Solo A Fighter's Fundamentals

[Keene Ward]

The twelfth day of winter 514 AV

When Keene woke, his body still ached. His hands stung as he shifted them, the raw skin brushing against his mattress sending pain shooting up through his left arm, eliciting a wince as he pulled the hand away. Immediately after, the bruises on his ribs reminded him that the day before had not left him unmarked. Easing into a seated position, Keene blinked in the darkness, taking account of his injuries and finding they were not so severe he couldn't get up and get dressed. Having gotten quite good at maneuvering in the darkness of his own room, he cautiously stumbled over the pile of still wet clothes to find a fresh pair of pants and one of his remaining tunics. Pulling the breeches with a ginger use of the tips of his fingers, Keene slid his legs into them, gritting his teeth as the fabric slid over his skin. While it wasn't uncomfortable, he found that the sensation was something he wasn't fond of lingering on. He slid the shirt on as he padded towards the flicker of light that led to the main cavern. Having woken of his own volition, his mind was not nearly as groggy as it could have been. He clearly remembered the promise of a conversation when he woke - one he wasn't looking forward to.

As he stepped into the main cavern, however, Atziri stood in the sand in a loose shirt and leather leggings, her breath leaving in short bursts as she struck at the air with her feet and hands, little wisps of flame trailing behind her movements. When she noticed his entrance, she stopped, wiping her brow and motioning him over. "Disrobe, Initiate." Keene frowned, but he didn't question her. Gingerly removing his shirt and pants, he folded them over the back of one of the chairs before approaching. Atziri stared down at him, her eyes flicking over the wounds on his hands and arms and the darkened areas of his chest. "Join me." Keene stepped onto the sand, the smooth grain of the granules pressing against the bare skin of his feet. "Arms up. Good." He took a stance similar to the one he often saw Atziri using on of the off chance he caught her practicing in the sand. Elbows held near the ribs and fists somewhere near the chin. Atziri took her own stance, her body relaxing into the pose as easily as if she were standing. "Ready?"

"For wh-" Atziri's fist moved forward at a speed just slow enough for Keene to shift his head out of the way. A follow up strike came in the form of a roundhouse that Keene was fully aware of, however his momentum kept him from getting out of the way in time. Her fist connected with a solid hit, though it was more of a surprising contact than any true sort of pain.

"Block it next time, Keene." A small ember burned in her gaze as she regarded him. He nodded, putting his hands back into their proper position. Instead of waiting for her to take the first move, he lunged forward, the pain in his ribs uttering a small protest. He darted his fist forward, using the extent of his abilities, as he figured the other woman was well versed enough in her chosen form of combat to be able to handle the totality of his effort. He was right, of course. She knocked his arm aside - the sensation of the strike dulled by his unfeeling arm of choice -, using his momentum to step to the side to let him pass before batting him on the back of the head. He stumbled forward a few paces, but wasted no time in whirling around in an attempt to follow up with a left hook. His arcing arm was stopped by her forearm, his arm bouncing off of hers and sending a shiver of pain across his broken skin. She followed up with a quick step in, wrapping her fingers around his throat. The sudden contact cause him to shout out in surprise, which surprised the woman enough that he was able to stumble backwards a few steps before falling to the ground.

The impact sent a dull throb through his chest, and the sand ran against the half-healed cuts with a rough sting. Atziri stared down at him, concern on her face as she regarded her student. "What happened yesterday?" Keene pushed himself to his feet, his breath a bit heavier than before. Shaking his head to remove the rush of panic he'd felt, he raised his hands once more.

"I fought." He jabbed forward, this time not fully committing and letting his fist shoot out and pull back through the empty air as they began to circle each other.

"The long version, Keene." Atziri stepped towards him, a jab of her own directed at the middle of his face. Again, she moved at a reduced rate, allowing him time to both see what she was doing and adjust himself to handle it. He chose to step back, which she followed by stepping through with a jab of the other hand. Attempting to do what she had done with his arm before, Keene waved his mirrored left at the incoming fist, knocking it to the side but wincing as the bone beneath his skin cracked against Atziri's. She took a step back. "Better."

