Closed Crossing Blades, Crossing Paths (Tyral Moondrinker)

[Jack Benefort]

20th of Summer, 513 AV

It was a sunny day in Riverfall, and Jack was enjoying it as much as he could. Riverfall constantly reminded him of Zeltiva, with its bustling ports, sunny days, the smell of the sea painting the air. In truth, Riverfall had proven the most surprising place he'd been to yet on his journeys.

He had generally known what to expect in the towns of Sylira. Sunberth was, well, it was Sunberth. Lawlessness and quite a lot of unexpected experiences were the norm, and anyone traveling there knew that. Nyka was legendary for its Celestials and their monks, and it would be hard to get caught off guard by their presence because of that status. Ravok was the floating city and the bastion of Rhsyol worship, as well as the home of the fearsome Ebonstryfe. While altogether a scary place, with its almost mindless worship of Rhysol, the very intimidating Ebonstryfe presence, and the constant feeling that outsiders weren't very welcome- it still wasn't a huge shock to Jack. He'd known people from Ravok who spoke of its strangeness. Syliras of course was a massive town, nothing can really be thought surprising when you put that many people together.

But he had not expected Riverfall. From the outside, the city seemed to reflect the strength and warrior spirit of the Akalak. He had expected the whole city to be such. But upon entering the gates- Art! Beautiful architecture unlike anything he had seen. Gardens that seemed unreal in their beauty. And the gardens were everywhere! They seemed to cover the whole second tier of the city and looked like a beautiful tapestry draped over the cliff when viewed from the third tier. And the waterfalls from the Blue Vein! Everything about the city threw what Jack thought he knew of the Akalak back in his face. These people were truly much more than warriors.

Now, standing on the edge of the third tier, Jack thought of all these things, and of all his experiences on his journey so far. But along again came the ocean breeze, and his thought went to his home. He remembered fondly the ten years he spent training almost daily with his shortsword. Removing it from his belt, he played around with it a bit, spinning it in his hand and doing a couple of slashes he had engraved into his muscle memory. 'It would be nice to have someone to spar with again.' He thought to himself.

[Tyral Moondrinker]

Tyral found himself on the third teir of Riverfall, lost in thought, as he often was these days. He missed his family very much. They resided back in the Flotilla further north, stoically waiting their Lia's death as her health declined quickly. They had bid Tyral farewell warmly, with much singing and ale, for they knew the desires of adventure that lay in young mens' hearts. So here he had come, to the edge of the Sea of Grass, waiting for an opportunity to learn something new, to meet someone strange. He didn't plan on leaving the Sea; no, that was preposterous, but he did want to make some stories and laughter along its edges.

He shook the bands of metal encircling his left wrist, making them jangle sweetly. A smile crossed his lips as he thought of the Akalak girl from The Leaky Hull who had given him the jewelry as a parting gift a few nights prior. Fierce warriors and fierce lovers they were, these strange blue folk. He just needed to improve his fighting. He hadn't sparred in a while. The Svefra fingered the cutlass at his waist, tracing the short string of beads that hung from the scabbard. It had been his grandfather's and someday it would be his son's. A glint of sunlight off of metal caught his eye and saw a man standing a ways down, swinging his short sword in practice strokes. Perhaps it was a sign that his thoughts had matched his environment so perfectly. Here was his chance to spar, and perhaps make a new acquaintance.

“Ho, friend,” Tyral yelled out as he strode purposefully up to the man, keeping his distance, respectful of the blade in his hands. “I see you've got a liking for sharp things,” he laughed, his eyes filled with humor. Bowing low, hands out at his sides, he introduced himself, “I am Tyral Moondrinker of the Moondrinker pod, servant of the sea.” Standing, he placed a slender, leathery hand on the hilt of his cutlass, drawing the man's attention to it. “Perhaps you would like to get acquainted with a friendly spar?”

[Jack Benefort]

Jack found himself very pleasantly surprised by this turn of events. No sooner had he wished for a chance to use his blade again than that chance had presented itself. A Svefra who introduced himself as Tyral Moondrinker approached and offered to spar. Jack had not yet met a Svefra he hadn't liked- though in truth he'd only met a few in anything more than passing. They were a relatively carefree people, and they worshiped Laviku, which was an especially common practice in Zeltiva as well. Though Athanasius had never raised Jack to be a devout follower of any particular gods, Jack had on his own developed something of a love for Laviku over his years growing up in Zeltiva. He was a benevolent god who provided rich, bountiful blessings to all people who depended on him for life and sustenance. Indeed, if Jack were to declare himself a true follower of any god based on what he knew of them, it would be Laviku. And what a blessing it was the he provided even now, in the form of one of his people.

"I should like that very much, friend." Jack said, a grin stretching from ear to ear at the opportunity afforded him now. He then took a bow himself, "And I am Jack Benefort, traveling swordsman and teacher, hailing from the city of Zeltiva." Standing back up and replacing the sword in his sheath, "It is always good to see a fellow follower of Laviku. It would seem he has rather graciously provided this meeting, as I am just as eager for a good spar. Where would you like to go? There is always the Sasaran, and the Arena is available as well. Either way, we should get going to the first tier, friend."

