Another's Burden [Solo]

[Lyner]

Day 1, Winter 511 AV Morning - Streets/The Akeldama Colosseum The air was cold and crisp and the gentle flakes of snow falling from the clouds was but a minor distraction that no real discomfort to the Syliran. He enjoyed exploring this beautiful city and its interesting and ever-changing layout. He reveled in the simple joy of walking like this, of having his feet firmly on a surface that didn't buck and sway to the whims of the sea. It was the simple things, like an open sky and firm ground that people usually overlooked. It was those same things that Lyner celebrated. He was enjoying a kebab when he bumped into a woman with unusually sharp ears and a temper that was just as odd. "Watch where you're going human." she growled, pointy canines showing. Lyner had seen his fair share of them in Sunberth. More than any other race they were least likely to be missed, they bred quickly and died just as fast. He honestly didn't feel like apologizing, he'd been walking fast enough, she was the one taking too much time to move. But a second look at the woman told him that there was good reason for her sluggishness. Her ankle was swelling and it looked as red as it was big. His gaze slowly moved up her slim frame and he could pick up bruises here and there. "I'm sorry okay." he scratched his head and retreated. But the girl was frustrated and she didn't look like she was going to let him off the hook yet. She wasn't going to be satisfied, not until she vented out what she could. "Weren't you watching where you were going human? Are you blind?" He scratched his head, this was an awkward spot. People were beginning to stare. "Hey, I'm sorry... I should have... But aren't you being a little too harsh?" "Ha! A human telling me that I'm harsh?" she laughed and her voice was shrill and hollow. "Your race's hypocrisy is staggering." The swordsman was starting to feel offended. He could understand that she'd probably been mistreated somehow, by a human but to take it to this level? "Hey, man... lady, I don't know what you've been through and it looks like you've endured quite a number... But I think if you have problems you can ask for-" "Help?" she dramatically threw her head back. "I did, I tried that. They told me it was my problem. Anything that happens outside this city isn't their problem." The swordsman could understand that. Whatever peacekeeping force this city had, it probably couldn't do much outside of it's domain. This was not Syliras that enjoyed the routine patrols of their beloved Syliran Knights. This was Kalea and they didn't have an order on the same league as that of the world's biggest city. Lyner rubbed his head and sighed. "People are starting to look, can we take a seat and talk." The kelvic looked around her and she noticed a lot of people staring. "Fine." They addled over to a nearby bench. Lyner sank into it and slouched forward. The girl sat on it but rested both her feet on the edge of the seat leaving her sandals dangling on the bench's side rail by their laces. The pair, man and kelvic looked at the crowd passing before them, at the ever changing nature of their position relative in the city. When they were both looking elsewhere, maybe at the sky or the ground the walls and buildings seemed to move and they would find themselves at a different place, in front of a different store, behind a new tree or beside another street lamp. Lyner remained quiet, he still had two more kebab to finish and he had his jug of water. Perhaps it was coincidence or the smell of his food, but minutes into their silent sitting and the kelvic's stomach growled. Lyner extended a hand, holding one of the kebabs towards the kelvic. "You can have one or the other." The kelvic reluctantly took the barbecue and bit into it. "I am sorry," she said, her mouth still bearing minced meat and onion. "My behavior was unwarranted human." "I had known a kelvic before, always moody. It's okay." he handed her his jug and didn't expect her to hold back when she snatched it from his palm. "What's your story?" "I was coming here with my bondmate from Sultros... but we had the misfortune to come across unruly men." the story was familiar, Lyner had been a victim of it himself. Ambush party probably, but he didn't say anything, he just allowed the kelvic to speak. It was probably therapeutic for her. "They attacked us and killed my bondmate, they raped me and left me for dead... well I didn't die." "Easy mistake to make. Most men think kelvic women are just women when stripped of their clothes." "I remember him, the man who killed my lover. A tall man, almost as tall as you. He has a long dark braided hair, a gray eye and bones piercing his hair like ornaments. Natbu, he calls himself. I followed his scent and I found him at a tavern... I stalked him but he vanished before I could catch up. Lost him in the magic of this city." "I hear you, happened to me earlier too." he didn't understand the magic of this city, but it seemed like a thief's haven more than a trickster's home. "But now I know where he is, he said he would be visiting this place, this Colosseum today. There I will kill him." Lyner's lips curled and he gazed down at the woman with an arched brow. "With your busted ankle?" "Do not underestimate me human, I have survived what most would have not." Lyner slapped his hands on his knees and groaned. "All the more reason you should know your limits. You have his name, you know he's in the city, you have to calm down and think of some other strategy." "You will not tell me to calm down human!" the kelvic was quickly, gracefully close their distance and she had the sharp edge of the kebab stick close to Lyner's neck. "I will get my revenge." "Whoa there, hold your horses." he gently pried away the stick from his neck and tossed it over his shoulder. "I don't think we're on the same page here. Look, I'm not trying to stop you, if you want your revenge you can have your revenge... All I'm saying is I don't think you're in any condition to fight. I mean... look at you." She looked at him darkly and stubbornly crossed her arms. "I am whole human." "But you're wounded. Can you even carry that sword you have on your back and move with it?" The kelvic remained silent, but the determination in her gaze would not fade. Lyner shook his head softly and looked at the clouds lazily sailing above. "But you're still going to go for it." "I do not know how long he will stay in this city. If I must strike, it must be now."

