Completed The Practical Application. Crystal Elephants (Roderick)

[Bolivar]

A fistful of the man's outfit in his hand Bolivar gave his usual unwavering glare as if he did not see Roderick's reaction. The man's own hand caught the squire's wrist but that did not stop Bolivar from pulling him down to the squire's level. Once again Roderick's perception was spot on and once again he acted without prior thought. "I'm not here for your entertainment whelp." The squire's right hand held his axe while his left kept Roderick in place. This was not the first time this has happened to the squire. Always having to deal with an unruly sort the squire knew what was coming next. "I have a rule I live by Syliran. You leave me and my city alone, I leave you alone. You don't, I don't." Bolivar left hand shook with rage as he could feel the djed waiting to be released. Odd that Roderick was able to tell his heritage just from his hand but fail to notice the marks of a reinmancer. A wind blast from this close would settle the issue pretty handily. Perhaps even try something new with water or ice and over do it. The thought went as quickly as it came while clenching the man's armor tighter before pulling him lower. "Last warning." Not waiting even a tic later having said that Bolivar thrust his head at the offending face. Chin, nose, eyes being the usual targets. What only mattered was for his head to move fast and forward. No need for an elaborate wind up or countdown, he had Roderick where he wanted after all. The move would at least give him enough allowance to free his left hand to help guide the hilt of his axe straight at Roderick's chest just like he had practiced. Looking to finish the conflict before Roderick realized what was going on the squire would simply shout mindlessly at him to "STAY DOWN! STAY DOWN! DON'T MOVE!" if all went well. Everything from the man's first few words to the man's lack of respect lead Bolivar act as such. How was that for butting heads?

[Roderick]

With a handful of his shirt in hand, the squire tugged Roderick down so he was bent double, their faces meeting, breath mixing together in a foul cocktail of dead air. "I'm not here for your entertainment whelp." Unbidden, a grin rose to the hunter's lips, spreading across his features "Whelp? Have you looked in a mirror lately?" Roderick's words hid the fact his mind was racing, and helped to keep his body from shaking all over from the adrenaline his raging heart was flooding him with. The half-blood's fist shook angrily - and his other held the blasted axe, the weapon ready to slice flesh and crush bone. One hit with that thing and Roderick would be in for a lot of trouble. Things were spiraling out of control now, and the hunter knew that his best bet was to extract himself from the situation as quickly as he could. No use getting into a fight over nothing. Pulling the him even lower, the squire spoke again, "Last warning." The suddenness with which the half-blood thrust his face towards the hunter's was startling. It was also incredibly vicious and forceful from such a small man. Moving back and to the side, the attack missed - barely, connecting slightly with the hunter's jaw - and Roderick quickly shoved forwards with his hands, putting as much force as he could muster into it, aiming to knock the squire away. Stepping back quickly to put distance between himself and the other man, Roderick didn't reach for his dagger; he doubted he'd beat the squire in combat. "Why don't you take that axe of yours and stick it up your arse!" he snapped hotly.

[Bolivar]

A mild scuffle followed with another retort from the man occurred from the squire's scheme. The squire's switch already turned on marched towards Roderick with the clear intent to bring him down. Though Bolivar did not hear exactly what was said from Roderick the squire was able to recognize the underlying tone from his words. Which much to his joy sounded very different when he had called the mixed blood short. A few steps forward turned into measured strides as Bolivar laid out the groundwork for a clean takedown maneuver. Gripping his axe near the haft with his right hand with his left steadying the weapon near the middle Bolivar aimed a swing far behind where Roderick stood. Words were wasted on that man and bringing him would probably be a public service thought the squire. oocCare to take the initiative here? I imagine this will be more of the same if you just keep reacting.

[Roderick]

After their slight scuffle the air seemed to be even more tense. Even though he showed no clear sign of it, Roderick knew the squire would take great pleasure in turning his head into a red ruin. The Knighthood would probably disapprove of doing something like that for such a small crime, though, so the squire would probably opt for a less lethal course of action. The squire marched forward, eyes steeled and weapon readied in both hands; he seemed deaf to what the hunter was saying. With a few strides he drew near, building up momentum as his axe came hurtling through the air, aimed for the hunter's ribs. Deciding quickly between bruised ribs and bruised pride, the hunter quickly dropped down to his knees to avoid the attack. Hearing the axehead cutting air above him, Roderick stayed on his knees and watched as his opponent finished his swing and began preparing the next move he would make. Heart pounding madly inside, the Zeltivan held his hands as he rose to his feet and took a step back, "Easy squire." He took another step back. "I'll stop talking if you stop swinging that thing at me. Deal?" In his experience, it was best to avoid fights with people who were good with weapons. Cowardice? Maybe, but he'd rather be alive and cowardly than dead and brave. Roderick did not plan to die in the middle of a field because of something he'd said. Keeping his hands up, the hunter gestured for the squire to lower his weapon, hop,ing the man would go along with it "What's the point of this? Are you really going to smash my ribs in because I was cheeky with you? If that's what you're planning you'd best go round up every other snarky bugger in Mizahar and bury your axe in their head." Making the gesture again, "I didn't come here for a fight, alright? If you got that impression, then I'm sorry - there, I said it; sorry. Now put that away and maybe we can talk this through," then again talking had gotten him into this mess; he doubted the squire would entertain him anymore - not that he ever had, "Y'now what? I'll just go, eh? You can get back to doing whatever the hell you want." Another step back. He was ready to bolt, "So how about it?" OOCCowardly? Sure - but I never said he was brave

