Completed To Seek And To Strive (Kisetukai, Ethen)

[Isolde Seibold]

Isolde couldn't bring herself to comprehend how she had managed to attract the attention of the two fighters. She only knew that they were now both looking at her. She had interrupted them in the middle of their spar, and now both sets of dark eyes were on her, studying her. She felt one hand fly up to her hood, tugging on it, trying to conceal her features from the intense scrutiny that was coming from below. Oh gods, how had this happened?

The taller man, the one with the tattoos, piercings --and now that she had focused on him, scars layered upon scars-- bent down and grabbed the shining dagger from the dirt like a giant picking up a fallen star. She felt her fingers twitch, her shoulders contract in, hunching, as if making herself smaller might make him less likely to attack. To her surprise, she felt words prepare themselves at her lips. What was she doing? She couldn't talk to them, to him! She could barely talk to normal people, stuttering and stammering. Still, her mind worked furiously to prepare the words, as if she was in a boat and sinking fast, and they were the only way to bail herself out. She felt the words coming. They would go something like, Oh, yeah. Haha... that's not my dagger. I don't know where that possibly could have come from. In fact, for your troubles, keep it! Don't mind me, I'll just be going now! And then she would get out of here and go home and avoid this place forever, and who cares if she was down one dagger and still totally unable to defend herself? It didn't matter, surely it didn't!

Then he began to talk in a rough voice, and the accent was thick enough to strangle her, foreign in her ears. The words died in her throat, and it took her almost the length of his two, short sentences for her to realize through the haze of fear that he wasn't being... well, menacing. In fact, he seemed to be... trying... to help... her?

"Keep better hold of blade!" He said, showing her a grip. Her eyes barely flitted down from his face, only capturing the smallest glimpse of what he was trying to show her. She was sure the shock was something tangible, scribbled all over her face. "See? Much better!" And then he tossed the blade into the air --making her flinch again-- but the practiced movement was only to reorient its position in his hand. Then he was tossing it towards her, and she was certain --despite the slow, lazy arc of the blade in the air-- that somehow it was going to manage to pierce right through her, perhaps her heart, her head, and then everything would be black. And then Lhex would swim into view, she would look up and he would be standing over her, unsmiling, ready to usher her on to a new life full of fresh torment. And she would surely pay in the next for the many sins she had committed in this life. She couldn't say that she didn't deserve it.

But then the dagger just simply clattered to the hard flooring of the stands, a little to the left of her, and her head turned sharply to look at it. Once more it was a foreign object to her. She still found herself wanting to shout at them, No, no, that's not mine! The words wouldn't work themselves free. Eventually she went to retrieve it, grasping it lightly before returning to her seat. Wait, what was she doing? She was messing everything up. She had just, apparently, been given a free pass. She even had the dagger back, and no one had tried to harm her. It was a miracle. She should take it, savor it, and get out, before one of them changed their minds. Worried that that might have already happened, Isolde turned her attention back to the others. But it appeared that they were focused once again on each other. Relief blossomed through Isolde's chest.

Curious and cautious, she fiddled with the dagger. Her mind flashed back to the man's grip on it, and she tried to approximate that. She wiggled her fingers into place, spreading them a little wider than before, carefully wrapping her thumb around. Tentatively --making sure the leather sheath was in place-- she hefted the thing, and rolled her wrist back and forth, keeping the grip firm, and the new grip seemed to be working. Brow furrowed, she twisted her wrist a bit faster, swiping the sheathed blade back and forth as a child might in play. Somehow it managed to stick to her palm. She hadn't even dropped it again. A small smile thrilled at the corners of her mouth. She knew her accomplishment wasn't anything magnificent, but hey. Considering what a goof-up she was, it was progress.

