Closed A promise is a promise [Archailist]

[Clemens Kos]

The 20th of Winter The most odd thoughts appear when one is trying their best to focus. At least in Kos' place it was so. Worried about the simplest things in life, and finally getting some sleep after being kept awake for the whole day yesterday. The masked man was walking alongside the city road of Syliras from an early morning, waiting for the sun to get to the highest point of the day for his little meeting to begin. An interesting thing called a pycon was met a few days ago, and ignoring the happenings on that day, the two decided to meet up again for a spar in the fighter's pits. Yet he was slightly worried about the whole ordeal, because as it stood, the pycon squire was way stronger than Kos was, and watching him down a grown man with just a few movements got him thinking. Then again, the thought about simply walking off and ignoring their meeting was a thing he didn't even think about. He might of be a weak man, but he still has the little shred of dignity. Besides, if Kos really wanted to learn how to defend himself, he needed to be able to take a blow or two for the better future. Pain, after all, was simply a feeling that made him feel alive. Made him feel better, and served as motivation to return the favor. Finding the time was right, he made a sharp turn and began to walk towards the pits, dressed in his usual attire. The black coat covering most of his body, with his left arm bulging out a lot more than his right arm, due to the metalic rembrace and vambrace he wore, attached to his studded leather vest. A mask covering his face, and his hair which was moved over the left side of his face as long, messy courtains. The right side of his head was shaved clean, just as before. All in all, he didn't change a whole lot, if at all, if one was to ignore the fact his clothes appeared to be cleaner and recently washed. With his halberd strapped on his shoulder, and both hands digging into his pockets, he walked towards the infamous pits, where he heard stories about people getting broken arms, legs, and hopes. Something inside of him felt like a hand grabbed his heart, and gave away a discomforting feeling, but as he shrugged it off he finally walked inside. Being midday, the pits had quite some visitors already, and Kos' one revealed green eye looked around at the pairs and trios of people swinging their weapons around in an attempt to spar with each other. However, that didn't really interest the masked man that much. What he wanted to find, was a pycon squire in the shake of a squirrel, who said that he will find Kos himself if he was going to be late to the pits today. He himself thought that to be a light hearted joke, but who knew how that race functioned. Besides, it was never a good idea to let a knight wait, even if he isn't a full fledged one. He was here to learn, and show what he can do so far. The man's head tipped from side to side, looking somewhat lower he would usually do, to find the person in question.

[Archailist]

My Words | Your Words | My Thoughts

Another five gold Miza's, another session with Hammer Fist. The elder Pycon once more struck out with the Py-Whip and when the wide arc of coiled leather reached its apex, a flick of her wrists sent a sliver of erratic shuddering across the entire length to finish with a crack sounding like plate-mail snapping clean into two pieces. Arch flinched, but Fist didn't even care; she just let the coils flop down to the ground before slowly dragging it back, wrapping it around one of her stubby little hands and pulling it close to the handle, back to its prepared state. "This ain't a sword. You don't just throw it around and hope for the best." Her gruff tone was particularly stony as she turned over to the squirrel-shaped Pycon. "You either know what you're doing or you don't do anything."

Arch didn't really have much of a clue. With the whip coiled up tight as possible in one hand, he threw it out and tried to flick his wrist to unwind the whip in the air, just as he'd seen Fist do. Unfortunately, the full length barely reached the half-way point of unraveling before it slumped back down onto the floor. "Shyke." Sullenly he begun tugging it back into the neat coils still gripped near the handle, though not before a firm hand grasped his wrist and shook it violently. He dropped the handle mid-twist and watched the coils unravel themselves. "Hey, what was that for?!"

"You don't coil tight enough. That's why it doesn't unravel fast enough." She held up her own and just by letting go of the strands, the tip snapped out like an arrow from a drawstring until the first loop had freed itself. The others were still held in place and she easily pulled it back into place; however she twisted the coil several times by itself as she wrapped it around her hand, meaning that he could hear the creaking of leather as she went. "Do it all again. Make sure it's tight. From now on, every time, you make sure that it's tight, no matter how long it takes." He picked the Py-Whip back up and begun recoiling it as she'd demonstrated, though it was an effort just to hold the handle after the first few coils. "If not, you lose."