[Lyner]

Natbu was a half-breed traveler who made his money from regular bouts in the arena or looted merchants on the roads leading to Alvadas. He was skill in fighting they said, a real savage killer, an exile from Taloba who could not return to his homeland but couldn't shed it's trappings either. Lyner didn't really blame the man for what he did, the world was a cruel place where the fittest always came out on top. But he was a rare breed of bastard, the kind who had a kind heart. He couldn't allow the kelvic woman to march into her death. He had foolishly volunteered to fight the man on her behalf. Perhaps that was a mistake, but it was too late to turn back now. Fog rolled freely from his mouth and he inhaled a fresh gulp of Kalean air. He began to go through the motions, he jogged in place for minutes, he stretching his limbs, turned his torso from side to side as he folded his hands towards his head only to bring them as far away from his muscular frame as he could. When he felt his body warm up he spun his arms in revolution, turning them like windmills towards the front, then in reverse. The neck exercises followed shortly after, he brought his head side to side, to the rear and front until he wore away the the kinks. A series of fifteen squats, fifteen leg stretching procedures and a minute of fundamental footwork drills ended everything on a proper note. He felt ready now, his heart thrummed powerfully in his chest and the blood in his limbs made them warm and his torso. He could hear them screaming outside, their voices echoed in these halls and the gentle slope leading up to the sand covered ring. This should have all felt familiar, this kind of environment was home to him for three years and yet all Lyner could feel was a knot in his chest and the taste of tension in the air. Before he touched the light outside he squatted down, grabbing the sand spilling down into the path leading up the ring. He rubbed the hard grain on the pads of his fingers, on the palm of his hands to help absorb sweat and give his grip some extra traction. When they called his name and that of his opponents he marched forward into the field. His longsword unsheathed in his hand and his nasal helm snugly fitted upon his scalp, it's strap hugging his jaw firmly. He favored this helmet even if it only protected the crown and nose because it did not interfere with one's field of vision the way many other helmets did. It also helped that it was light enough that it wouldn't encumber him. The crowd seated around cheered loudly when his foe stepped into the sunlight, the echoes of their excitement reverberating across the large stone structure who's walls were going to be stained in more blood before long. How men could find joy in savage violence the Syliran didn't know and he long since stopped wondering why, he simply accepted it as fact, as a natural law that he and a handful of men were exempt of. All Lyner really cared about now was to get his business over and done with. Natbu was a tall man at six feet, his body was lean and sinewy and he worse almost no armor or clothes, even in this cool weather. His weapon of choice was a spear and his face was painted with white symbols that danced all the way down to half of his torso and arms. He looked at Lyner the way a hunter did it's prey, the half-myrian did not see a man, all he saw in the Syliran was prey. Ready to be reaped. The bell rang and he screamed, shouting and running with his spear poised to strike.