"A man and his slave-" Keene darted forward, trying an uppercut with his numbed right hand. Instead of dodging it, Atziri just slapped his head.

"Defend and attack."

The strike had disoriented him and removed what potency he had had with his initial strike as he pulled his fast back towards his chin. "They were walking, and I saw them." His eyes scanned Atziri's movements, unable to read anything beyond a split second before she advanced. It was unnerving to be so unsure of what she was going to do, and it made doing anything more than circling a risk he wasn't sure he wanted to take. "When they refused to leave, they attack-" Atziri moved forward, her fist moving in a wide roundhouse. Keene rose an arm to defend, but found that as his arm shook under the light impact, Atziri had moved her other arm in an upper cut. Unable to do anything but brace himself, Keene moved his free hand to protect his face as the fist pressed into his forearm. Staggering back as Atziri backed off some, Keene shook his hands out some, the sting of his cuts partially forgotten by the fight at hand. Sinking back into his stance, Keene cautiously shuffled forward. "And I killed them." He made several jabs that were knocked aside before he stepped back out of range of her immediate attacks. "Now I am here." Atziri, in a burst of speed, surprised him as she dashed up to him, her hands moving to quickly slap him on either side of his head in quick succession before she drew back. The attack had been too fast for his sluggish motions to react to, and he stood blinking and bit dazed.

"Is there anything else you want to tell me about, Keene?" It was an earnest question, but one that Keene already new the answer to. Trying to imitate Atziri's charge, Keene pushed himself forward, a small amount of sand kicked up by his reckless approach. He jabbed at her, his fist brushing off of her blocking arm as she slapped him on the head again, letting his momentum carry him past her as she stepped out of the immediate trajectory. Turning around to face his opponent once more, Keene shook his head.

"No."

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[Keene Ward]

Atziri pressed him then, a rapid succession of strikes at his head and arms as she shuffled forward, forcing him farther back. He saw no opening, crouching behind his arms like a shield as she battered him into submission. When she drew back, her breath moving at a steady rate, Keene's own haggard breathing marked a stark contrast between the two of them. He advanced, swinging his arms at her but finding his attacks brushed aside and getting rewarded with another slap to his head. He clenched his jaw, attempting the same tactic yet again. Atziri knocked his first arm aside and moved to slap him again, but this time Keene ducked and jabbed at the woman's stomach. His fist was knocked aside by her unoccupied arm, but it had saved him yet another increasing frustrating strike to his head. He drew back, arms raised and eyes calculating. Atziri gave him a short nod, a little smile playing at her lips. "Are you sure?"

"I'm-" She took a few steps towards him, but his retreat wasn't fast enough to out of range before her hand jabbed out to slap him lightly on the cheek.

"What was that, Initiate?" Even if Keene had not been able to see the grin that curved to woman's lips, he would have heard it in her tone. With a small grunt of effort, he sung a fist at her, expecting her to block. Instead, she did what he had done, ducking beneath it and jabbing at his stomach with a few fingers and enough force to send him staggering back a few steps. His eyes leveled with hers: the cool grey against the fiery glint of the Warden's.

"I'm sh-" Atziri's rapid side step out of his jab followed up by several slaps to his back sending him stumbling forward interrupted his second attempt at a reply. Wobbling to keep his balance as he turned, Keene clenched his fists as he regarded her. His ribs ached from panting with the effort to keep up with his master, but it was dulled by his focus. He wanted to hit her at least once. Another charge and several more evasions let him wheezing on the other side of the mini-arena. Unwilling to give up, Keene tried to focus on speed, fast jabs in quick succession similar to what Atziri had done earlier. The result was something like flailing with the interspersed sound of his opponent's hands smacking against the skin of his cheeks or thumping on his hair covered head.

