The Pycon and the Pomeranian

by **Boopley Snoof** on November 17th, 2015, 12:13 am

2nd of Fall, 515 AV

The night before had been enjoyable enough, that was certain. But that had been enough of pleasure…he needed to become more used to the weapon he had claimed as his own, as well as with his own unarmed fighting style. Moreover, he decided that the best way for him to earn money, at least at this point, would be to put his combat skills to use as a mercenary, taking advanced missions to make the most of his advantages.

Thus it was that he was now approaching one of the Knights on patrol to ask for directions.

“Excuse me, Sir, but I was hoping that you would assist a newcomer in need of directions.”

“Ser Kalahan, and –” at this point he paused slightly, having turned to face the speaker and encountering an imposingly large man. He was a weathered old Knight, and his keen eyes picked up the traces of an immense axe underneath Bo’s heavy cloak. He settled one hand on the hilt of his sword, then continued – “I would be more than happen to help you. Tell me, where are you seeking to go?”

Bo smiled as he took in all the details of the man’s behavior, relishing the fact that he could put a Knight on edge…but not revealing this even slightly. Instead, he continued speaking with his most refined, manicured, and soothing voice, looking him directly – though not aggressively – in the eyes. He would see if he could take this further.

“I am seeking the fight pits…being new here, I presume that I would be best employed using my combat skills as a mercenary in service of this wonderful city, and wished to hone them into more deadly precision…though I am totally harmless to any Knight, and they can feel perfectly at ease in presence.”

The man removed his hand from his sword, and his facial muscles relaxed slightly. The corners of Bo’s mouth flexed upwards into another smile…one that the Knight would have deemed to be merely friendly, but was held far more sinister satisfaction than that. He was no hypnotist, but he knew how to convince people of his words...that was certain The Knight smiled back.

“Glad to hear it! As for the location you seek, it is off of Winthrop Alley, just outside of the citadel. It’s clear across town…but if you move fast, you should get there in less than an hour…presuming you don’t get lost. Just follow the main road you can see from here straight until you can glimpse the harbor to your left, turn there and go until you pass and opening to your right. If you take that turn, Winthrop Alley will be on your right, and the Anthonius Fighter’s Pits are the biggest attraction there. Should be no problem at all.”

“Thank you very much. Best of wishes to you, Sit Kalahan.” He bowed, then departed.

Directions haven been, he found his way to a partially destroyed building. Various groups of men were engaged in all sorts of combat. Bo Sno strode around the different pits slowly. A young man with a longsword strapped to his belt and a simple buckler on his arm approached him.

“Hey, you there! Big man! How about a little test of brains over brawn. My brains verses your brawn, eh?”

A gaggle of other young men guffawed at the antics of their apparent leader. Bo took this in solemnly, then smiled his deceptively magnanimous smile. He had grown used to using it whenever something amused him in a condescending manner, mainly due to the secret pleasure he was deriving from what they did not know.

“Very well, young man. Let us turn aside into this pit to our right, shall we?”

Bo led the way in, then they turned to face each other. The young man gestured to one of the weapon carts outside of the pit, speaking with sarcasm oozing from his voice.

“Sir, when you fight a man with a sword, it is wise to have a weapon. Now, while I’m sure you know nothing of wisdom, Mr. Brawn, I will at least give you this bit of advice – select a good longsword or the like for yourself…and perhaps a shield while you are at it. You will most certainly need them.”

Another round of laughter from the other youths. Bo’s smile grew as he reached up and whipped off his cloak with one hand, and snatched Mortaeon off his back with the other.

“What were you saying about weapons, young man?”

by **Ball** on November 17th, 2015, 12:34 am

“I do believe he said you needed a weapon. Not a toothpick.” Ball muttered as he watched the posse of young men antagonize a man clearly large enough to break them all in two without breaking a sweat, Ball understood that that man was a large and forbidding figure might actually be worthy opponent, until the boy kept antagonizing him more and there was a weapon drawn. Ball sighed, Everyone thinks it is a cock fight. Seriously, why can't anyone just fight with their hands anymore? This is going to be over fairly quickly I think. Even if that larger man has zero talent in the weapon of choice he currently has. He might just overpower the younger of the two. He watched though, something told Ball he needed to intervene and quickly. Even if the larger man did succeed, Ball could see the signs of an ambush on multiple sides and that just wasn't going to do well.

