Closed Spring Tournament, Round 2

[Magpie]

Timestamp: 78th of Spring, 513AV Syna was high in the sky when the semi-final round was to begin. Each warrior had been pampered between rounds in the lower chambers of the Arena with a light meal, massage, invigorating potions, and any minor healing that was needed. Fatigue would be no excuse for a poor performance in their penultimate battle. As before, the chambers on either end of the Arena held wooden replicas of the combatants’ chosen weapons, new copies without the nicks and cracks acquired in their first round. The doors opened and the combatants moved once more to the center of the ring. The crowd shouted wildly, fighting with itself to scream their preferred fighter’s name. “Ri-ar-is!” “Van-a-tor!” Riaris’ Akalak brothers had the advantage of numbers, but there were more than a few paler faces cheering on the Drykas. Those not completely distracted by the cheering crowd may have noticed the Gilaman the Jaw Crusher was not at his usual place at Nevar’s side. In fact, the man seemed to be absent altogether. Seemingly unfazed by the absence of their guest of honor, Nevar stood once more at his judging table as the pair approached the center, and those that did not silence at his movement were quieted by his raised hands. “Combatants!” He lowered each hand to the men on either side of the center. “Riaris, son of Riverfall, and Vanator, son of the Drykas. Welcome to the semi-final round of this tournament of skill. Gilaman cannot be with us for this round,” he briefly indicated the empty seat to his right. “As I’m sure he’s taking much needed rest in preparation for his bout with the worthy victor here. With the eyes of Riverfall upon you and without further ado,” there was a collective intake of breath from the crowd, “Gentlemen, begin!” The bell rang once, and the round had begun. OOC Notes : Remember, 8 posts each and the round’s over. Good luck!

[Vanator]

Vanator stood behind the wooden door, the light of the sun streaming around the small gap in the threshold, the noise of the crowd seeming to ride the rays into the entrance tunnel. His muscles still held the warmth of the masseuse's ministrations, waiting loosely across the broad back and down the toned limbs of the veteran Drykas. He was both dismayed and intrigued by the course of events leading to this match. Riaris himself had urged the man to enter the tournament. Now, at the semi-final, Vanator would face his new friend in the arena. If Eachann Denusk could see his son now...well, the world that Eachann Denusk had known had changed.

Vanator focused his attentions now on the pending fight. He had beaten the uppity Lokan rather easily, the disciplined northerner's ritualized techniques no match for the battle-tested ax of the Drykas horseman. But Riaris was a different matter entirely. Vanator had witnessed the Akalak fight with the Lakan, and brawl in a bar, so knew something of how he fought. But the Riverian had seen him in action as well. Van's musings ceased abruptly when the arena door was flung open, sunlight streamed into the tunnel, and Vanator stepped into the arena.

Across the way, Riaris entered as well, the boom of deep Akalak cries drowning out the few foreign supporters of the human underdog. Vanator shrugged it off, expecting the Kuvay'Nas warrior to be the favorite of the citizens. Stopping at the weapons rack, the Drykas picked up the weighted wooden battle ax. The last round had given him the opportunity to embrace the subtle differences between his own ax and the wooden copy, and the Denusk hefted the weapon with practiced ease as he continued to stride towards the center of the arena, the towering Akalak approaching to meet him.

Riaris was a good foot taller and a hundred pounds heavier than the Drykas, with a farther reach and a better grasp of unarmed fighting, Vanator had learned. It would take focus and reliance on instinct and reaction to match his friend in combat. Even as he drew nearer, Vanator began to assess the Riverian, how reliably would the plane of his shoulders foretell his strikes, how true would his pale blue eyes betray intent. Vanator knew Riaris would not hold back just because they were friends, and neither would he.

Vanator's pace picked up as the Akalak neared, his boots digging into the dirt of the arena floor, propelling him forward, the Drykas last few steps almost a run. He wanted to get a lick in first and fast, hoping to gain any advantage he could. Lifting the battle ax across his body for a back hand strike, Van juked to the left and swung the wooden weapon at Riaris, allowing the momentum of the swing to turn him and bring him closer to the Riverian, where a fluid left jab was aimed at the man's floating rib. The intent was if, or more likely when, Riaris blocked or dodged the ax, he would open himself for the follow up punch.