Mid-winding, it wasn't hard to catch sight of Clemens. The man stood out like a serial murderer amongst knights. Why he chose to dress like that of all things was anyone's guess, though that didn't mean Arch had any wish to ask either. Quickly he finished looping the Py-Whip back into its tight coils before breaking free of Fist's glare. "Sorry, we'll continue a little later, alright? I guess it's time to put what you said to work." Fist didn't say anything, though her misshapen face glanced a few times between Clemens and Arch before she turned her back and returned to her spot - leaning against the edge of the Pits, weapons all prepared at her side.

"Clemens! Over here!" Looked like this was the moment of truth. He'd always wanted to try his luck against a halberd.

[Clemens Kos]

Kos realized that he still has a long way to go, as he saw the people around going at each other. Some were pure amateurs, barely being able to use the correct footwork or wield a weapon without hurting themselves doing so, but others really went at it with a combined emotion of passion and need. He watched two swordsmen going at it just like it was the last day they were alive, and simply watching the footwork and style dropped Kos on the cold ground of reality. His head tipped back slightly, taking in sight of his weapon flung over his shoulder. He wanted to be like those sparing, quick on his feet and filled with the need to become better. It's why he was here in the first place. He did, however, try and ignore the odd scream or pained curse that got in the air once every so often, when a swing didn't exactly connect with the other weapon, but the wielder. He was no stranger to blood and pain, but still it made him feel somewhat excited taking in the bits and pieces of pain around him. It was the sign that they were taking it seriously, and he planned of doing the same. Now all that was left to do was find the pycon and prepare for the fight. His hands inside his pockets squeezed into a fist in anticipation, and he would lie if he said he wasn't looking forward to it. It wasn't long at all, before Kos heard a familiar voice calling out his name. At least he hoped the 'Clemens' being yelled was aimed towards him, and not someone else sharing the same name. His one revealed eye quickly glanced to the direction it came from, and his right hand left his pockets, fingers loosening up, as he rose it up in the air, and offered a somewhat odd gesture of a half-wave and sign of having noticed the squire. He began to walk towards him, and with that done his hand was lowered to his sides lazily, letting it hang there. Once he was close enough to speak out, and not needing to use a really loud tone, words escaped his mask. "Looks like we found each other after all. Hey there." He spoke out, bending his back forward, and lowering himself on one knee, extending his hand towards the clay-made squire he got to know. In such a position, his weapon happily clanged against his left armored arm, hidden underneath the thick woolen coat. Kos was still wearing a mask, simply because he didn't like other people to bother about his own emotions, but he was still wearing a slight smile, kind of happy to see this squirrel once again. He really didn't want to call him a friend, because it was simply too soon, but the little fight they shared proved that he can trust him. And his gut feeling was usually right on that agenda. After the handshake, the man rose back to his feet, rolling his shoulder to get the strap of the halberd off himself, and setting the weapon on the ground infront of him. He began to unbutton his coat, setting it down on a not too dusty place, simply because he didn't want it to get ruined while fighting, and it was kind of obstucting his movements. He wanted to negate much if not all factors that could ruin his little spar, simply because he wanted to give his best to the little person infront of him. It seemed like Archailist previously was doing something, which left Kos in a state of not actually being warmed up. Once free of his coat, and revealing the studded leather vest he wore, acompanied by some simple linen black breechers and a thick belt keeping them in place. the belt itself was holding a scabbard for an assassin's dagger itself, which now loosely hung there on his side. The man began to warm himself up, starting with his hands and ending with a few jumps to get his blood running faster and muscles waking up from his day spent locked in his room. Getting hurt because of muscle cramps would simply be emberassing.

[Archailist]

My Words | Your Words | My Thoughts

He chuckled and took the hand with his own, much smaller paw for a quick shake before they broke again. "Glad you could make it." He really was. This would likely be one of the first times that the Pycon could actually remember putting his whip to good use.. now he just had to hope that Clemens wasn't as good with that halberd as he looked. Then again, with the mask and his general appearance.. Clemens could have picked up a fork and made someone shudder with the thought of what he'd do with it. Why the shyke does he have to wear that mask.. or only shave half his damn head.. jeez. Thankfully nobody so far had managed to accurately read expressions off a squirrel's face, so he should be fine.

