Dark Storms of Change, Thread 1

[Hatot]

1rst Day of Summer, 510 A.V.

Hatot sat quietly along a bench in a dimly lit room, poor light filtering in from small slits along the wall, the outside view through them revealing heavy rain fall and soaked sands outside. The arena, echoed the thunders that rolled across the sky, heeding a fitting tension to the day at hand. The seats were lined with a small amount of spectators, fewer than usual. Whether that was due to the storm of the fact that Hatot was fighting wasn’t certain. One in particular sat along the high rows of the seating, his large frame covered by a black leather cloak, a hood casting a shadow over his features. Only the tip of his nose and curves of his lips seemed to be revealed, the pigment of his skin a deep blue in color.

Another roll of thunder pulled Hatot’s attention from the floor as his frame rose into a stand from where he sat, his feet eventually carrying him over towards the small window. A slow exhale was released as he raised his arm, pressing his hand along the wall with a small lean. His gaze then slowly shifted as two Akalak’s entered the room, both of them drenched by the rains. One of them was a Representative from the City Council Chambers, the other one of Hatot’s students. “They will not wait out the storm. The dispute will be settled by combat within.” The Representative informed Hatot.

Hatot gave a nod, looking to the Representative. “And their terms?” Hatot then asked.

“One on one fights. We won’t allow them to all face you at once.” The Representative replied. “All the same, they intend to kill you Hatot. I could see it in their eyes. Had your darker half not kill one of their own, we could deny them this opportunity. There may be something we can do though.”

Hatot quickly shook his head. “No. It’s as much my responsibility as Radris’.” Hatot replied, his hand falling to his side. “I was unable to prevent Radris from taking control. They deserve their chance at retribution. I won’t just offer them my neck though.”

“No true Akalak would.” The Representative replied. “The first match will begin in ten chimes. You are allowed a second to offer council and aid between matches. Is there someone you would like me to retrieve for that purpose?”

“Drioden will suffice.” Hatot simply said, motioning to his student.

Drioden looked surprised at Hatot’s selection as his gaze shifted to the Representative for a moment before stepping forward to Hatot’s side. The Representative gave a simple nod before moving out of the room, leaving the two of them alone. “Keep watch,” Hatot then simply said, “you’ll learn from these battles. Seeing one happen gives you insight into movements that are only imagined during practice. In between fights, just have bandaging ready to slow bleeding from any wounds I may receive.”

Drioden gave a simple nod as he stepped over towards the window, peering out into the Arena. “Do you think you can win?” Drioden then asked his teacher.

Hatot gave a slow shake of his head. “I do not speculate. No one should go into a battle expecting to win or lose.” Hatot replied, looking to Drioden. “It all depends on you and your opponent’s level of skill. Going in thinking you’ll win or lose will simply lower your own. Either by overconfidence or fear. Simply engage the battle, and let it reveal who is the better.”

Hatot then moved towards the exit of the room, preparing to make his way out to the Arena grounds proper. His gaze fell to the cloak that had been made for him by Kavala and his students as it hung along the wall near the room’s entrance. His head then lowered as he passed through the door way. “So why the kid and not Kavala?” Radris’ voice echoed inside his head.

“She has enough to contend with right now.” Hatot echoed back, his feet stopping at the edge of the entrance into the Arena grounds. “Sanctuary. Flick. The meeting with the Council. She doesn’t need to be here, seeing me injured again.”

“I thought you said she was made of stronger stuff?” Radris then echoed, a little scoff in his voice.

“That doesn’t mean we have to constantly test her limits.” Hatot replied, seeing the figure of human standing at the entrance along the other side of the Arena. Two Akalak guards stood ready along the grounds of the Arena itself. They were there to act as judge, ruling whether someone was defeated, as well as enforcers to ensure that the four others set to face Hatot wouldn’t try to interfere with a match in progress.

“Well, this is a fine mess you’ve gotten us into. We’re going to have to pace ourselves. Don’t waste any openings, even if they’re lethal ones.” Radris finally echoed as a flash of lightening brightened the area for a moment, the heavy rains mercilessly pounding along the ground, making it difficult to hear anything save for the thunder that roared across the skies.

“There will be no killing today if I can help it.” Hatot replied as both he and his first opponent began stepping out into the Arena. “One was enough. There’s no need to add more. The first one is what landed us here after all.”

Radris just echoed out a scoff as Hatot and his opponent stopped along the Arena facing each other, about ten feet of rain soaked sands separating them. His opponent was young, most likely about younger than the man Radris had killed days earlier. His long brown hair was soaked and matted, his build just slightly above medium for human standards. A smile crossed his features as a killing intent echoed from his presence. Slowly, he lowered the spear he let rest along his shoulder, pointing it’s tip at Hatot. He then began to speak, his voice barely audible over the storm. “Jarovan is my name, brother to the man you killed. I’m gonna take your head, blue man.” The boy simply said.

“Well, look at that. He’s cocky. Want me to take him?” Radris said, a bit of deviance in his voice.

“I can tell by the tone of your voice that he wouldn’t survive what you have planned for him.” Hatot said, his frame lowering slightly as his arms spread out, his hands opening. “I will take them.”

“Come for it then.” Hatot then yelled out to Jarovan.

“It’s on.” Radris echoed.