Almost happily she looked back up, watching the two start up their fight once more. The smile quickly fell from her face. The shorter, darker one was striking quickly at the other, one punch at his head, then popping up for an even quicker swing, and then really muscling through a third. And then the other one simply stepped up, into harm's way, she thought, and somehow he managed to block the big punch. His head hammered forward into the darker one's nose, and his knee flew up and... straight into the other's crotch. The dark one staggered back, dropping to a knee, and she thought she saw red dripping from his crunched nose. The taller one approached, standing a few feet away, and appeared to be talking to the other. What was it, she wondered, that he said? Was he taunting the younger man, or... or perhaps instructing, as he had with the dagger? Was that brute a... a teacher, a trainer? She doubted that even with him teaching her, she would ever be able to go from 'learning a proper grip' to the combat ability that these two now displayed. She made a face, shaking her head. Best to go home, write it off now before she hurt herself.

But somehow she found herself enthralled by the two. It was the way they moved, their practice, their poise and flow. Their confidence. Despite the sickening violence, the carnage dripping from the face of the "student", the lesson was almost... pretty, in an absurd, bloody, unorthodox sort of way. There was an art to it, yes, and skill. That was evident. Despite herself, the Nuit was transfixed. She kept flexing her hand on the dagger, trying to memorize the spread of her fingers, the feel of her thumb wrapping around, while she stared on...

And then there was a loud, dusty thud. The Nuit nearly jumped out of her skin, and her eyes focused on a... well, she couldn't really see. But she was certain there had been a loud noise. Not being able to locate the source make her nerves rattle once more. She clutched at the dagger's hilt more tightly, peering around.

[Razkar]

Razka braced himself as he saw dark muscles tense on Kisetukai's body, eyes bright against his black skin as he readied himself. The beat was getting louder now; the pulse stronger, even though this was technically business.

Technically. But when you're getting paid to do what you love-

Then something else fell into their little arena. Something larger, louder and more... squishy. Both human and Myrian stepped back with muttered curses as a blond human crashed down to the sand in a cloud of rotten wood. Razkar stepped back lightly as a greatsword as long as his body crashed down with him.

There was a brief, stunned silence, broken when the Myrian snarled low and turned his eyes up to a sky he thought was mocking him.

"If a dead Dhani or a bag of gold doesn't come down next, I am going to be annoyed..."

The dust-and-splinter-covered bundle stirred and Razkar approached, taking in the new arrival. He looked to be about Kisetukai's height, but even though the layer of dust Razakr could tell the human was younger. Muscles not as bulky as the black human's, pale and with a hop of messy blonde hair. Green eyes looked up in confusion... and found six-feet of borderline-angry Myrian staring down at him.

"Enjoying the view?"

Razkar said in that pleasant tone that masked something definitely unpleasant. He put his foot on the hilt of the fallen great-sword, leaning his weight onto it just in case the human panicked and made a grab for it. He flicked a glance at Kisetukai, who looked as surprised as he did a minute ago.

"One moment, student. Have to deal with this..."

He looked back down at the fallen boy, who was fast recovering himself. Those green eyes had some depth to them, not the glassy fear he was expecting from a human at his feet... but when they tried to harden in the Myrian's gaze, they found naught but onyx orbs staring back at him, backed up by an expression so carefully neutral that kindness or crippling could come with equal speed.

"You interrupt my lesson, boy. But is nice day and I must be..." his lips curled in distaste "... civilized, in this place. So, either pay like this one did, or get out, and I will not break anything important. Sounding good?"

OOCNo problem, dude, I was wondering when you'd get round to posting. An unorthodox arrival, I'll admit, ha!

[Ethen Calden]

Ethen was recovered from the fall but couldn't get up since the foreign warrior was standing on his greatsword which attached to his weapon harness. "I'm sorry Ser but I couldn't stop myself watching your spar and way that you fight is unbelievable. I love to learn how to be better as a warrior like yourself. I can't afford a lesson but I can give a service or a piece of knowledge as a trade instead? But first could you step off my greatsword since it is attached to my weapon harness first though?" Ethen said with stars in his eyes.

After if Ethen could have stand up. Ethen came up to Kise and said "been along time since we met each other. How you been kise?" Asked Ethen. "I need to calm down the guys down, I know fully what happen to angry warriors" thought Ethen.

OOC :

sorry for the wait and shortness

[Kisetukai]

Thud!

