016573 vs. Abenaki: Possessed

[Breaker]

The sky held a light blue color, appropriate for the early morning chill.

The air bit like a snapping turtle, misting my breath into tiny wisps of fog which haunted the otherwise clear atmoshere. It was perhaps a half hour before dawn, just light enough to see easily, although the sun had not yet crested the horizon. Pulling my gloves tighter, I increased my pace. The road crackled underfoot, the season's first frost giving voice to the elements beneath my heavy hiking boots. Just two hundred metres ahead my arena loomed, ornate patterns of frozen condensation decorating the domed glass roof. It looked like some odd form of alien technology, placed at the end of a long road with forest surrounding on three sides. I stepped up the pace again, pushing myself to get there faster. Soon my challenger would be arriving, and I wanted to be ready.

No wind moved the long grass which grew around the building, for which I was glad; even the slightest breeze would have added an unbearable windchill to the frigid morning. The still air gave a surreal feel to the area, it was almost like looking at a postcard photograph. Not wasting time enjoying the aesthetic provided by the cool weather, I pushed open the front door and stepped inside.

Few things startle me, but I was so surprised by what I saw that I froze in my tracks; two men were removing all of the iron weapons from the west wall of my arena, laying them onto blankets which would make easy to carry bundles. The men were equally surprised to see me, but they had evidently felt nervous about being caught, for they reacted swiftly. One threw the dagger he had been holding, the straight edged blade spinning towards my heart. His companion moved as quickly, shuffling two steps towards me before swinging the longsword he was trying to steal in a wide beheading stroke. My own well honed reflexes kicked in then, and I dove to the ground, rolling twice before twisting and arriving on my feet, ready for action. Unfortunately, I had not anticipated that the would-be thieves might make a run for it, which they did, dashing out the now unprotected doorway. Cursing, I ran after them, reaching the door in time to see both disappear into the dense foliage.

Chasing them would have been fruitless; I had little to no tracking knowledge, and wasn’t particularly good at running through the forest. In anger I pounded the door, realizing my mistake as my fist smashed through the heavy wood. Swearing under my breath I freed the limb, careful to avoid cutting it on the sharp slivers of shattered timber. “I’ll just have to chalk it up to another training mishap.” I told myself. The Dajas Pagoda was used to repairing my arena; not so long ago a duel against the vampire Lorenor had left the place looking like a warzone. Glancing up, I saw that golden streaks had begun shooting over the horizon, piercing the dull sky like arrows of fire. The glass dome of my arena began to glow like a yellow lava lamp as the sun melted away the frost. Before long, the interior had begun to warm up.

“Shit, my challenger... Jada or whatever... will be here soon. I gotta get this cleaned up.”

Working like a machine, I began returning all the weapons to their hooks on the wall, tracking water across the blue mats at the centre of the arena as I did so. I wondered whether I would finish the task before my challenger arrived in the octagonal building.

“I’ll look real professional, doing housecleaning when he shows up. I should really see about getting some security set up around here.”

[Abenaki]

Underequipped as usual. Jada thought miserably as the cold morning frost melted away beneath his bare feet. Without shoes and shirt the chill in the morning air was especially uncomfortable, yet still the warrior trudged on, his destination within sight. The first rays of sun streaking across the horizon had offered a little in the way of warmth on the warrior’s goose-pimpled arms, and it had also illuminated the odd dome sitting atop the only building in sight.

Here we are again… the voice named Doubt interjected into the warrior’s thoughts as he began rotating his shoulders, slapping his arms and chest, and pounding his feet against the ground. In cold like this, blood flow was essential, and Jada wanted his body warm and ready before he stepped into the arena ahead. We’ve seen how this has turned out before…

That was a long time ago. Jada answered back, and indeed it had been a long while since his last battle. Time spent wandering aimlessly between the city of Radasanth and the area known as Scara Brae. Time spent alone with himself and his thoughts. It was on the latest of these trips that he had come to know of the Pagoda and its warriors, and seeing it as a chance to test himself away from the sorcery and memories of the Citadel, issued his challenge.

This time will be different…

As Jada approached the building, the pack came off his back, and the iron short sword came off his belt. His eyes scanned the edges of the dense foliage around the octagonal walls for danger, and that sinking nervous feeling crept into his stomach and settled there. Of immediate note was the damaged front door, and suddenly eager to be rid of any encumbrance, Jada dropped his pack just outside before stepping in…

One hand on the broken door, the other gripped tightly around his weapon, Jada sidled quietly through the doorway and stopped. Indoors, beneath the gently glowing dome above, it was a bit warmer than standing in the crisp morning air on the other side of the door. While still chilly, the little warmth the room offered was more than welcomed by the warrior's stiff muscles...