[Hatot]

Hatot stood ready, focused. His eyes stared past the heavy drops of rain that separated him and the young man who introduced himself as Jarovan. His skin felt the cold of the rain as it pelted his frame with little mercy, his ears taking in the heavy thunders ahead. He simply waiting for Jarovan to make the first move. Rushing a spear was madness in then end, as the forward motion left less chance for one to make an avoiding movement should the spear be suddenly thrust at them. Jarovan had the advantage of reach with his weapon. Hatot knew this, but Jarovan was also overconfident. It was a trait he could see in the young mans eyes and behind the smile that revealed he enjoyed the advantage he had. All Hatot had to do was be patient. His opportunity would present itself.

As another streak of lightning flashed across the sky, Jarovan started his attack as he took two quick steps forward, the tip of his spear cutting through drops of rain as he thrust the spear forward at Hatot’s chest. The young man’s speed surprised Hatot, his skill coming almost to par with his confidence as Hatot twisted his body while leaning back, only narrowly avoiding the thrust. The spear was pulled back just as quickly, not even allowing Hatot a chance to reach out and grab at the spear’s shaft in order to halt it’s movement to nullify it’s reach advantage. It was thrust forward again, just as quickly as it was retracted, this time causing Hatot to parry the incoming thrust with a sweeping motion of his gauntlet, his body not able to move as quickly in avoidance as a simple thrust in order to just dodge, as he normally would have.

Still, the movement did not drive Hatot back, rather, he began stepping forward, continuing to parry the thrusts as he attempted to move past the guard of the spear. Jarovan moved backwards just as quickly, continuing his thrusts as his right hand gripped the end of the spear, pushing it forward and pulling his back, as it slid through his other hand, which acted as a guide. The movements of the attack were so very simple yet, coupled with movement of his feet as he moved backward of forward to keep the reach advantage of the spear, so very effective. Finally, the tip of the spear found a piece of Hatot, as it dragged across Hatot’s shoulder as he parried it upward. He gritted his teeth, grunting out in pain as Radris growled loudly in his head. Hatot’s movement’s stopped momentarily at the pain as Radris tried to crawl out, to make it more aggressive.

Jarovan used this moment to make a large attack as his body leapt forward, spinning in the air to increase momentum. His spear came spinning through the air, the tip coming down, looking to cut deeply into Hatot’s flesh. Hatot’s teeth gritted as he quickly stepped forward, pushing past the pain of the cut he had just received, which was superficial despite how deep it had gone. Hatot had done what he desired, as he closed the distance between him and Jarovan, as the shaft of the spear struck along the muscle and armor found just between his shoulder and neck. More pain, but worth it as the shaft rattled momentarily in Jarovan’s hands, giving Hatot the time he needed to grasp the spear himself, halting it’s movement. Hatot stood in front of the young man, his free hand drawing back slightly, measuring a strike as his gaze burrowed into Jaravan’s eyes, who looked back at him with defiance. “Yield.” Hatot suggested with a stern tone.

“Petch you.” Jarovan replied as he spit at Hatot’s chest.

His insult and spitting wasn’t meant to get to Hatot on an emotional level, but instead was meant to distract, as Jarovan suddenly twisted the end of the spear to the left as the end suddenly screwed loose from the rest of the shaft, revealing a hidden dagger within as Jarovan pulled it free. He quickly moved to thrust the blade of the dagger into Hatot’s chest, but Hatot’s hand had already been drawn back, ready to strike, and with Hatot’s size, towering over the young human, he now had the reach advantage. Hatot’s fingers thrust forward, meeting Jarovan’s own thrust. His fingertips stuck Jarovan’s bicep squarely, tearing and bruising some of the muscle beneath, causing Jarovan to stumble back as the dagger suddenly dropped from his hand. “Devious little human, aren’t we?” Hatot said as he tossed the spear aside, moving forward to step between Jarovan and his dagger.

“I’m going to kill you yet you blue piece of shyke.” Jarovan said as his right arm suddenly fell limp at his side to his surprise.

“I becomes difficult to attack when your bicep has been driven to sleep by a strike.” Hatot explained, still moving forward. “You can still raise that arm, but only by use of your shoulder muscles now. For all intents and purposes, that limb has become nothing more than a dangling rope.”

“Gods you are such a weakling. You should have just broken his arm.” Radris suddenly commented.

“Be quiet Radris, this is my fight.” Hatot replied mentally as he kept his eyes on Jarovan’s movements.

Jarovan suddenly yelled out, swinging his left hand around in an attempt to punch Hatot now. Hatot repeated the same strike, as his fingers once again thrust forward, striking the tissue of his left bicep now. The same effect happened, as Jarovan’s other arm went limp at the elbow. Jarovan looked up to Hatot, defiance in his eyes as he stood his ground. Hatot shook his head slightly, looking to the young human. “Yield now and you’ll avoid any serious injury. You’ll get full range of motion back in your arms within a bell and the bruising will be gone within a couple of days.” Hatot explained, offering one last time.

“You offer the same to my brother you petching blue prick!?” Jarovan replied as he kicked out at Hatot now.

Hatot stepped to the side, his hand catching Jarovan’s foot, holding it up in the air as Jarovan hopped along his other foot to keep his balance. “I did, and like you, he kept pushing to attack. You’re a greater fool than he is though, he was drunk. You are not, and I’m done feeling like I should go easy on you.”

