Earning Your Stripes [Siiri]

[Ataraxia]

Tanjit's attack had been foiled, and Siiri had managed to initiate a somewhat interesting counterattack. She felt her glaive shift, pushed away by the heft of Siiri's greatsword. Motion lit up her senses, Siiri's sidestepping kick maneuver presenting itself as an opportunity. As Siiri maneuvered her blade to intercept the spiked end of Tanjit's glaive, she pulled the massive weapon free of the weapon's clash the instant it occurred. She lifted her glaive high above her head, spinning it completely and positioning it on the side that Siiri was now attacking from with her intended strike to Tanjit's knees. It was a brilliant display, but it was not Tanjit's attention to showboat. The nature of her weapon required motion such as this, dramatic as it may be. Siiri's incoming kick was powerful, and carried much force. This force was met however, by the newly positioned glaive. It was not the butt end, but the much more fierce two pronged side that made it's debut. The polearm swept upwards, the area just below the blades striking the underside of Siiri's leg and bringing it upwards. Siiri would lose her balance, no doubt landing flat on her back. Any attempt to fight back from the ground with Slayer would be difficult, as the final motion of Tanjit's intricate spear attacked seemed to be bringing the weapon down and thrusting it's two pronged tip towards the massive blade. Tanjit's plan would become clear to Siiri; she was trying to separate her from her blade. If she managed to get a hold of Slayer she would twist and yank the blade away, sending it tumbling away. If she failed, she would no doubt bring her glaive back for a defensive reaction. For all the effort it took, Tanjit had never lost sight of her opponent's heavy stare.

[Siiri]

Siiri knew underestimated the speed of her opponent as soon as she had deflected the initial attack. Like a bolt of lightning, Tanjit's glaive flashed and twirled, spinning it faster than Siiri had thought possible and positioning it so perfectly as to block her counter attack, even applying leverage on it to turn it into a counter of her own. Siiri was off-balanced as Tanjit swept the pronged end of her weapon up. It was fortunate that she had delivered her kick from the side rather than in the traditional, frontal way, or else she would have landed flat on her back, prone and vulnerable.

As such, Siiri was able to tumble the opposite way, allowing herself to be pushed away by the force of the other woman's return strike. Riding the momentum, she used her sword hand to do a sort of awkward cartwheel to dodge away from any potential follow up attack, slapping her palm on the floor, the hilt of her sword between them. It wasn't the most graceful of moves, and it brought her out of range of Tanjit as well, but at least her weapon was still with her, having closed her fingers around it once more just as she rolled to her feet and into a crouch. Her attack may have been foiled but the exchange wasn't a complete loss; it revealed to her that, just like with any other spear-type of weapon, her opponent needed a lot of space to work with her glaive (even much more than she herself needed with her greatsword), otherwise she would just be confined to where the two ends of her weapon were pointing at and nothing but a shaft of wood between them. Siiri was well-known for her disdain of such weapons, thinking them very limited in terms of angles of attacks. She had even gone so far as to shear off the heads of spears and polearms during sparring sessions to prove her point. Briefly, she wondered if that was the reason behind her choice of opponent.

A test of humility, to put me in my place?

She did not dwell on it too long however, never allowing herself to be distracted from the fight. In one fluid movement, Siiri pulled out two of her throwing daggers from her belt and, her eyes still on Tanjit, hurled them in quick succession, the first aimed at the other woman's torso, the other one to her head. These were not meant to distract but to wound, perhaps even severely if the pointed ends connected. Having never taken her gaze off the other, Siiri had been lining up the shots the whole time.

She doubted she would even miss.*

It was fighting dirty, but the whole point of the battle was to win, regardless on how she did it. Not even waiting to see if the projectiles would hit, Siiri was on her feet again and charging, Slayer lined up for a heavy swing on the weakest part of Tanjit's weapon - the midpoint of her glaive's shaft. Her strategy hasn't changed much; she still intended to limit her opponent's range no matter what while delivering her own powerful blows.

