Closed [The Anthonius Fighter's Pit]Crossed Staves[Arch]

[Clyde Sullins]

20 Winter 515

Clyde was first and foremost a mage. He knew this well, and it tended to be his main focus in terms of the skills he developed.

However, in coming to Syliras he'd decided to hide most of his magical abilities, particularly the more combat focused ones.

This meant his oldest standby, Reimancy, was a magic he couldn't use. He of course then needed other means of defending himself.

While he had other magics, the simplest and most straightforward solution was to learn to fight with more traditional combat, if not using more traditional weapons. He preferred his own staff, and on occasion had used hammers and daggers. But by and large he mainly used his staff.

As he inspected the fighters area, Clyde could hear the clang of metal on metal, something he found odd. Most training areas used wooden weapons, not normal fighting blades and things. It certainly seemed more dangerous that way, and gave the chance for deadly mistakes.

The dirt ground was free of most any vegetation, what with winter so near. However he did notice a small splotch or two of blood. Perhaps, he thought to himself, from an accident earlier in the day?

He had a wooden practice hammer tucked into his belt, but besides that he held only his staff Cha in his hands in a two handed grip.

Glancing about, Clyde observed other fighters, including the two going at it hammer and tongs causing loud clashes of metal on metal. Other fighters seemed a bit more reserved, except perhaps for another pair off to the side that were wrestling. One of those had a bloody nose, the other a black eye, and he wasn't sure what type of wrestling they were doing that had caused those.

So far he watched and waited, judging the proper time to get involved in a spar.

[Archailist]

My Words | Your Words | My Thoughts

She was charging again. Lean left, counter-attack. He followed through but she blocked it and spun the resin pole around his as if the two were a pair of children in a game of tag. Damn. The metal cap of Fist's Py-Pole had dug deep into his armpit. He took a step back; she took two forwards and buried it deep enough for the sharpened tip to protrude from the middle of his back. Stung like Hai, but not as much as her gruff words as she stared him down from barely an inch away. "You're still too slow. Body fast; stick slow." When she pulled back, she tore her pole out with her and left Arch to drop down to the floor, nursing the gaping hole in his chest that would have been a fatal wound if he had any internal organs to pierce. It'd be gone in a few chimes, sure. But it still hurt.

He'd 'died' and the lesson was over. One day he'd actually manage to hit her, but until then, he had to cough up ten more Miza's and toss them her way. At least for his long-suffering patronage he got a little bit of advice before he left her to the outer wall of the Fighting Pits. "You're never learn how to fight with sticks until you fight against sticks." Normally, that meant fighting his patron, the blood-red bully, but that guy hid behind a shield big enough to shelter most whales with smaller mouths than him. Apart from him.. there wasn't actually anyone else he knew who even considered fighting with something like a staff, or a spear, or.. whatever other exotic weapons they brought with them from other parts of the world he had no interest in.

He was about to turn back and head for the Training Grounds, find someone to waste away the rest of his free time with a little more work on the subject. It seemed like Kelwyn had answered his unspoken prayers though. On his way passed the open exit back to the rest of the District, he had to avoid a person marching with three legs. Three legs. Wait. Three? Oh, just a staff. It was almost sad how long it took the little Pycon to put together what he was looking at. Although even then, something was still bugging him. "Hey!" Arch used the blunt tail of the tree-resin pole to tap the human on the leg. "You keep standing there and staring at people, they're going to think you've got a problem with them. Or just a problem." He looked a little like those new squires standing at the entrance of the Training Grounds, watching all the seasoned knights fighting and fearing for their lives.

He gave a little time for the man to respond while he stepped back into the Pits, Py-Pole at his side in a gross imitation of the man. Weird how little the staff looked on a human. Arch's towered over his head.

[Clyde Sullins]

Clyde was considering leaving when he felt a tap on his leg. Someone, or something, tiny, was before him. He'd not even noticed the small pycon till it had announced itself.