Hatot’s free hand then suddenly rushed around like a whip as fingers impacted with Jarovan’s temple, concussing his brain and sending him stumbling to the ground, motionless. “Now, you’ll be dazed for a week.” Hatot then said, stepping back a couple of paces.

One of the Akalak’s who acted as judge and enforcer stepped forward, kneeling next to the boy as he began checking him over. “The child is unconscious this match is over.” The Akalak called out as two Akalak healers came stepping out of a side exit to retrieve the boy and tend to his injuries. “You have five chimes to rest and prepare for your next match.”

Hatot gave a nod to the judge, slowly turning as he began making his way back to his own room, his hand reaching up to grasp at the wound along his shoulder, wincing slightly as he began to notice the pain more now. “Like hell it is.” Radris suddenly said.

“What?” Hatot replied, a confused tone in his echoing thoughts to Radris.

“This fight. It just ain’t yours. If anything, it’s more mine.” Radris said, growling slightly. “I killed their fool kin.”

“They don’t know of the dual natures of our race.” Hatot replied, stepping into the room.

“Nor would they likely care if they did.” Radris argued, his voice now passing Hatot’s lips, causing Drioden to look on with surprise and unease as he greeted Hatot at the entrance of his room. “I’m taking the next fight.”

“I don’t think that’s wise.” Hatot said verbally, Drioden now looking to Hatot with confusion as it began appearing as though his teacher was talking to himself aloud.

“You’ve got two injuries just from the first fight. You’re being to damned soft!” Radris now yelled out through Hatot’s mouth. “Listen, you either let me do my part, or my anger grows and the next time you get hurt, I come roaring out and we have a repeat of what happened last time."

Hatot fell silent, looking to Drioden as he saw fear suddenly rising in the young Akalak’s eyes over the possibility. Finally, Hatot released a sigh, his hand dropping from his shoulder as he lowered his head. “Fine.” Hatot said reluctantly. “No killing them though.”

“Oh, come on, don’t be such a buzz kill.” Radris said with a disappointed tone.

“I mean it Radris, no killing them.” Hatot said in a stern tone.

“Fine, fine, fine. I promise.” Radris finally said as he suddenly felt control rushing over him, sensing his thoughts causing movements of his body, his eyes seeing more clearly, his ears taking in the sound, and the smell of his own blood in the air. Blood red Iris’ shot over toward Drioden as the young Akalak took a step back in surprise. Radris grinned wide, looking to the student. “Drioden, get off your lazy ass and get some bandages on my shoulder. At the very least, stop the bleeding.”

Radris then looked to the window giving a view of the Arena proper as a slight chuckle escaped his lips. “This is such a perfect setting for battle.” Radris said, admiring the storm.

[Hatot]

The second match was about to begin, and the storm showed no signs of letting up. The two combatants began walking out into the arena. One of them was another young man, appearing a little older than the last one, but this one carried a heavy mace and appeared slightly more built than the last one. Not that such was saying much in comparison to the size of the Akalak he was about to face. The figure, cloaked in black who sat high up in the stands, observed as the walk of the Akalak had changed, and a smile slowly crossed his lips as he knew by the confident walk, the face contorted slightly in both amusement and mischief, that the darker half of the Akalak had stepped out this time.

Radris stopped along the sands, his hands falling to his waist as he tilted his head slightly, staring across the space that separated him and the human. The human slowly rose his mace in Radris’ direction, a calm face making a look of anger staring at Radris. Radris smirked at this, knowing already that this human would be easy to provoke. “I am Balkin, and..” the human began to say.

“I don’t care.” Radris snarled, cutting Balkin off.

“What?” Balkin replied, his frowning slightly in both confusion and irritation.

“I said I don’t care. I don’t care what your name is, little man.” Radris replied, chuckling slightly. “Just yield now.”

Balkin didn’t reply, but instead yelled out in anger as he ran towards Radris, drawing his mace back as he closed the distance. When he was within range, he then swing it heavily, as the large ball began batting through drops of rain towards Radris’ head. Radris giggled, ducking below it while taking a step forward. His hand suddenly rose, slamming into Balkin’s face as his palm covered the entirety of it, his fingers digging into the flesh along his face, blood slightly pooling at Radris’ fingertips as Balking began to grunt into Radris’ palm. With a haughty shove forward, Radris then pushed Balkin backwards, forcing him to stumble to the ground. Balkin slowly looked up as Radris was standing over him, staring at him with a amused smile on his face. He slowly reached up, rubbing his face as torn flesh let out fresh blood being quickly washed away by the rain. Balkin‘s hand shook for a moment, recalling the strength of Radris‘ grasp. He could have sworn, for a brief moment, that his cheekbones were about to break under the pressure he was applying. The sting still remained. “Hey?” Radris said, catching Balkin’s attention again. “Why don’t you lay there and bleed for a while, before you taste some real pain?”