[Riaris Dovukalis]

Riaris stood in the doorway, watching, ready to step out the moment that he heard his name called. The Huge Akalak stood tall, muscles ripping across amethyst-like flesh. His hair was damp, strains curling over his ears and down his neck. He didn't pace about as he had before, and instead lightly bounced from one foot to the other as he popped his neck. Riaris was more than ready, and so was Recoomas. Although Vanator had no way of knowing this, the darker brother of Riaris had wanted to fight him every since the first night he laid eyes on the Drykas. There was something about the man that spoke of experience and raw power, and to Recoomas that alone was a challenge.

Recoomas lived to fight, and did so whenever he had the chance. Vanator was another challenge, another to test his strength against in battle. For Riaris this was a test of strength and show of respect from one warrior to the other. It was common for Akalaks in the city to face off against each other in battle, and even sometimes the women did this as well. It was a part of their life style and in the end, there were no losers and only those weak at heart thought otherwise. In the first round of the tournament, Riaris had taken out a weak Akalak who shouldn't have been in the tournament to begin with. Now he looked to face one that was surely to be a real fight.

Once they called his name, and the Akalak could hear the roar of the crowd he made his way out onto the battle field. He took up the fresh wooden lakan and lightly flicked his wrist, before he gave a swift jab with it into the air, and then another jab followed by a long slash to cut into the air. Riaris turned back to look upon his friend with a smirk as they moved closer. He could hear the crowd and judging by the cries of joy, he could only guess that Vanator's match was as exciting as his own had been.

Riaris didn't know much about the Drykas unarmed style, but he had seen him in action with his ax and the man was well trained with it. Riaris continued to bounce, keeping his limbs loose and ready to strike. Once Vanator raced towards him, the Akalak did the same. A hop and skip to get himself going and Riaris was dashing towards his opponent quickly. The moves of the Drykas were fast and fluid, his swing with the ax being nothing short of poetry in motion.

The Akalak stopped and lifted his arms, but was unable to block or dodge the ax that smacked him across his chest where a bruise would likely form later. The quickness of the Drykas continued as he floated around, almost like a boxer and slammed his fist into Riaris' ribs. The Akalak grunted, his body twitching slightly from the jab. He righted himself then, lifting his arms back up for his attack. Riaris dashed forward, lifting his leg to jerk his boot towards Vanator's thigh and followed it up with a swift swing of his lakan towards the man's body. Once his boot stumped onto the ground again, he attempted a final strike by bringing his unarmed fist around for a punch towards the man's chin.

[Vanator]

The first clash of the warriors brought them charging together, uncoiled muscled forms riding their momentum with twists and turns as Van's wooden ax managed to find a mark as the Akalak and Drykas met. The punch to Riaris' side met solid flesh, like that of a bull zibri. But Vanator knew well not to take even a tick to revel in his first strikes, for his violet-skinned opponent spun around and lunged forward, the lakan poised to strike. Vanator understood Riaris was as talented with his fists as he was with the Akalak blade, trying to watch for the Riverian's powerful combinations as he raised his ax defensively.

What the Drykas did look for was the short kick, Riaris' fast strike to his thigh causing immediate pain, making his knee to buckle, his balance compromised. Striving to maintain his stance, Van's arm raised, and the wooden lakan raked across his bicep. For only a moment did the Denusk regain his balance, the axe flinching to raise again, when the Akalak's ham-like fist glance off of his jaw.

Van's head snapped to the side, and his vision flashed white for a moment. The momentum of the Akalak's powerful blow sent the Drykas reeling, staggering away as he tried to shake off the stunning effect. Amid the ringing in his ears, Vanator heard the cheer of the crowd. His sweaty, tawny mane danced around his head as he shook himself lucid, teeth clenched in a grimace as he turned on his opponent. In one motion, Van stepped forward, crouched low before Riaris holding the ax vertically in two hands. He raised up off strong legs, back, shoulders and arms working to drive the battle ax upward, aiming the flat top of the ax and haft at the Riverian's own chin.

