A Duel for Honor

[Nayeli]

This is a battle thread, and should be judged as such. It is fulfilling the quest from the Acquisitions Board "A Duel Or Nought!"

This thread is also currently CLOSED! To Revenant, who will be playing an Innari NPC. In any case, good luck, and let's have some fun. :D
The sound of drums filled Nayeli’s ears, rhythmic and persistent. The scent of fire filled Nayeli’s nostrils, acrid and thick. Thoughts of war filled her head, morbid and gruesome.

These were the Dueling Pits, the violent heart of the warlike Innari’s system of honor. In the heart of Brokenthorn forest lay a series of combat rings in which an unending stream of Innari combatants battled for the honor of their respective tribes. The battles were held only at night; a series of torches around the arenas provided a dim flickering light. The grass was trampled flat from the passing of so many feet. All around were Innari, hundreds of them, shouting and chanting support for their champions or derision of their enemies. There was the ever-present beat of the wardrums, which seemed to merge with the heartbeat and chanting of the crowds and become a living being of its own.

Nayeli sat before one such arena, watching as two rivals battled with daggers till the death. One fell to the ground and gasped for mercy, and his opponent knocked him unconscious with a kick to the head. The battles weren’t officially over until one warrior was dead or unconscious; there could be no running away in the honor system of the Innari.

“The victory goes to Ahiga, of the Badger Tribe!” the announcer called. The victor raised his knife over his head and let out a war-whoop, and the crowd cheered once more. The drums beat on.

The warriors that battled here were the bravest and most fearsome the Innari had to offer. Those who won, and won well, went on to become great champions and had feasts in their honor. Those who lost were healed by the nearby Shamans and came back the following night, hoping to regain their honor in yet another duel.

Nayeli yawned. Although dressed for war, with stripes of blue and red warpaint on her face and a necklace of boar’s tusks around her neck, she would not be fighting this evening. Her capacity here was ceremonial; as the daughter of a chieftain, she was required to accompany her father. She found herself wishing that she could be proving herself in the rings below instead.

“What a waste of effort,” Chieftain Ominotago said. He was Cheiftain of the Boar Tribe, and he had vehemently protested the reinstating of the Pits. No warriors of Boar would battle tonight.

“You seem to be the only one who thinks so, Father,” Nayeli said. Her father looked at her sharply, but a nearby Innari laughed.

“Your daughter is wise, Ominotago. How long do you suppose will it be before she is leading Boar?” he said. It was a tall, thin Innari with pale green skin and a long and crooked nose. Nayeli recognized him as the Chieftain of Sparrow Tribe.

“Just until she learns to control her mouth, Chief Kele,” Ominotago growled.

“Indeed?” the Chieftain of Sparrow tribe said. There was a dark glint in his eye that Nayeli didn’t like at all. Sparrow Tribe and Boar Tribe had long been rivals. “Well maybe you’d do wise to listen to your piglet, on occasion. How many fighters of Boar will be in the arena tonight, again?”

“Not a one,” Ominotago said. “These practices are foolish and barbaric. If the Innari ever wish to be respected by the other races, we must be more civilized than this.”

Kele chuckled. “And I suppose you’ve never heard of the Citadel, or the Dajas Pagoda? Humans and the like aren’t above such things at all, friend. In fact, there are a few humans in attendance tonight, as guests.”

“Then I’m embarrassed for our people and theirs,” Nayeli’s father said.

“Embarrassed? The only ones who should be embarrassed are the members of Boar Tribe, for having such a pathetic and weak-willed Chieftain.”

Ominotago sighed, and looked very old. “Fine. Just leave us and go preen your feathers even more, Kele.”

Kele began to speak. His mouth curved up in a cruel jeer, but Nayeli stood up and interrupted him. “I will be the Boar Tribe’s champion tonight,” she said. Her cheeks were blazing with embarrassment. How could her father allow this rival Chieftain to disrespect him like that? It was unthinkable.

“No, Nayeli, don’t! That’s just what he was trying to—” her father said, but Nayeli ignored him and shoved through the crowd towards the arena. The arena guard was calling for Innari that wished to challenge some warrior. She didn’t catch the opponent’s name, but it didn’t matter. Whoever it was, defeating them would restore her tribe’s honor, and shut that disrespectful Sparrow Chieftain’s mouth for good.

“Nayeli Ominotago, of the Boar Tribe,” she called out. The crowd around her grew wild. They hadn’t expected any champion from the Boar Tribe tonight, much less the chieftain’s daughter. Nayeli grinned.

“Right this way, miss,” the arena guard said, his face blank. Nayeli stepped into the arena, and felt bittersweet adrenaline squirt into her mouth and pump through her veins. The arena itself was only a small circle of packed grass, surrounded by a wall of densely packed spectators, but to her it seemed a glorious battlefield. The drums beat quicker and quicker, and all around the crowd’s yells for blood grew wilder.