Balkin roared with anger as he began a backswing with his mace, aiming for Radris’ knees while simultaneously standing back up. Radris echoed laughter at him as hopped backwards, the tip of the mace brushing along the fabric of his pants. Balkin then stepped forward, coming in for another swing. Radris’ laughter continued as his hand reached out and the mace smacked into his palm, being halted completely. Balkin looked to Radris with shock as Radris smiled to him with a look of insanity. Before he could react any further, Radris was already stepping in, as the teeth of his gauntlet was pressed against Balkin’s bare arm. A quick motion sent Radris’ arm downward then, the teeth of his gauntlet dragged along Balkin’s arm as flesh and muscle was torn away. Balkin screamed out in pain and rage as he dropped his mace to the ground.

Balkin’s left hand then swung around in a punch, as Radris continued to laugh. Radris leaned back, avoiding the punch before his hand grabbed Balkin’s wrist. Radris swung his arm around, slamming his palm into Balkin’s locked elbow as a crunch echoed out from, his arm bending the wrong way at the elbow joint. Both of his arms disabled, Balkin began to stumble backwards, looking back and forth over his arms. Radris took a couple steps forward, once again closing the distance between then. Balkin looked up at Radris, fear entering his eyes for the first time. “Should have yielded.” Radris said before dropping down to one knee, his fist shooting strait down and impacting with Balkin’s knee.

Balkin yelled out in pain one last time as he dropped to the ground, his kneecap shattered. Radris slowly turned, heading back to the exit that would lead him to his room. “This one’s over judge,” Radris said to the Akalak who walked over to confirm such for himself. “I’m going to take my breather.”

The judge soon confirmed what Radris had claimed, motioning once again for the Akalak healers, this time motioning them to move quicker, the torn flesh along Balkin’s right arm bleeding a little heavily under the pouring rains. “Well, that was a little extreme.” Hatot echoed into Radris’ mind, a tone of disapproval in his voice.

“He’ll live.” Radris echoed back. “What more do you want?”

“You broke your hand, catching his mace, didn’t you?” Hatot then said as he noticed Radris opening it and closing it slowly.

“Yeah, but did you see the look of surprise on his face?” Radris said, chuckling slightly.

[Hatot]

They sat on the bench within their room, heavily breathing as the rain continued to pour outside. Their arm bled from where the spear hit them in the first fight, their left hand began to swell slightly from the small break they had received from their second fight. They still had three fights to go. Only a single body sat, but the word “they” still applied. Drioden looked on with confusion and a little fear as his Akalak teachers sat along the bench in their room, their blue skin shimmering slightly in the flashes of lightning that filtered in through the small window. Droplets of rain still streaked down their body and dripped from the tip of their chin, their body hunched forward slightly. It wasn’t the way they sat there, or that they were injured that confused and frightened Drioden slightly, though. It was the fact that both Hatot and Radris were conversing to each other, verbally, the walls that separated them from their body torn down now, with neither in complete control.

“I’m taking the next fight.” Hatot said, their head lowered, gazing towards the ground.

“What? Like hell.” Radris said, turning their head slightly, looking out the window. “I finished our last opponent off in a third of the time you did yours. Besides, I’m still anxious, so I’ll take the next one.”

“You got a fight in, now it is my turn.” Hatot said plainly as their gaze dropped to the floor again.

“Why, so you can get our other shoulder cut with a bladed weapon?” Radris sneered as their head turned looking to their shoulder.

“The injury you sustained to our hand was far worse.” Hatot said as their hand was then held out in front of their gaze. “With a small break in our hand, our attacks will lose some power to them. Furthermore, you did it just to appear impressive.”

“We did look impressive.” Radris said, moving their hand out of sight. “After seeing that and what I did to the last guy, the others in line to fight us are likely pissing their pants. Even if they don’t plain forfeit, there will be hesitation in them now. It’s part of strategy.”

“No, strategy would have involved a plan that didn’t get us injured further.” Hatot replied, falling silent for a moment as their gaze dropped down to the floor once again. “You’re good with psychologically attacking an enemy as well as physical Radris, but the price may have been to high this time.”

“Fine, but that don’t mean I can’t fight.” Radris commented.

“Nor me.” Hatot replied, letting a moment of silence pass.

“So what do you suggest then?” Radris said, shaking their head slightly.

“That both of us fight.” Hatot said, causing a look of surprise to appear on Drioden’s face once again.

“What?” Radris said, surprise also on his voice. “You gone a little crazy?”

“No, it’s obvious both of us have a flaw in our combative approaches.” Hatot explained as they slowly stood. “I hold back and you choose sometimes not even to defend. Neither one of us can get through the rest of this alone.”

“Okay, I’ll bite, but that don’t mean we can coordinate.” Radris said, their arms lifting slightly in a shrug as they continued to walk around the room. “When we were working on our lakans, that was proof of that.”

“Radris, what are you doing right now?” Hatot then asked.

“Pacing and talking to you. What the hell kind of question is that?” Radris replied.

“Speaking out loud, as I am as well. As well, I’m also pacing.” Hatot then pointed out. “We already are coordinating.”

Radris slowly lifted their head, their gaze falling to Drioden for the first time who looked back at him with a slight wonder in his own eyes. Drioden then saw, for the first time, what was happening with their eyes, as colors of red and gold swam around together in their iris’, as if each of them were sharing space. “Is that true, Drioden?” Radris asked, Drioden nodding to him in response. “Huh, how about that. Weird, it feels like I’m in control.”

