Garren was bouncing on the balls of his feet impatiently, tossing his battleaxe from hand to hand. He and a couple of other young Akalak were at the top of a rolling plain, waiting on a caravan. This was a trade caravan that was being escorted by some Drykas through the Sea of Grass, and they'd sent a scout ahead to Riverfall. Garren had immediately volunteered for the job of meeting the wagons, with a few other brothers, the very same ones that went through the Rite of Trials with him. He looked over at the great green mountain of an Akalak, Shagineir who wielded a massive wooden club. He was leaning against it, the tallest, broadest of shoulders in the group, watching the path of monoliths that travelers were required to take. He never spoke much, unlike Heqarim, the much smaller, nimbler red Akalak, that was busy stretching, his mouth running faster than an enraged Glassbeak. "Oy how many women do you think are in this caravan? I hope there are several, I'll need at least six, and maybe leave one for you two dolts. And I swear to Chevas, if she's got those women marked, I'm going to be breaking up a lot of vows."
Garren was restless, riding on his youthful energy, and wanted to fight something. He looked over at Heqarim, "You talk to much." The red Akalak glared back, plucked his spear from his back. He twirled in a single hand over his head, then smacked it down into his second hand, holding it out in front of him. He smirked, then rushed over to Garren, swinging the butt of his weapon upward. Garren stepped backward and swung the blunt end of his axe in a similar swing. Heqarim flipped the spear around, swinging the spear head at Garren's knees. Garren stepped forward at a diagonal angle, then caught the heft of the spear with the ball of his foot. He pushed forward with his shoulder, crashing into Heqarim's chest, knocking him backwards.
Heqarim fell backwards into an intentional roll, then thrust the spear forward and up. Garren spun around the thrust, only to get smacked in the chest by the butt of the spear. "Hah, take th-- oof" Garren had been knocked down on his back, but immediately kicked both legs out, striking him in the ankles. The red Akalak fell forward, his spear burying into the soil next to Garren's neck. Garren rolled up onto his shoulders, planted his feet against his opponent's chest. A powerful thrust upwards sent him flying back away from his spear, crashing into the soft ground nearby. Rengar hopped to his feet to continue his assault, when they were interrupted by a gruff, "Stop playing around, they're on their way."
They both looked up at the green Akalak, then saw the dust cloud coming from the trail in the distance. The caravan was approaching. |
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