Closed Rising

[Karsynwa]

32nd of Fall, 520 AV

In the days following Arrel’s death, Karsynwa found a sort of peace sparring in the early bell of the morning. It helped that there way usually at least one person around the lodge at that hour. Today it was a member of his squad, a man named Brevar he was not quite so familiar with. Neither of them were in a mood to talk which suited Karsynwa quite fine. The weight of Arrel’s death was hard enough to bear without giving voice to it, though it was clear that it weighed heavily on both of them.

Karsynwa stood across with his lakan that he carried in a underhand grip. His opponent favored a scimitar and a small buckler. Their weapons were sheathed in a thick padding that should minimize potential harm, but Karsynwa knew it would still hurt if he got thwacked by that large blade. The room was as open and simple as the Sasaran. Covering the stone floor in a large square in the center was a sheet of heavy white cloth. Underneath smaller squares of woven grass added padding, and a slight texture underfoot as he paced towards his sparring partner. The walls were bare save for the torches that kept the room well lit at this early bell when the sun had yet to come over the cliff to illuminate the lodge.

Brevar stepped forwards, ready to lead the confrontation. He took a probing slash with his scimitar, the three feet of padded steel swishing harmlessly through the air between them. Karsynwa took a few testing jabs of his own, practicing his hooks when he withdrew his lakan from a strike. At last they closed the distance between them. Karsynwa lunged to the side as the scimitar whipped forward at his head. As he came up, he met the scimitar low with his lakan as Brevar pivoted to follow his movements.

The buckler slammed into his lower ribs before he could get a hold of that arm sending Karsynwa stumbling back. Brevar followed it up with a roar of exultation as he charged. Ducking under the blow, Karsynwa slammed his fist into Brevar’s gut, and then he punched up with the hand clenched around his lakan. Its crossguard struck Brevar across the base of his chin, immediately drawing a thin line of blood that trailed down his neck. The larger man fell away from him with the blow, and caught himself. Karsynwa met his eyes, and shrugged. Brevar felt around his lower teeth with his tongue, then laughed, straightening out.

“Happens” Brevar said with a grunt before stomping forwards. This time Karsynwa backed up slowly, his free hand held cupped at the ready. His lakan was flipped right side up now. His eyes were fastened on the scimitar, only briefly switching to look at where the man was looking. It was hard to gauge his next move when he prowled around the sparring mats like a predator. The larger reach of his sword worried Karsynwa, but he was quickly running out of space to retreat. Eventually he was going to have to make a move.

WC - 519

[Karsynwa]

Date, Season, Year

Brevar came at him hard, his scimitar swiping low. With no time to retreat, Karsynwa met the blade by thrust downward with his lakan. The force of the blow briefly pinned his right arm to his thigh as the buckler came thrusting for his head. Catching the edge of the shield with his free hand, he managed to turn it to the side. Brevar snapped his head forward, striking Karsynwa just above his left cheek bone.

Faintly Karsynwa heard his weapon thud onto the floor as his spun backwards in a daze. Pain blazed around his eye as black spots dotted his vision. The cool stone of the back wall pressed against the naked flesh of his shoulder. Karsynwa let out a shuddering breath as Brevar kicked his lakan towards him. Bending over, he thought himself about to faint as he took it up between his fingers. The cold steel grounded him somewhat as he pushed off the wall.

He led the dance now. Brevar struck out into empty air as Karsynwa side stepped the strike. His free hand catching Brevar’s sword arm low in its arch as he levered against the back of his wrist with the padded edge of his lakan. Brevar growled, and jerked his arm free of the hold, blocking Karsynwa’s follow up strike with his buckler. Seeing the man’s leg was over extended, Karsynwa struck out with a kick, landing it solidly against the side of Bervar’s calf. His full weight wasn’t behind the kick so when Brevar took it stolidly, Karsynwa was left less time to react as the man’s scimitar came down in an overhead cut.

Stabbing up with his lakan, he let his cross guard do the work for him as he twisted the blade aside. Expecting the shield, he managed to grasp the buckler along the top of its rim before Brevar could get much momentum behind it. He tucked his head in, and brought his knee up which Brevar blocked by bringing up his own leg. They tangled together for a moment before falling hard onto the ground.