“Tkigen iodalo.” Jada said coolly. ”It is cold out there.”

[Breaker]

As I piled the weapons uncerimoniously onto their wall hooks, I could feel myself dropping into meditation. My mind tended to focus itself whenever I performed any kind of menial, repetitive later. My pulse and breathing synched up, and my senses began to amplify. I was on edge from the near robbery, reaching out with my ears to pick up any unnatural sounds. At first, the morning remained completely peaceful. Then, the sound of a man walking came to me.

I had long since shed my jacket, working in my shirtsleeves. I continued the process of selecting a weapon, finding the right pegs for it, and placing it carefully against the wall, all the while straining to hear outside. There was an odd rhythm of footsteps, quick then slower, soft then softer. I wondered if it was one or more of the thieves returning to take me by surprise. Smirking at the idea, I let my righ hand drop to my hip. It was a gesture typical of anyone who had training in small firearms. It was not a sidearm which my hand rested on, however, but rather the hilt of a long prevaldia bayonet. The dagger had cost me a heavy price at the Radasanthian Bazaar, but had yet to spill any blood. Remembering how the bloodthirsty bandits had attacked me unprovoked, I concluded that they would be ideal targets for baptizing my new blade.

"They're here."

The slightest sound of the damaged door being pushed open, followed by a small stir in the air. It was all I needed to be certain the attackers had arrived. I continued moving completely calmly, stretching to place an iron greatsword high on the wall. Coming down from the balls of my feet, I sighed as if content, a man finished with a difficult task. I dusted my hands against each other, once, twice, then changed gears completely. Spinning on my heel, my right hand dipped once more, snagging the combat knife from where it was sheathed on my hip. Finishing the half turn, I got my second surprise of the day.

"A third thief."

This one was some kind of tribal, although I was unfamiliar with the natives of Scara Brae. His strange words meant nothing to me, but the shortsword in his hand spoke clearly. My hand whipped back then forwards, my bayonet flashing across the room like blue chain lightning, its dark azure blade dancing in the fresh daylight. An inexperienced thrower, I couldn't be certain the knife woud land blade first. It was aimed well though, toppling end over end on a collision course with the tribal's bare chest.

[Abenaki]

Fast...

The intact majority of the broken door next to him became Jada's greatest friend as he hastily ducked back into the doorway he had crept through not seconds before, his hand still on the door to keep it from swinging open, and also to help him maintain his balance. Whatever object the man standing opposite the room had just thrown struck the wall next to the door jamb flatly with a metallic clang, falling harmlessly to the floor not a foot from where the warrior stood. He was waiting for me? Jada wondered silently, shifting his grip on his own weapon as his heart raced. With a quick glance around the edge of the door to locate the man again, Jada reached down and picked up the blade resting on the floor.

So fast, the warrior thought again. Back with the arm, and then forward in one clean motion...

The metal along the blade was cold on Jada's fingers, and held an odd blue tint unlike any other metal he had seen. It had an odd weight to it as well, but balanced. Tossing the weapon one-half rotation handle over blade, Jada caught it by the grip. It felt good in his hand, and almost casually he switched it around to a reverse grip. Contemptuously he held the blade up, point down, one finger extended towards the man. "You are a snake." He said in heavily accented tradespeak. "Like the viper, you attack quickly!" The motion was accented with a quick slashing movement diagonally through the air with the blue-tinted blade. "Strike first, ask second, nda?"

I wonder if this man is from the Pagoda. Jada wondered as he spoke. Either that, or I'm in the wrong place, and most unwelcome...

[Breaker]

"Goddamn impulsive. The hell is wrong with you?"

As if from a great distance, I was shocked at my own behaviour. I would normally never throw a weapon away; besides that, I normally reserved lethal attacks for life-or-death situations. This realization did nothing to calm me. I could feel blood pounding in my ears, thick with adrenaline. Every pore of me screamed for action. The tribal had stolen my blade, now dually arming himself. Some distant, calm part of me realized that unless he was ambidextrous he might hurt himself. The thought drifted just outside my core, informing but not really influencing my actions. My mind was a slow boiling vat of anger, building to a destructive crescendo.

The sun seemed to mock me, rising higher and heating the arena. My anger built with the atmosphere, complementing my surroundings. The bare-chested man had chosen the wrong Warrior to attack, and the wrong place to do it. I knew the tricks of my arena, from the octagonal gridwork of iron bars ten feet above, to the steel cage traps I could bring down with the touch of a button. I would need none of this though; I was fully confident in my ability to take the bastard down.