Of late it seemed Clyde had been running into quite a few pycon. Perhaps they were breeding?

Clyde wasn't sure, and didn't know much about pycon, let alone that they had genders and made baby pycon. All he knew was that they were tiny clay people, were oddly squishy, and that he'd once long ago fought with one and accidentally stepped on it.

Said stepping had squashed it flat, but the pycon hadn't seemed much damaged.

More recently he'd run into a clay squire named Ball, who'd been quite a bit better at fighting than the first one he'd met in Zeltiva. Of course, even that hadn't been enough apparently to take on a half dozen or so bandits in one go, and Clyde had ended up interceding.

Clyde smiled down at the small clay being before him, pondering for a moment as he saw the weapon he held. It almost looked like a pole or a staff, but it was pycon sized. Except, not quite, since it was larger than a staff would be when a human used it.

His own staff was rather large, coming to a full 5 feet, on the large and long side for a staff. It was almost as long as he was tall, though not quite as he came to a bit over 6 foot tall.

“Maybe that's just what I want people to think, eh? Or maybe not. Maybe I just like staring. Or maybe I'm just a bit cautious, and prefer to look before I leap into fighting with someone swinging a sword at me. Maybe all of those things, or none, eh? What of you? Do you always go up banging people on the shins with... Whatever that is. Why aren't you fighting then?”

It would likely be clear to the pycon that perhaps verbal combat was where Clyde's skills lay, rather than physical combat. Or at least it would likely become clear if he saw him doing each of them and was able to compare the two.

[Archailist]

My Words | Your Words | My Thoughts

Well, that wasn't exactly the answer he was looking for. Maybe he really does have a problem. Either way, he leaned against his own weapon a little more, making the butt bend and dig into the sand. "If you are, that's a pretty odd way of thinking about it. Who says you're always gonna get to look before you leap? Best prepare for that while you've still got a blunt sword swinging for your head and not a sharp one." A tiny clay tongue inched its way out of the corner of his mouth. What was the point in randomly jumping into a tyrade of words like that, unless he really did either want people to believe he was a very strange person.. or he was just naturally strange. Oh well, to each their own. "If you want to stand there and stare at people and make them think you're bonkers, you can go right ahead." He'd be more than happy right now to just walk away and forget that this had ever happened, if he was entirely honest.

"Or.. you could follow me and put that thing to good use." Just for a little test, he made a move for the staff, just like with his leg, to give it a good ol' thwack. "Against this, my Py-Pole. Sturdy thing, surprisingly nimble - and yes, rather good for banging people on the shins." Whether he actually hit the staff or not wasn't really a concern, though he had to say, he was a little interested in it.. well, interested in the human. For all his oddity there was a little charm in him. He'd not told Arch to petch off the moment he'd made himself known, so there was that. Plus, he had a staff. Maybe it was just because he was very used to his own Py-Pole that looking at the proportions of staff to user, even a larger-than-average staff looked abnormally small. Not to mention brittle.

Oh well. He had confidence in his stride as he walked down towards one of the smaller sections of the Pits and turned back around on his hee, sure that the human would follow. "Of course, if you're not up for it, I could just find someone else.." he trailed off, pausing for a little dramatic effect, ".. but they wouldn't be as interesting." He flashed his own warm smile. "So, will you? Won't you? Neither? Both? Maybe?" Alright, maybe that last part was a little bit too mocking, but he kept his tone neutral and calm at least. Don't want to scare off an interesting one, after all. This would actually be his first time fighting someone with a staff. He was invested.

[Clyde Sullins]

Clyde smiled and shook his head, staring down at the tiny pycon, leaning against his blue Vian Wood staff. if its size wasn't abnormal, its material which made it blue did. Its coloration more than anything else tended to draw questions.

That and, once any manner of clashing had gone by, its solidity. It was more or less impervious by normal means, and even a honed steel blade wouldn't scratch it. It wasn't indestructible, far from it, but nor was it a mundane piece of wood. Of course, its condition wouldn't likely become obvious unless a harsh enough strike that would normally harm it didn't, thus bringing attention to its state.