Again, Atziri asked, "Nothing at all?" Realizing that he could stop the fight if he conceded to not telling her everything, Keene shook his head. Instead of speaking, he lunged forward, fists clenched and held in the position near his face. As he moved, however, his anticipation to block moved the hands directly in front of his face where the figured they would be more ready to deflect or subdue one of Atziri's attacks. Instead, she held up an anchored forearm, allowing him to crash into it and send both fists into his own face. The shift in momentum knocked him from his feet as they continued onwards while his torso hit the ground with a thud. Atziri stood above him, a challenging curl of her lips as she regarded him. "No?"

Keene coughed, the forceful exhalation of air a less gentle reminder that the bruises were still there. He stared up at her, blinking back the natural wetness of the eyes that came with pain, and sighed. "Fine."

Atziri offered a hand to him, which he refused, choosing instead to struggle to his feet by his own strength. "I thought there might be." The jocular taunting nature of her tone had faded, the more serious and business-like voice returning. "What happened?"

He took a few moments to respond, the rush of air into and out of his lungs a sound based expression of his weariness that he also wore in a thin film of sweat that had begun to sting where it seeped into the cuts on his arm. He gazed down at one that was particularly biting and realized he'd started to bleed again. Turning his attention from the minor wound back to the woman's question, Keene frowned. "He was too close. I..." He let his voice trail off. He could feel the man's breath on his neck and the taste of his tongue on his lips. Shaking his head, Keene finished, his breathy voice softer than usual. "I couldn't think."

Atziri didn't say anything for a chime or so as she studied him with an appraising gaze. When she did speak, there was no sympathy or pity, only a factual steadiness. "Then we're going to have to work on your pathetic fighting." Keene blinked unsure how to respond but decided to go with a curt nod. From the few chimes they'd been fighting, he'd been unable to land a single hit - and he was fully aware Atziri had been going easy on him. Her solution, however, was sensible. If he could defend himself from a close range attacker without having to rely on reimancy, it increased his odds of survival by an impressive amount. She seemed to think so as well, as she motioned he mirror her stance. While he didn't find the use of his fists as the most appealing mode of melee combat, he supposed that it was by far the most efficient and convenient. Weapons only hampered his ability to form the proper gestures to cast. If he could properly learn to fight with his bare hands, it would only serve to compliment his preformed habits, rather than having to start from the ground up. "Bend your knees more, Initiate."

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[Keene Ward]

She walked around him him, tapping his elbows and hands when they rose or fell to high as he held the position. He flinched against her touch, but she kept the contact brief and to the point. After a few chimes of holding still according to Atziri's directions, Keene's arms began to ache from more than just the wounds from the day before. The meticulous bend of his knees had begun to wear on him as well, his legs just beginning to shake. Having no indication that he was released and no further tasks given, Keene set his jaw and stared straight ahead, focusing on one of the tongues of flame that lolled about the top of the candles on the table. "Don't drift, Keene." He felt a pressure under his right elbow, pushing it up from where it had dropped some. He nodded, choosing instead to focus on the swirl of his djed, the matter that made him who he was. He could feel it, tensed and coiled where his arms bent, looser where he was more relaxed. It was strange to feel his djed in that way, the essence of his being and its close knit relationship to his body. He felt his shoulders tense some to make up for the perceived increase in weight of his arms as the exercise continued, making the adjustment before Atziri could tap him. "Better."

He let his breath come in a slow, easy rhythm, in through the nose and out through the mouth. The exercise had been one Mella had suggested he use for meditation, and he figured a meditative state would help ease the strain of his muscles. Atziri continued to circle him, her eyes steady and searching for any mistakes. "Hands up." Keene made the adjustment. He could feel the sweat from earlier beginning again, and found the idea that holding a single pose for an elongated amount of time might cause his physical distress was certainly a testament to his lack of fitness. He tried to keep his mind on his own body, but as the chimes drew on, it began to wander. His skin still remembered the sensation of Scipio's skin against his own, the slick of sweat and the searing pain that he knew to be only in his mind. His breathing became irregular as the memories gained momentum. His skin crawled with disgust as he felt the man's hot breath, inhaled his scent, and then- "Keene!" His waking nightmare broken by his master's sudden shout. She shook her head, "Take a break."

