[Kendoka Sasaran] Kindred (Riaris)

[Razkar]

3rd Day of Winter, 512AV

Razkar would always be drawn to fighting, mortal or otherwise, and so it was not unusual that many times he found himself walking by the Kendoka Sasaran. Most of his time was spent at outside the walls. Sparring, hunting, eating, even mediating and writing. He did not socialize much. But those times he did venture into the city - for feed or supplies or just for the novelty - his path always and inexplicably led him to the cobblestones outside the training hall.

He would hear the shouts and barks of orders and wounded, striking combatants. The heavy and high thwack of wood on wood. Feel the unmistakable aura of physical contest, however bloodless it tried to be. To a true child of Myri, the atmosphere was irresistible.

So he always found himself opening the doors. Just like this day.

Wide were flung the double doors and bright, cold sunlight filled the room anew. The blue skies were cloudless outside and deceptively so: it meant that there was little protection or buffer from the breezing winds that were whipping Riverfall like a stray slave. The Myrian wore his "usual": leather breeches and shoes over his loincloth, cotton shirt and his cloak of sewn scalps that fell down to his knees. Tattoos and piercings gouged and painted much of his exposed flesh, and he walked quickly... then slowed.

His (nominal) master was approaching.

"The cold does not favor you, I trust?"

Mizra Aqdas's eyes sparkled with mirth as Razkar snorted, giving him a wry half-smile. The Akalak was more than just a teacher and philosopher here: he was one of, if not the, most accomplished warrior in Riverfall. Over two centuries and countless thousands of duels and battles, he had only been defeated a handful of times. But now his mind and body were dedicated to a new and even more powerful enemy: ignorance.

"I have to wear so many clothes." Razkar said with a grimace, scratching at his itchy shirt. "Too much. Is not... natural."

"To each time and place, a season and a people."

"Yes. But come to spar, not... er..."

"Philosophize?"

"Yes, I think is word."

Mizra "hmm-ed" and looked around the busy training hall. The mats were covered in sparring men and women and... whatever, from a half-dozen races. Razkar even saw a many-armed Eypharian hacking and slashing away in a blur with her training weapons, fighting three enemies at once. He had to blink a few times just to convince himself it was real.

"Everyone is occupied as of the moment... what are you looking to train in today?"

"Sword. Ax." Razkar replied, touched each weapon on his belt instinctively. "Just wanting practice. Is no-one?"

"I'm sure we can make do, Razkar."

As it happened, the answer walked in the door a moment later.

[Riaris Dovukalis]

It was early winter and the cool of the fall had given way to the frost tips of the icy winters breeze. Although it was just beginning and the true cold had yet to arrive, most of the city were already adjusting their attire to suit the current needs. Rirais wasn't as bothered by the cold, it seemed somewhat suited to the bulky Akalak, leaving him to only dress in simple clothing and boots. He left his home then, after his usual exercise and preparation for the day ahead. Riars didn't have work in the shipyard on this day, and his work with the Kuvay'Nas wouldn't begin until later that day, which left him with time to train. Training was important to many Akalak, but even more so to those like Riaris, whom it seemed were born warriors. He decided to get in a workout in the Kendoka Sasaran. The Akalak visited the place often, and although he chose to train alone at times, he also enjoyed dueling others. Just as he left, a voice called out to him, one that was as gentle as it was loud. It was his younger sister Nanali. In recent seasons, Riaris had taken it upon himself to see after the combat training of his sister. He was close to her, and believed that he understood his sister's souls far better than most, which made him better suited to teach the young Akontak. Like Akalaks, Akontaks also shared a duel soul, and being that Riaris shared as much of a rivalry as a bond with Recoomas, he imagined that he could also help his sister to to create the same with her darker sister. "Yes Nanali?" He asked simply, while glancing over his right shoulder. From his angled view, he could see that the girl's arms were folded and her features wrinkled into a frown. "I want to come along." she demanded, looking up at the much taller man and speaking in a serious tone. "I thought that we were clear on this Nanali? Did you forget? I will see to your training from now on, you need no other." The girl smiled, already assuming that he would make such a claim and was ready with a retort. "Unless you mean training in patience, I'd say you are doing a sad job." Riaris, arched a brow, and turned his body so that he could look upon her. He stiffed a chuckle as he realized that it was Johan that he was speaking to instead of Nanali. "For a moment you almost sounded just like her. Given that fact I'd say that my..methods are working well enough." Johan arched a brow of her own, while turning up her lip as she tried to make sense of her brother's cryptic words. "Fine, as you wish Johan." Riaris spoke up, interrupting her thoughts. "I won't have time today, but tomorrow we will train..no excuses." With those final words, the Akalak turned away and headed off. Johan watched him for a few chimes, trying to decide if she wanted to blow him off and follow him, or trust that he would keep his word, before she finally went back inside their home. Once he arrived, the stone structure greeted him along with all the sights and sounds that he had grown accustomed too. He stepped inside, looking about none too please that all of the mats were taken up. None of the combatants looked fierce in his eyes, although the multi-armed Eypharian appeared to be a challenge worth toppling. It didn't matter though, Riaris wanted to fight and he didn't care who his opponent was or who was about to give up their place on the mat. That's when he noticed Mizra standing beside a smaller tattooed man who was well armed. "Mizra I need a mat, and I don't mind fighting for it if need be."