A quick blur separating the warriors made Kise instantly jump back, as did Razkar, and it was a good thing they did. Observing the scene, it was a boy, a young boy with a huge sword attached to him. Razkar stepped up and took the initiative, handling the situation. Stepping on the boys sword, it seemed that he was determined to show the world just how barbaric he was, after all that was no way to introduce yourself. Kise watched as Razkar spoke to him, telling him that he wouldn't be able to stay if he wasn't willing to pay. They talked and talked and frankly, Kise grew annoyed by the waste of precious sunlight, he dint like his practice being wasted.

A few more seconds of watching the boy on the ground, he began to piece together something. He had met this boy before. Somewhere they had met each other, he just didn't know where that was exactly, nor did he care at the moment though. He just wanted to get on with his lesson, and this was possibly K's emotions leaking on to him, but it didn't matter. Although K had much to be desired for, Kise looked up to him, Kise looked up to how he was exactly. As Razkar let the the boy up he came up to Kise, his voice a bit kind, he addressed him. Apparently they had met before, he knew his name, sealing the deal. "Uh... Yeah long time no see. I've been great, just training hard as always... Ethen!" He said almost shocked, he remembered his name now, Ethen. 

"Yeah, this is my teacher for the day... Razkar. He's trying to teach me how to become a better fighter... Although the lesson is paid for and I really don't want to waste it so..." With that being said he crouched, began swaying a bit yelling out to his teacher. "Razkar prepare yourself for another round ok? And Ethen, if your not gonna pay then step off mate."

Round two... He was ready. Everything now just depending on Razkar and Ethen.

[Razkar]

Razkar cocked an eyebrow as the two young humans exchanged words. It seemed they were acquainted, but... no... he didn't believe this little meeting was planned. The blond human - Ethen, wasn't it? - had literally just dropped in.

Another squire, too, by the sound of that strange "Ser" he addressed Razkar with. He'd always thought it was an accent variance, but apparently "Ser" with an "e" was meant to denote a knight. Which, naturally, amused the devilry out of Razkar, being addressed like one of those armored barbarians.

He had little time to dwell on that, however. Kisetukai was taking his training seriously, apparently, and quickly shrugged off his friend's questions. The Myrian's eyes flickered from one to the other. Something about this "Ethen" prevented him from getting... overly-physical. His youth, perhaps. So instead he cleared his throat until Ethen turned his way.

Razkar opened one hand palm up. "You pay." And then the other one. "Or you leave. I not care which. But you choose. Not give free train. Not to human I not know and not owe."

Ultimatum made, the Myrian shuffled the blonde youth to secondary status in his mind and concentrated on his student. He cracked his neck muscles quickly, readying his hands... giving the human a quick smile.

"Still want to hear about Dhani?"

He waited until the human's mouth opened and then exploded towards him, right fist jabbing towards his head-

-blocked ably enough by the squire, boxer's training diverting Razkar's blow-

-and his left, which came in for a gut punch-

-but when he reared back to retaliate, the Myrian had sidestepped to his left, swinging out with his left leg at Kise's right kneecap-

"Place that bend always good place to hit," the Myrian grunted out as the blow connected, but only just, dark-skinned human sliding backwards to avoid the most of it, "Elbow and knee. Hit them in direction they not meant to, can bruise, break. Cripple. Enemy with petched knee or elbow? Missing arm, missing leg. Easy to finish-"

Razkar surged onwards, coming in low and then spinning to Kise's side, left arm straightening to slam a backhanded blow into his kidney, knees bent and ready to launch him away from whatever flurry of blows he knew the squire would end his way in retaliation.

OOCOK, let's get this rolling, Kise. Ethen, sorry if this sounds a little uncompromising, but I'm trying to stay in character as far as Razkar goes. He won't give you jack for free.

