Flashback [Training] For Whom The Bell Tolls

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A city floating in the center of a lake, Ravok is a place of dark beauty, romance and culture. Behind it all though is the presence of Rhysol, God of Evil and Betrayal. The city is controlled by The Black Sun, a religious organization devoted to Rhysol. [Lore]

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[Training] For Whom The Bell Tolls

Postby Elias Caldera on June 7th, 2015, 8:43 pm

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75th Day of Spring, 508 AV

Sweat dripped from his bow as opponents circled one another. Dodging another combination of punches Elias ducked and avoided as best he could with what little he had left. He was aching from his arms all the way down to his midsection and he already knew that when this was done he would be wearing the bruises he had earned today for weeks yet to come. Digging deep into his reserves, the petitioner worked his jab against the grizzled fighter that was stalking him. One two. One two. It was all he could do to keep him at a distance.

When his fists collided with the other boy’s face or forehead, he’d see him snap backwards briefly before recovering. His mouth had been bloodied and his nose swollen, maybe even broken, but it hadn’t been enough to put the older boy on his back. Pumping out a straight right, Elias managed to connect one more time before covering up as his opponent unleashed a flurry of blows of his own that caused Elias to drop into the half crouch position and defend himself as best he could.

The sound of the bell ringing, signifying the end of the round, was one of the sweetest things he had ever heard. A welcome relief if there ever was such a beautiful thing.

Walking back to his corner Elias looked a bit shaky on his feet. Part of him, even caught up in the haze of combat, was still reeling from the fact that he was here among his own. His last gambit within the pits had, shockingly enough, been witnessed by more than just drunkards and debtors hoping to make a quick miza on a bet or two. Much to the petitioner’s surprise, there had apparently been a number of his fellow Ebonstryfe prospects among the audience, and after watching him fight, they had gone so far as to invite the Caldera into their ‘little assembly,’ as they had called it. Whatever cutesy term they referred to it as it, the truth was much more revealing; it was a fighting ring…

A tournament.

It hadn’t taken much to convince him to join.

He was faster than the man he was facing today, but getting hit was starting to take its toll on him. As he neared the bench one of his corner men put out for him, Elias collapsed into the seat, his head lolling down between his legs as he rested wary hands on laps. He felt the cool embrace of water as a sponge was squeezed over his head and, looking up, he’d see a cloth begin to wipe away the blood. Dabbing underneath his nose where it had stained the most, Elias would hear a faint voice telling him “You’ve got two more rounds in there. Don’t let him bully you around!

By the time the next bell rang the blood leaking from his nose had stopped and Elias was feeling a little more refreshed, if still terribly sore. Cheering from the small crowd of apprentices and petitioners that had gathered around the circle used as a ring brought him back to his feet. They had said ‘little,’ but by his count, there were perhaps more than two dozen onlookers among their ranks. More and more had streamed in to watch the fights which had started earlier in the morning, but was now already in the second bout of three. They had started with eight competitors in the beginning. Now it was down to only four.

Proceeding into the center of the ring after being unceremoniously booted from his bench, Elias would watched his opponent as the both of them began to circle around one another once more. As usual Elias would open up with stinging jabs that peppered off the man’s face but ultimately didn’t appear to do much damage. The boy –the man- was obviously an ox. No matter how many times Elias hit him in the face he kept pushing forward and driving the ravokian back just a little bit more, taking shots like they were mere flies buzzing about his head. Without warning the man would start throwing hooks and crosses of his own. Elias would cover up as best he could but no matter how many of the hard shots he blocked some would always get through.

He was getting tired of going through this process time and time again. He needed some new tactic to gain the upper hand.

He groaned when one blow landed in his midsection and made him stumble backwards. When he recovered, he found himself at the edge of the circle and his opponent bearing down on him, the smell of fresh blood luring the big lug in for the kill. The ox swung hard, and Elias, filled with desperation, countered with a right. It connected, and it connected viciously. The big man wavered.

Finally a bit of success. Now was the time to attac-

The bell rung.

The round was over.
Last edited by Elias Caldera on June 7th, 2015, 9:29 pm, edited 1 time in total.
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Elias Caldera
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[Training] For Whom The Bell Tolls

Postby Elias Caldera on June 7th, 2015, 8:43 pm

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Back in his corner he was received by the loving embrace of the cool water being poured over his head again. Elias closed his eyes, savoring the moment while he could. His side felt like it was on fire and his head was pounding unimaginably loud. Inhaling a deep breath he’d grit his teeth while hearing the same voice as last time calling to him. “Looking good out there! You won that round but you have to put him away this round!Who the petch was this guy? Elias grunted in acknowledgement and leaped to his feet at the sound of the bell.