Secret :

* - Siiri has like 3 in Throwing Daggers but she never has a lack of confidence in her abilities. XD

[Ataraxia]

Tanjit's frustration mounted at Siiri's elusiveness. In a matter of seconds, Siiri had gone from defense to offense. Two knives were thrown, rather haphazardly... but Tanjit spun away from the attack none the less. Her body leaned back and twisted, avoiding the knife aimed higher first, and spinning away from the second a second later. Damn throwing knives. It was only one step above cowardly, but it was an effective ruse. Effective enough for Tanjit to be caught slightly off guard by Siiri's advance, still holding her glaive out and perpendicular to her body. The sound of Slayer slicing clean through the wooden shaft would probably sound sweet in Siiri's ears. Tanjit seemed wholly unphased. Slayer continued it's downward trajectory, and to Siiri's surprise the destruction of her preferred weapon seemed to have done little to thwart her creativity in the art of war. Her hands were a whirlwind of motion, spinning the now split in two glaive so that the pointed ends on each respective piece were pointed inward. Tanjit thrust the pronged end down, effectively catching the thick blade of Slayer in it's maw, and twisting and turning her hand as she did so. The result would be a quick jerk in Siiri's blade, probably not too terribly hard to handle... Save the fact that as Tanjit began to twist, she also thrust the edged tip of the other half of her broken glaive towards Siiri's hand, angling her strike so as to avoid the handguard. Because of the odd angle the strike lacked a lot of force, but it was quick... and if Siiri didn't realize what was transpiring, the blade could slice into one of her hands. Siiri would have to either try to maneuver her way out of the trap, or relinquish her blade in order to save her hands from injury.

[Siiri]

Siiri cursed at her opponent's inventiveness. She had expected Tanjit to fall back and regroup after the destruction of the glaive, but instead the woman used the broken pieces as two separate weapons. Not only that, she had also trapped Siiri's own greatsword with the pronged half while simultaneously attacking with the other half, stabbing at her hands with its pointed end.

She wants me to give up Slayer, she thought. A frown creased her brow at the realization. Not going to happen.

Relinquishing her grip on her weapon's hilt with the hand most likely to get shredded by Tanjit's weapon, Siiri allowed the prongs to maintain its hold on her blade, twisting it with her remaining hand so that the steel edges of her weapon would bite on the tskanna tusk, effectively locking their weapons together. That nullified movement of their respective arms - Siiri's right and Tanjit's left - leaving them useless until one of them twisted their weapon free to break the impasse. Siiri's free hand she dropped to unsheath one of the serrated daggers bound at her thighs, those she used in close range combat because of their longer and sturdier blades, pulling it up in an underhand grip to intercept the other end of Tanjit's broken weapon.

With both her arm otherwise preoccupied staving away Tanjit's attacks, Siiri tensed and snapped a leg out into a front kick, her heel aimed at the shorter woman's jaw.

[Ataraxia]

Siiri's stubborn refusal to relinquish control of her weapon was bothersome, but Tanjit had little time to seethe over his opponent's guile. As her arms thrust forward in motion, each was met by a whirlwind of activity on Siiri's part. It was one of those brief flashes in time that was hard to follow visually, the motions of the two women sending each back to the drawing board. But, as Tanjit's adrenaline laced mind began to absorb Siiri's movements and formulate her next tactic, she caught the tiny ripples of movements in her body that expanded outward into a tsunami at her feet. Siiri's leg was rising rapidly, a brutish kick that likely would have caused Tanjit to bite her own tongue off. Would have, save Tanjit's own skill. Siiri's arms had been occupied, and perhaps that was the reason for the lack of speed and momentum behind the attack that Tanjit would have expected. Either way, it was easy enough for Tanjit to simple release her hold on the shattered glaive and rear her body back. Her left leg slide backwards as her torso bent, the well muscled calves of her opponent filling her vision as her foot sailed just out of reach of her face. Tanjit did not waste time. Her body exploded forward, pushing hard with her grounded right leg and lashing out with both arms at the same time. She caught Siiri with both hands; by the ankle and by the meaty muscle beneath her shin. She pushed Siiri's leg up higher than her opponent would have anticipated it ever going, and with a certain measure of viciousness she pushed the leg forward once it reached it's apex. The result was Siiri's total loss of balance. She slammed hard on the mat, landing square on her back and likely knocking the wind out of her. Tanjit's own body dropped into a crouch, each hand finding the battleworn hilt of the kukri blades sheathed aside her boots. The grainy sound of steel against leather signaled their release, and Tanjit lunged forward to get atop Siiri. Siiiri was bigger, but Tanjit had no recourse. Her weapon of choice was lost along with it's range advantage. Her knives would do her no good unless she was inside the effective range of Siiri's sword. Thus, she meant to mount her opponent. She would not fight on Siiri's terms.