[Kisetukai]

"What did he say? Something about Dhani?" K yelled to Kise, rattling his mind an almost making him jump in the process,

"I don't know what he said K... But..." Kise's fist clenched with emotion, not rage, he took fighting seriously. And he wanted to show the man who beat him senseless what he was about, what the fist that he wielded actually possessed. Strength. "I don't care!" He yelled inside of his mind, sliding right up to Razkar with his body in motion. His right fist propelled forward with a jab, nicely executed of course, but it was blocked just as nicely as it was done. Kise was pretty excited that he was able to block that blow, but wouldn't let his emotions show from his face until he the fight was over, for now only his fist. Then Razkar exploded up with a left, where was it headed, that was most likely the stomach from Kise's point of view. Quickly thinking on his toes, Kise slid back, rearing a bit. He was honestly a bit confused about another simple punch, but didn't care to to ask, he knewthat Razkar liked to fight different.

Instantly, he felt a pain crack into his knee, his right kneecap. He winced as buckled a bit as the sting caught on, seeing Razkar's left leg retreating back like a vicious lance, looking up at his face as motion sped back up to normal time. Razkar began a mini lecture midfight, he knew that his blow was gonna hit the young boxer, and that infuriated him. "Damn... " Kise whispered a bit, stomping his leg to the ground as he began to numb the pain with sheer willpower. "That... I can handle." He said softly. He listened as Razkar told him of the topic of joints, breaking snapping cutting, it seemed that he really did whatever to win. As he flew in at Kise, he didn't even give him a chance to speak. "But-!" Razkar spun, and a quick flying backhand was coming Kise's way. Immediately catching on, his body snapped out of boxing mode, as Razkar brought out something in him he thought was dead.

He was a fighter, a boxer on the outside, but a true fighter on the inside. He would do whatever it took to win, of course he never had to, being in Syliras his whole life. He didn't even notice, he didn't even care to think of what he was doing, he didn't even know. And in all actuality, Razkar had brought out his fighting spirit once already, when he fought him and Kise went for the takedown. Now it wasn't just boxing, it was more than boxing, it was using your body as a weapon to defeat your opponent. Kise's body shifted to his left, Razkar's left backhand smacking into his exposed left side, as Kise pushed himself into the blow. It was almost like a parry, except he used his body to absorb the blow, taking it all on. Slamming down his tucked left arm into a wing, he planned to capture his fist or forearm in between his tucked arm and his body.

 "Where's the honor in that!" He yelled out as his fist propelled in sharp hooks aimed at Razkar, it was so fast that it was a blur for him, blending his boxing as it bled into street fighting. Regardless if he hit or not, he shoved his body forward to push Razkar back, separating space as he jumped back. His body then exploded with a move that his patron taught him, a sure knockout for a knight, but not so simple for him. He body spun clockwise as his left hand slapped the ground, spinning wildly, his right leg flung up as he proceeded a spinning heel kick. Aimed to knock out Razkar, it was sloppily done and slow. He had no idea what he was doing, because he wasn't himself, he was just a fighter.

This was a fight... Practice. But still a fight.

oocHey Raz, I took a LOT of liberties here but I want to stretch and show the fact that Kise is starting to learn to fight a bit differently if needed or pushed to far. Now since I took so many liberties here... I would love if you just allowed it, and beat the hell of him kinda. He threw a sloppy lazy kick, (boxers don't kick) so you can German suplex him, or whatever you want. Do whatever you want to him... Well don't hurt him too bad please. Remember we are training, so yeah, ya know. Maybe Razkar will be happy he is trying to use his body more. I know this is definitely unarmed but is it brawling ya think? Lol well anyways have fun with that.

[Razkar]

Razkar did not expect for Kisetukai to surprise him. He'd fought boxers before and while they did have... a certain flair, they weren't the most creative of opponents. Their whole world was from navel to eyes, experienced with only two fists. So the style aspect was not too worrying for him.

Surprise. No. Perhaps that was not the word. When his arm ripped around and smacked into Kise's side, a wet, painful sound of knuckles grinding flesh, the last thing he expected was for the youth to step into the blow-

-slam his elbow over Rakar's hand, pinning it-

Sacrifice. That was the word, and that was what he wasn't expected.

"Where's the honor in that?!"

Razkar wanted to smile at the irony but simply didn't have time; he barely had enough to jerk his free arm up before a flurry of blows smacked into it, over and over, gauntlet-covered hand sending shudders of pain up and down his arm-

-then into his side, his shoulder-

-the Myrian gritted his teeth and bore it as best he could, trying his best to rip his arm away but the boy was strong, tenacious and unwilling to suffer again-

And then, he threw it away.

