Completed [The Anthonius Fighter's Pit] Into the Pit (Aoren)

[Solin]

Time Stamp: 43rd of Summer, 513AV
Location: The Anthonius Fighter's Pit
Who: Aoren Skycrown

As he walked into the Anthonius Fighter's Pit at noon, Solin swore at himself under his breath in Tukant because he didn't want to come to the fighting pit during the hottest and busiest times of the day, but the Kelvic overslept once again, and now he needed to wait in line to get a archery lane. As he walked to the archery lines, he saw two loud human males talking to each other. He was surprised there wasn't anyone in the middle lane between them. Solin immediately took the vacant lane, and he started to unbuckle his sword scabbard. The kelvic glanced at the bald human to his left and saw his whole body was covered head to toe with tattoos. Solin gave him a polite nod and said with a smile, “Pleasant day isn't?” The bald man glared at him for a few ticks and said sharply, “It hotter than shyke, boy, and I think you should move along since we are shooting here today.” Solin kept his smile on his face and nodded to the man, and he looked at the large man to his right. This human had long oily black hair with a raven tattoo on his back. His eyes glanced to his backpack and saw a long sword scabbard laying against it. Solin smirked at the bald man and said laugh, “Well my colorful friend, I am not moving since there is three lanes and only two of you, so we could always make a compromise. Why don't your greasy friend over there move to my lane, so you two can spend the rest of your day together in peace than I will take his lane farther away from you, so we will all be happy.”

The bald man stuck a finger in his face and said sternly, “Listen here you little punk when I tell you to get the petch out of here! You better high tail it out of here!” Solin crossed his arms, stared at him with a grin on his face, and said with a laugh, “Wow, you are either brave or stupid trying to intimate someone the knight stronghold. Go ahead and assault me. I doubt you will get to far before the knights arrest you, so do you want to make the deal or not? I don't have all day.” The oily haired man responded with hint of intelligence in his voice, “Kreagar, you need to control your temper this isn't Sunberth, and the boy isn't backing down, so I suggest you shut your mouth.” Solin tilted his head, grinned at the human, and said in the same even tempered voice, “I would listen to your oily haired friend, Kreagar this isn't Sunberth.” Kregar growled to himself, threw up his hands at the white haired man, and said trying to control his temper, “Fine you little shyke! You take Sarith lane.” Solin turned and walked to Sarith and said with a nod, “Sorry about the trouble...” The black haired man snorted at the kelvic and moved to the lane closest to the bald man.

When Solin got to his lane, he took off his sword scabbard and set down his composite short bow on the ground by him. When the excess weight was gone, he pulled out archery gloves and bracers from his quiver and put them on. When he was finished dressing, he picked up his bow with his left hand and retrieved a arrow from his quiver. He placed the missile on the bowstring and walked up to the shooting line. He felt a slight breeze hit his face coming from the west, and he could smell a slight tinge of salt water in the air. It was a nice smell, and he let the breeze calm his mind before he took his shot. When he was ready, he widen his stance and turned his head to the target. He lifted the bow till the tip of the arrow was aligned with center of the target. He pulled back the bowstring to his cheek, took a deep breath, and fired the hunting arrow on the exhale. Solin watched the arrow soar towards the target, but it veered right when a strong breeze hit it. The arrow soared right above the round target and hit the hay bale wall behind the target. Solin sighed to himself as he heard the loud obnoxious bald man laughing at him, “OK, I understand why you need the practice, boy that shot was terrible!”

Solin whirled around with a smile on his face and responded to the bald man's comment, “Yes, it was terrible wasn't it, but it was just a warm up shot, so let see if I can actually hit the target this time.” The kelvic retrieved another arrow from his quiver, and he stepped up to the line. Holding the bow in his left hand, he raised the bow up, so the tip of the arrow was lined up with the center of the target. Feeling the breeze hit the left side of his face, he pulled the bowstring back to his cheek, but he decided to move the tip of the arrow left of the bulls-eye. Feeling the muscles in his arm start to burn, he took a shallow breath and released on the exhale. Solin watched the arrow soar through the air at the target, and once again the arrow was veering right because of the wind, but when the missile struck the target, it hit the outer ring of the target on the right side of the bulls-eye. Solin looked at the arrow and evaluated his shot. It wasn't a bad shot, but he would have missed the target completely if he didn't adjust for the wind. Solin ran a hand through his hair and ignored the disparaging comments thrown in his direction by the obnoxious men to his left. He pulled out his next arrow, placed it on the bowstring, and waiting for the wind to die down before taking the next shot.