[Siiri]

As soon as she had lashed out with her leg, Siiri realized she had executed a similar move earlier and her experienced opponent was sure to capitalize on it. Next thing she knew, she was lying on the floor, her weapon jarred out of her grasp upon impact and Tanjit flying over her with knives bared and ready to mount her.

For a split second, Siiri considered kicking her legs up to try and hit the other woman's chin or at least catapult her over her body to avoid the dangerous-looking kukris. But Tanjit could easily adjust her grip on them and slash at her calves - Siiri herself would had their situations been reversed. Such light wounds had been known to happen even in informal sparring matches and were not frowned upon. Myrians were taught to avoid damage if they did not want to bleed, after all.

The only thing that would halt Tanjit's hand would be if she were about to deal a fatal blow. And so it was for Siiri. Every Myrian knew if their strike were true and were known to be able to stay their blades even during a heated bout. Such was the precision granted to them by Myri's mark.

In a heartbeat, Siiri reached to her hips to pull out her twin daggers, angling them in place to intercept the kukris. Unlike the pair she had hurled earlier, these were much larger and sturdier, with serrated blades meant to inflict the maximum amount of damage and pain on her adversaries. A cut from one was not likely to close properly unless treated by a healer. At the second, as Tanjit landed on top of her but before their respective weapons made contact, Siiri shifted her daggers away and left her chest, neck and head exposed. Had it been a real fight, she would have probably ended up with her throat slit or heart stabbed.

But not before she shredded her opponent's armpits open with her perfectly positioned blades. She pondered that they would probably bleed to death at the same time from their wounds.

Siiri's emerald eyes, boring into her opponent's hazel ones, spoke of the inevitability of their positions. She realized she could not beat the superior fighter, not by a long shot. So she settled for the next best thing.

"Stalemate," she said.

[Cayenne]

“Stalemate,” Tanjit agreed, her body frozen in place with a blade against Siiri’s throat and the other positioned with the point against her chest. Her balance was superb, considering the blades that would were positioned under her arms. But both Myrians knew that for all their savage, ferocious fighting, control was crucial and extremely stressed in their battles. It was all well and good to be able to gut your fellow Myrian, but when you needed every capable body on hand, it was counterproductive to thin the numbers when you were trying to grow them. The sturdy woman rocked backwards, lifting her arms over Siiri’s blades. Her kukris went back into their sheaths at her boots and she stood up, reaching to help Siiri to her feet with surprising ease.

Tanjit lowered her head in reverence to Myri, a fist over her heart before offering the same to Siiri, albeit with slightly less of a nod. It had been a good match. Siiri had given Tanjit a good run, and Tanjit had given Siiri a chance to showcase her abilities and just what she was made of. She clasped the warrior’s forearm and pulled her in close, giving her a thump on the back. “Well done,” Tanjit whispered to Siiri with a wink before pulling away and gathering the broken pieces of her glaive, flexing them experimentally in her two hands. What had been a weapon held in one hand was now in two pieces, and Tanjit doubted it could be fixed. But she’d take it to the weaponsmasters and see what all could be done for it. She glanced at Myri for permission to leave, and the Goddess nodded slightly. The woman bowed to the Council members who had attended, Misha leaning over to whisper to Zola of the Broken Spear, who nodded her head slightly, and then shook it at Misha’s next inquiry. Their eyes, like those of the other spectators, had never left the combatants.