She stepped into the arena and cast aside her bow. While the bow was her weapon of choice, it would be useless in an arena as small as this. Instead, she drew her iron dagger from her hip. Its weight felt good in her hand. The announcer shouted above the crowds: “Nayeli Ominotago, champion of the Boar Tribe!”

Nayeli mentally readied herself for the battle. She would earn honor, she would earn glory. Her tribe’s reputation was at stake, and she would fight for it like no Innari had fought before.

[Revenant]

Kapimu sniffed, inhaling the rank scent of the Dueling Pits. The air was heavy with the smell of wood smoke and a thousand unwashed Innari. Tantalizingly brief hints of played through the pregnant haze, product of any sufficiently large Innari gathering. Cheers from both the pits and the crowds, bloodthirsty roars of victory and triumph, reverberated in Kapimu’s skull like the war cries of the Gods of old. The pits were chaos and violence embodied, and to Kapimu, that made them home.

“Pathetic,” Kapimu spat at the unconscious warrior who was being dragged to the Shamans from the closest pit. The fallen Innari’s scent wove a detailed story for Kapimu, a story of excitement, desperation, and fear. Rather than bringing forth any sense of respect or honor from the bulky warrior, it merely served to bring the Innari’s anger to a boil. To his warrior’s mind, no real warrior should ever show fear.

Kapimu tensed every rock hard muscle as he thought about it. Kapimu had no fear.

The ascendancy of the earth was nearing, dreams of rising mountains and the Great Beast’s arrival coming to the Shamans of all Innari Tribes. Long had the Innari’s leaders counseled peace, counseled caution against taking to war. But Kapimu knew that their preaching would not avail them for much longer. The signs were readily apparent, the time of the warrior was at hand, and in that time the chosen would rise up to take their places and become ensconced as legends to the Innari. This Kapimu knew, as much as he knew, without any doubt, that he was destined to be one of the chosen and to take his place among the legends of his people.

Knowing his destiny, Kapimu had fought long and hard towards attaining it. He had toiled and strained in the warrens, and in the pits, and in the raiding parties who sacked wayward caravans from the human city of Scara Brae. He had spilt much blood, both his and his victims’, and had proven himself to be the strongest and most gifted of his tribe in a generation.

Scratching at the bone-white war paint streaked across his face and chest, Kapimu watched the scuttling attendants prepare the nearest pit for the next duel. Each successful duel granted the winner a skull, and with ten skulls a champion could call out the warlord of their tribe to challenge his place. Kapimu needed only two more skulls to have the necessary amount to make his challenge, and since all of the tribe’s younger warriors already held him in fanatic awe, once the title of warlord was in his hands, the throne of Chief Kele itself soon would be.

Unfortunately, Chief Kele had not maintained his position by being an idiot and knew exactly what Kapimu was up to. As such, Kele had forbidden Kapimu from making his next challenge for two cycles of the moon. While Innari tradition dictated that, though he could not present a challenge, Kapimu would still be able to accept a challenge, his well-known martial prowess and his tendency to brutally slay every opponent meant that the line to challenge Kapimu was dreadfully short.

And so Kapimu sat and brooded, another face in the sea of Innari chanting for blood at the pits each night. But as Kapimu watched Nayeli, Chieftain’s Daughter of the Boar, making her way into the pit, and saw Chieftain Kele approaching him in an excited hobble, he had a feeling that his luck was about to change.

“Ho’ Chieftain,” Kapimu forced the traditional greeting towards the elder goblin, though none could mistake it for a sign of respect in the least.

“For two cycles Kapimu, I have forbidden you from taking your pleasure in the pits. Do you know why?” Kele asked, ignoring the younger goblin’s blatant disrespect.

“That is easy, Kele. It is because you fear me,” Kapimu bared his teeth in a vicious, snarling grin.

Chieftain Kele snorted dismissively, “fear is that last think that comes to mind when I think of you Kapimu.”

“I smell the fear on you now Kele,” Kapimu pushed further, “but if you say you do not fear me then why keep me from my rightful place.”

“Others have different thoughts on where your rightful place is, warrior,” Kele smiled back, a grin as savage and bloodthirsty as Kapimu’s, “and I have kept you there because you are nothing more to me than a tool that I grip in my fist and use to smash the enemies of the Sparrow.”

“The enemies of the Sparrow,” Kapimu’s eyes narrowed in wicked understanding and he nodded his head towards Nayeli questioningly.

Impossibly, Kele’s grin grew even fiercer as he nodded his reply.

Swift as the wind, Kapimu grabbed his favored weapon, a short hafted spear that could be used one-handed as easily as with two hands and was off. If the crowd had proven riotous when Nayeli’s entry into the pits had been announced, they went downright hysterical when the announcer called out his name.

