Closed Old Blood, Bad Blood

[Magpie]

Timestamp: 10th of Summer, 513AV Location: Kendoka Sasaran Mizra stretched absently as he looked over the scant few students in the Sasaran that day. Young Akalaks and a single pair of human men, various weapons scattered throughout. There weren't many that day, and not all of the spars needed direct supervision, save a couple needed minor corrections in stance and etiquette at the beginning. Now that they were all well into their fights, Mizra found himself bored with only needing to keep an eye out. Pushing his muscled arms above his head, he tilted to the side to keep from hitting the ceiling cross bars. Being extraordinarily tall, even among Akalaks, had its occasional disadvantages. Not to say it was all bad, and he kept a grin to himself as he lowered his arms. A pair of Konti that had come in the day before, looking for competency in their Suvai for citizenship, and their low cut tunics had been a welcome sight in the day’s monotony. He heard the steps outside before the door moved and was already walking over by the time it opened. A young man was there, human by the looks of him, thin with dark, sun-tinted skin. “Welcome, friend,” Mizra’s large voice seemed to fill the doorway as he crossed his arms over his chest. “Looking for some weapons practice?”

[Zakar]

It had only been five days in this strange new city when Zakar realized that he needed to learn how to do battle. There were many practical reasons for this. He was heading to Syka, deep in the jungles of Falyndar where plenty of danger awaited. It was nothing like crossing the desert of Eyktol, where surviving entailed conservation of energy and water, not flailing a metal blade around with the intention of skewering someone. However, in Falyndar, Zakar had a gut feeling that he would have plenty of need for that kind of thing.

Then, there was the fact that he was staying in Riverfall. Riverfall, a city of enormous, hulking warriors. He had heard of the Akalaks and their fighting prowess before coming here, but seeing it in person, no matter where he looked, was a different matter entirely. The last time he had felt this intimidated by an entire race was with the Eypharians in Ahnatep, and they were actually out to do him in.

So, Zakar figured, he had about 40 days to learn how to do something more than wave a sword around in hopes of it magically landing where he wanted it to, before he himself could be given an extra breathing hole. This thought gave him a truly sour feeling, for there was a reason he had never gotten to learn weaponry beforehand. He didn't want to learn how to kill people.

U pon entering the Sarasan, he was immediately greeted by, well, possibly the biggest thing he had ever seen. As soon as he thought he could not encounter a bigger Akalak, he found himself in front of the Sasquatch among Sasquatches. "Hello," Zakar started nervously, craning his neck to look at Mizra, "Yes, I am looking for weapons practice." he had barely finished his sentence as Mizra starting to lead him to the weapons rack.

"Um, I have no weapons experience," he said, not quite sure how else to put it. It as an embarrassing thing to tell an Akalak, one such as Mizra no less. But, he felt like it was a necessity at this time, not wanting to be paired up with a skilled warrior and getting himself beat to a pulp. Mizra didn't seem to care about this information, and asked Zakar what kind of weapon he wanted to learn, pointing at the weapons racks. They were all made of wood, but in different shapes and sizes. Zakar was at a complete loss. "What would you... suggest?" He asked, pretty sure that he had just made himself look even more like a fool than before with his indecision.

[Rosela]

OOC :

You don't need to read it (in fact I encourage you not to, it's quite long) but the dream influencing Rosela in this thread is here. She and Razkar meet in the Dreamscapes and he forces her to confront the darkness behind the pretty mask she wears.

Rosela went through her morning stretches with an absent mind. Her mornings were getting better since the turn of the season, but she’d had trouble falling asleep nearly every night since the nightmare. Though the dream had seemed so much more real than a simple nightmare, it was the only explanation she’d had for it. A horrific experience…but a nightmare only. Still, the worry that it would reoccur had her tossing and turning well after she’d taken her makeup off and buried her face in the pillow.