“You are, to a certain extent.” Hatot replied as they raised their hands, looking over them. “However, so am I.”

“Okay, now you’re just being cryptic.” Radris said as they shook their head.

“It’s like our father always said, like Kavala had suggested, though in not so direct terms.” Hatot replied as they began walking towards the door. “We’re stuck with each other, weaker when we restrict one another. We may not agree on many things Radris, but getting through this is one of them. Our movements still feel a little rough, but I feel them meshing well all the same.”

“So how’s that going to affect our combat?” Radris then questioned, instinctively already knowing the answer as a grim spread along their lips.

“I imagine it will take us a little time to adjust, both of us right now as we are can’t handle both offense and defense together.” Hatot replied as their hands laid idly along their side for a moment, twisting back and forth, opening and closing. “So for now, I’ll handle defense. You handle the injuries. Your eyes will look for opening, mine will keep watch over danger. Agreed?”

“Oh yeah.” Radris replied, a chuckling escaping his lips. “If for no other reason than to see how things go. Could be fun.”

They stepped out into the rain, their opponent already standing at the center as large battle axe rested along his shoulder. His long brown hair was matted, soaked from the rains as he stared past it towards them with dark green eyes as they approached. His face was neither contorted in anger or slapped with a smile of overconfidence. There was a simple look of indifference on his face. As Hatot and Radris stopped, looking towards the man, he tilted back his head slightly, letting the rain hit his face. “I am Graygor, brother to the man you killed and the two you injured.” He said with a simple tone before the axe fell from his shoulder, the tip cutting into the sands slightly. “May the Gods grant me strength in visiting the same to you.”

“You’re not going to get wheepy and apologetic with this guy now, are you?” Radris muttered under his breath to Hatot.

“I don’t think it would make a difference.” Hatot replied.

“Are you ready?” The Akalak judge then asked, looking to the combatants.

“Hold up one second.” Radris said aloud, holding up their hand as the judge paused. Radris then looked to Graygor, their hand lowering as their head tilted slightly, looking over Graygor and the way he carried himself. Radris then shook his head. “Nah, I don’t think so.”

“What?” Hatot whispered under his breath to Radris.

“You forfeit then?” The Akalak judge asked them.

Radris let out a slight chuckle, shaking their head once again. “No, not at all, but this is being dragged out.” Radris replied, looking to Graygor. “How about you bring out your next kinsman in line as well. I’ll fight two of you at once.”

“It was decided that the fights would be one on one, and agreed upon by the family seeking justification.” The Akalak judge replied quickly. “You don’t have to fight two of them at a time.”

“Do you really think we can do this?” Hatot then questioned, his voice only high enough for Radris to hear.

“Yeah, I’m thinking we can, so long as your defense holds.” Radris replied, before giving a shrug and looking to Graygor. “I don’t mind if he doesn’t.”

Graygor’s eyes narrowed, as if he felt insult by Radris’ suggestion. In the end then, he looked to the judge and gave a nod. “Very well, if he wishes defeat all that much quicker, I don’t believe I should deny one of my brothers the satisfaction of laying a few attacks into him.”

The Akalak judge looked to Graygor before looking back to both Hatot and Radris, who nodded to him. He looked back to the entrance on the other end of the Arean before yelling out, “Bring out the next combatant as well. This next match, shall be two on one.”

A moment later, a tall human with a shaved head stepped out into the arena, his body slim, but well toned. His facial features resembled that of the Graygor’s, suggesting they might have been twins, if not for the difference in their personality. In his hands, the man held a whip, constantly winding it up in his hand and releasing it as he approached. When he finally stopped, standing next to Greygor, he gave a menacing laugh. “Well, looks like this little party got a little more interesting.” He said, dropping the wound up length of whip to the ground. “The name is Rogyarg, and it will be my pleasure to kill you on this day. You look like shyke, you know that?”

“It’s odd.” Hatot then mumbled under his breath to Radris as their gaze shifted between the two.

“What is?” Radris replied, twisting their head back and forth in quick motion as joints popped loudly.

“Looking between the two of them. One is calm and reserved, the other brash and confrontational.” Hatot explained as he began spreading their legs slightly, taking their stance. “It’s almost as if they were us, separated by two bodies.”

“Well then,” Radris said as he began raising their hands, holding them out slightly in their stance, “this should be fun.”

“Gentlemen….” Hatot said to Greygor and Rogyarg.

“….bring it on.” Radris finished saying.

[Hatot]

The fight had begun quickly as Greygor took a few leaping steps at them, swinging bringing his axe in a downward swing. Hatot moved their body in defense as he stepped to the side and the axe buried into the ground beside them. Radris’ caught sight of the opening as his hand began to move towards striking at Greygor’s elbow joint, but his opportunity was last as Hatot suddenly ducked down when the crack of Rogyerg’s whip snapped above them. “Gah, you made me miss my opening!” Radris complained, his words echoing in Hatot’s mind.

“I’m evading two of them, which was your idea.” Hatot said as he his hand dropped to the sand and he rolled to his right as Greygor’s axe came slashing into the ground again. “Move faster.”