He cleared his throat as he stepped forward, “Listen up fools. Let them fight one on one. We shall see who is better. Then I will face them.” Ball grinned at the circle that formed, “Besides, if my hunch is correct… you would surely need to take your friend here to the Soothing Waters.” He motioned towards the young man with the sword.

“Also, a sword is only as good as the wielder. And you have very little to speak of. A sword isn't all that cracked up of a weapon in my eyes, it's a long inflexible bit of steel that you hold in one hand, two if it is really heavy… And you swing it around hoping to the Gods you don't chop your foot or other hand off.” Ball shrugged, he knew enough of swords to come to that point of fact. Ball owned a rapier, it was a bit of steel… Small portable, sort of flexible. Yet that was the extent of it… Ball had used it enough to gain an understanding of it, that and Thorn… Thorn he knew better, it was about the size of a dagger to humans but to Ball… That was a lance. And a fine one, granted it was also nothing more than an inflexible bit of steel.

“Now… If you want a real weapon, you want something that can bend around the inflexible. Something that can be twisted, pulled, manipulated, played with… You want something that has life.” It appears that Ball had confused the young men that surrounded the others… Yet it didn't deter the man with the sword as he gave out a yell and went charging towards the behemoth with a downward swing. Ball just watched. Forward foot to far out, no balance. Hands too far about, no guard. Sword to straight. Dead on the field. The pycon's lips pursed as he watched.

WC: 476

by **Boopley Snoof** on November 17th, 2015, 2:42 am

It took Bo a moment to actually spot the tiny creature that was so boldly addressing this group of people. The Pycon spoke with astounding authority, however...he had read once that the Knights had several Pycons within their ranks....this must be one of them. And from his bearing, he was not merely self-possessed....his authority stemmed from a genuine certainty in his own abilities.

Bo took a moment to give a quick bow of his head in thanks to the tiny warrior, then shifted his gaze back to his assailant as the young man launched himself forward.

A downward stroke...that was foolish, and I know that without ever having used a sword.

As the sword came down, Bo tossed Mortaeon into his left hand and brought it upwards. He noticed that Mortaeon was nearly the size of the young man himself...this was no ordinary foolishness on that youth's part. The sword blade just above the hilt slammed between the extended points of the axe heads. Twisting the widowmaker, the axe heads played the part of counter-braces and wrenched the sword out of the young man's grasp. He flicked it towards the wall, then lunged forward and grabbed the buckler with his right hand and heaved the man upwards. Letting go in mid swing, the crest-fallen youth soared through the air, out of the pit, and headlong into the other hecklers and they scrambled to dodge their flying companion.

Watching the group of the tumble in the dust was quite satisfying, as was the couple of sharp cracks that he heard. At least some of them would not be doing anything particularly active soon.

"Perhaps I shall give a you a bit of wisdom myself...while many things in life are not as they appear...sometimes they are precisely as they appear, and thus should not be ignored. Also...you might want to try some vague level of though before you go about challenging random people to fight. Lucky for you I know how to use my widowmaker, because its blades are razor sharp and could have easily killed you if I had wanted to."

He turned to Ball, and bowed again. "I thank you for your consideration, ...I presume you to be with the Knights from your speech and bearing, though your lack of other insignia leads me to believe that you are a squire withing their ranks." He waved off the subject like a bit of vagary. "Anyhow...I believe that you called the next fight with the victor. I am your humble opponent....if what I have heard of the Knights and Pycons is true, I fear that I shall not be victor twice today." He smiled broadly and stepped backwards into a casual stance.

OOC :

by **Ball** on November 18th, 2015, 3:11 am

Ball stared at the man, even though he was clearly being spoken to the mentality of combat had already locked into the pycon's nexus. He smirked as he stepped forward, “Whether or not I am a squire or knight means very little. I am off duty so even if I wore an insignia you wouldn't know it.” Ball knew it was a boldface lie, he shrugged at the end, “I doubt what you heard about Pycons was very accurate. Most conceive us as small, pathetic, and useless in combat.” The pyken artist shifted his position so he could look at the man's full height there was zero he could say about the towering height yet there was another problem that Ball was able to account for. The bigger they are.. The harder they fall. This is going to be almost as easy as the training dummy. Ball grinned at that thought – a wide toothy grin that showed a row of crooked clay colored 'teeth'.