Sighing deeply, she dropped her arms and snatched up her cover-up brush. The difficult nights were running havoc on her lovely skin, and as she swirled the brush in the cover-up powder, she could only stare critically in the mirror at the bags under her eyes. She’d intended to take the day for herself, to take her mind off of the more unpleasant things, but the thought of shopping seemed so…mundane. Petty. A waste of her clearly precious time. A few dabs of the cover-up, a splash of foundation, some blush and some eye shadow… She straightened and snapped the makeup kit shut, two other hands straightening the gold-colored cincher at her waist. There we go; no one would guess the horrible things…

Two arms crossed over her chest as she turned abruptly away and slowly moved to the table. Her stiletto laid there, brought home from the shop after the knowledge of it so close while she worked began to bother her. Not that she was afraid, no. A finger reached out to trace along the bone handle. A small shoot of exhilaration ran through her spine. It was here for her, just in case she wanted – no, needed – to use it. For something. On someone.

The excitement tipped over the cliff’s edge into anxiety, where the thought of doing it collided once again with the bloody reality of actually doing it.

”Not going to the shop today?” The shadow under the table inquired softly, startling Rosela from her thoughts. The shadows of her home always seemed more calm and omniscient than those of her shop, and she had wondered more than once if the creatures could see into the shadows of her mind.

”I-no. It’s my day off.”

”Something else productive.” It wasn’t a question.

Rosela’s fingers wrapped slowly around the blade’s handle. After the day she bought it, she’d never really handled it. The day she bought it…and the dream. ”Yes. Something different today.”

The walk to the Kendoka Sasaran was quick and she tried to think of an innocent sounding story as to why she was there. Self defense? In Riverfall, unlikely. Competency exam? He’d notice her Kuvan tattoo. Well, it wasn’t like she could admit that she’d had a dream where she cut down a slave and wanted to know what it felt like in real life. What would her customers think?

She saw a swish of blue enter before she got there, and trotted quickly to open the door behind them. Once inside, her eyes fell immediately upon a massive Akalak, a smile twitching at her lips. He was wonderfully bulky, and just her type.

“Ah, another visitor! Welcome! Pick your weapon, and maybe you two can spar-”

The ghost of her smile died instantly when she got a good look at the man who’d entered before her. Shock vaguely veiled the disgust on her face, when she realized of all creatures she had to share the room with, it had to be a dirty Benshira.

[Magpie]

Mizra hummed thoughtfully, hand on his chin as he surveyed the rack of wooden weapons. “No experience, eh? Maybe something like the short sword, that’s pretty easy to pick up. Spears and staves are pretty straight forward in the beginning, but they take a little time to master. Swords and axes are the most common around here, in my opinion, and the sword’s usually the first choice for up-close combat. If you’ve got the upper body strength for it,” he punctuated this with a jovial nudge to Zakar’s shoulder. “We can even go a little longer with a bastard sword. What do you say?” The door slid open again, and Mizra half turned to greet them. “Ah, another visitor! Welcome! Pick your weapon, and maybe you two can spar-” Once he got a look at the woman stepping through the door, he turned fully, and clapped Zakar on the back. “You don’t mind helping the young lady train, do you, boy? Lucky devil…” Mizra beamed down at the attractive young woman, discreetly flexing. He’d seen a few of the many-armed folk come through in his days at the Sasaran, and regretted that she had come immediately after another man who would also need a sparring partner. Completely missing Rosela’s shock, he put his other hand on the small of Rosela’s back and steered her over to the weapons as well. “What’ll it be today? Long sword? Short Sword? Staff? This fellow was just picking out his weapon. I’d recommend maybe a pair of daggers for you, miss,” he said mock-secretively. “All those extra hands puts you at quite the advantage.”

[Rosela]

OOC :

Sorry for the awkward change in opponents; I really, really wanted to see this fight happen and Zakar has disappeared.

Taking a breath, Rosela forced herself not to focus on the Benshira. Perhaps Akajia knew her secret dream, and was testing her? The savage Razkar was gone from Riverfall, and good riddance, but was her hand being tested with a different kind of savage? The dirty, desert crawling kind?

Pushing her hate out of her face in favor of superior indifference, Rosela gave the Benshira a level stare as she reached over for a dagger, unfortunately wooden.

