Overboard II (Moritz)

[Cleon]

65th of Spring, 522 AV

Without the benefit of reading his mind, it struck Cleon again how odd and alien he looked staring back at him with those odd eyes of his. Paired with the unusual hair it was altogether turning into an uncomfortable experience as the young man stopped trying to talk and just watched him. It was almost worse than that sharp tongue of his, but Cleon tried to face it with a grin that he didn’t feel as he caught his breath. Straightening up, and tilting his shoulders so he was square with Moritz, he was waiting to see what the young man would do. Fortunately he did not have to wait long before Moritz burst forward.

It caught Cleon off guard as he hastily tried to draw his arms together but- too late, Moritz’s fist thumped off his chest sending him a couple of steps backwards. The hit smarted as Cleon winced, his hands at the ready but ready to do nothing as Moritz danced backwards. Cleon took a step forward in pursuit then another, swinging wide with his right in hopes that he might catch Mortiz’s shoulder or something. He didn’t. He missed and his next swing missed too. Like he was fighting air.

Cleon turned on his heel to swing his arms back in front of himself to block a counter from Moritz. It wasn’t a good guard as the back of his hand ended up smacking his face even though Moritz hadn’t been even striking that part of his arm. He was starting to feel a little overwhelmed by this transition to their training, surprised at how much the tempo had changed. They weren’t palling around anymore that was for sure.

When Cleon got a moment he tried a counter of his own swinging low then high trying to use his weight like Moritz had showed him but in the heat of the moment he forgot nearly everything and focused less on keeping his guard up as he instead focused more on landing a single punch. However instead of actually getting the hit he desired he either missed or was diverted before he could land the blow while he left his face and upper body open to any counter strikes from Moritz. Eventually, Cleon was all played out and had to take a break, kneeling in the sand as he panted hard. He couldn’t even look up at this moment as the sweat dripped off his face and threatened to get in his eyes as he blinked the salty sting away from his vision.

When he caught enough of his breath to say something, he pushed himself upright to look properly at Moritz. “This is why I always avoid brawls.” He said with a slightly crooked smile that made his face hurt. In their little scuffle he'd managed to pick up quite a few abrasions and they hadn't even been fighting for real. It really hammered home how unprepared he was for the real thing. To think his plan for the curser had been to jab a poisoned knife into him when he wasn't looking. The thought almost made him laugh only he was glad now that he hadn't found whoever was behind this. Luke had been right, and James as well. There was so much that he was unprepared for, and it was past time too. He needed to learn how to defend himself fast before whoever was behind this made their next move.

WC - 577

[Moritz Craven]

His first punch thrown at the mans landed on his chest, landing painfully and sending the man staggering away but otherwise not causing much damage. Of course he had not been punching full force, not wanting to hurt him, so he was satisfied with this outcome.

He had been on guard, but not quick enough to block the incoming blow as it came at him. Not even to simply ward it off with his limbs. But then, instinctual reaction and speed would come in time and repetition, and was not expected right away.

Thinking it over, when he sparred seriously Moritz tried to shift things up and change them over time... But seeing as this was a training spar, perhaps the opposite would work? It made a sort of internal logic to his mind, so perhaps it was not a bad idea.

As Cleon threw up his guard though Moritz responded by darting away, which left the man defending against an attack that was not coming.

In response Cleon darted forward aiming a punch at Moritz shoulder area. But backing out of range he was able to dodge that incoming strike, and the one after with another back step putting him out of range.

The quicker speed of an actual spar seemed to throw Cleon off, perhaps making him nervous, and it seemed he was actually doing worse than earlier... Perhaps he was simply not ready for a real spar yet?

After that he seemed so urgent in trying to land an attack he threw out all defense let alone form in his maneuvers and just flailed seemingly at Moritz. Not, he knew, a good way to land a blow. Using his open palm aimed at the mans wrist he shoved at the attack sending it wide, before making a light jab while the man was overextended and undefended.

Soon enough Cleon was tired out and needed to rest, for which Moritz took a few steps back to make it clear he was not going to lash out and attack the man trying to catch his breath on his knee.

Moritz smiled at the man as he explained he avoided fights, wondering on how he planned to do that if he had never tried it. It was like trying to avoid undercooking meat by never cooking. Experience was the only way to avoid that, which meant getting in and cooking meat... If possible under supervision.