[Tyral Moondrinker]

"I should like that very much, friend. And I am Jack Benefort, traveling swordsman and teacher, hailing from the city of Zeltiva. It is always good to see a fellow follower of Laviku. It would seem he has rather graciously provided this meeting, as I am just as eager for a good spar. Where would you like to go? There is always the Sasaran, and the Arena is available as well. Either way, we should get going to the first tier, friend."

Tyral smiled, his eyebrows raising at the mention of Laviku. It was especially portentous that he had dreamed of swords clashing in the dark, water pouring from where the blades struck. A laugh escaped his lips and he grinned. Any lover of Laviku was a friend of his.

“I think the Sasaran would best fit our needs, don't you, Jack?” he asked, turning to lead the way. He led the way down the tiers, through the crowds of people, taking in the sights of Riverfall along the way.


OOCTerribly sorry for the length. I wanted to post something before I get wrapped up in Father's day stuff all day.

[Jack Benefort]

OOCIt's all good friend.


Jack let Tyral lead the way as the maneuvered through the bustling streets of Riverfall. It was truly a prime example of your usual day in Riverfall. Akalak citizens working their various trades. You saw them going to and fro everywhere. Some tended their gardens, adding new foliage or crop, removing the dead and the weeds. Others shouldered huge barrels and chests, moving supplies from one shop to another, or carrying things to port to either sell or send away as shipments. Some ran various small to large shops throughout the city, selling an endless variety of wares ranging from delicious local fruits, to the famous wines, to beautiful gemstones and more. And their were many more peoples of varying different races. Humans, Konti, even a Dhani or two were a common enough sight in the streets, operating businesses and going about activities that were boundless.

The bustling nature of this city served only to remind him even more of Zeltiva, albeit a somewhat more foreign version of it. But even in spite of a slight homesickness Jack could not help but adore the beauty so clearly on display in Riverfall. The beauty to be found in so many different peoples living and working together in one place. The striking natural formations that comprised the city itself- things like the waterfall of the Blue Vein. To the wonders they had accomplished here- feats like the Menagerie, which Jack made a mental note of to visit at some point. It was truly a wondrous city.

As they walked through this wonderful city to the Sasaran, Jack determined to start up some conversation with his new found friend.

"So, Tyral, what brings you to Riverfall? I have never known a Svefra who would choose a life on the land over a life on the waves. Though if it is adventure you are seeking, I can't say I don't understand. I left Zeltiva for that very reason. To experience and impact as much and as many as I can."

[Tyral Moondrinker]

As they walked through the city, Tyral watched Jack out of the corner of his eye, noticing that the man seemed to take in everything, his eyes searching out every detail around them and storing it away. It was a strange thing. Not many people paid so much attention to much but themselves. The point was made even clearer as a tall Akalak bumped into Tyral's shoulder, having been talking to his companion and not watching where he was going. The Akalak yelled something back in his people's tongue that didn't sound too friendly.

"So, Tyral, what brings you to Riverfall? I have never known a Svefra who would choose a life on the land over a life on the waves. Though if it is adventure you are seeking, I can't say I don't understand. I left Zeltiva for that very reason. To experience and impact as much and as many as I can."

Tyral laughed and thought about it for a moment, running a hand through his long brown hair, fingering a string of shells braided through it with a leather strap. It was a good question, but with a hard answer to face. He wasn't sure he wanted to get into it right now. He smiled at Jack.

“I still live on my boat, you know. It's tied up at the docks, so I'm never far away from the sea.” Tyral inhaled deeply and made a sound of pleasure and grinned wide. “See? Even now you can smell it and taste it if you know it well enough. So if this is a life on the land, it is a very gray place where the land and sea meet, you know? But yes, I understand,” he said, his face growing serious for a moment as he reflected on the past. “Just as you have left a place for a new place simply because it was new, I felt a yearning to see the people and the culture beyond my own.” He laughed loud and spread his arms around him in a wide sweeping gesture. “After all, Laviku is not just in the ocean. He is all around us. And I wish to know him more and understand him more, so I chose to follow him where he leads me. So he led me here. I do not know if I will ever go further inland than this, or if I even could.” At that, he pulled his shirt up to display his Mark, a set of waves crashing around his hip and ribs. They were deep blue and little bits of foam splashed off of the tips as they crashed together, looking very real.

Tyral looked up and saw the familiar sight of the Sasaran in front of them. He had done just what the Akalak had done: he had gotten too absorbed in his own words to pay attention to what was happening around him. The sounds of bodies hitting the floor, the dull, echoing thunk of wood hitting wood welcomed them in as they climbed the steps. The smell of blood and sweat met them at the door, the heat and humidity inside far higher than outside.

“It seems we have arrived, Jack. Enough talk for now. There is time enough for talk later,” Tyral grinned, walking towards a nearby pile of wooden weapons.