The goddess had paid rapt attention to the fight from her position on the throne of bones, leaning forward, her elbows on her knees, fingers loosely interlaced. She looked as mortal as the rest of them, then, ageless though she now was, habits from over centuries of being amongst her people and continuing as she had. Her eyes followed every move – she didn’t say anything while they were fighting, gave no indication of any support to either fighter… but then, she didn’t have to. Siiri and Tanjit were her people. They were both Myrians – she favoured neither over another. What this was was a test – a test that all Myrians sought to pass, and a test that their people, too, wanted them to pass. Failure to do so was always fatal, for their weaker skills would not protect them in the wilderness around them. When Siiri finally spoke from her prone position, and Tanjit repeated her, and helped her up, Myri stood up at long last. “A stalemate… Well done, my daughters… both of you. Thank you, Tanjit. Go see about getting your weapon fixed,” she nodded her head at the warrior, who bowed and clasped her fist over her heart before saluting in a similar fashion to the Council before striding out of the room, the broken glaive in hand… not without a sly wink to Siiri as she strode out of the palace.

“Your first trial is complete,” Myri turned her attention back to the young woman, smiling at her. “You have done well, Siiri of the Snapping Jaws. You remember the next step, I’m sure. The gauntlet… and the hunt,” the hunt was always led by the gauntlet. Recognizing traps was a crucial survival skill in Falyndar, and Myrian scouts were experts at them – but the Dhani, too, were cunning, and were not above traps to try to outwit and snare a numerically superior hostile force. Siiri would have to avoid these traps in order to carry on with the hunt, and hopefully bag something worthy of passing the trials with. The hardest part was never knowing when and where they were coming… but that was life, was it not? "Have you any questions before you proceed?" If she wanted to talk to the Goddess-Queen, now was her chance.

[Siiri]

Siiri accepted the proffered hand, as well as the sisterly embrace, from Tanjit, taking the congratulatory gesture in stride. She could not help but wince in perceived pain as the other warrior picked up the shattered pieces of her once magnificent weapon. No doubt the glaive had been a family heirloom, the dense tskanna tusk it was crafted from standing the test of time, only to be smashed in two by the steel edge of the powerfully swung Slayer. The Snapping Jaws warrior wondered if her Aunt Shara had ever done the same to those who sparred against her. That thought led her eyes to Myri just as the Goddess-Queen spoke. Amongst everyone in the hall, only She could ever find out the answer to the question that had flashed briefly in Siiri's mind. And as if reading her mind, Myri wanted to know if the warrior that stood before Her had anything to ask.

A million, Siiri wanted to say, and it was true. How was Aunt Shara? Would she ever see her reincarnated in this lifetime? Would the efforts she poured into this endeavor be enough to prove her worth to her mother? Could She make her mother take her sister Tala as the heir to the clan instead of her? If she proved successful in her Trials, would it bring her closer to being numbered among the city's elite warriors and thus be given the chance to serve the Goddess-Queen once she had passed from her mortal coil?

These, and others, some of them the Council might consider irreverent and would no doubt net her a smack on the head from her mother and matriarch, flooded Siiri's mind but she did not break the dam and allowed them to flow out from her lips. Her gaze flickered to Ehra, wondering once again what the elder Snapping Jaws thought to her taking the Tiger Trials. Failure to pass it meant death for Siiri, depriving her mother of her chosen heir to the matriachship of their clan. Siiri dismissed it; she was not here for Ehra, or for anyone else. She was here for herself. She wanted the challenge. She needed it.

"Thank you for your words, my Goddess-Queen," she said, bowing to Myri in the same fashion Tanjit did. "I wish I could have done better."

Straightening up once more, she shifted, not in discomfort, but in eagerness and anticipation. Myri was watching; she wanted to showcase everything she's got to Her.

"I have no questions for now. Any I want to ask I will do so if - when - I succeed in the Trials and have proven my worth enough to ask them."

Siiri lapsed into silence, eager for the next phase of the tests to begin.

[Cayenne]

Myri did indeed catch the deliberate phrasing, and grinned at the warrioress in front of her. For anyone of another race, that would have been enough to make them twitch, because that was unnerving in itself. But Siiri knew, deep in her heart, why the Goddess-Queen was grinning like that. She remembered being mortal. She remembered these trials. Myri, Goddess or not, loved the thrill of the challenge that each Myrian had when they set out on a journey outside of Taloba, and particularly for their Coming of Age and for those who dared attempt it, the Tiger Trials. There was a purpose there, a thirst, a true determination, to prove themselves, to put all their training and work into use... to show that they were worthy of their family name, of the raised scars that showed Myri's marks, of working with the giant Myrian Tigers that were more partner and ally than mere mounts.