[Lyner]

Natbu may have been half-myrian but his spirit was as fierce as any true warrior of Taloba. He moved swiftly, feet dancing in unpredictable bursts and his control over his spear was phenomenal. Lyner could not approach the man, Natbu's thrusts were fast and unending. He fought like a cobra, intimidating his opponents, lulling them to relax with a brief moment of respite before striking. Thankfully the Slyiran was no stranger to the spear. He matched the half-myrian's foot work, dancing in tandem and retreating when the other advanced. His sword was a blur, rising and falling to keep up with the changes in the spear thrust trajectory but even his experience was not enough to keep track of the pole weapon. Every now and then Natbu changed his strategy, he may have looked like he was thrusting but he could change his footwork instantly, pivoting one foot to slam wood into Lyner's abdomen. The swordsman wasn't ignorant of this, often he could retreat or mount a sloppy but successful block... but his concentration failed him, Natbu changed his strategy and turned Lyner's sword into a pivot point. He used it to strike the swordsman's head. He helmet helped cushion the blow to his crown but boy did it hurt. Lyner wanted to curse, but that would have been a waste of breath. His battle training forced his body to ride through the pain and retreat. He was lucky, that the arc that spear traveled was small. If that had been a wider arc he would have been out for the count. His opponent knew that too. Natbu smirked and charged again. Lyner bought himself time, retreating and fighting defensively for awhile. That only served to earn the ire of the crowd but he didn't care. He wanted to win. Crowd pleasing would come if he won anyway and in the worse case scenario, he could decline his winnings to leave the place intact. Soon his head was clear as before and Natbu's irritation to reach Lyner had forced him to abandon slashing attacks in favor of thrusting attacks exclusively. Lyner was a cheating bastard, this was what he had been waiting for. Despite his almost respectable fighting style that he'd learned from a knight, he was prone to sudden bouts of trickery. He waited for a straight thrust, one just like the other, then he used his sword to parry it one-handed, but his vambrace on his free hand joined it. He had the half-myrian's spear locked... but not for too long. That was when he kicked sand into the other's eye. Natbu covered his eyes with one arm in time, Lyner had probably failed to do lasting impairment to Natbu's vision but that moment of distraction where the half-myrian had to shield his vision with one hand was what the swordsman had been expecting. Lyner dropped his sword, took hold of the half-myrian's spear shaft close to the blade to wrestle for control of it. Now Natbu was a strong big man but Lyner was taller by five inches and he had even wider shoulders and bigger biceps. The Syliran pulled forcefully in rapid spurts, he understood that pulling was always more efficient that pushing, an Isurian lesson on using weights for body building. Applying that here was helping him and he had even widened and lowered his stance in anticipation of a sudden push. They struggled for a bit but Natbu's resistance was futile. His weapon left him when Lyner suddenly changed his stance and put the power of his legs and hips to work. Unarmed Natbu however wasn't as unarmed as he looked. He had on him, tied to a sheathe on his bag a curved long dagger. Lyner's brows twisted into a knot. "Not going to make this easy huh?"

[Lyner]

The half-myrian was cautious, slowly circling around Lyner but the swordsman was cautious. He was thinking about the position of his sword, his distance and the length of this spear in his hand. The Syliran may not have known much about stick-fighting but he knew that it would hurt no matter how he hit Natbu if he could score a hit. He used the spear tip threateningly, keeping it trained at Natbu while he crept back a foot of a time, mindful of his steps so he would always have balance and the foundation to spring forward or take a jump back. He thrust the spear, not continuously as the half-myrian since he didn't possess Natbu's skill with this pole weapon, but he did it so rarely and only when the half-myrian advanced that it kept the Taloban on edge. When Lyner finally had his sword at his heel he didn't thrust towards Natbu with the intention to maim. He held it firmly, both hands far apart and took one advancing step, driving it forward... scaring the half-myrian and then his plan became clear a second later. The point fell in a sharp angle that caused it to be buried at least a half a foot into the soil. That was when he kicked sand towards Natbu again and he ducked down to pick up his sword and assume the fool's guard with it. Lyner only wanted to deprive his foe of his spear, it would take a bit of time and effort to take that thing now. He had little familiarity with polearm weapons that he wouldn't dare to use his opponent's weapon against him, he was more comfortable with his trusty longsword and it's familiar weight. He relaxed his muscles, preparing them for the moment when he had to swing them and he did not stray away from the spear. He wanted to see if the half-myrian could resist the temptation to reclaim his primary weapon or if he had enough confidence in his long knife... which would be a bad omen for the swordsman. And so they circled each other, Lyner with his attention solely on his foe and Natbu with his eyes dancing between the Syliran and the spear impaled into the soil. The crowds were getting angry at the stalemate and their cautious duel, someone was going to have to move. Lyner was the first to initiate combat. He stepped forward, swinging his weapon in small controlled slashes with a hand close to the guard and the other near the pommel to create great leverage. In many ways he fought like a spearman, using his blade's range to his advantage... but he knew that a small cut could kill as easily as a large gash. Natbu was also aware of it, he did not move hastily, but he did try to keep Lyner attacking fiercely... but he was failing. Lyner was a patience fencer. He was no war mongerer, he was the kind of opponent seasoned duelists hated. An observant, patient and disciplined man. Natbu wasn't. He threw his dagger suddenly and Lyner barely found time to react. He raised his sword to deflect the thing and when he brought his guard back into neutral position he quickly saw soil soaring into the air. Natbu had recovered his spear, dirt clung across the blade's edge but it looked as deadly as ever.