"If a chicken eats a turkey, it doesn't make it a duck till the snow comes in."

Frowning at his own words of explanation Moritz was a bit confused by what that was supposed to mean. Usually his lies at least made sense, but perhaps as he did not have a fully formed idea his lie on it was also not fully formed.

Waiting for a bit Moritz would watch the man, but once he felt he had a suitable break and had caught his breath he would move over and extend a hand to pull him back to his feet.

If he did not take the offered limb he would continue to wait, though he assumed eventually the man would get back up. When he did he would motion with his arms in a guard, hoping the man would understand he wanted him to guard up, before taking on a stance of his own.

Once he was suitably defended he would try a different sort of lesson. Repetition. Stepping forward he would try a one two jab of his hands aimed at the mans torso, before making a quick kick at the mans ankle, all holding back his speed from normal. After a moment he would repeat this, a one two punch of his left and then right aimed at the mans torso, and then a kick aimed at the mans leg, this time a bit faster. And then after a bit he would do it again, even if he had to dodge or react to a counter from the man, waiting for a moment when he was on guard and coming in with a one two punch of his left and then right followed by a kick at his leg. Each time he repeated this he would speed up a bit, and by the fifth time he would be at full speed. Though, he hoped, after repeating the attack that many times the man would have worked out a response to it.

WC: 739

[Cleon]

Moritz probably would have done well in Sunberth if he didn’t stick out so much. It was probably good then that this young man knew how to defend himself because trying to blend in with his features seemed downright impossible. The hair he could attribute to a unusual styling preferences but those eyes were striking. Outsiders never faired well in Sunberth, and Moritz was pretty outside in his appearance. Though he seemed to know how to handle himself, so perhaps he’d survive. He did after all.

Cleon took Moritz’s invitation to stand up while he was still trying to understand what the man had just spouted out at him. When he decided it probably wasn’t an insult, he pushed it from his mind as he concentrated on regaining his breath. Inhaling in, out, in, out, in- holding that for a moment before releasing it as he relaxed somewhat before shaking himself. Then he did as Moritz mimed, pulling his right arm to hug against his side while his left arm lurked somewhat below his chin. His body was tense with anticipation as his feet turned slightly inward towards Moritz and his breathing became more regular. Then Moritz came at him, significantly slower this time. Almost like he was baiting him. He didn’t take the bite.

Pulling away from the punches, jerking his leg up, Moritz gave him enough time between strikes to readjust his position though that time was narrowing as their spar moved on. Eventually when he couldn’t step away fast enough he tried slapping away the strikes one after the other while hopping over the kick. It didn’t take him long to work himself back into a pant as he started to breath in rapidly through his nose. He appreciated the fact that Moritz was keeping it consistent. It allowed him to slowly adapt to the strikes, and feel a little less overwhelmed about punches coming his way. If he thought about it like picking a pocket, Moritz was pretending to be a blissfully unaware merchant just waiting to get his valuables lifted. All he had to do was gauge his movements and then when the opportunity came-

Moritz punched. One. Two, slapped away, Cleon right stepped the kick and attempted to push Moritz over with both hands. If that didn't work he would cross his arms as he fell back, trying to defend any reciprocal blows. Any kicks that came during this period he would try blocking with his shin, much to his regret as he proceeded to try and put ground between them. His heart was thundering in his ears as his pupils widened and he took in everything he could manage about the moment as he tensed for Moritz to close the distance. If Moritz didn't follow he would use the brief respite to take a break and catch his breath, taking in deep breaths through his mouth, then out through his mouth. Clenching and unclenching his fists. Stretching his arms above his head and tried to limber up for their next bout while he reviewed what they had just done, and what he had learned. The point that resonated in his mind was of course how stressful it was when things started to really ramp up, even in this environment. Part of that could have been his curse at work but still. There were a lot of things that he definitely needed to work on with pace being one of them.

WC - 577

[Moritz Craven]

While still new to instructing others, Moritz felt he was slowly getting better at it. If one thing did not work, he would try something else. Or adjust what he had tried. Or try that... Or this... The important thing, he was coming to see, was flexibility in his approach. While he did not feel he was ready to even consider a larger group, one on one sessions where he worked out how a single person under him was doing and what they needed seemed possible enough.