Her people made her proud.

"May your ancestors walk with you, Siiri. Know that they watch you and they are proud of what you have accomplished thus far. But they expect more. Demand more... they demand more because they know... as I know... that it is in you," Myri nodded to her. "Your next trial begins tomorrow. Eat. Rest up. Pack what you need... and you'll know what it is," the Goddess was bumped by her massive Tigress, who studied Siiri rather intently as she shoved against her rider, who held fast despite the monstrous cat's strength. It was unnerving - almost the same glance that the old tiger in the temple had looked at her with, and this time it was slightly more alarming, like Navre himself was watching her. That Tigress had been with Myri ever since Siiri could remember. Some claimed that that Tigress was the very first of the Myrian tigers, and was as old as Myri herself. She might well be - each and every one of the Elders would swear up and down that every story, every legend and myth involving their Goddess-Queen involved a massive, dark-furred Tigress who was as ferocious and vicious as the Usurper. Some claimed it was Navre - hiding in plain sight amongst the Myrians who were honored with their close relationships with the giant cats.

The way that she was looking at Siiri? The warrior could definitely believe that the last story had at least some ring of truth to it. "I will see you when you conclude your hunt, Siiri... and bring your prize held high through the gates once more. I look forward to seeing what you bring back this time. Good hunting!" The Goddess-Queen nodded once more with a particular finality that meant dismissal. She, and the rest of the onlookers, were free to go, although the Council stayed behind, as one might well have expected them to do. The warriors thumped their weapons at her as she passed in both encouragement and respect. Kash'jiya pushed herself off of the wall from where she had been watching with Iami by the doorway, and Siiri had no doubt that Ehra was coming along behind her, no doubt wanting to discuss every thrust of Slayer, every grapple, every hold...

But her sponsor and Iami was there first, and she clapped Siiri on the back, grinning at her. "Easy as falling on your ass, no?" The animosity, for lack of a better word, between mother and daughter wasn't the best-kept secret in the city, after all.

[Siiri]

Siiri practically glowed from the Goddess-Queen's words, choosing to take them at face value and as a compliment, though she perfectly understood the challenge behind them as well. But if Myri her capable and believed in her abilities, then surely she must be doing quite well in the Trials so far. One look from the deity's enormous mount - larger than the other Tigers already partnered to the other Riders - brought everything back into perspective for the Snapping Jaws warrior, however. The Trials may showcase her skill to the Goddess-Queen and prove that her sponsors had not erred in accepting her as a candidate to attempt to earn her stripes, but it ultimately lay on Navre, who was rumored be Myri's mount in disguise, grant her the privilege of gaining a companion in the form of one of his gigantic cats. Siiri bowed in reverence to the massive beast upon the conclusion of its inspection of her, determined now more than ever to succeed.

Myri herself issued a dismissal after a few reminders of what to expect in the Trials - and what She was expecting from Siiri. The Myrian bowed in acknowledgment, after executing the familiar fist to heart salute. She felt giddy and light-headed as she moved off towards the exit, hardly feeling the thump on the back given to her by the leatherworker Iami. Her sponsor, Kash'jiya, joined the older woman in escorting her out of the temple.

"I - yes. I didn't expect the first part to be over so quickly," Siiri admitted. After the initial rush of battle and the pleasure of showcasing her skills in front of the council and the Goddess-Queen herself, the warrioress felt it all ended too fast. She had the look of someone who woke up abruptly from a dream, her eyes flitting about as if she was expecting something or someone to jump out at her to resume the fight.

"I suppose I should prepare for tomorrow," she said at length, thinking back to Myri's parting words. The Goddess-Queen said she would know what she should bring, but in all honesty, Siiri had no idea what those things should be. She thought she only had to bring her weapons, herself, and her will to succeed, and she would work from there. Perhaps too proud, or just confident in her abilities, Siiri had not even thought to ask Iami for tips, or consult Kash'jiya, who had already gone through the same Trials she was going through. All she knew was that whatever they would throw at her on the morrow, whatever beast she had to hunt, she would be prepared to deal with.