He shoved Razkar back and the Myrian just blinked in shock. What was he doing? Why was he breaking the hold? He had him, on his back in the sand (well, metaphorically speaking)! Then the squire spun, going low, bracing one hand on the ground-

What the-

-and kicking upwards with one leg, body perpendicular as his foot spun towards him, using his arm on the ground as a base and a pivot.

"Stupid!"

Razkar twisted to his left, uninjured right arm jerking up to slam into the boy's spinning leg just above the foot, palm open-

-snapping closed around it, absorbing the shock of the impact. Razkar's side screeched in agony, blows from Kise's hands bruising muscle and bone, but he pushed through it. Only pain, after all... his constant friend. The squire was now motionless, hands on the ground, feet in the air, one of them held by Razkar-

-chest and stomach exposed-

-and with a barely-audible snarl of disgust, Razkar swept his right leg up and into Kisetukai's exposed torso, finishing his spin, knocking the boy off his feet (well, hands, more accurately).

The Myrian took a moment to contemplate twisting his ankle, or perhaps just using both hands to throw the boy into the wall, like last time. But... no. This was training, not a fight. Skilled as you might be, no-one would train with you if they ended up crippled and battered every time.

Instead he just let go of the leg and let it flop down to the ground with the rest of Kisetukai, unsteadily getting back to his knees, clutching his bruised chest.

"Stupid mistake!" He spat, circling the boy and vomiting out his words angrily, accent only intensifying around the Common. "You had me! Arm trap, making punches, could have finished! But let go for kick? And stupid kick?! Did that work, hmm?"

Kisetukai got up to one knee and Razkar lashed out with his foot, a quick kick to the squire's shoulder that knocked him onto his back again.

"Feel that? Feel what I hit with earlier? Those are kick! That... show off shit, you can keep! Shit get you killed in real fight."

He made a move to turn away and then abruptly stopped, as if remembering something.

"Oh, and before you bring honor again, remember that when man is down? That is best time to kick him! Not mention honor again! Pointless shit..."

No, Razkar had not expected to be surprised with Kisetukai... nor at himself. But there he was, pacing like a caged tiger and shaking his head, waiting for the human to get back on his feet. Once he was, Razkar bared his teeth and charged in again, coming from the left, leading with a punch-

-only to slide away, his charge and punch a feint-

-sidestepping to his right, in front of Kisetukai, right uppercut aimed squarely at his bruised guts.

OOCOK, Kise, go ahead and reply and then we'll let Ethen join this. I'm going to have you both attack Razkar at same time: one unarmed (Kise) and one armed (Ethen). Like I said before: challenging. It won't be at full-speed, but it will mean both of you get a chance to learn and fight.

[Isolde Seibold]

Isolde soon discovered the source of the disturbance in the yard. There were jeering calls from a couple of the men in practice as a young man --though he might be considered a boy-- tumbled from his hiding place in the stands in a shower of rotted wood. The Nuit frowned, and rapped her knuckles dubiously against the seat she herself occupied. It seemed sound enough... perhaps the boy had just been unlucky.

Well, he seemed unlucky now. The teacher --that was what she was going to call him-- was standing over the boy, and didn't seem all that friendly. From his expression, she would guess that he was... annoyed by the disturbance. The Nuit leaned forward, dagger still held tightly in one hand, and rested her arms on the railing, settling her chin on top, attention focused solely on the group. The dagger in her grip swung idly back and forth in the open air, and she felt a particular... calm, despite her surroundings. Perhaps it was because it seemed that not too many people were interested in her, even taking account of her... obvious difference. There were simply much better things to see in the Pit than a small, unobtrusive, young woman, no matter how peculiar that woman was. There were those sparring, for one thing. The teacher, who seemed to have mastered combat --at least to Isolde's untrained eyes-- and the student, who certainly wasn't at that level but making up for it with tenacity. Besides, the student was definitely on his way--