“Ah, but isn't it better to practice looking before leaping when you can, so that when the true instance arises you'll do so? If I instead practiced leaping before looking, then I'd end up treating every situation as if there was no chance to look, and just fall into the instance.”

“It seems to me then, that as a general rule its wiser to practice looking. Perhaps you've not considered the full ramifications of your own actions and strategy of meeting the world? After all, once you dive into a hole, its far too late to find out if its full of rabid weasels.”

While Clyde perhaps lacked in martial skills, he didn't lack in confidence. He didn't stand as one who feared being run through by a sword, nor of being killed in combat, even amongst the haphazard training going about in the location.

But then, while he didn't plan to use it, his Reimancy was always there, always ready should there be no other choice. It sat as a warm and protective blanket, draped over his shoulders, letting him know that if the need was truly dire he wouldn't be without defense.

Clyde stood there and stared down at the pycon as he offered to train or spar with Clyde, and then in turn as he whacked his weapon against Cha. As with a small wooden weapon of sorts did when smacked against a larger and heavier wooden weapon, it bounced off, the same as it likely would with any other similar mundane instance of a staff.

Considering the last pycon he'd met was quite a fighter, and also a squire, he knew better than to underestimate his mundane combat skills. He might be small, but that didn't mean Clyde would be the one at the advantage purely by his size.

Clyde smiled at his unsubtle attempt at persuading Clyde to fight with him, using one of the simplest of tactics he'd seen in awhile. If Clyde hadn't already been looking for a sparring partner, then the pycon's attempt at questioning his manhood, and if he was "up for it." What made him smile more so though was the pycon's failure at throwing his own words back at him.

“How can I both do an action, and not do it? Either I spar with you, clay man, or I don't. With my gazing, there can certainly be many reasons I gaze, many thoughts, but an action can only be done or not, not both. Never maybe. It is not done till the moment it is, and it is done irrevocably ever thereafter. There is only maybe with thoughts, words, and reasoning's, never actions.”

“But despite your distorted remission of my own words, in a failed attempt to mock them, yes, I will spar with you.”

Heading over to where the pycon led him, a clear spot to spar, Clyde grabbed up Cha and held her before him in a two handed grip.

“I am Clyde by the way. And who are you? What is it you do?”

[Archailist]

My Words | Your Words | My Thoughts

Funny, how much truth this person, Clyde, spoke. After all, one could say that Arch had jumped into a hole and found it was full of rabid weasels when he'd joined the Order. But then again, that just meant there was all the more reason to make sure that didn't happen again. "If we all practiced leaping before looking, we'd jump into everything before examining the opportunity. But if we all practiced looking before leaping, we'd spend so long looking at the situation, by the time we jumped in, the opportunity might have already passed by." He flashed another little smile. "It's true that I might not have considered all the consequences of my actions.. but I'll tell you what, I didn't miss out on any, good or bad." His arms imitated scales, tipping backwards and forwards. "I guess in some horribly twisted way it all works itself out in the end." He'd never ended up talking with someone else about this stuff as much as he did Clyde. The man's words just had a way of pulling out the philosopher inside. Not a good one by any stretch of the imagination but he was there, deep inside his nexus, scribbling away.

Ahh well. "You've got a very long and complicated way of saying one word, you know. Something to work on in the future." The metal tip slapped against the floor, making the whole stick flex and wobble in his grip. Honey-coloured and very unstable; true enough it wasn't anywhere near as sturdy or as well-crafted as Clyde's staff, but it could do its job rather well. Dig deep into the ground, bend, and catapult the little Pycon high into the air like a very heavy pole vaulter. Even as they spoke, his pupil-less eyes were looking for an angle that he could aim for without colliding straight into Clyde's staff. Chest is too predictable. Stomach too close. Legs too narrow, easy to move, close to the staff.

