Flashback Testing Mettle (Razkar) [Arena of Ancients]

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Taloba, home to the Myrians, is the thriving core of Falyndar. Inhabited by a fierce and savage tribe where blood sacrifices are normal and a way of life, they are untamed and proud of it. Warlike, and with their numbers growing, the Myrians are set on reclaiming what is rightfully theirs. [Lore]

Testing Mettle (Razkar) [Arena of Ancients]

Postby Tinnok on March 7th, 2014, 1:56 am

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Testing Mettle
56th of Winter 511 A.V.


It was a couple bells before dusk as Tinnok awkwardly walked through the dusty and choked back streets of Taloba, preferring for various reasons to avoid the crowds that milled on the streets leading to the Trading Square and Military Compound.

She rushed forward, for she had a date to keep with Eagle, a very important one at that. Thinking of it in those terms made her smirk, but it was a date...of sorts. Perched upon her back and in her belts was an entire arsenal of weapons, one that made it more than a bit difficult to get through the narrower sections of Taloba on the way to her destination.

A few more chimes of difficult travel, however, and the landscape opened up, revealing the semi-sunken ruins of the ancient arena that held the blood of so many. It had become a favored meeting spot for the two Taloban soldiers. Perhaps because the aura and stigma of the place repelled most others, perhaps because of what it symbolized. Regardless, Tinnok made her way over to a fallen pillar and began lining up her weapons upon it.

First were her longbow and quiver. She doubted any archery would take place today, but one could never be too sure. Next was her scimitar, beside it a borrowed long spear, beside that a long line of daggers. She eyed the array proudly, stepping back, then looking up to see that her training partner was already sitting, one eyebrow cocked and his lips quorked in a shyke eating grin watching her.


Tinnok blushed a bit embarassed. "What? I wasn't going to carry them all the whole session..."


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Testing Mettle (Razkar) [Arena of Ancients]

Postby Razkar on March 7th, 2014, 5:40 am

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In retrospect, Razkar realized that sharpening his blades may not have been the most apropos thing for him to be doing. After all, he wasn't looking to hurt the female. Their furtive sessions in the Arena were just another sparring session, but wilder, more unhinged and less hidebound that on the red sands on the Training Yards.

But she won't be holding back, he thought with a smile, running his whetstone over his gladius from hilt to tip, one long and steady scrape coming with it, and that's why you love them, so I pays to be prepared.

One would hardly think they were still within Taloba, looking around at the faded, tumbled down walls. Only the din beyond them hinted at civilization beyond. Vines and even trees had invaded the Myrian-made coliseum over the centuries; frescoes and tapestries that had taken years to complete were now lost to the eyes, Caiyha's most industrious and widespread children snaking up the walls, over them, between cracks and-

Something heavy thudded down to the sand and drew a flicker of Razkar's gaze. He paused, grip on his weapons firmer... but there was nothing else, and he shook his head.

Another few hundred years, the rest will fall. Caiyha is ever a patient goddess; only Tanroa would be her equal. I wonder what will become of this place then.

A low chuckle escaped his throat.

"Or where the young will go for their private spars."

A new sound crept into his ears, but nothing was so stealthy in the grand and fallen arena. Even a mouse's scurrying would be magnified, echoing around the faceless walls and tall trees. His gaze shifted and a smile split his face; one of those grins that swells the body along with it as if the soul is fed by the sight alone.

"Well met, Wolf." He said, putting his treasured blade to one side and adopting a pose of pure insouciance. "Punctual as always..."

"What? I wasn't going to carry them all the whole session..."

He let his features speak for him: the grin alone was worth a dozen dirty ditties. But eventually he stood on the boulder he'd claimed and sheathed his weapons again, ax and gladius resting at his hips.

"Oh, and will the Dhani give you a tick to take them all off in an ambush? Will the barbarians back off until you're ready?" Razkar said with his voice dripping playful scorn, hand clutching his beast. "Ah, I can see it now: your loveliness alone will assure their chivalry."

Before Wolf could throw back a barb, Razkar tensed his legs, gauged the eight feet or so down to the sand and jumped-

Remember, head steady, body moving, but legs swinging.

-and jerked his head and torso forward, arms tucked it, legs swinging up in a somersault-

-landing heavily, legs bending instinctively as he touched down and forced away the ever-present wobble of gravity reasserting itself. He spread his arms like an acrobat looking for applause, and still, that smile...