"Hope you're ready for some serious fun.. I hope you don't mind if I try out a new weapon for this." The time the human spent stretching and preparing himself, the Pycon spent gripping tightly around the coils of leather as he slowly wound it around one fist over and over.. twisting it several times just as Fist had shown him too. Shyke knew how he'd be able to do this in an actual fight.. after all, he couldn't just flick it over and over again and expect the whip to do something. He'd have to recoil it each time, wind it up and prepare it.. before finally throwing it out.

He felt a little bad for trying out something new.. after all, if it turned out that Clemens was pretty good with that halberd, the fight was going to end up pretty one-sided. On the other hand, the squirrel had other things to fall back on. If the human had anything else.. Arch could be pretty sure that he would have pulled it out during that near-death experience back in the Bronze Woods. "Oh.. but, just to let you know." He felt that he owed at least this much to him. "I'm not being condescending.. at least, I'm not trying to be and I hope I'm not. I'm using a different weapon to make things more balanced between us. Make a good fight."

The smile he gave, even on the muzzle of a squirrel-like little lump of clay, was human and sincere. Clemens, for all his oddities, seemed like a good guy and the squirrel wanted to have a good time and a nice fight. He could only hope that by using a whip instead of his bare fists, they could get one. Otherwise.. well, he'd just have to find a way to teach the human to be better. If Hammer Fist could teach Arch how to whip people, then surely Arch could teach Clemens how to swing a weapon too. "Just, you know, tell me when you're ready. There's a spot over at the side for us."

He gestured with his free paw and indeed, off to the side and further into the Pits, stood a narrow gap between some other fighters with little or no armour at all to their name, battling out with spears and swords and axes. He wasn't sure whether it'd really be large enough to swing the entire halberd around.. then again, it was a miracle most of the spears and other huge weapons didn't end up smacking into someone else mid-battle with all the stuff going on here or there in the pits.

[Clemens Kos]

Kos listened to his new sparing partner explaining to him how the weapon he was using wasn't actually his main one. It was then when Kos finally realized just what the pycon was holding in his hands. A whip. An odd weapon, and something Kos didn't really know how to respond to. It brought out foul memories of the past, and he spend a good moment just blandly staring into the leathery object. Where he was somewhat happy the person was using a handicap, which meant the two could have a fair fight, the weapon of choise sent the hair on his back up. He tried to shrug it off, but for some reason the feeling was worse than the one he had as he stepped in the pits. Good thing his expressions were hidden underneath the leather, and he was able to have his miniature panic attack in peace without the risk of anyone noticing. He took a deep breath, trying to get control over himself. Archailist wasn't like them. Not one bit. He shouldn't simply go and judge an inanimate object due to his personal experience. He knew that much. But somewhere in the depths of his head, a child was wriggling in pain. The child Kos threw aside when he took on this apperance. He promised to himself to get better, and not even fear would step infront of it. So Kos simply bended down, picking up his halberd. "Not a problem. A good fight is all I'm asking for. First one to yield loses." Finally some words escape him, as he nodded at the question of being ready. He was as prepared as he could be at this time, so he slowly began to walk towards the area the squirrel pointed out. Assuming a stance, he let his body shift and turn, revealing his left arm towards his oponnent. His left foot infront of his right, creating a triangle with his two leather boots, and building up a foundation on that. The stance was quite firm and balanced, which he thought was perfect for something he didn't really know how to fight against. The halberd was held much like a spear was, with both of his hands wrapping around the shaft, and the spear-end being pointed towards the pycon infront of him. The axe-head was currently pointed to the ground, as Kos found a balancing point with his weapon, which made it much easier to hold on to such a weapon for a longer period of time. He was ready, and with that nodded to give his sign to the squire. Waiting for Archialist to also get in position, before they officially start out their duel. A deep breath was taken, fingers coiling around the wooden shaft in deep focus. Kos knew the basics on how the whip was used. Recoiling it back, before lashing it out. It hitting flesh left behind a burning sensation and a red mark, and it hitting clothing hurt just as much, with the mark being slightly lesser. He could play that to his advantage, if he used his left arm as a shield. He wore his metal rembrace and vambrace, now revealed due to him taking off his coat. A whip hitting that much wouldn't really hurt, only release a nasty sound when it clashed. Thus, all he really needed to care for is the leather lashing out in his face, specially his eyes. That was a dangerous spot to hit, simply because he wore aboslutely nothing there. His stance was partially moved, as he began to move to the side, drawing a circle around the pycon, but not quite a full one. Even before the halfway, the man acted. His right foot sprung his whole body to motion as he lashed out himself, entering a short sprint to close the little uneccesary distance they shared to get his halberd into range. If not else, he thought his weapon still had a bigger range than a whip. Specially a whip made for a pycon. His little movement causing him to gain momentum, which he moved from his foot to his arms, as he sent his weapon into a horizontal cleave towards the ground where Archialist was, while leaving his left arm exposed to hopefully catch a blow.