As if to punctuate her thought, there was a break in the back-and-forth of their sparring. The teacher shot off a punch that smacked solidly into the student's side, and that really had to hurt. Isolde ducked her face, closing one eye, mouth grimacing-- and then sat bolt upright, mouth coming open in sudden surprise, as if to say oh! The student had, for lack of a better word, tricked his teacher. As soon as the punch impacted, the student's elbow came down like a manacle, and try as he might the teacher couldn't seem to pull it free. He was left with only one hand to block, and she supposed the student was also left with one hand only, but somehow there seemed to be a disparity. The student was on the offense. Quick and precise and with what looked like a whole lot of strength, he was pummeling the punches in, at the defending arm, at the shoulder, at the ribs, lone fist flashing. Somehow that gauntlet seemed suddenly to shine more brightly in the sunlight than before, leather and metal glinting gleefully as if relishing the use. Isolde felt dazzled and disgusted and the mixture of emotions was very disconcerting; she had to look away, she didn't like the sound of the punches as they closed in, but damn it, she couldn't look away for long.

The Nuit brought her eyes back up in time to see that the teacher had somehow gotten free, and then-- he snatched the student's foot from the air, delivering a swift kick to the trapped boy's chest, knocking the student over, off his hands, sending him onto his back in the dirt. She was startled to find that she could actually catch some of the words that the teacher was spitting out, though the majority remained lost to the other noises of the Fighter's Pit; she was doubly surprised by the venom in his raised voice, the way he prowled around the younger, fallen man. The student tried to get up and the teacher kicked him back down, and Isolde shrunk back, confused as to why he was so very angry. She hadn't heard enough to put it all together. The student had been doing well, had he not? So why this reaction? Was the teacher angry because the student had, momentarily, bested him?

It seemed that way. The teacher couldn't wait to beat the younger man down again. The student was allowed to get back to his feet --something Isolde was grateful for-- but hardly a tick later the teacher was on him again, knocking out a couple punches, punctuating them with a swift fist right at the student's stomach--

Isolde must have looked like a complete and utter tourist, sitting there slouched down like a rabbit in the high grass, eyes wide, hood slightly askew, expression twisting back and forth like the movements of the gruesome lesson unfolding below. She had nearly forgotten the dagger in her hand. She had nearly forgotten that she was supposed to be wary, looking around, making sure nobody was approaching her. She only remembered to be terrified of what was going on below, of the teacher's powerful rage and the student's dogged determination to keep on going. She was somewhat disturbed by how enticing the whole thing was.

[Kisetukai]

Thud!

Kise's body smacked the ground as Razkar countered his move, for once, being spontaneous failed. Didn't he do every thing that he was told and taught, when all else fails, he listened to what he was told. Razkar had told him to use his whole body, his whole body was a weapon, so why was he so frustrated with that attack. Perhaps he was just a master in unarmed combat, and even a prodigy like Kise stood no chance, hell this man would give his patron a run for his money... Maybe. The most devastating attack on Kise's heart was through fighting, there was many ways, but fighting took the cake. Razkar had already destroyed his pride, and admitting defeat had gave him a small boost, but this was just awful. No matter where he turned to... He was wrong with this man. He was wrong with every single move he made. Was he a boxer? Was he a fighter? No... It was not the time to be thinking like that again.

Slowly, after a bit of coughing, Kise slowly gathered himself. Beginning to get up while listening to Razkar's words, they were words of disappointment, apparently Kise had him. When he had his arm he was in the positive, but letting him go for the kick was a failure move. Understandable. Razkar was spewing out words like some mechanism, he was apparently pissed, or just one passionate teacher. Kise listened and grunted, finally making it to one knee and getting ready to speak back. Quickly, a brilliant kick to his shoulder sent him back down, falling over like a young doe. "Gods..." He said with a cough as he hit the ground, the floor not feeling like a good place. Apparently his kick was not only useless, but it was shit, complete utter bullshit. "No..." Kise said to himself softly as he rose up, slowly making it back to his feet, looking at Razkar. "I just wanted to-" He was cut off as he was thrown back into combat, Razkar blazing up to him before he was ready. "Dammit!" He grunted as he saw the left fist shooting for him, sliding to the left himself.