[Lyner]

Now this wasn't good. The fruits of his efforts had practically slipped from his grasp. Lyner was back at square one, they are faced off again as equals... or not. The half-myrian was now taking the swordsman seriously. That was a bit of a disadvantage. The spearman charged first, his reach permitting him to begin the onslaught with the same rapid series of attacks. He used one hand to secure the weapon but not restrain it and the other behind the first to piston that pole arm back and forth. Lyner's sword danced again in his hands while his feet slid in synchronized retreat with his opponent's own advances. He did not completely try to resist the force of his opponent's spear, he merely diffused it and he parried only when the strikes were dangerously close to his body. A defensive game. He had to play the patient predator. Natbu was an impatient man, the longer the fight lasted the better the chances that the spearman would make a key mistake that the Syliran could use to his advantage. Lyner swayed and changed his stance yet again as he kept changing his grip to accommodate the kind of parry he had to perform. The spear could penetrate through his guard and exploit any lapse in his concentration, Lyner had to keep his eyes open and allow his blade to constantly stay in the center-line where it could react to any swift changes in angle and depth of penetration. The change he was counting on came in a rapid down-thrust that pretended to be a straight one aimed at the heart but was really meant to strike something lower. No fighter worth his salt would really attack the ribs if there was no other option and Natbu was an experienced warrior. There was a reason behind this madness and Lyner saw where the spear was posed to fall. It didn't matter now what the means the spearman would use to reach the Syliran's legs were, but that was the target and as long as Lyner knew what his enemy was after he could plan accordingly. The Syliran reacted in time to the coming attack with remarkable timing. He lifted his leg out of the way of a thrust, narrowly avoiding the stroke that could have doomed him. While the moment of the attack was still bringing Natbu forward Lyner swung his longsword in a rising arch that caught the spear between the blade and guard. A weapon-lock. He was deliberately going for a contest of raw power. He dashed in, a foot in the sand with both arms raised above, occupied with the task of restraining the spear. Then he lashed out with a front-push kick. A weak attack, but swift and surprising. The kick destroyed Natbu's balance, hitting his navel and taking away air from his chest. While the half-myrian was still trying to recover from the tears filling his eyes and the natural instinct that was making him breath in and hard Lyner was already upon him. The swordsman walked forward, dragging the blade of his longsword against the shaft of the spear cutting wood and later... flesh. He had cut a few fingers in his dash and he continued sliding his weapon somewhere with intent... Blood, hot and rich flowed freely when the Syliran rammed his sword's cross guard in the opponent's neck by applying force with one hand on the hilt and a vambraced forearm to apply pressure on a second front. The half-myrian tried to struggle but Lyner slammed his knee into the dying body of the spearman. Lyner wasn't a man who would take this chances with fate. He had tempted it one too many times before.