[Bolivar]

As the axehead flew towards Roderick Bolivar's left guide shifted towards the haft of the axe. His opponent had enough sense to duck the blow but had yet to move out of the way. Giving a sharp pull halfway through the swing Bolivar followed the standard swipe with another standard move out of the axe repertoire; the hook. The aim was to catch an unsuspecting opponent from behind and hopefully injure a rib or ligament along the way. Luckily for Roderick the move warranted the squire to watch his opponent closely while doing it. So as Bolivar watched his opponent suddenly go prone managed to avert his axe from catching the man's head on the return trip. Bolivar's weapon may have been dulled down but it was sharp enough to catch a few hairs on Roderick's head as the squire returned the axe to a rest. Gripping his axe at it's head with it's right and letting his left idle at the waist Bolivar assumed the same stance he had while talking. Matching each step back from Roderick with a step forward on his own Bolivar found himself glaring at the man who insisted on addressing him as a squire. Had he not denied such a title earlier? Perhaps that threat of dragging him down to the tank was enough? But if that was the case why did he continue? And why did he assume he was a squire? What was the differences between a knight and squire? The armor? Knights walked around in their common wear when not donning the usual armor. Perhaps there was more to being a knight then the squire originally though? His focus centered back on Roderick who was in the midst of criticizing him once again. Good idea. I can start with you. "You broke your own deal not even five tics later. Why would I demean myself agreeing to your terms." He was but a frightened child in Bolivar's eyes. Narrow-minded, incredibly aggravating and immediately looking for a way out as soon as it got serious. Roderick's less then sincere apology was almost insulting to the mixed blood's ears but reassured himself that it was an improvement. Rambling on and on Bolivar once again noted the tone from Roderick's voice as he dismissed the man's offer and countered with his own. "Now this is how that will play out. You run. I stop you. I break your leg. You spend the night in the tank." Feeling that this was the time to make use of his other abilities Bolivar raised his left hand from his waist. The djed that the squire consistently had on hand surged forth from it's resting searing pain shot through the squire's hand at the display. Contorting his face from the sudden output of res Bolivar blew out a practiced breathe watching Roderick take another step back. It seemed the man was on the verge of running away and trying to evade arrest. Readying his res in a ball in front of him Bolivar watched Roderick's before setting his before gripping his axe with both hands using it as a focus. "Still thinking about running? By all means. Make my day."

[Roderick]

Taking in the squire's counteroffer Roderick nodded slowly to himself, letting his heart slowly calm down and sink away into a growing hole in his chest. He felt all the fear vanishing as he became numb all over. Roderick heard the blood pounding in his ears as his foe raised his hand and drew forth a supply of djed, slowly pulling it free into the air above him. The pain of the maneuver was clear of the mage's face; as his features twisted the hunter began to back away again. As the squire finished his preparations the Zeltivan found himself standing right next to the horse; he exchanged a look with it and then returned his gaze to the squire. "Still thinking about running? By all means. Make my day." Running wouldn't help him much if the squire caught him; he did not doubt the man would fulfill the promise he'd just made and break Roderick's leg in two. His work demanded he be in good shape though and having a crippled leg would make earning a living a great trial for him. A bit of pride surfaced too, and he hated the idea of giving in this quickly without at least trying to get away from all of this without facing punishment. His earlier antics burnt his chest as they replayed over in his mind. With the decision between staying and being locked away in the tank, and fleeing and possibly escaping, the hunter weighed his choices, faced down his would-be captor and felt his heart stop in his chest as he finally made his decision. Petch it. He turned and ran. Boots pounding on the dirt he hurtled away from the field, away from the mage. If he could put enough distance between them he could escape the range of the man's abilities; having a Reimancer for a mother had it's perks. As his feet carried him away from the field and back towards the city he started to question if that was the best course; most likely the man would call on the knights and Roderick's flight would have been for nothing - a wasted effort. That in mind the hunter veered away from his former path, instead angling himself towards the treeline off in the distance. Chances are he wouldn't have to go that far - but then again the squire had a horse. Somehow his feet carried him faithfully, avoiding the obstacles that were strewn about the place; branches and rocks and uneven paving stones. Ducking down under a hedgerow he continued fleeing, lungs burning and threatening to betray him at any minute. He couldn't stop. He wouldn't. Grinding his teeth he growled in pain and forced himself to move faster, to take that extra step. The hunter's legs were longer than that of his pursuer, while he was unladen by any extra baggage; the mage had an axe to heft along, as well as djed to channel, while the Zeltivan only had to worry about the weight of his armour - which wasn't very much. Reaching a fork in the path he ran off to the right, then cut through some bushes and kept on running. The wood drew ever closer - as did his foe, he imagined. Burning again as his lungs began to heave, drained of air. He sucked down what air he could as he ran, the wind slamming against his face and leaving him half blind. Was this really how low he'd fallen? It seemed the squire had spoken some truth; the way he'd acted had caused this. He angrily shoved those thoughts aside. The squire had caused all this. Sure, Roderick had done a little to aggravate things, but it had been the mage who had taken the first swing. Everything that followed had been because of that damned squire. Any sane man would have kept his hate to himself, avoiding and ignoring the man from then on. Instead the hunter decided he was going to get the better of the squire, though the exact means weren't entirely clear to him just then. I'll get myself a sword and start training again. Yes, that would help some, Then I'll find something to dull that magic of his. If he met the squire again he would stand his ground. For today he'd focus on getting away with all his body parts intact. Slowing down rapidly, his boots clapped noisily against the ground as he finally came to a stop and listened; the birds were the only sounds around him, and it was then that he knew the squire had probably given up on the chase. Starting off again at a determined march, Roderick set his eyes on the Wood. He'd wait for his blood to cool before he returned to the city.