As Hatot rose into the air, he suddenly found himself leaning back as Rogyerg’s whip came cracking at his face once again. Surprise caught his features though when Radris suddenly shot their hand up into the air, snatching the whip as it was being pulled back. “Thanks for the tip.” Radris suddenly echoed as he yanked hard, pulling Rogyerg‘s body forward with it as well. Hatot‘s eyes slowly moved to see Greygor suddenly throwing a right fist in their direction. He found he had no time to avoid this time, and in the end, he began moving his body and turning his head, rolling with the strike itself. While it was enough to grind his cheek into his teeth and rip the flesh, Hatot thought the pain minimal as he looked back to Greygor, spitting the blood beginning to pool in his to the ground. “Is that all you have?” Hatot suddenly said, noting a visible surprise on Greygor‘s face as he wound his axe back for a new attack.

“Nice.” Radris complimented before quickly snatching out during Greygor’s back swing, gripping the nerve bundles found in his bent elbow tightly.

Greygor screamed out in pain as he quickly yanked his elbow out of their grip and began shaking his arm, trying to get feeling back into it. Radris rose his hand for another strike, but a burning pain entered his arm as they heard another crack of Rogyerg’s whip. Hatot ducked their body down as another crack of the whip came at them. He knew what had to be done as he quickly began rushing forward at Rogyerg. “You want to know the critical problem with whips are?” Radris said to Rogyerg as his hand suddenly snatched out, grabbing Rogyerg by his wrist as he began swinging his whip forward again Rogyerg’s eyes widening by their speed as they covered the fifteen feet of distance between them in little time. “There’s a fair amount of time between effective swings, and once you get within the distance of their full length, they become somewhat useless, save for choking someone with."

Radris smiled, drawing back his hand to strike. Hatot, however, noticed something he did not, and before Radris could make his attack, Hatot stepped their body to the side as Radris caught sight of Greygor trying to strike them with his axe from behind. A small smirk crossed Radris’ face as he saw where the axe would drop if it continued. “No killing.” Hatot echoed loudly.

“Yeah, yeah.” Radris said as he suddenly yanked Rogyerg forward, causing him and his brother to suddenly collide with each other.

“Go for it now, Radris.” Hatot then calmly suggested as both of their eyes saw several opening lighting up in their field of vision like flashing lights, tangled to together as they were for that brief moment.

“Pfft, like I need you to tell me.” Radris echoed back as his head lowered and his frame took a step in, both of his hands drawing back.

What happened next was almost symmetry, like a dance that was both violent and beautiful at the same time as Radris’ hands began thrusting forward in a flurry of motion. Both of his arms almost became a blur as his first strike shot up as at Greygor, as Radris used the ridge of his hand between his thumb and index fighter to strike at Greygor’s throat just below the Adam’s Apple. As Greygor grasped his throat, coughing loudly to regain his ability to breath, Radris then swung the side of his other hand into the base of Rogyerg’s head, causing him to stumble forward once again into his brother. Hatot continued to move them forward as Radris struck, his fingers now pressing bundles of nerves along Rogyerg’s back, causing pain with the disorientation he was already experiencing. His fingers thrust into Greygor’s shoulder then as a slight pop could be felt underneath, causing Greygor to scream out in pain between coughs as well as drop his axe. As Greygor stumbled back from his brother due to the blow, Hatot moved in between them, dropping down as Rogyerg made a poor attempt at throwing a punch at them. Hatot’s positioning was prime as Radris thrust both of his hands outward, striking both brothers in their knees as a slight duet sound of a crack seemed to rise about the sound of the falling rains before both Greygor and Rogyerg fell to their good knee, screaming out in pain.

Their screams didn’t last long as Radris’ hands shot out, gripping both of them by their throats and began to squeeze. “Oh how easy it would be.” Radris then mused out loud, looking both of them as they began to choke and gasp for air. Both of the brothers grasped Radis’ arm, trying to free themselves, but with the strikes he had already gave them previously, his grip proved to be too strong. “A little more pressure, and I could rip out both of your throats like I was tearing paper.”

Radris continued to stare at both of them, his grip tightening a little more. “Not going to say anything?” Radris then echoed to Hatot.

“If I felt, for even a brief moment, you were going to go against your word to me,” Hatot then replied, “I wouldn’t have moved you into this position in the first place.”

“Heh, you’re too trusting sometimes,” Radris said as his grip tightened even more, cutting off the flow of blood along that ran along Greygor’s and Rogyerg’s necks. It only took a few moments before both of them finally passed out from lack of oxygenated blood as Radris released his grip, dropping them to the grounds. “This time, however, you’re proven right.”

The judge slowly came over as he examined both of the brothers lying along the ground. He then called out for healers to come and collect them, declaring Hatot and Radris the winner. Both of them refused to move back towards their respective room for the five chime breather, but instead they gazed strait towards the door, waiting for their final opponent. Just one more fight, one more and it would be over.

[Hatot]

Hatot and Radris stood at the center of the Arena, their gaze still peering towards the entrance of their opponents, waiting for the final one. There was a certain anticipation they could feel, being so close to the end and having made it so far with only minor injuries. The felt Wysar smiled upon them that day. Radris slowly opened and closed their right hand, feeling the throbbing increase. “It’s beginning to swell.” Radris noted to Hatot. “I figure it’ll be about another ten chimes before it’s useless.”