As he moved into the circle again, Elias would hold out his fist and touch knuckles with his opponent in a show of sportsmanship. There was no ill will between the two of them despite their mutual opposition of one another in the match. It wasn’t like regular training where everything was a calculated move to earn favor, dissuade threats and destroy obstacles. This was just a fight between fighters, and the simplicity was refreshing.

After the exchange of respect both of them were all business again however. Circling one another as was a norm during the beginnings of every round, the feeling out process was much shorter this time. Elias knew that he didn’t want to stand toe to toe with the man, who was much stockier than him, but he could see by the look on his opponents face that he was starting to tire. Finally!

Engaging quickly this time, Elias would snap out a straight right that passed through his opponents defenses and smashed into his forehead, driving him backwards. Apparently the man hadn’t been expecting the quick movement, or was just too exhausted now to be able to react in time. Smelling victory close at hand, the Caldera heir chanced his luck and swooped in for a follow up... only to receive a brutal counter strike against his ribs for his efforts.

Backpedaling after the counter, Elias would make it seem as though he was hurt, a lot more than he was anyways, and going on the defensive. It was more than enough to goad his opponent into the trap. Maybe not the best tactic, given the size of the bastard now barreling down on him, but he had to try something new.

As the man came in, Elias, feigning his state, raised his arms to block the blows that were thrown his way. Powerful jabs came first as the man was hesitant to commit. The young ravokian didn’t want to take damage, obviously, though if what he was planning worked, he was willing to sacrifice whatever he needed to if it was absolutely necessary.

Finally, after following him around the circle as Elias continued to bob and weave out of harm’s way, the man would unleash another overhand blow meant to pass over Elias’s guard and right into the unsuspecting stryfer’s face. It was exactly the moment that Elias had been waiting for.

Slipping to the side with a sudden burst of speed, Elias would let the overhand blow pass over his shoulder while delivering a heavy fist of his own to his opponent’s exposed stomach. One, two. The combination went as he drilled a blow to the abdomen and then followed with another to the kidney area, rabbit punching the man with evident effect as he went. When it came to attacking the body Elias was particularly relentless, especially when it came to winding his opponents. As the assault continued, the fluxing novice took the opportunity to dig deep inside himself, astral hands borrowing into the depths of something be barely understood or could control, but none the less grabbed hold of when he felt the tingle of magic twitch against his touch. He heaved, pulling into action and sending a wave of force flooding into his arms. With a new found power spurring him on, hammer fist after hammer fist smashed into his foe until the giant’s arms fell away, his body recoiling from the pain and fatigue, unable to defend itself any longer.

One last shot, fueled by the raging torrent of crashing magic within him, put an end to the ox once and for all. The finishing blow caught the big man across the jaw and he dropped an instant later.

Unable to be roused from his fallen state, Elias was declared the winner and raised his arms to accept what sounded like the genuinely excited and congratulatory applause from several in the crowd.

It was usually at this point that he would take the time to make an example of his fallen comrade, perhaps by kicking him while he was down, or pissing on his head while he slumbered in agony. That one was always fun.

Moving over to his downed opponent, Elias offered his hand to big man, helping him back to his feet once he found his wherewithal to stand again. Both men congratulated the other on a well fought match before separating. Elias was surrounded by several more strangers who had been in his corner, each offering him slaps on the back and words of encouragement.

It was a pleasant change of pace from the sounds of cracking whips and screaming demands that he do better or suffer the consequences.
Last edited by Elias Caldera on June 7th, 2015, 9:36 pm, edited 1 time in total.
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Elias Caldera
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[Training] For Whom The Bell Tolls

Postby Elias Caldera on June 7th, 2015, 8:44 pm

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He had been allowed a brief reprieve from the fighting to go rest and relax while the next match was settled and his opponent for the very final match was decided. Much to his dismay, Elias found himself being roused for the small nap he had involuntarily fallen into only chimes after dozing off. It seemed they had chosen his next foe relatively quickly, which meant bad news for him.

Across from him, another man stepped out of the crowd. He was roughly the same height as Elias and maybe a few pounds heavier, but wearing only trunks he’d likely cut himself, it was easy to see the corded muscle that crossed his entire frame. It didn’t look like he had an ounce of fat on him. His name was something Weis and he was known all around the Vitrax as one of the finest apprentices the stryfe had seen in years. A good fighter then, to say the least.