[Archailist]

My Words | Your Words | My Thoughts

The Pycon nodded in agreement. "A good fight is what you will have, I promise you that," he agreed on his way to the spot directly opposite Kos. Unlike the masked man, though, Arch really didn't have much of a clue what 'stance' he should take when handling a whip. It certainly wasn't the same as when he held a Py-Pole.. but he tried it any way, with his side facing the man and the whip out to his side. "Whenever you're ready, just go for it, man." He had to admit, he was pretty nervous; using a whip like this in a fight was pretty new. If he messed up early then there was no telling if he'd ever be able to crawl back what he lost.

On the other hand, he really wanted to see what Kos had in him.. not to mention what the halberd could do. The stance he took was oddly similar to that used by Iros, though that was with a spear. The grip was also different.. though the weight distribution must have been really skewered thanks to the axe-head at the tip, along with the spear-point. Apart from that though, they were remarkably similar.. which almost made Arch a little sad. He wanted to see something new, something bold that he'd never gone against before! Going up against a spear with a few extra bits sticking out was just going to end the same way that every other fight did. A few stabs, several misses and a few pieces of dented armour later...

Only, the Pycon soon found himself surprised when something new came out - swing winding around and across the ground, axe-first. "Well, shyke." That was definitely something new.. though given the small sprint to close the distance, not to mention the long and winding swipe that came out from the side, the Pycon found it pretty easy to hop over the blade while it slipped by underneath. Now he had a window of opportunity while the blade was still swinging, as he landed back down on the ground and reeled back the handle. All in the wrist. Flick of the wrist.

The whip uncoiled in his paws and flung out in a mass of wiry leather. Truth be told, he wasn't intending on using the whip as humans did - to flick and snap against bare flesh or cloth. In fact, though he couldn't really aim for any particular part of Kos' body and just threw the entire length at him in the hopes of clinging to something, he would be glad if it hit somewhere armoured. It did - on the exposed left arm. The coils pressed against it, but the tip was still unraveling - around and around it wrapped over Kos' arm, tightening in a vice-like grip under the locks of leather before snapping down as the squirrel gave a mighty tug back with all his twenty-three pounds of weight.

Now came the real problem. This was the first time Arch had successfully used a whip on someone. He'd tightened his grip around the man's limb with that tug.. essentially ensuring that he wasn't going to be breaking free. If Arch wanted to actually release the arm.. perhaps target a different part of the body, like the legs, which would work much better in throwing Kos off balance.. how was he supposed to remove the whip again?

[Clemens Kos]