[Razkar]

"Mizra I need a mat, and I don't mind fighting for it if need be."

Razkar blinked in something close to shock. Had this new Akalak really just spoken so bluntly to the Master of the Kendokza Sasaran? Apparently so. Mizra turned to him slowly, carefully, patiently, and Razkar could almost hear the huge man counting to ten in his own head...

"Ah. Riaris." Mizra said, looking a foot down at the Akalak, himself a foot taller than Razkar and a good deal heavier. "Your informal way of speaking has not changed, I see. But you are in luck."

He stepped back to fully reveal the Myrian in all his dark-skinned, tattooed and pierced glory. Razkar looked up and met impossibly pale blue eyes with his own dark black coals. He nodded shortly.

This one... very promising.

He sized up the violet Akalak, this... "Riaris". He was tall and broad and strong-looking, but all Akalak were. Still, this one had a restless, aggressive energy radiating from him. His eyes flashed around, his nostrils were wide, he was... eager. Some part of his was straining for a release that Razkar knew only too well.

Mizra nodded to the silent Falyndar native. "How would you feel about sparring with a Myrian, Riaris?"

[Riaris Dovukalis]

To those who knew him, they would say that Riaris was blunt and to the point, while Recoomas was rather brazen and quite elusive when he wanted to be. This could be contributed to an extent on the way the warrior race raised their children and the way of life in general. Riaris was without a doubt a bold Akalak, who spared no words with others. Although some would see this as rude and disrespectful, it was simply his way. To speak to another was a sign of respect in itself, being that the massive Akalak could have easily chosen not too. "Informal?" Riaris asked, as he glanced up at the taller Akalak. "After all this time I had assumed that such social niceties were no longer needed. However if you find my..tone disrespectful it was not intended." Riaris knew of Mizra's legendary status, as all the Akalak did and he held great respect for the man. However, he was no more a God than Riaris and thrust he saw no reason to grovel before him. It seem fine to leave well enough alone, and so the Akalak did so and allowed the Master of the Kendokza Sasaran to continue. At least he would get what he wanted, and it appeared that he wouldn't actually have to fight for a spot. Unless he was mistaken the small tattooed man was also looking for an opponent. Riaris watched as the Akalak stepped aside and his icy gaze fell upon the dark-skinned warrior adorned with piercings and such. His over all appearance was busy in the least. The tattoos along with the piercings, and weapons made for a strong impression. Riaris rubbed at his chin as he looked the Myrian over. "I hadn't come with a combatant in mind, only the purpose of facing one. Your friend here will do nicely."

[Razkar]

And that was that, to put it bluntly.

Mizra nodded once and surrendered the mat to the two men, stepping back and watching quietly as they prepared themselves. Razkar shed his clothes and armor, or most of them. Everything but his loincloth was hung up by the entrance, and with every item he lost, he felt better for it.

The Myrian breathed in, smiling at the lack of cloth or leather constricting his tattooed and scarred chest as he did. A wooden hand ax was in his right hand. A wooden gladius was in his belt. He spun the former lightly in his grip, felt its balance... and was satisfied.

He stood across from Riaris across six feet of goose-stuffed matting, and waited patiently. As soon as the Akalak was ready, they would begin. He rocked back and forth lightly on the balls of his feet, feeling a looseness permeate his limbs as he did. He knew that Akalaks were as large as Tskannas, but Rykanis had showed him their agility was impressive. That, along with their sheer size and strength, made them... difficult opponents. Challenging.

And about time, too...

[Riaris Dovukalis]

Riaris had to wonder about the skills of the Myrian since Mizra seem interested in their match. It was true that Mizra loved the art of combat, and enjoyed training others in such skills and cared little for their race. But even so, he seemed to have a particular interest. "Let's get on with it then." he demanded. The Akalak took a wooden Lakan from the weapons rack and looked it over. The weight was a slight adjustment from his own Laken, but one he was used to. He turned back to his opponent and stepped onto the mat. He was amused watching the smaller man shedding his armor as he readied himself. Riaris glanced back towards Myrian as he watched them both from paces back. Riaris moved further onto the mat, closing the distance between them shorter, and lowered his center of gravity slightly to adjust the difference in height. Riaris rotated his arms, feeling his muscles awaken once again and loosen for the battle to come. The Akalak slowly circled the man, moving a bit closer. He clearly had the longer reach, but he also wielded the shorter weapon. It was best to stay within arms reach where he could over power the Myrian if need be. "I'll give you this one chance to strike first...take it." said boldly, bending his knees more and lifting the Lakan in one hand while raising the other with an open hand.