[Jack Benefort]

Jack had enjoyed the brief conversation immensely. They were certainly like minded men, just as enamored by the smell of the sea. Jack couldn't help but envy him a little bit. Living life on the sea, adventuring and meeting all sorts of folks. And what he said about Laviku stirred something in him. "After all, Laviku is not just in the ocean. He is all around us." Was that true? Jack had never been one to live a lifestyle of worship, as is the effect of being raised to learn reason and trust it above all else. But it was not as though the existence of the divine was a deniable fact. So what was it that stopped him from exploring such things? And truly, was his own affinity for Laviku a sign in itself? 'I will have to devote time to thinking about these things. Or perhaps to... Praying.' Jack could not recall a time in his life that he had ever done such a thing on his own. There were of course festivals and such where praise would be offered to a deity, but it was not a personal discipline.

In any case, it seemed they had arrived at the Sasaran, and Jack was in agreement with Tyral- talk could wait. Now it was finally time to get a little practice in. He could tell by Tyral's fitness, and the comfort he seemed to have about engaging Jack in a spar that he was not new to swordsmanship. But how good was he? Jack had trained for years but was by no stretch of the imagination to be considered a professional. But of course, that was part of the point of this. You can't become a master by never practicing.

"Very right friend. Let's get to it then."

Jack removed his sword from his belt and sat it to the side. Then, digging through the racks of wooden weapons, Jack was able to quickly pick one out that matched his own sword almost to the tee, aside from it being wood of course. He slashed at the air a few times to get something of a feel for the weapon and then stepped away from the rack to face Tyral, wielding the weapon he had chosen. Jack determined that it would be wise to let Tyral make the first move, since he couldn't be certain just how strong or skilled he was. In preparation for that, Jack took a defensive, yet somewhat flexible stance. He dug his heels into the floor as best he could to brace for a blow, but was gently shifting his weight back and forth in case Tyral unleashed something that needed dodging. He gripped the handle of the wooden short sword tightly with both hands and held it close, the blade forming a diagonal line across his abdomen, leaned slightly out into the air, though not very much so, in order to allow for a quick counterattack if necessary. At that, Jack simply watched and waited for Tyral to act, and the battle to begin.

[Tyral Moondrinker]

The Svefra hefted a wooden cutlass and swung it a few times, testing its weight. Satisfied, he removed his own cutlass and scabbard, placing it against the wall. It wouldn't do to have it getting in the way. Raising his arms high above him he stretched, loosening his muscles and joints. He jumped up and down a couple times before turning to face Jack. Tyral eyed the man, noticing his initial defensive posture. So he is nervous... He doesn't know how good with a blade I am so he has decided to wait and see. Interesting.

Tyral smiled wide and bounced from foot to foot, his long brown hair bouncing in its ponytail, shells and beads jangling from his neck and wrists. He gripped the cutlass tight in his right hand and held it loose at his side as he calmed down, his weight on the balls of his feet. Tyral had always believed that attacking was the best way to learn an opponent's weaknesses. He had been known for a relentless style of attack which, even if unpolished, forced his enemy to backpedal and try to survive the fight, rather than attacking themselves. Of course, that only worked with people around his skill level or lower, and he made mistakes.

Deciding he had waited long enough, Tyral dashed in at a fifteen degree angle to Jack's right shoulder, bringing his cutlass over his head in a downward slash towards the man's head. He followed up by reaching out with left hand to grab Jack's shoulder, his intent to pull him downwards as he brought his knee upwards towards his abdomen. Already, Tyral's adrenaline was rushing.

oocFeel free to disregard my second attack if you counter the first. I try to leave some options open for you to choose to counter/get hit and respond etc.

[Jack Benefort]

As Tyral rushed at him, Jack tried his best to prepare a counterattack. It took him a moment longer than it would have a year ago- it had been some time since Jack had been in a match with someone who was at all competent, the closest thing to practice this last year being minor infractions with drunks and thieves. Tyral was about to bring his wooden cutlass down around Jack's right shoulder or his head, but Jack also noticed his left hand seemed to have some purpose too, though it was not on the blade, but he could not be certain of what to expect from it. As Tyral drew within attacking range and began to bring the weapon down, Jack shifted his weight onto his left foot and pivoted on it, moving a small distance, maybe one foot at most, but giving him enough space to narrowly dodge the weapon. However, he had forgotten about the moment that he noticed Tyral's hand, and found that he was unexpectedly gripped on the shoulder, and was pulled slightly down as Tyral's knee found a place on the side of Jack's abdomen. An 'oof!' escaped from Jack as he absorbed the blow. It knocked some of the breath from him but it was not something he had never experienced before, and so was able to handle it relatively well.

Then, breaking away from Tyral, Jack backpedaled two steps, putting a few feet between him and his opponent. 'That was good... It's been a very long time since I've gotten any practice at all and I am fortunate enough for it to be against someone who actually knows what he's doing.' He thought to himself, relishing the moment, even the pain from the blow he received. 'Hmm. It seems he prefers to go all out on offense when fighting, or at least he wants me to think he does. Let's see how well his style lends itself to defense.'

Jack then quickly pushed back towards Tyral. Releasing his left hand from the handle of his weapon, Jack balled his hand into a fist and drew it back, his elbow now pointing straight out behind him, while his right hand held the sword now above his left shoulder, ready to do a diagonal slash at Tyral, and follow up with a potent punch to the gut if he was blocked.