"Just one dagger then?" Mizra seemed surprised. "Here, take another. All those hands, may as well make use of them!" He laughed jovially, and slapped the Benshira on the back as though sharing in a joke. The Benshira didn't laugh, only glared.

"I...I don't want to fight you." The Benshira's words were low, and despite their meaning, there was no pity in his eyes.

"I will." The three turned to see a dark man standing in the doorway, dark of skin and wearing loose clothing. Another Benshira - was the city intentionally attracting savages these days? The first man bowed out, leaving the building awkwardly. He and the second man shared a look as he passed.

Though she had initially balked at spending a single moment in the presence of one of the dirty creatures, the hate for her seemed to radiate off of him. Rosela felt the anger in her gut rise in response, along with a burning need to show him exactly who he was messing with.

Before Mizra could speak, Rosela cut across him with an almost exaggeratedly friendly laugh. "Wonderful, it'll be so much fun! See-" She slipped up uncomfortably close, her face inches from his. He jerked back in surprise, but the shock turned murderous when he felt the jab in his side. Her lips spread into a grin as Rosela dug the blunt wooden dagger under his ribs. "Gotcha already." She licked her lips once as she pulled the dagger away, and felt a purr of satisfaction in her chest when his eyes darted uncomfortably to her mouth.

Having clearly missed the subtext of the interaction, Mizra laughed again and put his hand on Rosela's shoulder, pulling her back slightly. "Easy now you two, lets get onto the mat." Taking the second wooden dagger from his outstretched hand, Rosela smirked at the Benshira and sashayed onto the open mat near the door. He snatched up a shortsword and looked ready to throw it at her, but the presence of Mizra was comforting. He'd keep the dirty sand-sucker from getting too rough.

It took him a moment to accept the match and move to the opposite position her on the mat. Mizra moved to the side of the mat, equal distance from each of them. He turned to address Rosela first. "Now, if you don't have much experience with daggers, you're not going to be able to dual wield them very well, if at all. Don't concentrate on making them work together, just on using whichever one is most convenient for whatever position you're in." He turned then to the Benshira. "The sword's pretty straight forward, just focus on using the edges to slash instead of the point to stab." Holding his hands out to indicate them both, he continued. Kness bent, make sure to keep your footing, and no hitting below the belt." He raised his eyebrow at Rosela at this last part, seeming to advise it more as a joke. There was a moment of silence before he raised his hands abruptly. "Begin!"

[Rosela]

There was a moment of awkwardness as neither Rosela nor the Benshira made a move. As she watched him stare at her, her palms began to sweat against the worn handles of the daggers. One was in her right middle, her domainant hand, and the other was in her left middle, the one she usually used for secondary sewing. She shifted slightly, intending to slide one foot forward, but her opponent took the movement as a starters flag and jumped forward, bringing the sword down in a wild swing.

Making a small noise of panic, she jumped to the side, using the left dagger to bat the sword away awkwardly. It waved wildly in the Benshira's face, and he danced back to get away from it. Mizra had moved from his position to watch the movement from a different vantage.

"Daggers can be a bit tricky for blocking. You don't want that sword edge getting too close to your fingers. Dodge the blade and use your opponent's momentum to get close."

Rosela listened, but didn't take her eyes from the Benshira, who was once again standing on the other side of the mat, sword hovering between them warily. There was another pause as neither wanted to be the one to make the first move. Returning to her initial strategy, she slid one foot forward, bracing herself for the Benshira's trigger. He didn't jump towards her however, and she slid closer to him. Coiled springs wound tighter in her thighs and hips as she slid another foot closer, waiting for the moment he would react. His only reaction was to sink slightly lower in his stance, waiting for her to come to him. Despite this being what she wanted, it still irked her that he expected her to do the work of the attack.