Rolling as they struggled across the padded mats, Karsynwa worked on trying to separate from him. Their weapons lay long forgotten where they fell, but Brevar still had his buckler. A buckler he was using to occasionally get a jab into his side whenever the chance presented itself. Finally, Karsynwa managed to get his foot between them and shoved off. He flipped away over onto his belly panting as he tried to catch his breath. Pushing up from the ground, he balanced on his right knee as Brevar did the same across the mat from him. Sweat dripped from his brow to spatter onto the white cloth. There was some blood there as well. A faint pink that spotted the mat underneath him as he slowly came to his feet.

“That was a good hit. I didn’t expect you to come at me in that way.” Karsynwa said, breathing heavily in through his nose, then out through his mouth.

WC - 507

[Karsynwa]

Date, Season, Year

“I didn’t expect you to catch me in the chin with that uppercut.” Brevar said, wiping off some of the blood dribbling down his chin with the back of his hand. This was nothing new to such a place. Even with padding, it was easy to draw blood when passions were high. His heart was hammering in his chest now, blood a dull roar in his ears. The grip of his lakan was slick, and there was a slight tremble of exertion from the hand that held it. They were only getting started.

Since Brevar had been kind enough to gather up their weapons, Karsynwa ceded to him the first move. He waved his lakan through a tight figure eight as he waited. His gaze tight as he waited for that scimitar to start sweeping towards him. Brevar balanced on the balls of his feet, then spun. His buckler came sweeping across. Karsynwa stepped under it, then hastily brought up his lakan to block a strike from the scimitar. He caught the broad blade towards the hilt, angling it away so the scimitar rolled over his block. Karsynwa twisted with the momentum, and still crouched, slammed his shoulder into the back of Brevar’s leg. It buckled this time as the man toppled over him. He sprawled flat before hastily crawling to his feet, and turning to see Brevar had recovered already.

The scimitar was already coming down. Karsynwa hopped away, catching himself on his elbows and knees, then twisted around to fend of another strike that took his lakan from him. Desperate, Karsynwa threw his elbow back connecting with Brevar’s solid midsection. The man released a gasp of air before doubling over slightly as Karsynwa dived to grasp his lakan again. Blade in hand, he got to his feet as quickly as he could manage, and then turned about, slashing across preemptively. It rung off the heavy metal of his buckler, and Karsynwa saw his scimitar thrust low.

Jerking his body to the side, the blade narrowly missed him to scrape of the stone wall. Karsynwa lashed out with his elbow again, catching him across his bloodied chin. Brevar’s head snapped backwards with the blow, and he stumbled backwards to land heavily on his ass. Karsynwa straighted his arm and immediately felt a jolt of pain that started at his elbow. He winced as he started for his downed opponent. His hand was extended even before he closed the distance between them.

“Sorry about that. It was a cheap hit, but you had me against the wall.” Karsynwa said, his voice low and raspy as he fought to catch his breath. Eyes a bit unfocused as he realized that blow to the head he took earlier was still having an effect on him. Brevar took his hand, and once he was on his feet, clasped Karsynwa behind the neck.

“Alls good. It was a fair strike.” Brevar said, wearing a bloody grin. As the man bent over to collect his scimitar, Karsynwa took the place back that he had before across the mat from him.

WC - 515

[Karsynwa]

Date, Season, Year

He should have went with a longer weapon, but part of him relished the challenge. If only there was an easier way to get within his reach. That scimitar had put him off onto his back foot for much of this battle so he was feeling a little eager to give Brevar a taste of that pressure. Karsynwa stalked forward, and hunkered low as he bore down on the man. His blade slicing horizontal as he closed in. Brevar blocked the strike awkwardly with the flat of his blade, then countered with a shield bash. Karsynwa took it on his upper chest, jerking him back a step as the pain arched across his collarbone.

He gripped the top of the buckler and twisted. Brevar’s arm bent out awkwardly. Karsynwa fended off another strike from the scimitar with his lakan. Without much strength behind it the blade got caught between the lakan and the floor. As Brevar tried to drag it free, Karsynwa stepped onto his foot, then stripped the shield out of his hand. The pair went stumbling backwards to opposite sides of the mat. Karsynwa caught himself on the backfoot, and lunged forward. A series of strikes followed as his lakan worked down the middle of the scimitar to start striking Brevar across his fingers. Growling, Brevar gripped the curved upper end of the blade with his free hand, somehow retaining his grip enough to shove against Karsynwa as he was winding back to swing again.