Again the tribal spoke, this time in language I recognized. His speech was thickly accented though, cutting down on my understanding. It seemed clear that he was insulting me, something about a snake. Normally taunts rolled off me like raindrops, but the barb stung my temper, jacking the heat in my mind. Empty handed, I began striding across the arena, locked in combat mode. The normally emotionless void of meditation was packed full of rage, ready to explode in violence.

Many Althanians put too much faith in their weapons, not realizing how dangerous an unarmed martial artist could be. I sincerely hoped the tribal was one of these, hoped he would attack, expecting to slice me to ribbons. My mouth slowly drew itself into a hard curved line, a grin which showed nothing but beastial rage and mania. I was one with my enemy, and with the arena around me. I felt the floor change as I stepped off the hardwood onto the dense blue mats. There was still a solid ten metres between us, but I pressed onwards at a steady pace, unarmed, ready for anything.

"You should have brought your friends with you, Native. Now show me how you work with your blades."

[Abenaki]

This one knows what he's doing. Jada decided quickly. Either that or he's a fool...

While his jibe may or may not have been the factor that goaded the man into advancing, fools generally didn't possess the level of quiet confidence that Jada felt emanating from this man. Raging anger, outlandish boasts, and generally insulting behavior; these were the signs of a fool. None of that was manifested here. Jada seemed to have found himself alone in a room with a silent and serious individual with apparently deadly intent.

Maybe he's insane? the warrior thought, perplexed. No. Crazy people don't calmly lay in wait, striking when the moment in right...

While he might have liked to hang back, contemplating further the questionable stability of his opponent's mind, Jada wasn't about to sit back on his heels and wait for the steadily approaching man to get close to him. Spirits be damned if he was going to allow an unarmed man to take offensive control of the impending brawl before it had even begun. While no master in the art of combat, Jada was at least competent, and if there was any one thing he had never allowed his lack of finesse to dictate, it was whether or not he initiated the first attack...

Iron short sword in his right hand, mystery blade held reverse and in reserve in his left, Jada took two half-running bounds forward, rapidly closing the majority of what remained of a ten meter gap between the two. With the third, almost close enough to spit in the man's face, Jada brought his sword arm up and across his body, a hip-to-shoulder slashing motion that tended to manifest itself as his first attack. It was a move simplistic enough to be pulled off easily, and yet just complex enough that a headlong opponent (especially one with nothing to defend himself) might need to fall back or find some other creative means of avoidance...

Somehow, as he lashed out at the cool exterior of this nameless stranger, Jada got the sinking feeling that this man might just choose the latter of those two options...

[Breaker]

Before I had cleared the mats, the tribal made his move. He flew towards me in long bounding strides reminescent of a hunting dog, blades at theready. I halted, allowing him to come to me, balanced on the balls of my feet. I breathed in once as the native descended on me, weapons flashing, hair flailing behind him. He made an impressive figure, muscle and sinew bulging, glowing like an icon in the early morning sun. I stood ready for him.

The short sword in his righ hand dipped and I shifted my legs, thinking he might try to hamstring me. The sword whipped up instead, a deadly bird taking flight, tracing a line across my torso. I swayed backwards on the balls of my feet, briefly shifting my weight back on to my left foot, then whipping my body forwards again. As the sword cleared my shoulder I struck in the opening he had left, both hands coming into play. With the scum who would dare to attack me in my own arena, I would fight in earnest.

My left hand shot out, aiming straight at his eyes. My fingers were stiff as wood, bent and spread apart slightly. Each made a small slim spike, sent on a mission to blind my enemy. I had not forgotten the prevaldia knife he now held, however. In the same instant, my right hand reached up and snapped down, knife-like in a swift karate chop. It was directed at the tribal's left wrist, intended to disarm him. I wanted my weapon back, more thann willing to take it by force.

I had divided my focus between my two hands, sacrificing some power in the concentration required for a double strike. Suddenly, a third element invaded my mind. A sharp stinging slashed through my left shoulder, accompanied by uncomfortable warmth. My eyes flashed quickly, and my anger doubled. I had been too hasty in my attack, bringing my upper body forwards before the slash had passed by. The tribal's blade had opened a long, shallow cut across the front of my left shoulder. The black fabric of my shirt gaped like a diseased maw, trickling into the material. I ground my teeth, pupils contracting. The tribal would pay for opening my veins.

[Abenaki]

Jada allowed himself a small modicum of satisfaction as his opponent halted his advance to late, just inside the deadly reach of his arcing blade. That satisfaction only heightened the warrior's surprise, however, as the man arched backwards with the same astounding speed he had displayed earlier, leaning just outside the path of the blade as it slashed across his chest. How a person reacting that quickly maintained their balance was lost on Jada as the nameless man whipped forward again like a spring, attacking almost as quickly as he had shirked back.