With that in mind trying a new kind of spar aimed at showing the man how to defend seemed simple enough a change to possibly work. Perhaps if it worked well he could vary it for next time?

Which was all the more tricky, seeing as he could not even speak properly or communicate much of anything to anyone without having his curse addled tongue shift them on the way out.

If nothing else Cleon seemed willing to learn, and so took his intention to heart and readied himself as he had shown him earlier. It was not until the blows started coming though that the real test and lesson would begin.

Still the repeated moved seemed to help drill the man, starting out with dodging the slower blows and then moving on to diverting them as they got slowly faster and faster and even faster... Or should he say batting them away? For some reason Moritz was reminded of a large cat playing with something, so too did this mans movement look like. Knocking or shooting his blows wide by wildly knocking at them. Personally he would have preferred a bit more precision, a bit more finesse, but he supposed it technically worked... Though he was unsure it would work in a real fight, which was the entire point of the spar. Perhaps the man did not fully get his point, and so was only reacting to the current blow and speed rather than his intent of just learning how to react to such an attack regardless of speed.

Still though the mans moves were so inefficient that his defense was possibly tiring him more than Moritz attacks. He himself was getting tired as well, in general actively attacking did so more than defending, though the fancier the defense or reaction the move tiring it tended to be... That was why blocking was often used, it took little energy to do and so long as your body could take the force it could let your foe tire themselves out and give you a chance to counter critically.

When the shove came mid move Moritz stumbled a bit, a good offense after all was a decent defense at times, but it not being a particularly strong shove and he had good footing he recovered quite quickly. Still, nice enough a counter of sorts. Though he liked to think if it had been a punch of other more serious blow aimed at a critical area he would have reacted differently.

By then as his speed increased and he kept with his punching and kicking combo Cleon seemed to be retreating while blocking, the simplest method of defense and the least tiring but the most prone to taking damage on a hit. Perhaps then the man was tiring out even before he got going fully?

In the end it seemed Cleon needed a break and was retreating, taking in large deep breaths, and so Moritz eased off for a few moments to let him do so.

He watched the man, considering his eyes, his nose, his body, each part as he moved. He considered him both as a whole person and as a series of intricate parts that might interact with him, and considered his plan going forward. What would he do if he fought the man for real, not just in a spar? He was not skilled now, but perhaps he would learn and improve over time... What could he do then? What was his weakness? How did he think? What gaps in his reasoning could be exploited? Perhaps this was something he should do more often, to try and understand the thoughts of other people in a fight.

Once he felt Cleon had taken a long enough break Moritz would charge back in, now with a new series of blows meant to throw him off and force him to reassess things. As before he started slow, perhaps at half speed, increasing though his speed with each repetition until around the fifth time he was going at normal speed.

A punch to the chest, a kick to the back of the knee, a punch to the shoulder on the right side, and then a sweeping kick meant to knock out both of the mans feet. And then a repeat of these four motions a bit quicker, and then again a bit quicker, till back to full speed.

WC: 823

[Cleon]

Cleon felt a brief sense of elation at the fact that he’d managed to get a move in. It wasn’t much of one, but there was room to expand on what he had learned. His body was not as experienced at such prolonged physical activity, especially not on his feet. Back in Sunberth he relied mostly on his ability to move quietly which often meant moving slow, and pulling off dexterous movements. It could be a strain at times, but not in the same way this sort of fatigue was. It made him realize how critical his gift from Laviku could be in a fight, and he would have to make a point about rationing its usage in the future. If he could use it later on in a fight when his opponent was tired then it would be a massive advantage to be fully refreshed. Something to think about for sure, but not know when Moritz seemed to be bearing down upon him.

Once again the young man started out slow, building a rhythm from the ground up before picking up the pace. Cleon was getting a little better about blocking this time, remembering their earlier demonstration so he tried to put into practice a few of those strategies. He dodged when he could dodge, diverted some, and blocked the rest with the solid places on his body. Like the side of his forearm, shoulder, and shins. He found it easier to manipulate those large sections of his body to block than trying anything else that might require a finer control.