Few things so pleasurable that showing off for one you care for.

"You named me Eagle, so I thought it best I learn to fly." His grin took a wicked edge as he filled his hands. "At least it will add an extra... flavor, to this session for us."

The male held up his gladius and ax, wondering what the female would favor that day. The evil-looking curved sword seemed to be her forte, but she was ever-learning, seeking to vary herself like a true warrior, impossible to pin down and easily disassemble.

His black eyes flashed a wink, naked challenge shining on his face, heart already pounding. Aya may have been his love and she was far from helpless, but Tinnok? She'd fight you fofr fifteen then drah her arse upright for another go.

"Want me to lose one? I wouldn't want to overwhelm a... poor female."

That should do it. Here we go...

OOCGotta love Expert in Acrobatics...
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My Words | Your Words | Myrian | Fratavan | My Thoughts
Razkar has been cursed by Yahal, and as such finds little acceptance from others; they will instinctively view him as being deceptive and traitorous. However, when close to one blessed by Yahal, the effect is negated. The curse is etched onto his left pectoral, and viewing the mark causes others to feel dirty and unclean.
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Testing Mettle (Razkar) [Arena of Ancients]

Postby Tinnok on March 10th, 2014, 3:23 am

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OOCWe both have the same exact stats in acrobatics lol, this is gunna be fun! *discounts the master level of everything else he has*

As soon as he moved her eyes were on him, watching. Eagle was altogether too good with both of the weapons clutched in his hands. She had seen firsthand how effectively he could cleave a skull with an axe, or stab and slice with the gladius. They were not weapons she was interested in, but she was interested in preventing them from tearing apart her flesh.

Her lips curled at his inciting comments. If he was going for his favored weapons her best bet would be to grab two of her daggers and go at him. She was still a fool when it came to handling two daggers simultaneously, but she knew her way around the shorter blades enough to hold her own.

"Fly, aye?" Two fingers scooped up the smooth wooden shaft of the spear and twisted it slowly (so she didn't show how unskilled she was) around her wrist a couple times, staring at the lazy spinning of the shaft in her hand, before grasping it with both fists and holding it horizontally across her chest.

She saw dark eyebrows rise slightly as she began to take long steps backward instead of charging into his experience arms. One, two, three...

Then, much faster her legs surged forward. Tinnok pushed with all of her might off the ball of her right foot, propelling her up and onto a slanted pillar, left foot curling around crumbling rock, gaining just enough of a grip beneath her calloused skin before vaulting off. Her head dipped, her back arching and she flipped forward, body turning around the spear as if it was the center of the universe, to land back upon both feet, knees bent, spear still horizontal in front of her, several feet from Eagle, a grin plastered upon her features. She didn't let the moment go to waste either, for her hips shifted, creating a smaller target of herself, and with it so did the shaft of the spear, end tucking in against her hip, both hands drawing closer together, hoping this would give her more strength as she stabbed outward toward Razkar's stomach with the glistening steel tip of her weapon.

It was a powerful, but painfully straightforward movement, one of the few Tinnok had a grasp of, and though half of her stance was...passible, she didn't follow through with her body upon the spear attack, her body stiff in regards to the weapon.

She doubted she would get far with him with this particular technique, novice as she was, but lucky for the abomination, two of her preferred weapons were still tucked in the small of her back, in case of emergency.


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Testing Mettle (Razkar) [Arena of Ancients]

Postby Razkar on March 10th, 2014, 8:13 am

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"Bloody hells..."

That was all the appreciation he managed to express after Wolf proved who kept her feathers in better condition (you know what I mean). She flew and flipped and seemed to defy nature as she landed hard... but with her spear still ready for combat, and that impressed the Myrian.

"Not bad at-"

Then she proved she wasn't just there to show off, either. The spear jutted towards his stomach and Wolf twisted to his side, spear head jutting past him-

-gladius moving instinctively to parry it away from him-

In a blink he noted her hands. Closer together and a firm grip... but strong as it was, it meant she had left control over the shaft as a whole. A glimpse, the merest reflection of feral satisfaction flashed through his black eyes and then-

-he kicked upward at the spear with his right foot when his gladius had parried it far enough away, a solid blow meant to send it shaking, trembling in her grip and jerking upward, out of her control-

-as Wolf slid sideways towards her, ax swinging diagonally towards her-

-but it was a feint; it would keep going just in front of her, then his arm would fold across his chest, doubled over-

-and he'd slam his elbow square into the top of her chest.