Practically holding her breath, she slid closer, now well within striking range of his sword. She stayed fairly in front of him, meaning he'd either have to jab, or open himself up by swinging back first. Her weight shifted for another slid forward-

And he struck. Rosela saw him draw back slightly, her only warning before he jabbed the sword out at her like a striking snake. The springs in her thighs jumped and she jumped almost too far to the side, lifting the arms on her left side to let the sword pass harmlessly underneath. Her right dagger jumped forward, and glanced off his lower stomach. She heard him growl angrily, and suddenly there was a streak of hot pain along the back of her ribs. He'd slammed the edge of the sword along her back, the brunt of the force under her shoulder blade. Rosela yelped and attempted to jam her left dagger into his neck. The move was awkward though and ended up more of a useless slash along his collarbone. She was still moving however, and as she attempted to strike and move past, he brought his elbow up and down hard on her shoulder. Her cry of pain was louder this time and, all form forgotten, all six of her hands slapped and beat about his face.

"That one hurt!" She yelled before a strong hand pulled her back.

"An...interesting attack strategy..." Mizra seemed to be holding in a laugh as he settled her back on the other side of the mat. "You'll want to get in, strike, and get back out before your opponent has a chance to hit back. Especially if he's physically stronger." He turned to the Benshira, looking slightly impressed. "Keeping a close-range opponent from getting too close is key, so when she gets too close, dance away." He slapped his own up-raised elbow by way of indication. "Good job on using your body as a weapon when the sword wasn't available."

Rosela felt a rush of hot jealousy at the praise and resolved to bury the sand-sucker. She had more weapons and more hands to work with. She was not losing this.

[Rosela]

Half a bell later, Rosela and the Benshira were both sweating and sore, and though Mizra had apparently yet to grasp the depth of hatred between the pair, he found himself continually intervening to make sure they didn't seriously hurt one another. Rosela had multiple welts on her arms that she prayed wouldn't turn into bruises later, but she was happy to see the Benshira tilting to the side, using one arm to protect the right-side kidney and ribs she had nailed multiple times.

Other people in the room, almost entirely men, were paying attention to the pair, some stopping their own session to openly watch. It made Rosela painfully conscious of her appearance, of the popped lace holes in the back of her cincher - she knew there were at least three - and of her eyeliner, which she was terrified was running. It was time for the match to end, one way or another.

They stood once again at their corners of the mat, this time starting out with a slow circle the Benshira had taken to performing in an attempt to keep her at bay. She continued to circle closer however, and he always seemed to be at war with himself on whether to allow her to push him away, or let her circle in. Sidestepping, she moved to her right, keeping her weight low. It took falling ridiculously on her rear to take Mizra's point about footing to heart.

He kept the sword out between them, slightly to the side to allow a swing at any moment. It swiped towards her, forcing her back a step, but she knocked it angrily away with the flat of the right dagger. She kept the daggers up in front of her, the right held upright and the other held upside down, with the flat against her arm. It was at Mizra's suggestion, and she found it effective for striking when she was turned partially to the side. The other four arms up and palms out, ready to grab him the moment he was in range. She felt viper-like, and told herself to be patient.

He waited until she was mid-step, legs crossed, to attack. She almost expected it, feeling vulnerable whenever her feet weren't spread securely. The sword swung in from her left, and she refused to dance away this time. Bringing up the left dagger, she blocked the sword blow and angled her arm up so the blade caught on the crossbar. It skittered over the wooden nub however, and scraped agonizingly over the tops of her fingers. With a cry, she dropped the left dagger, but the two other left arms latched onto his sword arm his look of victory quickly vanished as she pulled in close, right hands clutching at his left sleeve to drag the inevitable punch off course. An attempt to stab his neck was foiled by her own arm, unable to angle her hand into the right angle, and the stab became a hard slash across the already welted skin of the side of his neck. His right arm didn't stop though, and she found herself enveloped by his arms, one hand wrapped in her hair.

Not for the first time that fight, tears sprang to her eyes, and she was once again reminded of the awful dream. Determined not to let this still her like it had then, she twisted around and threw her knee into the side of his. He started to buckle, but didn't release her hair. His arms tightened, and she realized too late that he was dragging her down with him. Her feet left the mat as he turned his body to throw her to the mat under him.