"Oh, yes. Pleasure to meet you, Clyde. Archailist; squire to the Order here." He already knew what was going to happen now - another outburst. 'You? How could you be a squire?' 'Nah, you're lying.' Same shyke, different day. In all honesty he didn't blame them, being five inches tall had its disadvantages. Well, five and a half if you included the pair of antlers sticking out the top of his head, but nobody really did. They all focused on the five eyes and the wings and all that nonsense. "Since you wanted to throw in that extra question, I'll do the same - what do you do, hmm?" Staffs seemed a little out-of-place for a hunter or a labourer.. was he one of those wilderness guides who seemed so eager to explore the Cobalt Mountains? Maybe even just a traveller on the way through to Riverfall or Zeltiva?

[Clyde Sullins]

Clyde smiled once more and shook his head. The pycon's argument did have merit, though there were some flaws to it.

“That could work, if both are even. But in my experience, the risks of leaping are often far greater than the rewards, as compared to the risks and rewards of looking. Perhaps for you that is not true, and perhaps that is in part due to the nature of a pycon, but from a human perspective it is true.”

“Or perhaps it is simply in my own experience. But I know of quite a few instances in my past that if I'd leaped and acted without thought, I'd have died many times over. Or perhaps you've just lived a safer life than others?”

“Humans on the other hands don't fare so well to getting their arm torn off, and we tend to be a larger target than pycon. In theory leaping into things without thought beforehand is fine, but acting upon ones emotions without considering things fully, in reality and not simply by principle, leads to far harsher outcomes.”

Hearing the pycon's name, "Arch... Something or other" he thought to himself, he noted the fact that this pycon was also a squire. There seemed to be quite a few of them.

In this instance of combat, Clyde's most clear tactic was to keep the pycon from getting close. He in this case had the greater reach of the two combatants. If he could keep the pycon from getting within his reach and closing in close enough to be able to strike him with his own limited reach, he'd be much better off.

His goal then was clear, use his reach to his advantage, and keep his foe at bay where he could strike nothing but staff.

“Another pycon squire? How many of you are there? Well, speaking of looking before you leap, I'd say I have a perfect instance of how it is of advantage. I met another clay squire just last season, as he was involved in a fight. He leaped without looking, and ended up taking on a half dozen bandits alone. He nearly got himself killed, because he didn't consider his actions first, and instead bulled his way into combat unprepared and without back up.”

Holding his staff out long ways before him, Clyde held out Cha like a pole with which he was pushing at something. Making a quick thrust he pushed it forward, and then slammed it down where the pycon was, though whether or not he'd still be there he couldn't say.

Once he finished the strike he'd pull his staff back to its earlier position, along with taking a pace backward, keeping the same distance between himself and the pycon, attempting to keep him out of range of striking at Clyde.

If the pycon attempted to jump at or past Cha he'd attempt to slap at him sideways with the staff, in his continued attempt to keep them at a distance.

“As for what I do... I'm a maker. I make things of value others cannot. I suppose in a manner of speaking I work for the knights, as all in Syliras do, though I'm not of the order myself.”

[Archailist]

My Words | Your Words | My Thoughts

Clyde was dogged. To be honest, Arch couldn't tell whether they'd fallen into a stalemate or whether he'd been shown wrong.. even if the latter were true, he'd never really be able to explain why. At the end of it all, he just shrugged his shoulders. "Agree to disagree. You can continue to stand and stare and watch the world go by.. I'd sooner jump head-first, take the world by the horns and ride it even if it kills me, over spending all my time standing around and being cautious." He'd had his own fair share of cowardly moments; when people he knew were trapped inside literal burning buildings and he'd refused to run inside simply because of self-doubt in his own ability. He'd succumbed to his own weaknesses, but never again. He wouldn't be so dumb any more. "Guess you never really look back and wonder whether all the deaths you could have experienced were worth it."