He wouldn't cut her up, but they were still Children of Myri: their lessons were steeped in pain, and learning from it.
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My Words | Your Words | Myrian | Fratavan | My Thoughts
Razkar has been cursed by Yahal, and as such finds little acceptance from others; they will instinctively view him as being deceptive and traitorous. However, when close to one blessed by Yahal, the effect is negated. The curse is etched onto his left pectoral, and viewing the mark causes others to feel dirty and unclean.
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Testing Mettle (Razkar) [Arena of Ancients]

Postby Tinnok on March 12th, 2014, 2:38 am

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She watched, her smile disappearing immediately in favor of focusing on how Eagle's response would go. As always he was swift and precise, not wasting a moment to knock her spear up and away. His strike jarred her grip, and one hand let go of the spear, turning it away and tucking it haphazardly behind her back, shaky and infirm, taking half a step back, but not in time to miss the painful elbow to her chest.

She grunted, and hopped back upon another pillar, crouching like a bird, trying to capture her breath and shake off the pain while twirling the spear in front of her and grasping it with both hands again, her body shifting ever so slightly in order to keep balance, toes curling over the old stone.

Pushing off with both feet she lunged at him, raising the spear like a club with the butt of it aimed at Razkar's shoulder for a good bruising. As she watched his body come up to block her attack she twisted her torso, legs curling up beneath her and dropped the spear, and went for both of her daggers curled up in her belt, but didn't have enough time to draw them out as she landed heavily upon the ground in front of Razkar. Instead she pushed up off the ground hard and rammed her head into his stomach.


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Testing Mettle (Razkar) [Arena of Ancients]

Postby Razkar on March 12th, 2014, 10:19 am

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"When did you get so springy, hmm?"

After coughing like an asthmatic, Razkar managed to get that quip out before lunging back into the fray. The female jumped and flitted around like a sparrow, light and carefree, feet always carrying her right. Her spear lashed out at his shoulder and his gladius jerked up to deflect it-

-but found little force behind the blow, mind devoting a crucial split-tick to wondering why-

-as he saw the weapon fall from her hands as she landed, jerking to the smal of her back instead as she crouched-

Fuc-

-but couldn't get them out fast enough and bounced at him a second time, using her head like a battering ram and already he stepped away-

Not far enough.

A comical "oof!" was drawn from him like someone has squeezed his stomach and Razkar knew the breeze would be there a while. Twin flashes were in her hand and suddenly caution left him, realizing he had to get and get fast-

-bending himself backward sharply, hands reach behind his back, wrapped around his blades-

-grunting as his fists ground into the sand and the chunks of stone under it. He knew an acrobat was meant to use their hands for this, but he'd sooner get skinless knuckles than lose his weapons-

-legs swinging over his head and knees barking sharply in protest as he landed atop an old stone, weapons upright as he crouched, Wolf now with her weapons free-

Eagle grinned at her, face shining with sweat and joy. It had been too long.

He exploded off the stone, head whipping around as his body whirling, spinning kick leveled at the female's head and shoulders-

-ax ready to follow it up with a shallow swipe when he landed, gladius kept close to parry-

But first you have to land, male. You don't think she'll make it easy, do you?

No, he didn't. Why else would he love her like she did?
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My Words | Your Words | Myrian | Fratavan | My Thoughts
Razkar has been cursed by Yahal, and as such finds little acceptance from others; they will instinctively view him as being deceptive and traitorous. However, when close to one blessed by Yahal, the effect is negated. The curse is etched onto his left pectoral, and viewing the mark causes others to feel dirty and unclean.
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Razkar
War Is The Answer
 
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Testing Mettle (Razkar) [Arena of Ancients]

Postby Tinnok on March 12th, 2014, 6:42 pm

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She leapt up swiftly, keeping a proud smile from her features at having landed the head butt. She knew better than to get too cocky with Eagle, who could change the tables so swiftly with his attacks. She hopped nibmly backwards and slid one calloused bare foot out behind her, yellows eyes glinting as she watched the bird on his own perch eyeing her for the next move.