[Aoren]

A change of pace was in order for Aoren. He hadn't really spent much time in the city save for the hours he spent working under Mistress Blackleaf's tutelage. She had dismissed him early for the day as business was slow much as it always was during the Summer season. There were few people seeking ointments or poultices other than the routine ones that were always kept in stock. Salves for sunburn, bug bites and the occasional injury were the bulk of the orders being placed with the store. So he'd gone to his apartment and retrieved his quarterstaff. It was the only weapon he possessed other than his magic and he wasn't much in the mood to practice throwing fireballs or playing with the wind. Today his muscles were aching to be used. It had been days since his last exercise in martial combat or simply getting up to run or stretch.

So he'd decided to go some place new. A place where he could work up a good sweat. While he was partial to the quiet and solitude offered by the clearing he frequented in the Bronze Woods not terribly far outside of the city he thought it best to interact with some of the populace if only by simply being around them. He made his way to the Anthonius Fighter's Pit. A new addition to the city, the Fighter's Pit had already made a name for itself as being full of Knighthood rejects and would-be mercenaries looking to prove they were just as tough as the real protectors of the city. Aoren wouldn't typically go to a place like this but as he had never been but had heard a great deal about the Pit he was curious. It was a short walk from his apartment in the third tier to the exterior of the citadel in Winthrop Alley to where the Fighter's Pit was rumored to be located.

Once he was there it didn't take Aoren long to identify the Pit itself. A ruinous building that was intimidating as it was unimpressive. It wasn't so much the building itself that gave Aoren a bad feeling as the sounds of the people fighting inside of it. He could see some of them. Men lined up using what appeared to be either terribly worn out blades, rickety spears and dilapidated pieces of armor.

"What a rag tag bunch..." He should his head knowing that he would regret going to this place but he was already there. His curiosity got the better of him. He adjusted his grip on his quarterstaff then made his way into the Fighter's Pit. He got a few curt nods as he entered the dusty training area but was otherwise left alone. If there was one thing Aoren was thankful for it was the fact that he was a slightly intimidating figure himself. He was naturally a loner. That didn't stop him from sometimes wanting to at least be around people though. For the most part however, the fact that he towered over the majority of people and that he'd dedicated a great deal of his time to perfecting his body so that it might never be abused again was deterrent enough for the majority of would-be aggressors.

Aoren found a relatively empty part of the Fighter's Pit near the archery range. It was close enough that he could hear the grunts of frustration from the novice archers but far away enough that he wouldn't be shot by a stray arrow...at least that was what Aoren hoped. He eyed the people stepping up to the archery range. Two burly men who looked like they were more brawn than brain and a white haired boy that seemed to be giving them a hard time.

He shook his head but decided it would be better if he kept his nose out of it. For now. The boy looked to be no older than maybe fifteen or sixteen but if his mouth were about to get him into trouble Aoren wouldn't stop him. Some lessons could only be learned from experience. He rest his staff against the stones immediately behind where he stood. Aoren grasped the hem of his plain cotton shirt and pulled it over his head. The heat was bearing down on them all and for what he needed to do he didn't want to be inhibited by the weight of an unnecessary article of clothing. He set it on the broken wall next to his staff.

He took up a meditative stance then. His feet were shoulder width apart. His arms were clasped behind his back in a relaxed parade rest. He took a calming breath. With the intake he let the noise of the Fighter's Pit raise to crescendo in his ears. The clang of dull swords against equally notched and beaten shields. The shouting of an instructor barking orders at mediocre fighters. The raucous laughter of the two burly men poking fun at the white haired boy.

He let his breath out and with it all the noise seemed to fade into the background. He moved then. Aoren pivoted on one heel swung his arm out and felt the wood of his quarterstaff brush his fingers. He knocked it downward then caught the shaft of the staff with a sideswiped kick before the staff rolled to the tip of his foot where he kicked it upwards. Aoren caught the staff in one hand completing the maneuver by spinning the staff in a windmill like pattern before him. He planted the butt end of the staff into the dirt before tapping it with his foot. He twirled the staff before bending at the knees and rolling the staff over his shoulders catching it as it was about to drop onto the ground then swinging it in a wide arc.