Waiting across the circle from one another, both men would eye each other up and down while the announcer of the event entered the middle of the circle “This is it. We started with eight and now we’re down to two. The winner of the match is the winner of the competition. Get out there and fight!” The bell was rung a tick later.

Walking toward his opponent, Elias was caught completely off guard by the sudden burst of violence from his opponent when the man immediately and with blinding speed let loose a wicked hook that put the Caldera on his back with ease. Blinking back the stars for the short moment he was granted on the floor, Elias was able to eventually pick himself back up and quickly went about circling around to the left of Weis so as to would avoid another blow like the last one. At least he thought it had been a right hand, but truth be told, his head was spinning too fast to even remember that far back. Damn...

If nothing else, after the first blow Elias now knew how strong his adversary was. Nervously, curiously, the young man popped out his jab to keep him at distance and test his metal, but Weis was fast, already ducking and dodging in response, and while one jab might hit him out of three, the other two would still miss hopelessly. Not the greatest odds to be sure.

Both men traded blows for the first round of the match, though Elias knew he was getting the worst of their exchanges. When they came at one another, Elias would take full advantage of his jab and work it, but Weis knew how to dodge those blows and usually countered with a straight or cross to the body. Elias understood his side was starting to redden by the time the first round was half over and his lungs already felt like they were burning just a little bit. This couldn’t keep up.

He couldn’t keep up.
Last edited by Elias Caldera on June 7th, 2015, 9:40 pm, edited 1 time in total.
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[Training] For Whom The Bell Tolls

Postby Elias Caldera on June 7th, 2015, 8:44 pm

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Opening up with a combination, Elias met a bit of success when he threw a hook to the face that actually landed. At the same time however, he ate a straight for his effort. Wobbled by the blow a bit, Elias still managed to finish his combination by landing another shot to the body. This time it seemed to just bounce off his opponent, completely useless. Pitted against one another as they were, Weis looked like the superior fighter at the moment; he had the endurance, the power and quite a bit of speed to match, and it was clear he had trained hard for this.

Exchanging back and forth for the rest of the first round took its toll, but the bell finally sounded and Elias moved back to his corner. His lip was split and oozing, but for the most part the ravokian had managed to keep from taking too many blows to the nose at least. He positively hated getting hit in the nose!

Going over the rest of his problems, he noted in disdain how reddened his side had become as well. On the other hand and the other side of the arena, Weis wasn’t looking too bad at all. Inhaling a heavy breath that caused him to wince briefly, Elias called for the cloth of cold water so that it would help wake him up a little more. He needed to focus or else he didn’t stand much of a chance out there. This may not have been a regular day of training at the Vitrax, but that didn’t mean his will and lustful desire to win was any less demanding than ever.

Rolling his shoulders as the damp cloth was used to clean his face, Elias would stare across the circle towards Weis who sat looking back him with an equal amount of intensity. Both men wanted this victory. Both of them knew they deserved it more.

In his corner Elias knew that voices were calling out to him and telling him what he needed to do, but whatever was said fell on deaf ears as he glared across at the man he would soon decimate. When the bell finally sounded the beginning of the second round, they were both on their feet and marching into the fray again.

No touch of knuckles or show of sportsmanship was offered by the two as they neared one another. Closing the gap of distance, when both stryfers were within range of one another, they simply let fly with destructive abandon at one another. Both of them landed hard, and even though it didn’t go as well for Elias as it did for his opponent, he was still able to snap Weis’s head to the side and forced the other teenager to respect the power behind his fists. That anxious uncertainty brought the match to a chess like phase that always took hold when both fighters either feared taking a hit too much to commit, or respected their enemies too much to fling themselves at the other outright.

It was the least he could have hoped for…
Last edited by Elias Caldera on June 7th, 2015, 9:45 pm, edited 1 time in total.
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Elias Caldera
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[Training] For Whom The Bell Tolls

Postby Elias Caldera on June 7th, 2015, 8:44 pm

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The men stalked one another, pumping out blows when they found an opening and sometimes even engaging when the both of them felt confident enough to let loose.