All was going fine until he got tripped up blocking his second punch and the leg sweep came on a little quicker than he anticipated. Suddenly Cleon went sprawling and had a fine view of the blue sky above them as he got his breath knocked out in a gasp. Cleon blinked several times in surprise then rolled over on his stomach with a groan. Pushing up onto his elbows, he held that position for a few chimes as he fought to catch his breath and blink past the sudden pain in his back. It wasn’t acute, and it didn’t really hurt for long. The blow just stunned him, and in those chimes he was collecting himself all the aches were starting to blossom back into being across his body.

Cleon eventually looked up from where he was laying to see Moritz, and give him a look of pure chagrin. “Even expecting it you still got me with that leg sweep. I suppose I’ll need to practice on my footwork.” He said breathlessly as he pushed himself up onto his knees, then let Moritz help him up the rest of the way if he offered a hand. Dusting the sand off of himself, he fussed over the fact that he really should get some nicer clothes soon. Small wonder people considered him a drunk when he continued to dress in these rags. He put that behind himself though as he turned to face Moritz again.

“I guess I should be glad this isn’t hard wood though.” Cleon said, chuckling as he rubbed the back of his head. Then feeling a little bit more ready than he had been before, he brought up his arms and tried to mimic more or less the stance from before. “I’m going to try to keep my balance this time.” As he said that he stretched out his right leg and did a little circle in the air with his foot for a few chimes before doing the same with his left. He didn’t want stiffness in his joints to be his excuse for failing this time.

To loosen up his arms, he made a few passes at the air. First he punched out, fully extending his arms before drawing them back to his chest. Then he brought up his elbows, left then right, across his chest. Finally, he punched up at the air, and tried a little kick at the same time though that proved to be a bad idea as he almost slammed onto his ass when he lost his balance with the maneuver. Panting softly, but still feeling energized, he looked back at Moritz once he had regained his previous posture.

“Alright, I think I’m ready.”

WC - 716

[Moritz Craven]

Though it seemed Moritz was in better shape than Cleon, still he felt the strain on his body as he kept at the training. Using the back of his hand he wiped a bit of sweat that was slipping into his eye, blowing upward to get a bit of fluff out of the way. He was sweating pretty good, and already he could feel the strain on his limbs. He was slowly... Well slowing. His punches were a bit weaker even when going full force, not that he did that much or at all really in a training session. He also felt himself slowing down, and a stitch forming in his side and expanding bit by bit.

It was not, he felt, to the point he needed to stop, and he had managed to rest and catch his breath here and there as Cleon had been doing likewise, but still over time the fatigue built. Only fully resting and a good break would restore that, and likely a good nights sleep, but at the same time the more he pushed himself to the edge of his limits the more he felt himself growing stronger. Well, not stronger right away, but stronger once he was rested. If he worked hard now then once he was rested his point of exhaustion would be pushed that bit further, and further the next time, and so on till... Well until he did not know what. Perhaps he would get to a state where he did not tire at all even after bells of work and fighting. He was not there yet, but he could dream of such a future.

He also had a charm that would restore his fatigue, but it had been less than ten days since he had first gotten and used it with Antelokes, and so it could not be used just yet again.

For now he focused on drilling Cleon, working repeated actions into his body such that he would be able to react to them later appropriately. To his mind that was half of what training for combat was, experiencing a bunch of things such that when you saw it later it would not surprise you and you would have some idea of how to react properly. He always worked to improve, but more incrementally and by building upon past things than big sudden changes or crazy techniques. Likely though this said more about his teachers than him who had such styles and focus and broad interest.

As the training went on Moritz could see a slow improvement in Cleon, a gradual grasping better of the concepts he was trying to ingrain in him. A punch that he got hit by ten chimes ago he know blocked. Something he had earlier blocked he now managed to dodge. He still had a bit of trouble moving quickly, but then he did not have his acrobatics training... As he sent another blow at the man he considered what else he would need to know, how else he could hone him to be a better combatant. Perhaps some tumbles and things and other simple acrobatics?

As he sent out one kick though, a bit faster than the last time, he felt it connect and saw as Cleon tumbled to the ground. Another thing he needed to learn, how to properly fall. For now the man seemed to sort of flop like a sack of flour, rather than with much of any technique.