He nodded, not needing to be told twice. He staggered over to one of the chairs and slumped into it, his body shaking from the effort of enduring what he had initially believed to be a simple stance combined with the residual fear that still gnawed at the back of his mind. He refused to allow himself to fall to debilitation by nothing more than thought, but he was finding whether he deigned to accept it or not, it was happening anyway. He clenched his teeth and stared down at the floor, doing his best to keep his hands relaxed as the partially healed cuts still stung if he strained the skin. He let the rhythm of his breathing calm him some, ignoring the looming figure of his master beside him as she watched. It took a few chimes, but eventually he was back in control, the panic pressed down deep into his subconscious and held by force of will. He'd underestimated how terrifying the event had been. It was too recent to dwell upon, so instead he'd tried to crush it up and stuff it as far away from conscious thought as he could. As he let out a final sigh and straightened up, his gaze met with Atziri's, the woman regarding him in a relaxed but concerned posture.

"I'm fine." Keene moved to stand, but Atziri held up a hand to keep him where he was.

"You don't look fine, Keene."

He frowned, reevaluating the situation. "I will be fine then." And he would be, he just required time to fully repress the fear. It wasn't the first time he'd had to do so, and he wasn't about to let it get the best of him. The event's recency, however, did make it a bit more difficult to deal with. Atziri did not seem convinced, but she didn't stop him from rising a second time. "I would like to continue, if you would allow it." She frowned but did not deny him his request. Instead, she gestured back towards the sand pit, and Keene obliged. As he dipped down into the stance, Atziri began to walk around him again, watching him. This time, however, she did not remain silent, but instead began to instruct him, tapping any part of him that faltered.

"Magic is a powerful force, Initiate, but it can only do as much as you are able to do." A light rap on his shoulders forced him to relax out of the shrug he'd slowly been adopting without thinking. "A Warden trains mind, body, and soul; we are strong in every aspect of the word." She pushed against one of his arms, knocking Keene's hand into his face before he pushed back to hold his stance. The sudden contact startling, but Keene's determination to remain in control kept him steady besides the rush of goosebumps down his skin. "To falter in one is to falter in all three." She pushed again, this time with her foot against his leg. Having watched her carefully, Keene was prepared and remained resolute against the added force, gritting his teeth against the feeling of her skin against his own. "Our strength lies in our versatility and our creativity." She placed a hand on his shoulder, but the sensation of touch did not meet his senses. Instead there was a slight flash of red before her fingers curled around his shoulder, and Keene stared at it with a perplexed knit of the brow for a beat before he realized she'd shielded herself against his skin.

"Clever."

She grinned. "And so should you be as well, Initiate."

.

[Keene Ward]

As time progressed, Atziri began to explain different positions his body should become accustomed to. The neutral stance with bent knees and hands up allowed for quick and easy access to a multitude of blocks and dodges. There were enough that Keene had to think to move into them, the specific positions having no names aside from Atziri's rhythmic, "And switch." which signaled he moved to a new stance. At the moment, Keene stooped in a crouch, a quick duck for slow moving, sweeping attacks. Once Atziri had him change, he popped up, shifting into a stance with his right shoulder forward to minimize his exposed targets. "Right hook." Keene shoved his forward arm slightly to his left, blocking the invisible limb. "Good, switch." He hesitated, unsure of where to move to. Atziri took up a stance with the left foot forward, which Keene was quick to copy. He held it for a while before Atziri nodded, letting him drop his aching arms and straighted his strained legs.

It was strange to feel his body grow weary from something other than hiking, and in a way it was a good sort of feeling. He'd never really seen much of a point in training the body very far beyond "not sickly", but there was something about strenuous and taxing physical activities that gave him a bit of a rush. It was similar to excitement or motivation, though neither really truly fit with the sensation of expending energy in the fashions that he had over the course of the past season. "Take a few chimes and get some water, Keene. When you get back, we're going to practice some strikes." It seemed the training was not quite yet finished, and as he made his way back towards his room to fetch his water flask, Keene ran over the stances in his head over and over again. The training was good for keeping his mind focused on the task at hand now that his minor breakdown had been pushed aside. There wasn't much to remember in terms of quantity but as Atziri had explained, he was meant to train his muscles to remember the positions so they could react reflexively. It was a similar concept to his gestures. He'd worked long and hard on them until he felt a natural connection to his res in a way that allowed him to direct the flow without it feeling forced.