She flipped both daggers around in her hands, feeling their weight. They were nearly identical in make, slightly curved steel with simply tanned leather wrapped around the hilt, but the one in her right hand weighed just an ounce more than the one in her left. She was comfortable with the difference, however, and as her fingers curled tightly, but not too much so around the handles, she felt ready for what Razkar would throw at her next.

She was up on the balls of her feet when he came, her eyes watching with awe at the amount of power that he could throw into the kick. She waited half a tick, watching his face light up in surprise, for it was almost as if she was simply going to stand there and take the blow.

Then her weight upon her hips shifted, back foot taking her away from the strike though she felt a powerful breeze behind the blow. Of course he hadn't expected to land that particular obvious blow, which is why his axe came slicing swiflty afterward, headed for her midsection. Now Tinnok turned so the warriors were perpendicular to each other, bringing up one of her daggers harshly to catch the curve of the axe head and bring it up and away, her other dagger staying close to her chest, just in case.

One foot lashed out towards his knee cap, hoping to further set her opponent off balance, one dagger still holding his axe at bay as the other, hilt first jammed towards his chest. Her breath seethed through her teeth, but she could no longer keep the smile from creeping along her features. This was what it meant to be Myrian after all, and she would no sooner share a bout like this with anyone else.


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Testing Mettle (Razkar) [Arena of Ancients]

Postby Razkar on March 12th, 2014, 9:55 pm

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It was never what you expected; what you planned. At best, it was what you prepared for, and even then new possibilites and solutions spread out from a single swing of a blade or thrust from a fist like roots from a tree.

Razkar likes the "solutions" part. Every punch, every slash, every offensive and counter and block and dodge and... all of it, taken as a whole and disassembled into a thousand problems to be solved, only for another to immediately replace it-

And having the skill and speed and courage to do it all in a tick. Over and over. Until your enemy is defeated.

His kick was adroitly avoided, as he expected, but then the landing Eagle discovered the curve of his ax could work to hook him away, too, not just snag an enemy's blade or limb. Wolf jerked it away and caught as it was, he couldn't free his weapon, am extended away-

-as the hilt of her dagger thudded towards him-

But not before her foot made contact with his knee. A measured blow, perhaps, but anyone struck there knows that is scant consolation. The male grunted and went down to one knee, balance thrown by the ax pulled away from him-

-gladius swinging in an arc in front of him-

-flat of the blade aimed at knocking away her forearm and the blade it held, directing it anywhere but his stomach-

Solutions, boy! This is just evasion, not resolution! Strike back!

Razkar gritted his teeth and decided in a blink to get creative. Gripping his ax tighter, hoping to retain it, he would throw himself onto his back, kneeling leg lifted off the ground-

-ready to explode outward into Wolf's stomach, aided by the reverse momentum of his falling torso, knocking her back as hard as he could, out of her (short) range-

-and Eagle would swiftly pull his legs back to his chest, torso almost diagonal from the ground, shoulders bearing his weight-

-legs jerking down and forward as he barked out as his abs tightened like a fist around his guts, hurling his torso forward-

-landing on his feet, crouching, weapons ready for her next attack-

-staggering like a stage drunk until he nearly crashed into a pillar, because let's face it, he wasn't that good (yet)-

-but still with a grin on his face that was so close to sexual it would have been funny, had he not been holding deadly weapons... and if the landing didn't put yet more agony on his bruised knee.

Hold it down until it's over. Not going to let a bloody tap on the leg put us down...

It's called... :
... a kip-up, just in case I wasn't clear. ;)
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My Words | Your Words | Myrian | Fratavan | My Thoughts
Razkar has been cursed by Yahal, and as such finds little acceptance from others; they will instinctively view him as being deceptive and traitorous. However, when close to one blessed by Yahal, the effect is negated. The curse is etched onto his left pectoral, and viewing the mark causes others to feel dirty and unclean.
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Razkar
War Is The Answer
 
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Testing Mettle (Razkar) [Arena of Ancients]

Postby Tinnok on March 13th, 2014, 2:05 am

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She felt her whole body tighten in preperation for Eagle's response attack, trying to force her body to relax, fingers sweating around dagger hilts. She slid upon the ground, left foot holding, her right making an arc in the sand around her, ready and waiting, but nothing could quite prepare her from his body yanking her into position and punting her body into the air. She dropped her daggers, folding up, and her back thudded hard against one of the pillars, causing her to bite her lip.