With his somewhat telegraphed swing, he wasn't all too surprised that the agile little squirrel managed to hop over the broad size of his axe-head, avoiding a blow and gaining a few moments of free reign which Kos needed to step back into his stance. Be it as it is, the squire's retort came to quite a surprise. His body was already tensing up for the impact of the leathery weapon, which for some reason never came. He didn't know if he should be glad, or somewhat let down due to that fact. He was not given a lot of time to think about it, however, as the weapon was lashed out, and due to his outstretched left arm, the weapon managed to coil around his arm, hooking against his metal arm. He didn't exactly feel how tight it was, but he felt the odd sensation of being restricted instead, causing his movements to become somewhat clunky and slower, due to the extra weight that was pulling him down. Even though, he didn't really think this was all too bad for him. Until he is on the ground without being able to move, he'd force himself to work with this movement impairment and continue to fight. After all, giving up afer one measely move would be insulting to the squire which also fought with him. The man pushed the side of his elbow against his body, trapping the tip of the whip against his body and the metal guarding his arm. Fighting without a left limb was not the worst that could happen to him, after all. He still had the legs, and his striking arm to offer resistance. Quickly, before the pycon made any other moves, Kos' left foot was lifted up, slamming down against the leather whip which was connecting his own arm and the pycon's hands, trying to somewhat disorient the other fighter. His hands, due to completing the swing before were still outstretched, so his left arm would be pulled back, and into the direction of the squirrel that was holding the whip. His right hand loosened up the grip, and rotating his weapon, making the axe-head point inwards, and bringing the sharp edgy point back for another swing aimed for the squire that was hopefully still holding onto his leathery weapon. The swing wasn't as powerful as the first one, but it still held some power behind it due to the weight of his weapon. With the quick movements he did, however, and the rapid change of positions his hair flailed up, revealing the missing ear that his hair was hidding on the left side of his face. His somewhat messy black hair was pushed to the side fully, causing Clemens to see the battlefield with both eyes clearly for a moment, or two. Both of his green optics were focused on the fight infront of him. He didn't care what was happening around him, nor did he care what was above or bellow. He granted Archailist his full and undivided attention, which was everything he could offer as a sign of respect to the too-be-knight. Even if his other hit missed, the man shifted into a more defensive stance, now holding his weapon infront of him, with the length pararel with his body, and the edged end on his left side, spear-end pointed at the squirrel. If one was keeping track on the fight, his breathing was quick and somewhat jagged, breathing the cold midday winter air through his mouth, only to push it out through his nostrills.

[Archailist]

My Words | Your Words | My Thoughts

No time at all before Kos had the advantage and the Pycon was forced to retreat. The whip was a bit of a long-shot in the first place.. not to say that if he had the chance to take it up again, he would. That time just wouldn't be now. Instead, when a heavy foot stomped down on the length of whip, slightly too close for comfort to the handle, he took a shot in the dark and let go. Of course the handle snapped back towards the arm, leaving it dangling there uselessly down one side of his chest and the squirrel essentially without a weapon to his cause. It didn't mean he was hopeless.. he just had to take this from a new angle. After all, if he rushed in now and just tried to bite off one of those ankles, he'd just be running himself into the dirt.

Instead, he backed off a few steps when the next swing came, hopefully pushing a bit more distance. The length of the halberd. Too long, like the spears. Swords were comparatively short and thick; when he took a few steps back and tried to get a bit more range, he could be sure that they wouldn't be able to follow without stepping forwards too. Not now, though. He knew at least a little about spears after fighting with them in the Training Grounds with Ser Iros. Changing grips depending on how far or close you wanted to be.

It was a luxury that Arch had just lost. All he had now were his fists.. and you didn't get much closer combat than that. It made him more cautious as he slowly circled around Kos, watching him take up the more defensive position while the Pycon cycled through his options. Attack. Defend. One of them was going to go through it sooner or later, the only question was who would be quicker on the draw. For a few ticks, the only thing that he could hear was the sound of his own breathing through wide clay nostrils. Not even the clangs of metal all around them could wash that out.

Then an idea hit him and he struck. There was still plenty of distance between them and the squirrel, fast and nimble though he might be, still had small arms and small legs, not to mention a shyke-tonne of clay to carry around. Gods how he wished that he could move faster, yet it still took him some ticks to slide down where he wanted to be.. between Kos' ankles. He wasn't going in for a punch, didn't reel anything back, just stood there and waited. Testing the defenses. Testing the reflexes. Pushing at him to do something, make an attack, back off, anything. Just like all the other times he'd gone in for a spar, it'd turned into a game.

Then again, everything was. Life, death, all of it. The only difference was that not everyone was a winner and not everyone was a loser.

[Clemens Kos]