As he returned, drawing out a few mouthfuls of refreshing water from the flask, he watched as Atizi stood still in the middle of the sand, eyes closed and breathing controlled. Keene capped the flask and set it on the table, striding over, still in his smallclothes. He waited until her eyes opened, a small grin spreading over her face. "Ready to beat up your master, Keene?" She chuckled, ignoring Keene's blank stare. Even if he struck her as hard as he could repeatedly, he seriously doubted she would ever be in the position of being "beat up". Taking his place in the sand, Keene put up his fists. "Good. Now step forward and use that momentum to carry your fist." He did so, stretching out his front leg into a wide lunge and extended his fist. Before his hand hit, Atziri burst into laughter. Keene withdrew, a confused frown on his face. He'd followed her instructions, but from the looks of things he'd done something wrong enough that the fiery headed woman had lost her composure. It didn't last long, and once Atziri had shook her head a few times, she gave him a critical stare. "Always try to keep your feet evenly spaced." She demonstrated what she wanted from him, pulling her hind leg up to extend the front in a quick shuffle while her arm extended and retracted in a jab. "It keeps your weight centered, and it allows for a quicker response time."

Keene nodded, finding it a sensible tip. As they both took their positions once more, Keene readied himself to mimic the move he'd seen before. Drawing his left foot forward in preparation to launch the rest of his body, Keene jumped forward with both feet instead. His coordination left much to be desired. Atziri turned her face from him to furtively take a few muted ticks of chuckling before she nodded that he try again. It took several attempts, as Keene quickly discovered moving his feet and hands in tandem with the intention of striking something was much more simple in theory. Eventually, however, his hand did connect several times with Atziri's shielded body. By that time, however, Keene was panting from his repeated botches, and once he was able to shuffle into a strike, Atziri had him repeat it until just the thought of it made him tired on both sides. When his punches, despite his desire to improve, became even weaker than they had been at the beginning, Atziri let him take another breather. "Get some water, Keene. You're looking a little battered." She winked, but the joke fell flat on Keene's lack of humor. He merely nodded and headed towards the table to drink and rest.

As he sank into the chair, Atziri shook her head, clapping to get his attention, "Don't sit! Stay standing!" With what agility he could muster, Keene pushed himself from the chair to sway on his feet. "You're not finished yet, Keene. Don't get too comfortable." He nodded, pressing the mouth of the flask to his lips before he realized he hadn't uncapped it. Remedying his mistake, he took several long gulps before he set it aside, wiping sweat from his brow as he leaned against the table and caught his breath. He had never once thought to consider physical exercise as a form of catharsis, however, as it turned out, it was much more effective than he had given it credit for. The fear and panic were just distant memories, taking a back seat to the exhaustion and rush of adrenaline that flooded his system. He was not happy, but he was neither struggling with the shivering paralysis of undesired memories. If he could forget about things by swinging his arms about and holding marginally uncomfortable positions for variable amounts of time, he had little issue with it becoming a regular practice.

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[Keene Ward]

"Jab!" Keene's fist shot forward, his feet shuffling to follow up. His form was questionable at best, and the force behind the strike was pathetic. He had, however, internalized the different stages of motion required to perform the actions Atziri called out to him. They were not reflexive nor instinctual and required thought; however, they were nothing more than a collection of facts that were now part of the ever growing library of his own mind. He found it similar to a matching game: Atziri would call out what she wanted him to do and he matched the command to the action. It was hardly a streamlined process, and the faster she called things out, the more trouble he had correctly performing, but he had progressed far from where he'd started. It was the way with learning, he supposed: starting from nothing everything seemed like progress until the activity was firmly grasped. From there, the process would become less about large discoveries and more about the subtleties. He was far from the point of finesse, however, and was content to take things once step at a time. Rushing the learning process was to miss opportunities to made true advancement.