Oh well. Perhaps he'd found his own little shred of confidence. It wasn't as iron-clad as Clyde's but it was something to grasp onto in his darker moments. At least I won't have any regrets. As he'd been told, time and time again by his patron and the other knights and pretty much most, if not all of the members of the Order he'd ever spoken with on the subject, time for the knights was short. One day you'd go out and a Balicani would side-line you from the shadows and that was it; your time on Miz was over. It'd happened to colleagues, friends, superiors and employees. It'd continue to happen for even longer. It put things in perspective.

"Hold on. Another?" Oh petch, he'd met Ball already. "Yeah, that sounds like Ball. Sorry about that.. he.. well yeah, I don't need to explain what he's like to you, do I? Bulling in with no backup plan is the forefront of every plan the guy ever comes up with and there's pretty much no point trying to throw him any other way." He pinched the bridge of his own nose between forefinger and thumb. "When I say leaping before looking, I definitely didn't mean that. Just because you don't sit around forever coming up with a good plan doesn't mean you turn every single mission into one of suicide and bravado." Not that he didn't love Ball. Sometimes he just wished the guy would calm himself a little.

Just like he wished Clyde would; they'd barely even finished talking and already the heavy butt of a staff was ready to squish his soft little body into the dirt. Time for some quick thinking! Too heavy to push aside. Too strong to push back. Instead he hopped back a few steps, using his free hand to shroud his face from the flurry of dust and dirt that the end of the staff kicked up. Drat. That was a mistake, he should have pushed forwards while he had the chance, but the surprise move had caught him off-guard. "Yeah, I can tell that much.. a member of the Order wouldn't pull a cheap move while the other guy's not looking." He took a step back again, creating a little more distance between them both. "I'm all for jumping in and making the most of what you have while you have it, but jeez.. if you want a little more than a casual spar then consider this your warning."

After a moment of hesitation to clear a bit of the dust that'd flown up in his face, the antlered squirrel made a short run for Clyde to quickly cover the large gap they'd created. I'll force him into either attacking or backing off. If he likes watching so much, the best chance is to force him into fast, reflex decisions. He had his Py-Pole at the ready but wasn't aiming for either of Clyde's legs. Just a straight-forward sprint right for the ankles. He won't surprise-attack me again.

[Clyde Sullins]

Clyde wasn't overly surprised to learn that the pycon here knew of Ball, another pycon squire. In hindsight he supposed there couldn't really be that many of them. Plus Ball was rahter distinctive. Apparently he also knew him well enough to know his temperament, and how haphazard he was leaping into battle unprepared.

“And I never said you should spend all day pondering which end of the staff to hold. There is a time and place to plan, and a time and place to act. But more often than not in my experience failure is in part due to a failing to spend enough time planning. As I said, I'd be dead many times over if I didn't have a habit of thinking before I acted. If I just acted every time I had a whim or desire, I'd be dead many times over.”

At this point Clyde was talking less about combat, and more about magic. Perhaps if nothing else being a personal mage was in part the cause of his watch and think approach, rather than the go in blazing and burning.

If every time he desired to cast he did, he'd have died or worse from overgiving long ago. Instead, he watched, saw what was needed, and then acted. He did no less than he needed, and tried to do no more. He didn't burn down a forest, when a well placed shiv to the neck would do nicely.

Likewise if he acted on his emotions and desires, thinking only for the present and not long term ramifications, he wouldn't have lasted nearly as long in Syliras as he had, at least not with his secrets more or less intact.

Having decided to act and take the first strike, he was greeted not by a return blow but by a complaint. A complaint that he'd acted.

“Now who's being a bit wishy washy. You complain because I think to much, and don't act, and when I take the initiative and start the spar off you complain about that also. Who isn't looking? You asked for a spar, I agreed, so we are sparring. Verbally and physically. ”

“I'm sorry though if I unfairly overestimated a member of the order. I assumed you wouldn't be brought low by a swing of a staff. Or was I wrong on that point? Besides, your a pycon. I thought you kind of... Pop back into place or whatever? The other one even stuck back on a arm he lost, and didn't seem any worse for wear.”