Moh'-dze! Jada's mind screamed. Shit!

The warrior's hands couldn't react quickly enough, and his head couldn't turn fast enough, to deflect or completely evade the unexpected counter-attack directed as his eyes. Pain exploded through Jada's head as he caught the brunt of the attack with the side of his nose and the temple beside his right eye. The man's two fingers, as stiff and as unrelenting as stone, sent shockwaves bouncing through the warrior's skull, his fingernails gouging twin marks that immediately began to bleed. With his heart pounding in his ears, and blood threatening to cloud his vision, Jada stumbled to one knee with the first blow, completely ignorant of the second strike that whipped just past his wrist.

Reeling from the onslaught, Jada reacted instinctively, wildly; a wounded animal trying to startle back a vicious predator...

Across from the warrior's left side came the shorter blade in a wide stabbing motion. At the same time his right arm dropped and came back as well, slashing from left to right as well. They were panicked swings of desperation, wild counter-attacks with both arms swinging across his body, tipping the young warrior off balance as he lashed out. As sloppy and as primal as the attacks were, however, a predator always need watch out for such reprisals when closing in for the kill. Were the predator not careful, he might just find himself in his own dire situation...

[Breaker]

My opponent reeled, suffering. Tiny droplets of crimson blood dripped from his head where my fingers had just missed their mark. Seeing his pain, I bore down, going for the kill. I stepped forward, but he came back quicly, attacking with both weapons. I may have been able to avoid them, with a quick roll or other evasive tactic. I wanted to stay close though, wanted to finish him quickly. I could take the damage, and power through it. My wounded shoulder was nearly forgotten, pain pushed into the darkest recesses of my mind. I would hurt, but he would hurt worse.

As the tribal struck, I pivoted, facing his sweeping blades head on. My left forearm rose through the stinging in its shoulder, blocking his meeting his right arm and halting the slashing sword. This done, I shifted my focus quickly, sliding my right arm downard in a powerful low block. It was too late though, for even as my arm met his, the prevaldia bayonet pierced my hip.

"Ssssss-hah!"

Air whistled between my teeth as I exhaled hard, imagining the pain flowing out of me in a conduit. Pranic energy flowed in, the pain leaving, and I struck. My left hand stiffened and shot out, a powerful chop aiming the edge of my hand at the tribal's throat. It was a deadly technique, used to crush an opponent's cartilage, ruining their windpipe.

I staggered backwards, leaning heavily on my uninjured left leg. Blood ran down my thigh and soaked into my black pants, practically invisible in the dark material. I needed better defence against the native's edged weapons. Instinctively, my right hand snaked behind me, snatching my nunchaku from its holster. I held both ends of the jointed weapon in one hand, taking up a defensive stance. If the tribal came close to me, I would be ready, this time taking him with the surprising range of the nunchaku.

[Abenaki]

Off balance from his attack, Jada landed heavily on his left side. The floor beneath his bare chest cold against the thin sheen of sweat that was forming all over his body, and that cool temperature against his skin brought the warrior sharply back into focus. Blood from the minor but oozing wounds on his temple and nose was starting to get all over the right side of his face, including in his eye, hindering his vision. At some point in the scuffle he had lost the shorter mystery blade taken from his attacker, but his grip on his sword was still strong. More than anything, Jada took notice of the fact that his opponent was staggering backwards, heavily favoring one leg.

On the ground a few feet away was the mystery blade, its azure tip dark with blood.

Wounded. Jada thought blissfully, hefting himself back up to one knee. His gaze was locked onto his opponent the entire time, tracking his movements as the man materialized another odd weapon from behind his back. Wounded and armed...

Rather than rush to press an advantage he no longer held, Jada took the man's defensive preparations as an opportunity to retrieve the now bloodied short blade before rising to his feet. Blood ran in thick streaks down the side of his face and his nose, falling in thick droplets from his chin to the floor below. Fast. Unafraid. Wounded. Jada ticked off his opponents attributes mentally, trying to regulate his breathing. The Snake's Defiance, the branded rune on the back of his neck, tingled lightly as its spiritual effects cleansed the pain of his minor wounds from his body.

"You fight like the bear." Jada admitted grudgingly. "Relentless and bold." To try and get a positional advantage he began carefully stepping around his opponent in a wide semi-circle, counter-clockwise in direction towards the man’s wounded leg. "Yet even the bear can be wounded, can be defeated."

After a second's pause he added. "And I, Jada, will defeat you."