[Riaris Dovukalis]

There was nothing he could do to stop the incoming blow, and even though he was able to lift his arms in a defensive manner, the ax slammed into his chin. The Akalak's head rocked, turning upward from the bow and allowing him to get a quick peek at the beautiful sky above.Riaris tried to shake off the dizzy spell, but he could easily feel the pain throbbing in his chin. The Drykas was a fit warrior and just the kind of match that he had been hoping for, Riaris was pleased.

Rubbing his chin, the Akalak licked his lips to remove the bit of blood that was produced from where he bit his tongue after the ax was thrust into his chin. He raised his fist again, one bare and the other firmly grasping the lakan that he carried. He knew that he had to be careful and watch for Vanator's quickness as well as his ax. Now that it was his turn to attack again, Riaris darted forward, quickly lifting his leg into a half kick that was pulled back just as quickly.

A fake.

His darted forward again, looking to get directly in the Drykas' face as he lifted his right leg and swung it out towards the man's ribs and followed it up with a strike with the lakan with the flat of the blade slicing towards his throat. Riaris wasn't done just yet, as he figured the man would block the lakan and attempted to reach out and grasp his arm. If he was successful and his thoughts correct, the Akalak would hold the man's arm and swing his body around so that he could bring him up and over his shoulder for a judo-like slam.

[Vanator]

The massive shadow of the Akalak that loomed over the human gave way to sunlight as Riaris reeled back from Vanator's blow. The Drykas had hoped that the uppercut with the ax would sufficiently daze the big Riverian, but his friend quickly shook off the blow, and Vanator swore he saw a small smile curl at the violet warrior's mouth. Adrenaline fueled the horseman's excitement, threatening to shove strategy and tactic out of the way in favor of raw assault, such was the worthiness of his stalwart opponent. But to do so was virtual suicide, and wisdom won out. Just in time too.

The hulking Akalak sprung forward. Vanator, now cognizant of Riaris' powerful legs, flinched and turned defensively when his opponent's leg chambered for a kick. His posture now left his side open for Riaris' true attack, and the man's foot collided with Vanator's ribs. The shot was solid and painful, but the Drykas did manage to raise the ax haft enough to deflect the lakan's slash at his throat. But Riaris was not finished. Vanator, unfamilar with most unarmed tactics, suddenly found his arm firmly in the Akalak's grip, his body levered over the Riverian's broad shoulder, and the world turning upside down.

The chaos came to a sudden, stunning halt as Vanator was slammed to the arena floor, a cloud of dust rising about his prone body. His eyes staring upward, the large warrior looming over him. His body ached, his ribs throbbed, his face already swollen and bruised...and his pride stung.

Rolling quickly to his belly, Van let go of the ax, shot his hands out in front of him and grabbed Riaris by the ankles of his boots. Launching into a crouch, Vanator jerked back, using his back and leg muscles in an attempt to yank the big man's feet out from under him.

[Riaris Dovukalis]

Riaris felt a bit of pride swell into his chest when he caught hold of Vanator's arm. He held tightly to the muscular arm of the Drykas and tucked in his form, making himself smaller so that he could bring the man up and over his body. The slam was done and Riaris hoped that his opponent had been winded, but the Drykas proved to be as tough as he was. Riaris had planned another attack, a way of holding the man's arm and contorting it to force him to submit.

However, this wouldn't happen, and before he could even react, Vanator had swept him off his feet in one fluid motion. Riaris watched his own feet come off the ground, lift up and almost over his head just before he felt himself slam hard onto the ground. The Akalak landed flat on his back with a thump that took the breath from his lungs. He reached up quickly and grabbed his head which was now stinging from the smack it took.