As he waited for the first attack, it would do no good for Ball to take the first strike in this case. It would be a huge disadvantage against that massive weapon's dual bladed head. The first attack from the weapon or man was probably going to not end well for the man one bit. Ball took in the man's posture, it seemed almost arrogant and cocky to him, the almost slacked way he held the weapon and used it as a makeshift man-catcher was impressive, but that just wouldn't work against Ball, for Ball carried no weapons with him… There was no need for the pyken master to carry a weapon when he was in fact a weapon. On that thought, I should speak with Fist after this fight… I wonder what she has for tactics and techniques she might be able to bestow upon my little nexus. Never mind that now though. You have a much… Larger thing to worry about currently. Ball was only half paying attention, it wasn't hard to mistaken one limb for another on a man so large, but it also wasn't too hard to see a move against the three inch Pycon either.

“Make your move. I am not going to stand here all day as an open target just so I can turn to stone right here in the Pits. I have better things I can do with my time after all.” Ball waved a hand upwards towards the man and then with another smirk he motioned for the man to hurry up already. Ball had a feeling he could wager a guess of the first attack he was going to deal with, but there was no clear idea which way he was going to take the first attack. Not that it really mattered… Ball was ready. Each bit of his clay coiled and tensed, releasing itself from one limb to build up in another limb before moving on. Flexing the internal mass of his body around, it would take less than a tick to shove a massive amount of his being from one limb to another, not including Flux if he so wished to do so.

WC: 529

by **Boopley Snoof** on November 18th, 2015, 3:54 am

The Pycon wanted him to attack. Bo was not foolish…he knew that an opponent who wanted you to attack was usually planning a remarkably successful way to retaliate…and had this been actual combat, he would have never given in. But…that was not the case. This was only a sparring match. The fact that his opponent deliberately downplayed his rank and abilities made Bo wonder if even being in the ring with such a combatant was a good idea. After all…he was just a wandering visitor. He still had yet to learn the laws of this city, so for all he knew killing someone in these pits was perfectly legal…he didn’t think so, but what did he know?

Nevertheless, he had given his word, and such a public environment was not the time to practice betrayal or lying. That would be merely cowardice…a trait useful only in the most dire of circumstances, and even then quite rarely. No, he would do Rhsyol honor and fight a good fight…praying that it was not yet his time to die. He decided to leave Mortaeon in his left hand, keeping his grip just below the head so if need be he could use the heavy steel blades as a sort of shield…after all, their breadth was greater than many bucklers.

“Very well. I will do as you request.”

Turning the blades sideways so that they shielded him vertically and pushing it in front of him, he charged. But he did not charge as a brawler would…he charged as a wolf would – bringing his body so low his open shirt’s lapels brushed the dust. As soon as his opponent was within reach, he lauched forth a powerful fist in a reverse punch.

OOC Reverse Punch :

by **Ball** on November 18th, 2015, 4:29 am

Ball watched in almost sheer shock as the man shifted his hand grip on the massive weapon's shaft, choking it close to head with a grip that told Ball he wasn't going to use it offensively. It floored Ball's nexus though what happened next his opponent leaned forward and came rushing towards the three inch pyken artist. It was practically Sylir's Will to just give Ball the amazing target offered before him – a large man's bony face. It would take Ball a tick to pull back a fist and punch straight forward, but that would just place Ball inside the man's face, and that wasn't very effective for anyone -– especially Ball, instead though he watched the man's free arm shift to his side, pivoted into a locking formation readying to be pushed out. The palm was up and Ball could see the tension in the man's arm. There's the attack. The tremble in the man's arm was evident as it wasn't an easy move to take into consideration with the position he was lowered into. Chest to the ground was not exactly conducive to a punch. Lost of range.

Ball though waited, he was in no rush and this man was surely underestimating Ball's height apparently. That was when the attack came. The arm lashed out, hand twisting at the joint towards Ball, it was a feeble attack lacking range of motion, technique, and power behind it. Ball flattened himself slightly, allowing the fist start past him. Ball lifted a hand up, palm touching the meat of the man's palm as it neared the zenith of Ball. Twisting and following the attack's projected trajectory Ball's body shifting built up tension against the man's palm, lifting it slightly to change the upward portion just slightly for the following move.

Ball never stopped the man's momentum, instead he forced the tension to untwist and propel upward into his arm, the clay pushing and forcing it's way into a tight spot that allowed the master pyken artist to push the hand forward, clearing the full width of the Pycon's being. With the slight change in upward pressure on the man's hand Ball would be unharmed as long as he remained in motion with the man.