Kos felt the strength of the leather weapon fading, as the pressure seemed to be released. His little attempt at getting the high ground caused his sparing partner to be disarmed. With that, Kos was once more able to straighten his back, and simply waggle his right arm about, getting to untangle the whip that was on him. Once free of the weapon at hand, all he did was kick it away, and out of the fight. His eyes never leaving the squire, however, as it seemed the little clay-man was not planning on giving up just yet. The only true choise. Even without a weapon in hands there are things, and actions one can follow through. Be it as it is, Kos decided to not underastimate the disarmed squirrel, knowing from their previous encounter just how dangerous he can actually be. His leg shifted forward into a more aggresive stance, brandishing the axe-blade against the little sunlight there was on that day. What he needed was an openning. A simple swing wouldn't really work, because the pycon was fast enough to dodge a well telegraphed swing. So what he needed to do was make him commit on a swing that wasn't going to happen. His brow furrowed at the difficult task at hand, despreratly trying to find a next move. But it seemed like the squire wasn't having it. After a few circles around him he made his move. It seemed like he ran between's Kos ankles, yet nothing really came afterwords. Kos' whole body arched as he followed him, making sure never to lag behind too much. As soon as he saw the squirrel advance, the man tip-toed to the side, backing off. The first rule of his weapon was to have distance between him and the fighter. The wooden shaft was longer than a sword handle, and thus being too close, one couldn't be able to have a decent swing. If the person was beneath him, there really couldn't be much to actually do. A kick in the shins could make all of his hard work to stay in the fight kind of useless. So he tried to avoid that. Then again, the masked man was somewhat surprised that Archi never made a move. There has to be a reason for it, but he just wasn't able to see it. Kos knew there was something on his head, and he should be extra careful from now on. A fighter such as him wouldn't make such a bold move without a plan behind it. Which brought Kos to an idea. The grip around his halberd tightened, as he brought it back to wind up for a swing. He felt the weight of his halberd beginning to push down due to gravity, and he followed through in a broad swing, but never completting it. What he did, was fake a swing, and mid-way through his action bulge up every bit of his muscles to bring the weapon to a halt, and thrust against the location the pycon would be moving towards to. The motion was straining, but he knew that normal attacks just wouldn't work in this fight. If not else, he was here to try out something new. If the stab connected or not, didn't really mean much. Due to the energy Kos used on it, he was quite out of breath, and he needed a moment to relax. His guard down, and his spear still outstretched he would be an easy target. But he couldn't really do much against it. Sweat was already beginning to drop down from his forhead, but he was having fun. There was something about this fight that just felt special.

[Archailist]

My Words | Your Words | My Thoughts

Well, so much for practicing with a new weapon. He'd barely managed one swing with it; now all he could do was watch it sail through the air and unravel itself on the ground several feet away. He'd have to turn his back on Clemens to get it back.. not to mention waste a lot of time and energy for something that was, for lack of a better description, utterly useless anyway. He'd be better off using his fists.. then again, he knew that at the beginning. If he just used his fists every time it came to violence, he'd end up next to useless when it came to an actual armoured opponent. He needed to get the whip back, one way or another. That before everything else.. even if it meant dragging Kos half-way across the pits. As it turned out, he had a pretty good idea of how to do just that.

His little fake moves opened up a perfect route. He keeps backing up. Trying to protect his legs. If I angle myself, I can advance and slowly push him back towards the whip. If he did it right.. and that was a big if, too.. hopefully Kos wouldn't even notice what was happening until it was too late. He'd have to line himself up just right though, make sure to keep up the offensive. His eyes were working so fast, from his attacker back to the fallen whip, he nearly missed the slow winding of a slash that likely could have cleaved the little Pycon in two. Quickly he ducked down and folded himself in against his own stomach, almost molding his own face into his midsection with the speed, before rolling forwards and tucking his legs into a front roll.

He'd hoped to duck right under the swing, but instead it halted just short of catching him and instead drew back for a strike right down into the middle of his clay body. A dangerous move, if any.. one that the squirrel likely wouldn't have escaped if he was any slower. Quickly his legs unfolded from their place at his chest, pressing flat against the ground and halting his body mid-roll. Then they pulled back up and tucked against his chest, pulling him into a backwards roll just as the blade slammed into the spot where he would have been. That could have been messy. It wasn't though. That was enough reason to put it behind him and move along.. dwelling too much on death was going to get him killed.

Besides, he was never going to be as close to the halberd's head as he was now. A reasonable opportunity.. though it wasn't in line with his plan, he'd just have to wing it and hope for the best. After the roll back, his legs untucked for the final time and he rolled back straight onto his feet. A little twitch from his tail helped keep his balance as he rose up, reached out with both paws and grappled the bottom of the halberd's blade - which would have normally been the top, if the halberd wasn't inverted - to pull himself up. Twenty-three pounds of clay fixed firmly to the very edge of the weapon should at least weigh it down a little.. if not, hopefully the squirrel could use the post to get onto Kos.. whether it be on the torso, or more hopefully, straight on the head.