In his mind Aoren was surrounded by enemies. He was facing down a group of five men all intent on causing him harm. He jut the end of his staff forward right into the gut of an imaginary foe before propelling himself forward with a leaping kick to the jaw. He twisted his torso swinging the quarterstaff outward in an arc over his head knocking away invisible blades aimed at his body. Aoren bounced one end of the staff on the ground allowing the reverberation to travel up the shaft without resistance. It caused the quarterstaff to jump out of his hand but Aoren was ready for that as it was an intentional part of the technique. He caught the nearest end of the staff and spun allowing the staff to swing outward. Three times he spun in rapid succession before planting the end of the staff and doing an assisted cartwheel into the air. He swung his legs upwards and outwards so that his torso twisted midair causing his body to shift so that he landed facing the archery range.

Aoren took a deep breath then. He'd worked up a good sweat doing such rapid maneuvers. He'd worked many years to learn how to compliment his quarterstaff fighting with his acrobatics. Often times he wouldn't succeed with those feats as they required a great deal of physical strength and balance but today it seemed the Goddess of Fate had smiled upon him as he pulled off each move almost flawlessly. By now he'd noticed there were several people staring at him with open mouths. He ignored their stares and went back to where he'd laid his shirt. He rest his quarterstaff on the stones before seating himself fluidly in the dirt.

Bringing his hands together he took another calming breath and began a brief stint of meditation. He only hoped that those meditations wouldn't be interrupted.

"Maybe I should have just gone to the clearing."

[/quote]

[Solin]

Eventually the wind started to die down in the pit, and Solin released the bowstring. The arrow soared towards the target and hit just above the middle ring above the bulls-eye. It was a good shot for his skill level, and Solin was pleased with himself by his performance, but he frowned to himself when he heard the burly man with bald head snort at his little victory and say bluntly, “The shot would have missed if you were aiming at the man's head, boy.” The black haired man responded with a jab of his own, “I think his hands were shaking to much from the pressure of us watching him, Kreagar” Solin knew self-control in the current situation was best, but a part of him wanted to knock the greasy haired man's teeth in for insulting him. However, Solin knew they were trying to pester him into a confrontation, so took a deep breath, he went to retrieve his arrows from the target. After he inspected them to see if they were chipped, cracked, or broken before he placed them into his quiver. When Solin made it back to the firing line, he gave a polite nod to them and said with a smirk, “It has been a pleasure meeting such fine folks as yourselves. Happy hunting to you both and may your arrows fly straight and true.” The bald man stared at the white haired boy and laughed out loud, “What the petch are you talking about, boy. Get going before I show you the back of my hand...” Solin glared at him for a tick, but the half smile appeared on his face once more as he turned and left the archery range.

Solin turned around and saw a lone human through the crowd practicing with his staff against imaginary targets. Solin knew it was a common technique used by various martial artists to visualize the battle field without actually in one, and he seemed seemed quite familiar with each of his drills. Also the kelvic could tell the human was physically built to be a warrior. By the way, he did his drills showed the man had equal grace to his power body. The kelvic figure it would be interesting to meet a man such as him because he didn't seem like he was born in Syliras either. Solin walked over to the weapon rack and picked up a dulled tulwar. Solin examined the blade and saw the sharp side of the sword was pitted and dented by wear, tear, and abuse over the years by the people of the pit. Solin gave a few practice swings to test its balance, and he felt the sword weight was equal distributive throughout the blade. Solin turned around and saw the human was in a state of meditation. He tilted his head in confusion trying to contemplate how the man could do it with all the distractions around him. He spent a chime or two deciding if he should interrupt him to see if he would like to spar, but he didn't want to make him angry either. Watching him a chime longer, Solin made his decision.