The impact knocked the breath from her body, and her mouth opened convulsively, but for one terrible moment, no air entered. A heartbeat later, she gasped and with the breath of air came the realization that she was pinned. All but two of her arms were trapped between them, and the remaining two were pulling helplessly at his now-ripped sleeve. His knee pushed between hers, and with one arm above her head to keep his grip in her hair and the other trapped with the sword behind her back, the position was painfully intimate. As if to verify her thoughts, she saw the savage, dominating lust flicker in the filthy sand-sucker's face. Her gut churned with disgust.

"In your place, bitch-" He hissed in Arumenic.

Rosela bared her teeth in fury and suddenly Mizra was in her peripheral, moving towards them with outstretched hands. Rosela ignored him however, and pushed her head back into the mat as far as it would go. "Know your place, sand-sucker!" A hint of his lust was still there as she slammed her forehead into his nose.

Blood spattered her face just as Mizra pulled the Benshira off, his curse of pain all the satisfaction she needed.

"Whoa, whoa, whoa!" Mizra was yelling, still somehow good-natured about it all. "Just a spar here, you two, no need to go for blood."

The Benshira, holding his bloody face even as he began to drip on his shirt, gave her a furious look as she sat up on the floor. They locked eyes and for a moment, Rosela saw the seething black eyes of Razkar. He hadn't bled though, Rosela had.

But not this time.

[Rosela]

The Benshira made a small movement and Rosela realized he was about to kick her. Before she could do more than curl her knees up in defense, Mizra had ahold of the Benshira's shoulder, squeezing hard enough to make the man wince and pull away. "Easy friend," Mizra intoned. "It was a rough shot, but no need to take it personally."

Rosela knew he took it personally, because she had meant it to be personal. He looked around at the now openly staring spectators, and sucked in a breath as if to say something. The sound was wet from the dripping blood, but instead of speaking, he clenched a fist and stormed out of the Sasaran, slamming the door behind him.

Mizra watched him leave with apparent relief before turning to help Rosela up off the floor. One man watching rushed forward to pull off the cotton sweat band at his wrist and offer it to her. The bloodlust was fading in her chest, but she knew her victory when she saw it. Her body might have more bruises the next morning, but she drew first blood. She smiled sheepishly at the man offering her the wrist band, and dabbed at her forehead where she could already feel the dirty Benshira blood drying.

"You okay there, miss?" Mizra was concerned, but seemingly still baffled by the abrupt ending to the spar. "That headbutt was a bit strong, but I can't say I haven't seen worse and the two still walk out as friends."

"I'm fine, thank you. I might say otherwise tomorrow though..."

It wasn't meant to be that funny, but the men laughed anyway.

"That Moonstone Massage works wonders if you're feeling sore?" One of the other men, a thinner, younger Akalak, offered hopefully.

"Thank you, I might just do that." The attention was warming her, a pleasant end to a painful battle. She looked down at the wrist band now stained with blood and bit her lip bashfully at the owner.

He seemed completely unperterbed by it and waved a hand. "Keep it, please. I have plenty."

"Thank you. Well, I guess I'd better be getting home..." She made a point to appear to pull herself together. She was just a nice young lady who defended herself when a spar got rough, nothing more.

The men offered a myriad of goodbyes and well wishes, and Rosela felt their eyes bore into her back as she left. They didn't see the shiver of excitement that ran over her spine as she remembered the Benshira's look of shock and pain, and the feeling of blood spattering on her face.

[Elysium]

Rosela

Experience
Weapon: Dagger +4
Brawling +3
Intimidation +2
Rhetoric +1
Observation +2

Lore
The Unsettling Nightmare
Riverfall: Kendoka Sasaran
Mizra, Instructor or Referee?
Dagger: Dodge, Don't Parry
Benshira, Dirty Sand-Suckers
Brawling: Go For the Nose!
Drawing First Blood

Notes
Goodness. I love the darkness here. Rosela has a great deal of contempt for her desert-dwelling cousins. Gee, I wonder why? Now I'm off to read that dreamscapes thread!