[Lyner]

Death came swiftly for the half-myrian. Blood would fill the man's lungs and Lyner would compound Natbu's inevitable demise with a twist of his chin beyond the axis that his head could rotate. It was his final mercy, the half-myrian may have been a cruel man but he was not a coward and Lyner would not subject him through a painfully long death. This was not his crucible, this was another person's battle... like all the others he had fought. The crowd wasn't pleased with the end of the battle, it's conclusion had finished far too quickly... but fights rarely lasted that long. Men did not have such stamina and theatrics were only fit for the stage. He flicked the blood off his weapon and tore a part of Natbu's shirt so he could wipe off the blood on his crossguard on it. Around him there was some discontent, but money were exchanging hands and enough people looked pleased at the result of the fight. There would be no punishment for him, his performance was lackluster but there had been money made. That was enough, people could not complain. He walked towards the exit and one of the event organizers tossed a few coins at his feet. Four of them. Shiny golden discs. He rubbed them on his pants and deposited them in his pockets. "Thank you sir." he barked happily. There was no sense in biting he hand that fed you, not if there was everything to lose. At the path leading to the exit the kelvic woman he had fought this duel for was leaning against ancient stone, her face downcast and burned with emotions the swordsman couldn't read. "I... thank you. It was not the revenge I was looking for, but I would never have been able to get it on my own." "Revenge is revenge. Even served lukewarm." Lyner calmly told her. "You did what you could..." she looked uncomfortable and crossed her arms across her breasts. "Do you still want to be repaid? I do not have many abilities but I am attractive." Lyner massaged his shoulders and sighed. He took of his helmet and shook his head softly. "You're beautiful in your own way, but I'm not that kind of man. Go with peace." The kelvic did, she bowed one last time and she was quickly gone from his sight. Her slim form shadow vanishing in the light outside of the colosseum. Lyner smiled, his pockets was slightly heavier and he had done a good deed. He had fought for someone else, but this time it was not for someone's greed and his hands hand't been forced by a collar around his neck. Lyner was about to follow the girl's foosteps when he heard the clamor of metal and heavy footsteps at his back. He dropped his helmet, placed a hand on the grip of his sword and turned around expecting cut-throats. There was only an old man, well dressed with graying hair who was accompanied by a younger one with stocky features wearing a chainmail and bearing a sword much like Lyner's in his hand. The old man placed a hand on his guardsman's hand and urged the guard to sheathe his blade. "You fight well boy." Lyner relaxed, but he still hadn't taken his hand off his weapon. "I try." "I couldn't help but overhear your exchange... it was... interesting m'boy." the man was waiting for an explanation, he wasn't moving from where he stood even though Lyner was refusing to say more. Lyner's patience was the one to give out first, he'd been through enough in the last few hours to have a contest of wills. "The man I killed raped her. I did her a favor." "But you did not claim a reward." the man came closer, his cane making a sound that echoed in the stone arched hallway that was illuminated only by the sunlight outside. Lyner did not understand where this conversation was leading to, but since he'd told the stranger so much lying at this point would be fruitless. "I don't enjoy forcing myself on women. She may have told me she was willing but her eyes were telling me a different story." "A noble quality." the man stood before him, unarmed save for his walking cane. This man was not afraid of Lyner and it was this act of faith that made the Syliran release his hand on his sword. "Tell me, are you new to these parts." "...Yes." "Are you employed?" Lyner found the question too east to answer. "No." "I am looking for men like you. Trust worthy men with a good sword arm. I have a child who gets into trouble frequently... my child needs protection but I cannot trust just any sell sword. You have shown qualities that I desire in a guardsman. I am offering you a chance at employment. Five gold-rimmed miza a day, you may take residence with my servants and dine with them. It is not glamorous work but it is an honest job." the man was holding Lyner's sword arm with both skinny hands and was squeezing them tightly. "What do you say?" The offer wasn't the best he'd heard but the work was honest. He could live with a simple arrangement that put food on his table and a solid roof over his head. Lyner smiled and shook the man's hand eagerly. "When can I start master?" The old man laughed heartily.

[Macabre]

Thread Complete!
“Unbelievable. You, [subject name here], must be the pride of [subject hometown here].”

Lyner
XP: Long sword 5, Bodybuilding 3, Spear 1, Brawling 1, Persuasion 1,
Lore: Warm-up Techniques, Disarming a Spear, Dirty Tactics With Sand, Syliran Honor

Notes: Guest grading for Bedlam. Well-written! Your pacing is great, the NPC interaction was believable, and you wrote a good fight that wasn’t over in a few paragraphs, and tested your character’s skill as a fighter. I noticed that your employment has already been talked over with Fallacy; it is not in my jurisdiction to award it in-thread. If you have any questions or concerns, feel free to PM me.