He tried to push himself up quickly, he could already guess that Vanator was gearing up for another attack and he had to distance himself quickly. The Akalak was sluggish now, and his headache grew worse the moment that he stood up. But, he had to continue and finish the match. Riaris moved back another step, allowing his vision to refocus on Vanator. His eyes gaze fell upon the Drykas again and he flicked his arm out for a lazy punch and took another step back just in case. Taking a breath, and willing the air back into his lungs, Riaris moved closer, another step, then two as he lashed out with another strike with his lakan.

[Vanator]

Vanator scooped up the wooden ax and staggered a few steps, steadying himself. His head hurt, his back hurt, as did the bruises from Riaris' landed strikes. His opponent seemed equally taxed. The Drykas could see the standing Akalak was momentarily dazed, it appeared, and the Denusk moved forward to engage while he had the chance. The Riverian made a wide haymaker, which Vanator ducked beneath, angling the ax to block the slashing lakan strike that followed. The ax blade was brought around to slash at the arm, too close for a proper arching swing.

Vanator did manage a short hack at the upper limb, then a quick jab to the torso with the butt of the haft before he tried to dodge backwards, wanting to avoid being so close to the agile lakan.

[Riaris Dovukalis]

Vanator was fast, even faster than Riaris had originally thought. The Drykas warrior ducked his attack and successfully blocked the other. In that moment, Riaris found his arms tangled and his mobility challenged. The shorter man moved with ease under him, and the proud Akalak could only watch as blow after blow landed.

He turned away from Vanator at the same time that the Drykus stepped back. He had to reset himself, rotating his arms out to work the pain from the rising bruises out of his abdomen and arm. He gave a nod of respect to his friend and opponent for a good match, but now, he looked to gain an edge. He needed to slow his opponent's movements and keep him away from the flashy and fast paced movements that he had used so far.

His pale eyes narrowed as an idea formed in his mind, and he realized what he would have to do. Riaris moved forward, a step from side to side to catch the Drykas if he tried to dart left or right. Once he was close enough, Riaris dashed in making a swing with his lakan towards the man's body. The move was a wake, and he quickly slammed his shoulder into his opponent and attempted to knock him down. If this move worked, Riaris would quickly grab Vanator's leg and slam his elbow into it to try and cut off his speed.

[Vanator]

Vanator felt the sweat dripping down his back, his lung drawinging in more labored breaths. He hand managed to out-maneuver the larger Akalak so far, limiting the Riverian's skill with both the lakan and hand and foot strikes. The combatants broke apart for a moment, and though Riaris nodded to his friend in acknowledgement, Vanator saw his opponents eyes narrow with an almost wicked intent. The violet warrior had had enough.

As Riaris moved forward, juking side to side to prevent Vanator from attacking from a side, the axeman bounced lightly on his feet, ready to dart at an angle when the opportunity presented itself. At the last moment, the Akalak charged forward, the wooden lakan lashing out. Van instinctively blocked it with the ax, opening himself up for a massive body check. The huge shoulder of the Riverian slammed into Vanator, knocking him backwards. The Denusk was caught in an awkward half-fall, Riaris snagging the Drykas' leg. Then, the large warrior drive the point of his elbow into the horseman's thigh. The blow traumatized the bulked muscle of Van's upper leg, causing sharp pain that forced the Drykas to cry out. Riaris had delivered the ultimate dead leg.

Van wriggled free, scrambling to gain some distance from the big fighter. Struggling to his feet, fierce pain shot through his leg as he tried to stand on it. Van shot the ax out towards Riaris as if to warn off an attack, ready to defend himself as he tried to recover, the veins popping out on his forehead, his teeth grit together. The Drykas limped back a few more steps, regaining his fighting stance. Riaris, with his strategic blow, had cleverly leveled the playing field, if not tilted it in his favor.

Van shifted the ax in his hand, moving again, remembering to always move, even if he had to stagger. As he limped around, trying to shake the pain in his thight, the Drykas gave the wooden ax a flourish, a whipping arc of figure eights inviting the Akalak to make a move.