The punch and motion of Razkar died, as his body swiftly moved under Kise's vision, until he slipped past his left side of view. Turning his head a bit slowly, the last moves had him still a bit brain dead, the next blow only added. Smack! Once more Razkar made contact, to the same area, and it hurt like hell. His insides blazing, the uppercut not only winded him, but made his fall forward as he begged for air. He couldn't breathe... "Oh...." He muttered out softly as he quickly dropped onto his stomach, thudding the ground, it all hurt. Be for some reason, he was becoming used to the pain, or at least this form of physical pain. Rolling out of dodge, he didn't want Razkar to beat him any further, at least not for a while. "Ethen..." He said as he stood up, slowly walking over and past Ethen. "It's your turn to fight that bastard... Razkar I'm taking a quick break!" He said loudly, walking over to area where he dropped down to fight, he stood against the wall, right on the ground with left on the wall. Arms folded, he huffed and puffed until it turned to the occasional sigh. "Get him good Ethen... I'll be ready to go in a bit." Kise shouted out proudly. Glancing at the dark woman above, he returned his sights back to the practice, just trying to show her he still noticed her.

This was only the beginning.

oocHey ok this is what I'm basically doing, I'm getting assessed ooc right now with my cs and thread turn ins and stuff. So right now I want to give Ethen a quick 1v1 chance... I can go fix some stuff. Of course he isn't an unarmed fighter so that will end quickly, so I'll be good to go in a bit. Well let's see

[Razkar]

"Ethen... It's your turn to fight that bastard... Razkar I'm taking a quick break!"

"A what?!"

To say Razkar was angry by this point would be something of an understatement. Incandescent, furious, volatile to the point of fiery rage... these would all be apt description. His wide, disbelieving eyes flashed from the staggering Kisetukai to the hesitant Ethen, then back again... only to find the dark human tottering away.

"Get him good Ethen... I'll be ready to go in a bit."

There was a snarl as Razkar turned his eyes upwards and stalked impotently, his erstwhile student climbing out of the pit and leaving him there with this waif called "Ethen".

"This is not how you train," he snarled to himself in his own tongue, "How does he expect to improve if he runs away after a few good digs? Petching weak barbarians..."

"You not get gold back!" He yelled upwards, though Kise had since vanished from view. "You pay, I teach! You not stay for teach, not my petching problem!"

No answer. No argument. No conflict and, thus, no venting for his outrage. So the Myrian turned his supernova glare onto the awkward-looking human. For a long chime he just stared, smoldering, chest heaving, tattoos and scars seeming to writhe into each other. Finally his eyes flickered down to the massive sword... then back up to Ethen... and he leaned forward a little, biting out two words.

"Wait. Here."

With that he hauled himself up and out of the pit, vanishing beyond the rim. The blonde human was left alone in that hole, staring up at the blue sky and listening to... what sounded like terse words and clacking wood...

And then having to dodge as one of them was thrown down next to him.

It was a broadsword. Well, the wooden, practice version of one, almost as long as his own. There was another, heavier thud as Razkar touched down again, wooden weapons in his belt.

One a gladius, the other a hand ax.

"Want to train?" He said bluntly, tossing the gladius to once side and swiping the hand ax through the air. Hmm. Weight was off, but the balance was surprisingly good. "He pay twenty mizas. You? I take ten. But we not do shit until I see gold?"

The Myrian crossed his arms and something made him look up.

It was the female. So scared-looking, almost on the verge of tears, and despite his disgust for these barbarians, Razkar found himself... not wanting to be the cause of that fear.

You're a teacher here, but a bully. That was how you came to pound on that boy in the first place.

He sighed and gestured to the wooden broadsword, manner and tone softening a little.

"Come, pick up sword. You pay, I teach..."

OOCFine by me. Ethen, cough up the mizas and we'll get started. Since you're main weapin is the broadsword, I thought we'd go with that. Don't worry, we'll definitely throw in some Unarmed/Brawling as well, whichever you want. Razkar's style seems to stress using weapons and bare hands at the same time.