“But I do apologize if I was overzealous in my actions and estimations of a squires combat prowess.”

As he finished speaking the pycon came racing at him, attempting to close the distance. He'd noted from his earlier strike that the ground here was somewhat dusty and loose, from the kick up his staff strike had made on the ground.

He'd also more or less been expecting the pycon to attempt to rush him, as closing the distance was the only way he'd be able to attack Clyde. If Arch didn't get within his close range he wouldn't be able to strike Clyde.

Clyde therefore did two things at once. In an attempt to push the pycon back he swept the staff across the ground roughly where the pycon was moving into. If he kept moving as he was, he'd be running right into the sweep of Clyde's staff.

Regardless, the sweep also acted to kick up a bit of dust at ground level, which with Arch's smaller stature was worse for him than Clyde.

He also willed a bit of his djed into Cha, focused as a tendril of thought, and then willed the djed to flow outward from Cha which was used as a conduit. Extending outward from Cha's flesh a tendril of his aura sight expanded, invisible djed forces stretching and reaching, flowing outward to engulf and examine the pycon's aura.

At such close range on a single target, examining and getting a good look at the flare of djed that was the pycon's aura wouldn't be difficult.

It wouldn't likely be noticeable to the pycon unless he was a master Aurist himself, as Clyde's touch with said magic was gentle.

[Archailist]

My Words | Your Words | My Thoughts

He couldn't help but agree. There were times and places to plan. He'd planned, occasionally. "Guess we're shaped by our experiences then, aren't we. Can't have everyone looking at the world the same way, otherwise nothing interesting would happen." He'd accepted that there were better methods to use in the long run but.. well, although there were times for taking things slow and steady and methodical and strategically, he'd always just found it more fun to take the fast lane and screw most of the consequences that came from it. Perhaps that was just his nature, or shaped from his time spent running away from everything and everyone, only to regret it. Deep down, he knew it was the strategic thing to do, something that he did so that he could sit down and prepare and plan. It was also the wrong thing to do. When someone you loved was burning to pieces, there often wasn't time to plan a route to reach them.

They'd both find out which was the better outlook one day. For now, though, there was an unannounced fight to finish. "Pfff!" He blew air out of thin flaps of clay around his mouth to make something as close to a raspberry as a clay man could make. "There's a difference between taking initiative and just being polite, you know." He had a feeling Clyde knew it just as well as Arch did, though, given the insistent prods at his pride. "Oh, you're pushing your luck now." He wouldn't actually admit whether Clyde was wrong because he had no idea, truthfully, how competent the other man was and didn't want to embarrass himself by claiming he was better than he really was. "Though let's just say, you'll find out whether you overestimated or not soon."

Here came the first attack. Well, it seemed a little crude to actually be called an attack. Clyde was pretty much dragging the stick across the ground and hoping that Arch was silly enough to just keep on running and let it smack him on the side. Can't speed up. Shouldn't slow down; it'll give him distance and he'll be able to slow down too. Can't go under. Could go over.. but it'll be difficult and slow me down again. He'd have to go around. But the dust kicking up around the staff's tip made it difficult to gauge where exactly the staff was. Hmm.

An idea emerged. As he drew dangerously close, the Py-Pole was stretched out in front of him and swung around towards the staff so that it could slap against the side. Alright. A simple plan. He'd use his own Py-Pole to speed up Clyde's staff by pushing it along its own path faster. That'll open up a narrow gap.. I should be able to easily twist myself around, keep up the pace, sprint straight around the staff through the path it'd just made without even slowing down significantly. With his pole pressed to Clyde's staff tip, he'd constantly know where the staff was, too. He felt confident. As soon as I'm past the tip of the staff, his only options are to back off again or make more sweeps and stabs with the staff. Though if all things went well, he'd make a bolt straight for Clyde and reach him before the next attack.