Moritz let the man rest and in turn did likewise, working to ease the stitch forming in his side and calm his breathing as he watched him. Only once he seemed ready and held up a hand did he reach down and pull the man up, giving him a few further moments to collect himself. However instead he seemed to be stretching, not a bad thing to do before a spar though a bit late at this point.

Rather than launching into more combat once the man was done Moritz walked a few paces over away from him and dropped his guard from his fighting position. Then faced diagonally to Cleon he displayed a simple tumble, a shoulder roll. The technique was simple enough, and Moritz did it slowly- which was actually harder than doing it at full speed- so that Cleon could see what to do.

From a standing position he began to move forward while also lowering himself. Tucking himself over he almost rolled his body and struck the sand with a shoulder. From here he kept up the roll using the shoulder as a contact point and literally turned head over heels to land his roll having turned all the way around such that he landed on his butt. From there he pushed up a bit and continued the roll, so that he popped up, and came to rest crouched on his feet. All he had to do then... Was pop back up to a standing position.

He then reversed this, sort of falling back and then inverting the roll. Going down to his rear, tumbling over, popping onto his shoulder to protect his head and neck, then tumbling over and popping off his shoulder land on his feet in another crouch... Which he then popped out of. Winded from his display Moritz made some vague motions with his hands that made no sense.

"Now... Make sure to land on your neck and head... Since there is nothing important there..."

With that he waited, giving Cleon the chance to try himself after having watched. Oddly enough Moritz found the backward roll was in truth easier than the forward roll, though he was unsure why that was.

WC: 949

[Cleon]

Cleon was a little confused by Moritz when he backed up and dropped his guard. Reflexively, Cleon did the same, allowing his arms to relax at his sides as he studied the young man thoughtfully. He moved with slow, deliberate patience as he did a tumble forwards, then backwards. When Moritz said something, he put it together that the man wanted him to try doing it himself, and avoid landing on his head in the process. He supposed the had to do with his little fall which he couldn’t really blame Moritz for pointing out. He was about as graceless as could be when it came to tumbling. Still, Moritz was watching, waiting for him to try and replicate it so with a sigh Cleon got down into a crouch.

Taking in a deep breath through his nose, he steeled himself for the tumble forward, and pressing his hands forward in the sand he slowly shifted his weight. Up. Up. Up, then he was trying to push off with his legs to rotate his body forward. For a tick it seemed like he was going to go forwards then instead his weight shifted to the side. He ended up rolling diagonally across the sand in a much less controlled tumble and came up sputtering sand. He found he didn’t much like having his head upside down for any length of time even for such a brief moment. For a tick he wondered if just avoid falling was a choice instead of learning how to tumble like this, but he was pretty sure of what sort of response Moritz would give to such a query.

Getting back on his haunches he tried instead to roll backwards this time. Holding onto the lower half of his legs, he swung his weight backwards, rolling onto his back then trying to dip onto one shoulder like he had seen Moritz do. He almost made it too, but didn’t have quite enough momentum to complete the roll and ended up tumbling sidelong again to flop belly first onto the sand. Cleon pulled himself to his feet with a frustrated sight, brushing the sand off of himself. All that rolling was starting to make him feel a little queasy and he held his stomach for a moment until the feeling passed.

“I don’t think rolling is such a good idea right now. Not in my state at least.” Cleon professed, feeling a little green now though that feeling soon passed once he was standing still for long enough. Replacing it was a dull throb behind his eyes, and a pinched feeling in his shoulder that he tried to ignore for now. “Its going to be a while before I can try that again. Maybe once after this curse is over with.” He breathed, hoping that there was some measure of truth to his words. There was still no clue or inkling that they were approaching a solution on such an account which was why he was training in the first place. Now he was realizing that if it came to a fight he would be sorely outmatched. He’d try to help of course, but he had serious doubts about how much that would measure to now that he was actually trying to defend himself while under the influence of this curse.

“Lets do a little more sparring before calling it an afternoon. I might have to call it sooner that I would have liked to.” He said, slowly finding his way back to the posture he had taken earlier. With both hands held in front of himself, he took in a deep breath and then stretched his right leg out for a moment as he prepared to kick with it. He needed to get a little more effort into using his legs more like Moritz if he was to grasp this sparring thing. To that end he stretched out both legs before he waded in with a few slow probing kicks while he kept his arms up to block. He wasn’t trying to knock Moritz down or anything like that, only getting acquainted with how it felt to strike in such a way with his full body. Trying to use it as Moritz had mentioned earlier, but the going was hard when he had a hard time taming his own mind. He stepped forward, and braced for Moritz’s counter.