[Razkar]

The Myrian smiled at the Akalak's words. This truly was a pleasure. A simple sparring thread would have been enjoyable enough, but raising a few welts on an opponent who bragged and blustered?

That was always a joy.

Razkar felt the gnosis on the back of his neck burn and darted forward, almost in a crouch, towards Riaris's unarmed side on his left. His wooden ax came sweeping round in a flat horizontal chop, heading for his side. The lakan jerked round and blocked the blow that would have dented ribs, empty hand closing into a fist-

-Razkar's left leg jerked out and hammered a quick, brutal kick under the big man's kneecap.

Strike and point made, Razkar's legs straightened like a spring and he jumped lightly back, hand ax held ready for the inevitable retaliation.

[Riaris Dovukalis]

Riaris steadied his breathing, his large form crouching down to better handle the smaller man before him. His pale eyes focused on the Myrian, observing the way he rocked back and forth lightly on the balls of his feet. He was ready to attack and Riaris was waiting. He imagined for a moment, the pain that the man must have felt while the many drawings were painted into his flesh. Riaris knew of this, having his own tattoo on his left arm. The tattoo of the Zith was a constant reminder of the lives lost on that day, and the price that came with it. The room was anything but quiet, but Riaris was used to the sounds of combat and had learned to drown it all out so that he could maintain his focus. The Myrian struck fast, darting forward and to his side. The Akalak turned his hips, allowing him to jump back just in time to avoid the blow to his ribs while using his lakan to block the quick attack. The sudden kick that followed caught him off guard and he felt his leg jerk in which would probably leave a bruise later. The Myrian jumped back then, waiting for a response after making his point. Riaris stiffed a chuckled, lifting up his leg and bringing it back down to show the man that he was still ready to go. Then it was his turn and he moved closer, still circling the man, before he dashed forward, bringing the laken towards his gut with a false strike, only to pull his hand back half way as he rammed his unarmed fist into the Myrian's jaw. A smirk rose across his lips as he then stepped back. Point made..

[Razkar]

Razkar hadn underestimated Akalaks before, and now he paid for it again. The jab was a wake up call that sent him staggering backwards, a brief and painful constellation of stars flitting across his vision.

When he came back to reality, Riaris was standing there, smirking. The Myrian cocked an eyebrow and rubbed his jaw... then shrugged and made a face that said, "Not bad, but I've had better." Besides, he welcomed the pain. It reminded him he was alive, still feeling and breathing and when he took another breath, all that delicious ache in his jaw did was drive him on.

And now it was his turn.

They circled each other warily now, both a little more wise: one to the other's speed, one to the other's cunning. Riaris held his lakan ready and close, arms bent to jerk out in whatever direction, other hand half-closed into a fist, ready to punch or block as was needed. Razkar was almost mirroring his pose, ax half cocked back...

He darted forward to Riaris' unarmed side again, hand ax swinging vertically from above his head. That big violet hand shot up and grabbed his wrist as it descended, stopping it dead, wooden lakan stabbing towards Razkar's gut-

-and Razkar's own arm swung down and to the side, forearm knocking the stabbing wooden weapon to the side-

-as his bent legs straightened, exploding him upwards-

-and slamming the top of his head into the bottom of the taller Akalak's jaw.

There was... an impact, and Razkar was not without his share of pain, the top of his skull feeling like a coconut had hit it. But the grip on his wrist was suddenly gone, the Akalak stunned, and he managed to backpedal in fairly good order, head throbbing...

And smile on his face.

[Riaris Dovukalis]

The room was completely silent now, at least for Riaris who was focused on the match in progress. He and the Myrian both had made a point not to take the other lightly and just as well received that warning. They were paired off now, once again stalking each other, waiting for whomever to strike first and in what way they would tackle the next attack. The Akalak could only chuckle inwardly at the Myrian's reaction, he liked it the pain and it seemed to only drive his will...something Riaris knew a lot about. Riairs circled again silently, the big Akalak while possibly full of whit didn't speak much during a battle, even if it was just a sparing session. His mind was focused on his prey and taking him down was all that mattered. The crouching position that they both took was a basic stance, and one that left the combatant's limbs posted, yet ready to attack or defend. Again the Myrian darted towards Riaris's unarmed side, he was ready somewhat anticipating that his opponent would go for the supposed weaker side and countered. The Akalak grabbed the man's wrist and squeezed it tightly, as he brought his lakan towards the man's gut. The Myrian was quick and blocked the swing, before leaping up and giving Riaris a stiff headbutt to the chin. The Akalak stepped back then, his body still positions to strike as he moved his free hand across his chin. The fight was already becoming more fun, and they had just started. Riaris decided a blow for a blow was in order, and after giving the Myrian a nod of respect, he dashed forward lowering his shoulder into the man's chest, as he griped his upper arm while twisting his own hips and using the momentum to flip the man onto the mat. Riaris gave a light pat to the top of the man's head before stepping back and readying his weapon again.