What would come as a shock though to the large man was Ball's next move, his body remained in motion above the Pycon, but the Pycon's form remained in motion as well, the upward force of Ball's arm also allowed Ball to follow through with a somersaulting motion in the opposite direction of the man's body. It was a stationary spin that placed his raised hand on the ground temporarily for balance just in time for the man's chest to come into range. Pressing off with this grounded hand to take off from the ground Ball's spin brought both of his feet square into the man's chest. It was almost impossible for Ball to miss, yet in the rare chance that he did, the result was the same, Ball would come falling into the ground, tumbling hard in the hard dirt of the Pit's excuse of a floor before pivoting once more and using both hands and his feet to come to a sliding halt several feet behind the hulking man.

“Mistake.” Ball spoke as he stood up, both arms pivoted themselves on either side of the line that would run through his center of gravity, hands were palm up with fingers wrapped into loose fists. His right foot was shifted forward with only the front half of his foot pressed hard against the floor. Ball's left foot was shifted back, it sat there gently against the ground, just barely holding his weight as the rest was held up on his right foot. Bending at the knee slightly Ball raise his right arm up slightly and flicked the fingers towards himself. “Try again.”

OOC Note :

WC: 645

by **Boopley Snoof** on November 18th, 2015, 7:27 pm

The Pycon easily deflected his attack, then proceeded to attempt to land a firm hit on his sternum. Fortunately, he had kept Mortaeon in the vertical position and now lifted the massive blades up to protect himself. There was a metallic ping as his opponent made contact with the broad of the upper blade at the last second, just above what would have been his lower sternum. As his opponent landed and recovered, Bo let his left shoulder hit the ground and roll him back onto his feet, making sure to keep the axe between himself and the Pycon. Standing, he took a step back and re-evaluated the situation.

Using Mortaeon as a shield was a good idea, he decided...it had forced the Pycon to hit steel instead of being able to hit his gut or solo plexus. That was a technique he would need to remember and practice. Still, it would do little good against this particular opponent at this point...time to change plans. He decided to use another aspect of the fighting style that came instinctually to him partially, and that he partially picked up from his sisters in the little time that they were able to have together. During their time with the slavers, they women spoke incessantly about fighting their way out, and young Bo had listened intently to the techniques. He had not had much in the way of practice, but now was as good a time as ever.

In this case, he was going to do what they had told him was the way to handle a superior opponent. You move in, make a quick attack from the safest distance possible, then move back out even while you finish the attack. If all else fails...do not be above jumping and even running to keep away from their attacks.

He stalked around the Pycon slowly, using his fingers to massage his right hand slightly. The nerves were still tingling from the pinpoint hit to the center of his palm, but it was fading, and would not cause him too much trouble. More important, however, was the fact that he had gotten a glimpse of how a Pycon fought...their whole body became a living, conforming, shifting weapon...just like he had said before the battle to the young men.

Tossing Mortaeon back into his right hand, he lunged forward, letting his long arms and the longer shaft to his polearm close the distance. Using a grip just above the tip of the handle, he thrust directly forward in a maneuver similar to that of a fencer's thrust. Presuming that the pycon would dodge -- or even if he did make contact -- he shifted into a tight stance one step forward and prepared to finish the attack. Instead of pulling Mortaeon straight back, he grabbed it just beneath the head with his left hand, pulling the head back and to the left while throwing the bladed handled tip forward with his right, producing something of a spinning figure-eight motion intended to either bludgeon with the steel handle itself or slice with one of the heads or handle blade.

He followed this motion by spinning the axe back up into a two-handed hold angled across his chest, at the same time pushing off with his left foot to return himself to his relatively safe distance, and began circling again.

OOC :

by **Ball** on November 18th, 2015, 7:55 pm

Ball turned slowly as his opponent stalked around him, it showed that the forceful blow to his palm was bugging him some and Ball smirked. Good. The next attack was coming soon, Ball saw the shift of hand across shaft, a pivoting twist followed shortly after that turned the weapon's main attack placement from focusing on the two heavy headed blades to the smaller pointed blade on the opposite end of the weapon. Not that it shocked Ball that such a weapon wouldn't have a secondary mode of attack, it just seemed odd to the Pycon the choice here. As the man lunged forward to take his attack B all sprung into action.