[Bolivar]

Peering from above his axehead Bolivar was already finding himself in the battle mindset watching Roderick before him. A quick rhythm played in his head as he juggled between how to use his reimancy and how he would chase Roderick down if needed. Then would have been the better time to take the initiative he realized as Roderick turned to try and evade him. Pointing out the axehead towards him with just his right arm Bolivar took aim at the fleeing Roderick. A loud sound could be heard over Roderick's shoulder as Bolivar directed his res to attract the winds around him. A great place and time to be there as the lingering winds near the open field came to assist Bolivar in his cause. Not spending anymore time on a hard blast Bolivar zero'd in on Roderick who seemed to be giving an honest effort in his retreat. The squire had time, his range of reimancy was more then several meters in length now and as his face revealed a vicious smile before releasing his res at Roderick. Watching the simple ball of djed shoot towards Roderick as fast as the winds would take it Bolivar went for his axe for the final motion. Just as his ball of res was outside of his field of influence Bolivar gave a hard upswing with his axe to guide his attack. One moment later the ball of djed jumped to mirror the movement guiding it's way to Bolivar's intended target. Aiming to plant a decent impression on Roderick's butt Bolivar watched as almost stagger to make it to the woods safe. Shrugging slightly Bolivar's attention went to the res he was still channeling out over his left hand. Staunching the flow as he grasped the remaining tightly until it agitated the mixed blood's skin. Soon the burning agitating feeling he felt in his hand felt hard and cold. He had formed a shard of ice in his hand yet it was too late to make any use of it. Roderick and any form of target practice had already disappeared into the Bronze woods and with it any chance of finding a use for his ice reimancy today. A shudder went through his system, like how a jolt of realization felt, realizing that he was reaching the limits of his on hand djed. Breathing out in resignation Bolivar's eyes went to his horse wondering if he should have gave chase. "Well while it is fine to defend myself, it is another thing to chase some fool down through the woods 'defending myself'." Giving a quick swing with his axe Bolivar contemplated his hilt blow follow up before directing the shard of ice off in one direction. Giving an inarticulate grunt at it's relative speed shrugged at the effort. Ice was much heavier to move then air so how would one be able to use it effectively? The answer which seemed so simple was just within the squire's grasp. Just another few intricate display practiced twenty or thirty time back to back. " *Meh* You would think there would be another way huh?" Looking at his horse Bolivar stared back blankly at the offending look given to him by his horse. Shrugging slightly Bolivar bent over to pick up his glove off the ground and was soon back on track home. His horse stepping over the ice shard along the way Bolivar looked back on the field. Wet patches the size of a small horse littered every corner of the once dry field. "Quite a sight if watched from afar huh? Perhaps I should practice somewhere less conspicuous." oocposted this up for grading. Go ahead and get any last words in if you want.

[Radiant]

Bolivar :

Experience

Skill	XP Earned
Observation	+2 XP
Weapon: Axe	+1 XP
Rhetoric	+2 XP
Socialization	+2 XP
Intimidation	+1 XP
Brawling	+1 XP
Reimancy	+1 XP

Lores

Lore Earned

Roderick: Acquaintance

Roderick: Bumbling Fool

Roderick: Cowardly Human

"Sparring" With Roderick

Loots

-6 Shield Points

Roderick :

Experience

Skill	XP Earned
Observation	+2 XP
Rhetoric	+2 XP
Socialization	+2 XP
Persuasion	+1 XP
Running	+1 XP

Lores

Lore Earned

Bolivar: Acquaintance

Bolivar: Pompous Squire

Bolivar: Half-Isurian Mage

"Sparring" With Bolivar

Loots

Notes :

Amusing! Hahaha! Enjoy your grades, guys!

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.