Walking up to the tattooed human, Solin stood their for a moment trying to figure out what he was trying to accomplish with his meditation before he asked with a smile on his face, “You must have the patience of a god to meditate in place like the Pit.” Solin sat cross legged in front of him and said with a smile, “I was curious if you would like to train to together. I saw you with your staff, and you were quite skilled with it.” He held up the pitted sword and said with a wrinkled nose, “I was trained with the tulwar in Riverfall, but I not really good with it, so I was curious if I could test my merger skill against you and your staff?” Solin spent all his life trying to figure out his place in the world, so he didn't mind sharing his strengths and weakness with people. It was a odd way to live life because most people tend to hide their weakness and flaunt their talents for all to see. On the other hand, Solin found personally clarity in his honesty, and he noticed the realization of his strength and weakness had made him a stronger person. Solin ran a hand through his long blond hair and asked with a smile, “My name is Solin Valhir. What is your name, friend?”

[Aoren]

The ridiculous amount of noise, chatter and bustle made it difficult for Aoren to enter his deeper meditative state. While to the observer he may seem to be tranquil and resolute internally he was struggling to find his concentration. It was only by the grace of Avalis that he had been able to pull off everything he’d done in his first routine. It was likely he wouldn’t be able to pull off that level of mastery a second time around. Not on that day at least. Not with so much around to distract him. He was far from capable of finding complete balance between his surroundings and his control over his weapon. As Aoren was just about to give up and call it a day in the Pit in favor of training somewhere less inundated with people he heard footsteps in his immediate vicinity.

“You must have the patience of a god to meditate in a place like the Pit.” Aoren opened his eyes to regard the young man he’d spotted earlier. He cracked half a smile and shook his head.

“Actually I’m having no luck at all.” He dropped his stoic meditative pose in favor of a more relaxed sitting stance. As the young man seated himself Aoren took stock of him. He had long flowing hair, a lithe build reminiscent of a wild runner instead of a true fighter, and a curious intelligence behind wide open eyes. To Aoren it seemed like he was inexperienced and naïve. However, appearances could be deceiving. Aoren had learned this lesson quite some time ago. He nodded as the boy spoke of Aoren’s skills with the quarterstaff and his own skills with the tulwar blade. The Drykas pondered for a moment as he considered the boy’s offer. It had been some time since he had taken on a sparring partner and though he wasn’t sure how his wooden quarterstaff would hold up against the steel of a tulwar blade he was certain that both of them could use the practice from the sound of it.

“You know…” He chewed on his bottom lip for a moment as he thought about sparring with the young man. After a moment’s deliberation he nodded. “I see no harm in it.” He extended a hand for the boy to shake.

“It is a pleasure to meet you, Solin. You may call me Aoren.” After the lad shook his hand Aoren hopped to his feet in more or less of a fluid movement. He grabbed his staff centering his grasp upon the shaft so that he could get a good feel for the balance. He then eyed the boy’s tulwar blade. It was pitted and dull. Hardly anything that could cause serious injury aside from bruising and broken bones. He was confident in the make of his staff that it wouldn’t break during their sparring and he was certain that he was at least skilled enough to avoid getting sliced open if he was attentive.

“How strong is your stance, Master Solin?”

OOCDeeply sorry for the long delay! Sorry for keeping you waiting!

[Solin]

Solin ran a hand through his hair and smirked when Aoren admitted his mistake of trying to meditate in the Pit. It wasn't the most tranquil place in Syliras, and he wondered to himself if the human was religious or a least spiritual with his practice in mediation. Unlike the tattooed human, Solin was a pretty down to Mizahar kind of kelvic, so he didn't put to much faith in either magic or the gods. However, lately after his mercenary job in the Bronze Woods, the kelvic was starting to rethink his stance on the whole idea of religion. Aoren seemed like the type of man who knew his place in the world unlike Solin who seemed to struggle with his station in life. This conflict weight heavily on his heart even if he tried not to show it. However as of late, he had started to second guess or think most of his decisions. When the Aoren said yes to the spar, the kelvic said with another smile, “Excellent! Now lets see if I can give you a sweat.” Solin walk to his position, and he noticed out of the corner of his eye, The two thugs from the archery range were watching them now. He wasn't quite sure if he should be worried or not, but he decided to them out of his mind and focused all his attention on Aoren.

