorry for being rude." He said, Common improving but still hindered by his guttural, growling Myrian accent. It clashed with his gracious words, not to mention to respectful bow he gave. "I am Razkar of the Shorn Skulls. You name?"

[Cephei]

Cephei watched the exchanged between Mizra and Razkar. Razkar did not seem keen to be training with her. She hid the pout that wanted to come out at that, by wiping all emotion from her face. She was pretty damn good at the Tulwar sword, just because she looked fragile and weak, did not mean she would not make a good sparring partner. Cephei sighed and followed Razkar, waiting for him to show her what she needed to do first. As it seemed this place had it’s own rules and way of doing things.

But then the man started stripping and she could not help the reddening that brought her pale cheeks, she tried to avert her eyes but when the cloak came off she saw is strong physique covered in scars in tattoos. A small gasp left her mouth as she viewed his tanned body. He had a scar covering his chest that looked awful painful, and tattoos everywhere. His body was full of scars, tattoos, and piercings. His appearance was so exotic, and his lack of clothing made Cephei look away, blushing like a little girl seeing her first naked man. Which in all honesty she had never seen another man without a full coverage of clothing. Besides her Gill, but he was like a father to her, this man was not. She kept her eyes to the floor, when the man grunted out his name and asked what her name was. His common tongue was not perfect, but she could understand him quite well, his accent though was extremely exotic as well. She could not help but wonder what “of the Shorn Skulls” meant, but assumed it had something to do with his cloak. Cephei abandoned her examination of the exotic man and looked back up to his face, looking him in the eyes with a cool confidence she found with in herself, the blush still lingering on her cheeks.

No, you were not being rude. My name is simply Cephei. I hope you are not too mad that you were paired with me. I think I will surprise you though. Cephei gave the man a soft warm smile, that reached her violet eyes.

[Razkar]

No, you were not being rude. My name is simply Cephei. I hope you are not too mad that you were paired with me. I think I will surprise you though.

Razkar had only been walking the world for a score and six years, but he had learned to differentiate between arrogance and confidence. He'd seen the latter many time, and knew that it seldom supported the skill it crowed about. More than that, it led to hubris, one of the many mothers of error, but certainly its most loyal. Confidence, however, was colder, and harder. It was born of experience and intelligence, the amalgamation of practice, patience and perseverance.

That was what he saw in those violet eyes, belying the smooth and feminine exterior. Cephei's stance, too, was the poised, steady one of a woman who knew her weapon, and her abilities.

A slow smile spread over Razkar's face, revealing teeth sharpened to points. It reached his eyes, too, but those black orbs seemed a little more bright now. A challenge. The meat and wine of any true warrior.

"I hope so, mistress." He said, then pointed to the racks and hooks. "Can put up clothes there. Get wooden weapon like one you have."

He watched and waited as she did as instructed, shedding clothes as needed and replacing steel for wood. The Myrian noted her weapon critically, mind already switching to its fluid yet pragmatic mindset.

Long reach, and a lot of force behind it. Tricky...

"Might want to make hair tight." He said when she was nearly ready. "Make easier to move, see, not have hair in face."

When she turned again, he was ready: feet apart, knees bent, gladius held in his right hand in front of him, blade perpendicular, left hand loose but bent at his side. Hunger and anticipation danced across his face, and Razkar nodded.

"Attack me."

[Cephei]

Razkar’s eyes seemed to glow slightly, when he smiled back at hair, telling her it was a true smile with a hidden agenda. Then he spoke in that weird accent he had, his common tongue coming out slightly strange. He told her to undress herself and she turned to do just that. She removed her silver cloak, revealing her cerulean blue shirt and beige pants. She stood there considering that was all she needed to take off, but then she looked down at her cotton clothing. It could prove to be a hindrance to her movements, and not only that her clothes could become dirty. As it was, Cephei abhorred washing clothes, it was not a favorite past time of hers. She removed her shirt and pants, placing them on the racks as well, leaving her in just her undergarments. If it had been something else, she would have been mortified to be so naked in front of others. Since she was training though, it seemed only right. Besides if he was going to show off his muscles, she would show of hers. She had a plush exterior to her body, a feminine one, but once she started sparring he would see the rippling tone of muscles underneath that small body she had.

She grabbed the wooden sword she needed for the spar and turned around, but was only directed once more to pin her hair up. The man was quite right, she had really long hair, it brushed the top of her rear, and it would only prove as a hindrance to the spar. She turned once more to fix her hair up to keep it out of her way and out of her eyes. She turned around once again to see that the man was already in his fighting stance. His knees were bent, with his feet apart, the short blade in his right hand. He simply said “Attack me.” When she turned around.

He did not waste much time to get down to the fun part of this meeting, which made Cephei more than happy to oblige him. She lifted the wooden blade in her hand, feeling the weight of the weapon, slowly turning it feeling the movement, letting her body become accustomed to the difference of a wooden blade opposed to a metal one. She kept her feet slightly apart, but kept her body fluid. She nodded her head, signaling she was ready, and took the first swing at the man. It was a fluid motion, swinging the blade from her body in a side-ways motion, but using both hands to put her weight into the blow. The sound of the wooden blades echoed in the room, as she continued her fluid onslaught, swinging sideways, then lowering to deal a blow lower, raising it to go higher, switching from right and left movements, keeping her body loose and fluid as she started to turn in circles, doing the dance of swords with the man.

[Razkar]

Razkar had been right: she could put some force behind her blows. Every swing of the long sword sent a shudder down his arm as he jerked his gladius left and right to block her. She was no shrinking violet either; arms not bulging with muscle like a man's, but lined with ropes of them, sinewy and strong.