WC - 733

[Moritz Craven]

It did not take long to see that Cleon did not seem overly taken with learning Acrobatics. Still, Moritz felt it was an important thing for a proficient fighter to know even if only at the basic level. How to avoid a hit, how to take a hit, how to fall, and how to roll, seemed the bare minimum. And so he had started him on one, but it seemed others would need to come later. If he could convince him to do so, which he was not certain.

Of course he felt from seeing himself fight Cleon might better understand why it was of use. But... Perhaps not.

His attempt was not bad, though neither was it good, but if nothing else it seemed like he was putting less vigor into it compared to when he was learning about punching things. Moritz knew though that there was much more to fighting than just being good at punching.

Watching, he saw Cleon crouch and sort of tumble, made a bit harder since they were on sand rather than a nice flat surface. Still even then he veered off on a new direction rather than rolling really. Less of a tumble and more of a splaying.

Letting out a half resolved sigh Moritz accepted his request of returning to the spar, not really feeling the man had put in a full effort but had at least done the bare minimum to count as having tried. Seeing his combat stance returning Moritz took on one of his own, feet spread like so, knees and elbows a bit bent, one arm up and one arm down at his side.

When Cleon moved then, coming in with some kicks, Moritz simply stepped back in a few quick motions to keep out of range, rather than directly getting involved. Kicks could be good if used in the right way, but they could also be tiring, and the more of such things the man did the more tired he would become.

Once the attacks missed Cleon seemed to brace himself, clearly expecting Moritz to counter and hit him and so tensing his body in defense. Not wanting to disappoint Moritz bounced a bit on his feet to keep limber, and dove in again. He aimed his left fist at the mans gut in a sudden punch, following that with a kick of his right leg at the back of the mans knee with an attempt to upset his footing. Then he would round that off with another punch, this time from his right hand, aimed at the mans hopefully exposed side if he did lose his footing. Unlike before he was not holding back on speed and iterating, instead he was going full speed right at once. Of course while his speed was full his force was still low and he held back on the strength of his blows to avoid hurting the man.

Still if he did manage to land his blows well they would smart quite a bit, and perhaps show him what would happen if he had been fully trying and committed the full strength to the attack.

WC: 525

[Cleon]

Cleon waded in with determination and got a few knocks for his effort. He’d managed to just barely block the gut punch, but couldn’t do much more than brace the knee that Moritz kicked into. The strike stung something fierce as he leaned away from the blow only to get grazed by Moritz’s next strike on his exposed side. It didn’t take him long to realize how little control he had over his environment and the fact that he had been saddled with more or less reactive plays as opposed to the proactive ones he always thought he could make when sparring. How naive.

Gritting his teeth, he took the blows in stride wading into them as he kept his guard up around his middle and face. Those where perhaps the only two areas that he feared getting hit, well besides the third that he didn’t expect Moritz to take. Though he supposed he wouldn’t have trouble guarding down there if he needed to, but that was distracting him from the point. He stopped trying to hit Moritz with his legs and went instead for windmilling his arms out wide so he could come at Moritz from the side. He didn’t know exactly why such a strategy appealed to him at the moment, but it just felt right as opposed to directly striking into the young man’s guard.

The effort had him panting as an ache appeared in his shoulders, and carried slightly down his back. His legs were also starting to get stiff from the punishment they had taken, light as it had been, and so his movement was somewhat less responsive than it had been earlier in their fight. Still Cleon pressed on, blocking what he could from Moritz’s counter blows, but more than a few slipped past his guard to nail him on his sides, or more often, legs which he had trouble guarding as well as he could his stomach and face. When it came time for him to strike, he tried to imagine what Moritz would do with his arms to block, and then think of a way to get around it but his thoughts were as thick and sluggish as his legs. His strikes were lacking the same energy, and were easily swatted aside even as he tried to curve them up past the man’s guard, or one time over handed in a strike he immediately regretted because he ended up off balance and sent to the ground at the next kick that came into the back of his leg.