“Let it be an object lesson in show boating then,” Hatot replied as he rolled their injured shoulder, finding it still in good shape, despite the deepness of the gash. “Next time avoid the mace, rather than catching it to cause fear and awe.”

“Petch you.” Radris grunted, a slight smirk crossing their features. “I loved that look on his face. Besides, it’d be a moot point if Kavala had been hear to heal it right after.”

“We’ll not start that argument now.” Hatot replied to him, keeping their gaze to the other side of the Arena. “We still have one more opponent to get through.”

“Yeah, just one. We just handled two after all, I think we can handle one more.” Radris snorted, using the teeth along the gauntlet to make a small cut along center of his palm. Blood began to slowly slide out from the cut, easing the continued swelling that was happening and buying them possibly a few more chimes.

“The only reason those two were a little easier to contend with is because their weapons didn’t compliment each other.” Hatot explained as he tilted their head back slightly, letting the rain hit their face to clear their head. “Had Rogyerg been wielding a sword or club, it would have been harder to evade their attacks together.”

“Fine. Point to you, I’ll give you that one.” Radris echoed as he opened their eyes, looking back down to the arena grounds. “Well, it’s about time.”

At the other end of the arena, their final opponent finally stepped out. He was tall, and built, like most of the others before him. He was older, however, looking to be in his late forties. His health didn’t look to suffer from such age though as his steps and hands swung as calmly and loosely as the younger humans before him. Small scars lined what visible flesh they could see as rain pelted off his head, shaved bald. A thick grey beard lined his face as stern brown eyes stared at them from across the field. His right hand slowly reached to left waist, pulling free a expensive looking rapier from a sheath. His left hand moved to his other waist, pulling out a long bladed dagger from a sheath there as he drew closer.

“He has scars, but no visible ailments in his walk from them. Which means he’s tasted pain but hasn’t been crippled by it.” Hatot examined as the old man approached. “The way he holds his blades to, and the walk. He has experience, likely more of it than those that we faced before him.”

“His look too.” Radris said as he narrowed their eyes. “He has no fear, only confidence. He’s not weighed down by any real emotion that I can see. He’s totally focused on his opponent in front of him, not even seeming to be bothered by what we’ve done to those that we fought before him. Boring, but dangerous.”

The old man finally stopped in front of them, his weapons held lazily at his side at first, showing no tension in his grasp, wasting no energy or strength what so ever before the fighting began. “My name is Morgan Algorium.” He said calmly, looking into their eyes. “You have fought well this day. The skill you showed in dispatching my sons, I can see why my first fell to you. You have my respect for that skill. Still, I can not let the death of my son go completely unanswered. So I do hope that you’ve saved enough for this final confrontation. May the more skilled individual win.”

“This isn’t going to be easy.” Radris finally said, slowly raising their hands.

“No, I don’t suspect it will be.” Hatot replied as he slowly spread their legs out, bending at the knees slightly.

[Hatot]

It happened so quick, as a flash of lightning streaked across the sky, father of the children known as Moran Algorium lunged forward, thrusting the tip of his sword towards their face. They barely had time to react, surprised by the speed this human male possessed. Their body twisted, bending back slightly as the tip of the blade grazed across their cheek, cutting lightly into their flesh as blood trailed along the edge of the blade. Radris quickly snatched their left hand upward to strike at Mrogan’s exposed arm, but their strike was suddenly intercepted as they felt the tip of Morgan’s dagger pierce through their palm. A slow grunt was exhaled as their body continued to bend back when Morgan began to swing the rapier towards their face. The slash came right after his full thrust had been extended, so not a much power would be behind it, yet they still bent backwards, avoiding it as the edge of Morgan’s blade rushed directly for their right eye in attempt to blind them.

They were successful, as the rapier swung past their head by a mere inch, slicing through a couple strands of their hair along it’s way. Another twinge of pain occurred, however, as Morgan twisted then blade of his dagger, further aggravating the wound along their hand. Radris echoed a growl from their lips, quickly pulling their hand free from the blade. Their body suddenly lunged forward as Radris shot their right hand towards Morgan’s shoulder joint. Morgan’s own body leaned and twisted back, as his dagger was swung upwards, cutting lightly into their right bicep. Once again their attack was countered, and for the first time since starting this Arena gauntlet, they were starting to be pushed back as Morgan began to press his own attack, repeatedly slashing and thrusting at them with his blade. He kept the attacks short and graceful, there was no force behind any one attack that would outright kill them, but rather, they were all meant to injure. Three more stabs, one to his left shoulder, another to his right and a third to his leg found them suddenly leaping back and creating distance between them and Morgan. “Petching hell! This guy his good.” Radris echoed out as there was less annoyance now and more enjoyment in the tone of his voice.

“We’re as skilled as he is, the only problem is, he’s faster and has the reach advantage with his rapier.” Hatot echoed back as their fingers along their left hand began to wiggle around. “Plus he wields two weapons, so he has no inherently open side to attack from.”

“He’s a little sadistic too.” Radris then echoed, raising their left hand and licking the wound for a moment. “It doesn’t show, but he’s enjoying the pain he’s putting us through.”

“There’s more to it.” Hatot replied. “We killed his son, so of course he’s enjoying the wounds, but he’s been studying how we’ve been fighting for the past three matches. He knows he’s faster and he now knows our basic movements. Most dangerously, with a light blade like he uses, which emphasizes grace more than power, he’s following the same principles of our hand to hand form. He’s hindering our movements and thus our ability to attack and defend before finishing us off. That first attack was just to test how much speed we still had left.”