When the Aoren stood up and shook his hand, Solin followed him into the fighting ring. The kelvic had no illusion of grandeur that he could defeat the human with his meager skills with his tulwar, but he will try his best not to make a fool of himself in front of everyone. When the kelvic took position in front of Aoren, he never faced a man with a staff in combat, so he would have to learn how the human fights with the staff, so he could learn how to defeat similar opponents in the future. When Aoren asked about his stance, Solin wasn't quite sure how to respond because he learned from his instructor in Riverfall. With the quick moments of the sword, the stance will changed depending on the situation. The sword style was all about positioning and out thinking your opponent. Solin tied his long hair back with some twine and said with a short laugh, but his eyes told a different story that he was confident in his abilities, “It is strong enough not blown over by a gust of wind and agile enough to sway in the breeze like a reed.” Solin instructor told him even the strongest wind can blow down the thickest tree, but a reed in the river can withstand both the strongest gust and the gentlest breeze.

With one hand, Solin easily lifted the sword up, so the sword hilt was by his temple and his left hand was out in front of him. Solin gave Aoren a intense look and said with a smile, “Shall we begin, Master Aoren.” Solin immediately started to side step to his left as he tried to out position his opponent. The kelvic knew his fighting style primarily centered on opportunity and reading his opponents movement, so at the moment, he was at a disadvantaged because he was on attack. As he continued side stepping, he noticed the staff had a much longer reach than his tulwar, so he needed to take away his length advantage somehow. Finally, he made his move forward slicing a wide arch towards the front of his opponents chest, but during the swing, he sided stepped to the left with the swing. It wasn't the flashest move, but he wanted Aoren to react, so he could continue the Dance of Dira with Aoren.

[Aoren]

Upon entering the ring with Solin the first thing that Aoren noticed about the boy was his uncertain footing. He was a novice with his blade that was obvious to the Drykas. There was no doubting it. That was not to say that Aoren was significantly much better with his quarterstaff but he had at least a year or two's worth of experience to give him the basest of certainty over motion with the blunt weapon.

Aoren gave Solin a slight bend at the waist as a form of formal acknowledgement that they were about to spar. He had always found that if one was respectful during their encounter with a training partner that tended to soothe the sting of bumps and bruises that much more. It was a lesson he had learned the hard way after working with a departed friend. He recalled briefly his first meeting with that individual in a clearing in the Bronze Woods. The comedic misunderstanding that ensued was one of his fondest memories. Now, however, was not the time to reminisce on past experiences.

Aoren focused on Solin. The Drykas spread his legs shoulder-width apart. He dropped his knees slightly so that he could elevate one end of the quarterstaff above his head while leaving the other pointed toward the ground. This stance provided the most coverage for his body. He would be able to react quickly and effective to most frontal assaults with precise parry if need be. When Solin began to side-step Aoren did not move from his place in the ring. Rather, he twisted his stance so that he was continually facing the boy head-on. He neither retreated nor advanced that way he could observe the boy's movements and gain insight into his fighting style a bit more easily.

When the slash with the tulwar came Aoren deflected the blade by knocking it aside with the shaft of his quarterstaff. The parry was quickly followed by a deft side-step in order to keep the boy firmly in the center of his field of view. Whereas the boy had feinted left, Aoren had moved further to the right in order to avoid Solin's follow through. It was then that Aoren's stance changed. He swung up one end of the quarterstaff abandoning his usually defensive tendencies in favor of a more aggressive fighting style.

He whirled the staff releasing his hold on it briefly as it swung into place. Aoren was holding it much like one would hold a javelin but rather than flinging the quarterstaff like one would a spear he grasped the end nearest to his body and jut forward aiming for Solin's side and one of his lower ribs.

OOCAnd now we get to the fun!

[Radiant]

Aoren :

Experience

Skill	XP Earned
Observation	+1 XP
Rhetoric	+1 XP
Meditation	+1 XP
Weapon: Quarterstaff	+2 XP
Acrobatics	+1 XP
Tactics	+1 XP

Lores

Lore Earned

Location: Anthonius Fighter's Pit

Solin: Acquaintance

Loots

Notes :

Not much I could give since it's abandoned, Aoren, but enjoy your grades!

Just a note, Aoren is still a novice in both Acrobatics and Quarterstaff so you should play his difficulties more when he done those complex combat maneuvers.

My radiance is not bright enough?

If you have any questions or concerns regarding your grade, beam me a PM and we can work it out.