Grabbing the weapon just past the short blade Ball pulled hard as he stepped to the inside of the man, it effectively stopped the rest of the attack sequence enough to give Ball a purchase on the weapon so that when the man stepped forward the pycon was inside of both the forward foot and the weapon as it arched upward into a swing. It was this momentum that Ball used in his next attack. This one was less friendly and more entirely brute force. As he swung upward with the weapon's arch Ball released at the moment of most importance to him.

The weapon continued it's curving trajectory around, but Ball's trajectory was less curved and more targeted – the gap between the man's neck and collarbone on the right side. Ball knew of it. Heard it was pretty nasty place to get hit at – and so that was Ball's targeted location. As he shot towards the man he molded his body into a tight oblong shape, reducing the friction in the air and making the pyken artist more aerodynamic, thus making him faster.

The force Ball was going to hit with was five pounds of pure clay at about a foot a second. Propelled at an upward angle towards the man's clavicle… If connected it was an uncomfortably hard connect against the bone and what muscles resided there. At the very least intense immediate pain and bruising was paramount. If successful Ball would extend his hands out, pivot, and slide himself down the man's body so he was placed between the man's feet with hands extended outward. It was here that Ball did what he was good at: targeting ankles, both hands would shoot out hard cracking at the knob of bone that was the ankle protruding outward.

Of course, if Ball missed he would fly across the Pit and into the wall on the other end, stunned momentarily before he could stand back up and turn to defend if the need arose.

WC: 447

by **Boopley Snoof** on November 18th, 2015, 8:10 pm

Bo saw the attack coming at the last minute and it occurred to him that there was no way he was going to be able to win, or even escape this unharmed. He was new to combat, and while not entirely inept, was no match for one who was clearly a master of their style.

With the axe now in his left hand, he made a hasty decision...he took the blow. The pain arced through his body upon the impact...he did not feel a snap, thankfully, but knew that he could expect some serious nerve and muscle damage, as well as a minor fracture of his clavicle. But he took advantage of the only advantage he had -- his opponent had finally come to him.

The pain more than disabled his left arm for the time being, and sent colorful sparks shooting across his vision. Still, he didn't really need much vision for this next maneuver.

He opened his massive right hand. and snapped it up to his chest in a flash, summoning all the strength and speed he could muster into smashing the little clay devil like an overgrown bug. With fingers outspread, and his aim downward slightly of the impact spot in the direction the Pycon was falling, he doubted that he would miss entirely. If he did miss, he would be only a little worse off than he already was. But if he made contact, he would surely do SOME damage to the creature.

Either way, however, he tensed himself to the pain of being hit just below the spot that had already been wounded. Whatever occurred, it was not going to be pleasant.

by **Ball** on November 19th, 2015, 2:46 am

Ball was just a tick too slow to completely pass under the large hand that slapped against the owner's chest. It came with a sudden stop of momentum that Ball realized what was going on. His right limbs were pinned between hand and chest. It was a rather painful experience and the pain was only going to get worse for the man as Ball rolled himself back up towards his hand grabbed a hold of the man's thumb knuckle and looked at him. “You are going to need to see the Soothing Waters.” He growled as he wrapped his arm tightly around the knuckle and twisted his body away from it. Seeing as the man's thumb wasn't meant to go in that direction the results would first be a dull sounding pop and tension would echo heavily in the tendons and ligaments of the man's thumb and palm.

Yet the first audible sound wasn't the dislocating of cartilage and bone but the tearing of clay. Ball grunted in pain, feeling it spike heavily at his nexus before he pushed it away as best as he could he twisted harder, once the thumb was at it's most extended outward Ball shifted the remains of his weight and let his weight take over. The tension in the man's thumb would come to the breaking point of either releasing the limbs Ball was dearly wanting back or it did nothing. Regardless if the man released the limbs due to pain in his joint or not Ball was going to pull himself up onto the extended thumb as if he was performing a pullup one handed before releasing the slack in his arm and falling downward once more, this jerking would cause intense pain in his joints even more.

Ball knew enough of the human anatomy to know that there was a nerve that ran up from the wrist into the thumb, he had no way to reach the wrist. So he improvised. Hoping with enough jerking motions the man's hand were jerk and release his desired limbs. The throbbing pain coming to his nexus was rather painful at this point in time. Yet how long would this man's thumb hold out to being used as a pull up bar with fast releases? I ought to just break your knuckle instead.

WC: 387

Closed The Pycon and the Pomeranian