Throughout the course of the second round, Elias got the worst of the exchanges just like in the first, but unlike the first he didn’t lose all of them. During the second round he had made Weis back off at least twice and that signified a significant win for him, regardless of however small that may have seemed to anyone else. The round passed quickly with the bell ending the turbulent melee much too soon for either fighter’s liking. They separated none the less, heading back to their corners to bide their time. Now Elias was sporting a bloody nose – Rhysol damn it! - and his left eye was visibly swollen. His side wasn’t doing much better either, but at least he had the satisfaction of looking across at Weis and knowing that he gave the man the welts that adorned his once pristine and untouched face. He witnessed him lean over on his bench and spit a mouthful of blood out of the circle and Elias smiled at the sight.

Mending him as much as they could, the proud ravokian only just heard one of the men in corner speak this time around. “Dig deep and finish him this round, Caldera. Nothing else will win it for you!” Even though he understood, Elias had passed on from wanting to win, to just wanting to fight. His mouth was cleaned of red and his eye had something cold applied to it to try and take some swelling down. The clanging of the bell echoed throughout the makeshift coliseum and Elias was on his feet almost instantaneously, moving forward again.

This was the final round.

As he moved ahead, Elias could see that Weis was coming towards him with an equal amount of fervor. When the two met each other in the center of the circle amidst the hollering cheers from the spectators watching them, they each answered the call by throwing flurries of blows at one another. Jab, straight, hook, cross, uppercut, everything and anything was used. Bobbing and weaving back and forth, it looked like just as many blows missed as hit, and when the boys separated it was clear that they both felt the effects of one another’s drive to battle.

Gritting his teeth, Elias would rushed in to engage again and the men exchanged a plethora of jabs before backing off once more. When they came at each other again it was much of the same. Weis was starting to swell up at this point, but he wasn’t quite as bad as Elias was with his locked jaw and puffy eyes. It was undeniable both warriors felt terrible, but if they did, they did a good damn job of not showing it. As for Elias himself, he struggled to breathe once or twice when he took a blow to his injured side, but no one could deny his heart as he kept coming forward and trading shots with the other stryfer.

One, two. One, two. He popped out two straight combinations that rocked Weis, but were in turn answered with a shot or two right back at him. Elias couldn’t block the blows and no longer even tried at times. Both men were upright, their stances signifying they were in a full on attack mode that left no room for compromise or retreat. Neither of them could take too many more blows but it was clear they going to try none the less. Eventually, with arms turning sluggish, Weiss faltered first. The older apprenticed acquiesced and lunged into a clinch which Elias had absolutely no strength to avoid.

Tangled with one another, both Elias and Weis wheezed and gasped from the strain of the match. It was then, as the haze cleared from his thoughts, that the fluxer recognized his opportunity.

With a gargantuan effort, the ‘mage’ dug down inside himself to find that last sliver of hope he knew was down there somewhere. Searching desperately with fumbling, non existant hand, Elias finally found the dancing cord he so direly needed. He tugged and the magic spewed forth, released for the second time when he needed it most. He felt a fire rekindled within, and harnessing it to fullest of its extent, the ravokian sent the flame roaring throughout his arms, pushing them to their limits and then beyond in one final, colossal effort.

With energy and power renewed, Elias shoved Weis back with an alarming amount of force. The other boy’s eyes widened in shock as he realized what was going on, but it was far too late to stop it. All it took was one, singular strike of a flux augmented fist to send Weis flying out of the circle and into the crowd of supporters shouting his name.

The last bell sounded when Weis went crashing into the bell ringer, sending a sizable chunk of the audience to the ground with him in a jumbled heap of surprised shouts and flailing limbs.

The last thing Elias heard before his legs buckled and the earth rushed up to meet him was his name being howled in raucous jubilation by what was left of the spectators still on their feet.
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Elias Caldera
The Edgiest of Edge Lords
 
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[Training] For Whom The Bell Tolls

Postby Dove Brown on January 23rd, 2016, 12:31 pm

Your Grades!
Brought to you on the wings of a Dove!


Please remember to edit your grading request. If you have any questions, comments or concerns regarding your grade, please do not hesitate to send me a PM.


Name: Elias Caldera
XP Award:
  • Endurance 3
  • Boxing 5
  • Unarmed Combat 5
  • Tactics 1
  • Flux 2
  • Medicine 1
Lore:
  • Fighting in formal rounds
  • Foiled by the bell
  • Assessing an opponent's strengths
  • Cold water to wake up
  • Medicine: cold compresses reduce swelling
Notes: Enjoy your grades
Very busy at work. May not be around much for a while.
Threads: 3/3

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Dove Brown
Keeping my head, my backbone, and my heart
 
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