“Oh, this guy is just really a whole lot of fun.” Radris echoed, letting a little chuckle escape their lips.

“This is serious Radris.” Hatot replied.

“You petching right it is. This is the most fun I’ve had with an opponent in several seasons." Radris echoed back with enthusiasm. “Switch with me.”

“What?” Hatot then said, almost confused be the glimpses of Radris’ plan he was catching.

“You know what I’m planning.” Radris echoed. “Just do it.”

“This is going to be a mess.” Hatot complained, but complying as he started rushing them forward, taking on a more offensive role this time.

“Yeah, a whole mess of fun.” Radris replied as he suddenly shifted their body to the side as Morgan attempted to thrust his rapier at them as they came in. His left arm suddenly swung over Morgan’s blade, wrapping around it. Morgan began to pull his blade back, cutting deeply into the underside of their arm. Radris’ hand caught him by the wrist, however, before he could pull his blade completely free. Hatot then began thrusting their right hand directly towards Morgan’s throat, and as Radris had suspected, Morgan’s dagger came into play to stop it.

Radris’ movements then took over, as his right arm lowered slightly, his wrist turning as the blade of Morgan’s dagger suddenly slid along the surface of their teethed gauntlet. A quick twist of their wrist held it in place for a moment, to Morgan’s surprise as he looked up to their face. Radris let the smile along their lips spread even more as he suddenly gave a twisting jerk of his right arm, snapping Morgan’s dagger and three of the teeth along his own gauntlet. Hatot wasted no time as their hand was suddenly swung back, the flat of their palm slapping hard into Morgan’s left ear as he stumbled back, breaking free from the grasp of their left hand.

“Shyke,” Radris echoed as their left arm hung limp at their side now. “Between the wound on the hand and cuts on the underside of our arm, the left is completely useless now.”

“I told you it would be a mess.” Hatot replied.

“Totally worth it.” Radris echoed back. “He don’t have his dagger to poke us with no more.”

Hatot then moved their body forward, intent on finishing it as Morgan still tried to gain his bearings. As the came in, Morgan began raising his blade, looking to use their momentum to impale them along his rapier. His movements were sluggish though, his ear ring and his coordination off due to the strike Hatot hand managed to land. Radris swing their right arm across their body as their gauntlet slammed into the blade knocking it aside. A strong jump from Hatot then found their knees slamming into Morgan’s shoulders, knocking him to the ground. One of Hatot’s knees laid along Morgan’s right arm, pinning it to his chest and preventing him from swinging his sword anymore, his other leg stretched back, anchoring into the ground for balance as Hatot drew back his right hand. Morgan looked up into their face, a look of indifference now crossing his features, hinted with regret. Hatot thrust his hand forward then as Morgan closed his eyes, waiting for the inevitable deathblow. A hollow thud echoed in his still ringing ear then, as his eyes opened. His gaze moved to the left to see their hand plunged into the arena ground, a mere inch from his head. “I apologize for your son,” Hatot then said to Morgan, “but he was drunk, and despite my several attempts to end things without violence, he persisted in trying to kill me. In the end, he left me no choice.”

A slow frown crossed over Morgan’s face, almost as if he didn’t want to hear Hatot’s words. “You are not drunk, and can leave me with a choice though.” Hatot then continued. “Do you yield?”

A long moment of silence passed between them then as the rains continued to pelt their bodies. Morgan’s face then took on a look of sorrow as he turned his head to the side, releasing a slight sigh. “The boy never was good with his liquor, but he was still my son.” Morgan said before looking back up to Hatot. “Still, I have four other sons that shouldn’t be without their father. Not yet at least. You turned out to be the better this day, so I yield.”

Hatot then pulled his hand out of the earth as his body rolled off of Morgan’s and he sat along the ground. Exhaustion and pain began to slowly set in as he sat there, the Akalak judge approaching them. “What is the decision?” the Akalak judge then asked, having not heard their words over the rain.

Morgan slowly sat up, looking over to the Hatot, revenge still in his eyes. “I yield.” Morgan finally said though as he slowly began to stand, still looking at Hatot. “He’s earned his stay of death. Be warned though, if me or my sons spot you outside of your city limits, there won’t be any Arena rules to see you through that second encounter.”

Morgan then slowly began moving back towards the arena exit which would lead to his room, wishing to see his sons. Hatot just continued to sit there, his gaze falling to the ground as the Akalak judge called for healers to aid him. Up in the stands, however, that cloaked figure which had been observing for the entirety of all four matches seemed to appear indifferent, almost disappointed by it’s end. As a gust of wind blew by, a slow rattle of his hood revealed just a bit more of his face. There, along his skin of his cheek, the black inks of tattoos could be seen.

End of Part 1.

[Puck]

Impending Award! Hatot_______ Skills Unarmed Combat 5 Intimidation 3 Intelligence 2 (Analyzing opponents) Tactics 3 (Hatot and Radris' strategizing against the brothers, adapting the strategies) Negotiation 2 (Hatot and Radris talking, working out their give and take system) Lore Defending your Honor Fighting in the Arena