Stepping backward with the energy of the push, he worked on the blade high, his lakan dully ringing off the wider scimitar. Then when he saw his chance he grabbed Brevar’s wrist with his free hand. Brevar pulled him in close, and Karsynwa wrapped a leg around his to send them both tumbling to the ground. His grip stayed sound on the man’s hand as they rolled across the mat. As Brevar tried pushing him off, Karsywna repeatedly slammed his hand against the ground till finally the man let go of the saber. However he wasn’t finished yet, wrapping Karsynwa’s middle then tossing him onto his back. His lakan went skittering across the spar room floor before he even realized it left his hand. Brevar was on him in a blink, trying to immobilize him. Struggling to keep his hands from getting a good hold, Karsynwa wrapped his legs around the man and squeezed. Shoved his elbow underneath the man’s chin then got his hand curled around the back of Brevar’s neck. Pulling forwards, he used the brief distraction to get a grip on the man’s wrist and twisted it off of him. Then slugged him once. Twice. His blows landing along the man’s lower ribs drawing a grunt from Brevar with each blow. Brevar only squeezed him back tighter, and even managed to pin Karsynwa’s left arm to his side.

Trapped in the uncomfortable stalemate, they separated after a chime to pick up their discarded weapons once more. His clothing stuck to his body like a second skin as he took a brief break to take a refreshing pull from his waterskin.

WC - 520

[Karsynwa]

Date, Season, Year

“I suppose we could make things a little more fair.” Brevar chuckled as he set aside his scimitar and buckler before pulling out his lakan. Karsynwa inclined his head slightly to share a grin.

“You sure about that? I don’t think I have ever seen you duel.” Karsynwa said, keeping his tone light with the remark. The man just shook his head as he wrapped a thick sheaf of padding around the blade, then squared up with him.

“Don’t you worry about that, just focus on your own blade work.” Brevar said with an easy shrug. Rotating his right shoulder, Karsynwa felt it pop as his grip tightened around his lakan. He nodded, and waited for Brevar to step forwards before he followed suit.

Brevar lead with a straight forward jab. Turning sideways as he stepped into the strike, he pulled his arm up to block with his lakan. His free hand latching around Brevar’s elbow as he took control of the man’s arm to twist it downward. Karsynwa was about to kick out at the man’s right leg when Brevar tried to slug him. He managed to doge the fist, but at the cost of breaking his hold. As he backed away, he brought up his lakan to fend off the next strike. Their blades locked together as Karsynwa stepped forward till their arms were locked high above their head.

Ducking underneath Brevar’s upraised arm, Karsynwa withdrew his blade from the tangle then shoved his shoulder into the man’s lower back. He stumbled forward as Karsynwa twisted around and charged. His blade held high as he swiped downward to slam against Brevar’s upraised blade. The pieces of curved steel clinked together as the hilts locked, and with a quick turn, then pull Karsynwa drew Brevar’s Lakan out of his grip to clatter against the floor.

Suppressing a smile Karsynwa backed away a few paces to allow Brevar to collect his weapon while he removed the padding from his lakan and sheathed the blade.

“Thanks for the spar.” Karsynwa said, breathing hard as he walked over to a wall to lean against it. His opponent was similarly winded and took a moment to respond as he collected all of his belongings.

“Not a problem. It was a good fight.” Brevar said in between breathes. He nodded in agreement with the man’s assessment as his eyes cut to the doorway to the sparring pit. The day was yet young as darkness still clung beyond the torchlight. It would be a while yet before the sun started showing across the dark face of the cliff. Karsynwa didn’t mind, that just made for a quiet morning patrol. On his way out of the room he patted Brevar on the back who smiled in appreciation. Then it was out into the blustery morning hair, the wind already picking up with the approach of Winter. Karsynwa took a moment to throw a cloak over his shoulders before stepping out into the street to start his patrol.

WC - 501