But her movements were what put him on the hated defensive. Fluid, graceful, and practiced. She swing to his right and he blocked the blow but within a moment she had drawn back her sword and swung for his right, and he only just stopped her.

Not just his ribs, either. His shoulders, his legs, his pelvis, she bent and straightened her body as she needed to, forcing him back-

Enough.

She swung to his right again, a flat horizontal blow, and instead of just having his gladius meeting it, he threw his weight behind the block, vertical short sword knocking her wooden tulwar to her left-

-as he stepped forward in the same moment and brought his blade whipping down onto her right forearm.

The woman yelped in pain and swung back again with a right, Razkar jumped back to avoid the blow, wooden tulwar singing through the air in front of his belly-

-swinging from her left to right-

-and he bought the gladius down in another short, fast strike against her left forearm instead. She held her weapon with both hands, making it harder for him to strike at her chest... but not her arms.

Razkar danced back from the woman, circling around her in quick, sharp steps, tossing his gladius to his left hand, blade leveled towards her. No smile alighted his fac now, but his eyes were wide and joyful. Maybe this won't be so challenging, he thought idly, realizing his mistake even as the treacherous hubris sauntered across his mind, but it's still good to practice-

Cephei lunged forward again and proved him wrong.

[Cephei]

Cephei’s attacks were not easily blocked at first, but once the man got her rhythm down with the sword dance, he started to block and attack, hitting her on both of her arms. The pain bloomed and stung, but she ignored it and fought through the pain. This simple dance was proving not difficult enough in this spar, so she decided to add a little spice to keep the man on his toes.

She swung her sword in an arc, connecting with his wooden blade, like she wanted to, but the force made her sword vibrate, so she only assumed that his did too.

She knew this probably shocked the man, giving her lithe tiny body, and she used that to her advantage, deciding to hone her acrobatics as well during this spar, she kept her sword in one hand, swinging her body in the air, she managed a rather wobbly flip, not over the man but more or less over his shoulder.

Landing swiftly behind the man’s back, crouched down on her feet as she did not land standing up, but rather on the floor, she did not let this slow her though, she swung her sword against the weak spot on the back of his bent knees, not too hard but with enough force to make him crumble, making him stumble and go down to his knees.

She wasted no time in her efforts, when he came down to his knees she strike him on both of his arms, and circled back around to face him, the blade held in her hands, defending her body, ready for his counterattack. She got him back for the hits on her arms, now they were even.


A small cold smile crept upon Cephei’s lips at the man’s astonished face. He thought he weak because of her size, and she was happy that she proved him wrong, by using that false judgment against him.

[Razkar]

OOCBe careful to roleplay within your Character's level of skill. Doing a flip over a standing six foot tall man isn't the work of a novice acrobat, neither is knocking him to his knees AND hitting both his arms before he can even turn around, especially when that man's a much more seasoned fighter than she.

His flesh stung but that was a soft kiss compared to his pride. Not that Razkar was unused to being beaten by a woman: his instructors at Taloba were all female and he rarely finished training with them without a handful of bruises. But for a barbarian to outmaneuver and strike him so easily?

It came as something of shock.

Remember what you promised, a warning voice in his head whispered as they circled again, a tight, cold smile gleaming on Cephei's lips, no harm... but that doesn't limit you completely.

Razkar lunged forwards, swinging from his left to her right side, and her tulwar jerked down to block it-

-and at the same moment their swords clashed, his foot lashed out and caught her under the kneecap.

There was no yelp this time; her jaw tightened and her eyes blazed but by some teaching or craft, she was holding back her pain. But the damage was different, and she wobbled on her feet, slashing back at him-

-he stepped forwards, into the swing, right hand jerking in front of both their faces and slamming his open palm into the two-fisted grip that she had holding the tulwar. The impact stopped her tulwar dead before it could reach him-

-and by the time his hand struck, Razkar finished with a horizontal chop into her right kidney that did make her yelp. He took advantage of the pain, the confusion, that temporary blindness that both caused, and stepped back quickly, switching back to his right hand.

"Not just weapon is used." He said, circling her again, feeling a twinge in his knee from she she's rapped him. "Can used anything in fight. Long as you not die."

[Cephei]

OOCShould of PMed me so I could change it, that way it would be more real. I do not mind changing things that may not sound right, just PM me and let me know


Razkar's sword connected with her knee cap, it did not hurt that much, He connected with her soft spot on her right side with his sword. Pain bloomed on her side, making her confused with the pain radiating through her body. Cephei yelped out a small feminine protest at the pain, her hand instantly going to her side out of habitat. She gritted her teeth and glared at the man standing before her. She was going to make him pay for that one. No pain, No gain. Cephei repeated these words in her head, as she made her body loose and fluid once again, shaking the pain off and putting her mind back to work.

Then the man spoke again, "Not just weapon is used." He said, circling her again, "Can used anything in fight. Long as you not die." Cephei nodded, her teeth still clamped together. He wanted to play it seemed, so she would play too.

Cephei moved her sword to her right hand, and began to circle her opponent, she lashed out with force and speed, swinging her sword in an side ways arc, he blocked it easily, but she kept coming at him in speed and repetition, putting force behind every swing. Her muscles began to get tense, rippling underneath her plush exterior, and a small sweat began to form on her forehead, trickling down her back, rolling over the scales that laid there.


She did not think that she would manage to get him back for the punch in her soft spot, unless she distracted him somehow. But how was she going to distract this man? She couldn't get naked, it seemed his focus was on the fight, and would not waiver. No it needed to be a shock, he needed to be shocked, and in that moment she would be able to strike. She kept up the fast fluid swings from left to right for two chimes, then she changed it, blocking his swing that came down, she kicked out with her left leg trying to connect with his side, but missing and hitting his muscled thigh. Cephei cursed under her breath, and kept blocking his blows.