He went sprawling, a sweating panting mess in the sand as he shambled to his knees only to linger there a moment on all fours as he caught his breath, watching the sweat stipple the sand underneath him as he forced on a smile. This was good, he knew it was supposed to be good, but all he could think about right now was catching that drink, and maybe a good smoke afterward. Preferably on the beach so he could catch sight of something pretty passing by. Cleon shook his head vigorously as if that would chase out the offending thoughts but it was no good. Once there, it was like a fly caught in amber, dangling in front of him until he sated the impulse. Cleon banged his fist into the sand.

“I wish you could tell me how long you have been training.” Cleon panted, pushing himself up so he was sitting up straight while resting on his knees in the sand. “At least then I could get a measure about how long I got until I get as good as you.” He looked over his shoulder to flash a grin at Moritz, then shrugged. There wasn’t anything to be done about it at any rate. They both had their burdens to bear, and Cleon could do without knowing the answer to that for now. Besides he had other pressing things on his mind. “I’m going to be feeling this in the morning. I don’t suppose Stu has a drink for that.” Cleon joked as he got to his feet, and wavered there for a moment, taking in a deep breath as he turned to face Moritz again.

WC - 706

[Moritz Craven]

As the spar continued Moritz felt the stitch in his side expand again, going from a prick to a hot bit of metal ramming in and bringing discomfort. With all of his exertions he was getting quite tired, something he seemed to have in common with Cleon.

Both of them were losing their edge, getting hit more, slowing down, and making moves that were not as clean. Even at his full speed he was not as fast as earlier in the spar, not as smooth. Still starting from a better state and more used to such exercise he seemed if nothing else to be doing better than Cleon. Not that such a thing was saying much.

He blocked his first blow coming in, but then lost to the knee strike. That left him open, as planned, for the next blow to come at his foes side. Still though he was holding back a bit and slowing down from fatigue, and so it was not so painful as such a hit could easily be. Still, he seemed to be doing a decent job at reacting to his attacks and had almost got out of the way of his last blow to his side. Almost, but not quite... Of course, if he was only reacting then it was already a sign - in a real battle- that something was going quite wrong.

Coming back at him the man then went wide with his blows rather than narrow, large spinning type attacks. While they were perhaps wild and unexpected they were also by their nature weaker, the nature of the attack meaning one could not really pivot or put their weight behind them. Moritz did not really both dodging these, simply letting them bounce off his guard and blocking them from hitting anything else. Well that and he was admittedly getting a bit tired, and they did not seem worth moving that much to react well to them. The blows stung a bit as they made impact, but not much more than that.

Aiming his own counters Moritz waited for an opening and swung in his punches and kicks, noticing the man focusing on defending his head and torso and sort of leaving the rest of his body open. Which, Moritz had to admit to himself, was a legitimate tactic. Sacrifice some pain and some blows to outer areas, to let one keep rested and counter at the opportune time. It was basically the same as a boxing strategy one of the Verusk woman had taught him, the dancing one.

When his blow to the leg sent Cleon into the sand he was unsure the man would get back up, but he was also himself panting quite heavily and trying to catch his breath. Even if he wanted to he did not have the vigor needed to press on.

At that point both of them were tired and bruised, and needed a good rest. Moritz was ready to flop on the ground somewhere... Perhaps after getting a nice drink of water... Regardless he did not see much merit in continuing this endeavor.

In the end though Cleon did regain his footing, but he looked like he was about ready to fall down again. He was not one to beat someone who was downed, nor someone ready to drop, and so looked over at the bar for a moment before returning his gaze to Cleon. In truth he had not really been training that long, nor did he think he was really all that good compared to anyone other than someone like Cleon who had no training at all. But then he was not really that old in general, only just recently having turned three on his birthday the first of spring, and so clearly had to have started some time after his birth.

"Fighting. I first picked it up from a traveling snake seller, a arctic swamp bear by the name of Tiffany. It was oh, a few centuries back. Traveling snake selling is quite a dangerous trade, always people wanting to steal your wares, so she was quite proficient in the furry claws. Or at least I think that is what it is called, I'm not really fluent in bear so I might be misquoting her."

WC: 713