Pain was something real and tangible, in reality Tinnok preferred it to name calling, dirt looks, and spitting. Pain she could feel and absorb, she could take it until she was falling down and broken, so her eyes flashed open immediately, and even as she tumbled to the ground her palms were burying themselves in the dirt with force enough to get her back on her feet, a move not so graceful as Razkar using horrendously tight abdominals to bring himself upright.

Her lips parted in a not often seen 'O', and part of her mind glazed over before a shooting spiral of pain wound itself up her spine and she almost fell forward on her face.

Pain, real and tangible...A small growl escaped her throat, and up she was again, she ran forward towards him, long legged strides, her lips curled into a grimace. She saw that grin turn into one of pure glee to see her running unarmed straight into his prepared grasp, but Wolf was not running toward him for an attack, at least...not precisely.

She feigned a fist straight for his stomach, but even as Eagle bent for a block, she rotated her hips to the right, her right foot sliding over his left thight, her left foot pushing off the ground so her body arced over and past him, landing lightly first the right foot then the left, pushing off and arcing her body forward, her empty palms touching the ground and propelling her rear and curled legs up and over her head in a handspring that brought her back to her original pillar, where she plucked two of her reserve daggers and twirled back to face the Eagle. A wisp of hair fell out of her neat corded braid and fell between her eyes, their thin slits surrounded by molten gold that glittered as she grinned at him.

"Think fast." She smiled and drawing back her right hand she flipped her dagger up in the air, eyes catching the gleaming glint of metal, then grabbed the hilt of the weapon and hurled it directly toward his chest. Fair or nice? Perhaps not, but he had kicked her into a pillar, something her stomach starkly reminded her as her arm lurched out with the throw, a pained cough rising in her chest.


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Testing Mettle (Razkar) [Arena of Ancients]

Postby Razkar on March 13th, 2014, 10:34 am

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More and more it was like fighting a wisp of smoke; Razkar felt like a Tskanna tramping around after a jaguar, all strength and bluster with little subtlety to back it up.

Hey, you got your digs in, too, boy. Just have to capitalize on it.

Easier said than done
, he grumbled internally a second later, swinging for the sliding Wolf as she foolishly got in close with hr feint-

-fist hitting empty air as her body cartwheels and spun to his side-

-landing on a pillar as her arms hurled her off the ground, and by the time he'd spun around to face her again they were shining with steel again-

-no, one was empty, beautifully whirling arc of metal just above it gleaming in the fierce light from the sky not hidden by the canopy. Then she caught it and a grin split her face.

"Think fast."

Eagle didn't quip or try to be smart: he knew what was coming, after all. The silver dart hurtled towards him and he had less than a tick to react, to block, to dodge, to-

Ah, petch it!

-bend himself backward, knee screeching in protest the whole time, ligaments stretched and brutalized by his desperate evasion-

-knuckles wrapped around his weapons touching the sand again, grinding into them as he gritted his teeth, lithe torso stretched hard over his bone and muscle again-

-fleeting blink of zipping, flying dagger hurtling over his head in a flat line, slicing through empty air instead of tanned flesh instead-

-and with a growl Eagle threw his legs up and over, finishing his back handspring as his legs touched down-

"Think faster."

Without a pause he threw his gladius her way, hurling it sideways at her legs, long, sharpened blade spinning round and round like a disc, threatening to cut her legs out from under her on her perch-

-forcing her to move, react-

-and Razkar was already lunging forward behind the blade, kicking off from a fallen pillar to his right, trying to get closer to her level-

-ax swinging for her again, left fist curled and ready to strike-

-black eyes wild and joyful and enraptured at the sight of her, them, this, all of this; performing and exerting for the dead approval of the faceless ghosts cramming the Arena of Ancients.
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My Words | Your Words | Myrian | Fratavan | My Thoughts
Razkar has been cursed by Yahal, and as such finds little acceptance from others; they will instinctively view him as being deceptive and traitorous. However, when close to one blessed by Yahal, the effect is negated. The curse is etched onto his left pectoral, and viewing the mark causes others to feel dirty and unclean.
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Razkar
War Is The Answer
 
Posts: 1795
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