"Left hook." Keene pulled his arm around in a clumsy strike, moving his feet to keep them evenly spaced as his hand bounced off of Atziri's shoulder. They had yet to discuss aim, as Atziri was more concerned Keene's muscles learn the movement before adding even more to his regimen. He moved back, falling into the neutral position with a quick rush of air from his lungs. Atziri slipped into her own, exaggerating the movement of her fists to get Keene to pull his higher. His breath beat hot and heavy, but his mind whirred with the positions. "Jab then roundhouse." Keene shuffled forward, extending his arm forward to shove his fist towards Atziri who knocked it aside. Letting the momentum of his deflected arm to assist in the movement of his other limb to swing around, Keene's fist landed squarely in the middle of Atziri's face, bouncing off of the shield as Keene took a few steps in retreat. "Much better." Keene nodded, wiping away a trail of sweat that had made it's way into his eye with the back of his hand before settling back into his stance.

Atziri moved towards him, her motions slowed so that he could read them in time to respond. She swung wide, allowing him to ground himself and knock the attack aside with his forearm. He didn't retaliate, waiting for the next strike. A jab moved directly for his chest which he took a few shuffling sidesteps to avoid. The hand quickly accelerated into a slap that knocked against his shoulder in reprimand. "One step, Initiate." She demonstrated the evasion, pulling her hind foot to the side to shift her position to that it would face the incoming attack. "Don't shuffle on that, it takes too long." He nodded, pulling his hands up once more. She gave him a few ticks to get ready before she started again, this time with a wide arcing strike that gave him time to duck and clumsily roll as he lost his balance. He stopped and lay on his back, panting, as the sand stuck to his sweat. Atziri stood over him, grinning down at the exhausted young man before him. "Had enough?" He stared up at the ceiling, air rushing in and out of his lungs keeping in from saying anything for a short while. When he regained his ability to speak, he first tried to push himself up, but found his body had reached its limit.

Between breaths Keene wiggled his head as he let his eyes close. "Yes." The sand felt impossibly soft and welcoming, his body's stasis a welcome change from the constant strain he had forced it into. His weariness was surprisingly light, and as he drifted in and out of sleep with his limbs splayed out as if he'd been slain, he felt incredibly calm. The events of the day before were still there. They had happened, and he wasn't able to simply forget them; yet they seemed much more distant, a cautionary tale. He found that while magic was exhilarating, physical training was a cathartic anesthetic to the flurry of his thoughts. He felt a boot nudge his bruised ribs, the pain dulled by the steady throb of his pulse that seemed to shift his entire body.

"If you're done, get out of the ring, Initiate." He could hear the amusement in her voice, but he was also well aware that the command was no less of an imperative. He struggled from his back to his bottom, taking a moment to catch his breath before he forced himself to a wobbly stance that allowed him to meander out of the sand and settle down a short distance from the fire pit. The warmth of the smooth stone rose up to greet him, and Keene let out a contented sighed, eyes shutting once more. "I expect you do these exercises at least every other day, Keene." He nodded, relatively attentive but enjoying the darkness of sightlessness. "When you're ready, we're going to do some strengthening as well." Keene nodded again, and he heard Atziri start onto her own practice. The sound of her feet shifting in the sand as she moved, the gentle hiss of her breath lulling him into unconsciousness. He had come a long way, but there was still an endless journey before him; one he found became more and more confusing with each day.

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[Ink]

Fate has dictated the conclusion to your journey...

...And now, only Fortune awaits you.

I am Ink, Mistress of Sahova; and it is my pleasure to award you with this bounty of XP and Lore. If you have any questions regarding this Grade, please do not hesitate to send me a PM. Fret not, I tend not to smite...often.

 

Keene

XP

• Acrobatics 3
• Unarmed 4
• Endurance 2
• Boxing 4
• Storytelling 1
• Body Building 2

LORES

• Unarmed Combat: Neutral Stance
• Wardens: Strength of Mind, Body, and Soul
• Boxing: The Jab

With Regards,
Ink