“Kapimu, Champion of the Sparrow Tribe,” the announcer’s voice echoed, almost drowned out by the roaring cries of the crowds who trampled one another in their eagerness to get a better view.

Thrusting the arena guard aside with a backhanded shrug, Kapimu entered the pit across from the Boar Chieftain’s daughter and drew himself to his full height. Flashing a predatory smile at the goblin woman, a full head shorter than he, Kapimu gripped his spear in two hands and bellowed.

[Nayeli]

As the massive champion of the Sparrow Tribe lumbered into the arena, Nayeli could not have been happier. She would pay back the derision the Sparrow’s Chieftain had shown towards her father tenfold. Her father may be displeased now, but when she won, he would have no choice but to be proud

Her opponent, a brute named Kapimu, towered over her. His arms and legs bulged with muscle; he hardly even looked like an Innari, he was so huge. She had heard of his exploits before—he was a ruthless master of the fight pits who had collected eight straight victories in a row. There were hushed rumors that he intended on challenging Chieftain Kele to take control of the Sparrow Tribe, but Nayeli doubted that would ever happen. Kele was wily—he wouldn’t allow some thug from the fight pits to take his place as Chieftain.

Still, Kapimu cut an intimidating figure. Compared to him, she was a mouse, and not to mention her lack of experience in the pits. If she wasn’t Ominotago’s daughter, she doubtless would have been barred from fighting, and not only due to her gender.

She grinned and showed two rows of sharply pointed teeth. The poor fool probably thought he had an advantage over her! Of course in her mind, the opposite was true. She was no expert in hand-to-hand combat—it was her weakness, in fact—but she knew enough to see that the larger Innari’s size gave him little advantage. Nayeli was lithe and quick; she could use his bulk against him if she was clever. Kapimu didn’t look like he had enough brain cells to fill a thimble.

The two combatants examined one another and gauged each other’s strength. Kapimu let out a brutal roar, and Nayeli laughed. She gave a false curtsey, grasping invisible skirts and crouching down despite the fact that she was in fact wearing pants. The crowd laughed—it was clear that she was mocking her opponent’s lack of social graces.

She took this minute to reflect on the irony of the situation. The spirit of the Boar was strong, stubborn, and large. The Sparrow, on the other hand, was clever and small. Each of the combatants seemed to epitomize the virtues of each other’s spirits. It wasn’t the Boar, however, that Nayeli paid allegiance to—her guardian spirit of preference was the Fox, whose avatar she had once met deep in the forest. The Fox too was cunning and quick, both virtues she would need to win this battle.

Instead of charging forward rashly—her initial instinct—she waited for her opponent to come to her. She held her dagger in a defensive stance and gestured with her left hand. Let’s see what you’ve got, was what the gesture said.

“Come on,” she taunted. “You afraid or something?”

The crowd cheered.

[Revenant]

Nayeli’s reaction caught the massive Innari completely off-guard. He had entered the dueling pit with his normal confident swagger, expecting to need nothing more than his size and reputation to cow the Boar Chieftain’s daughter. But, far from letting Kapimu’s stature overwhelm her, Nayeli had shown the gall to taunt her opponent and play him for a fool. Seeing this, Kapimu, an Innari warrior used to facing equally hardened opponents who did little more than beg for their lives and scrape the dust at his feet, could not fathom the mocking disrespect shown by the tiny slip of a goblin waif. Blinking incredulously, the Sparrow Tribe champion just stared at Nayeli with a dumb, blank expression.

The sight of the massive Kapimu staring at like a wide-eyed calf at an opponent half his size sent the crowd into a frenzy. Already reaching a size normally reserved for formal challenges to a Tribal Warlord, the unbelievably loud roar of the crowd rose until the sound of it was almost deafening..

“Look at Kapimu,” one voice shouted, “so scared he can’t move.”

“I think he’s in love,” another laughed.

“Such ferocity from the Sparrow Champion,” a third voice mocked.

It took a second for the crowd’s words to break through the stunned haze that surrounded Kapimu, but when it did, the entirety of the Innari’s mottled grey-green body flushed a deep, angry crimson.

“Silence,” Kapimu roared, turning on the crowd and swinging his spear at the front ranks of onlookers. Rough iron passed inches from the skin of the goblins in the first row, sending the spectators there scrambling away from the edge, but only serving to increase the mocking laughter coming from the rest of the crowd. Nearly frothing at the mouth in his anger, Kapimu turned back to face Nayeli.

“Kapimu fears nothing,” he roared defiantly, pounding his massive fist into his muscular chest. Each corded muscle, thick as a steel cable, could be seen stood out as the warrior tensed his entire body. “You disrespect me, Boar slut? You disrespect a real Innari warrior?”

It was too much for the raging Sparrow and the anger, hot and raw, burst through the borders of his mind like water breaking through a dam. Roaring like an angry bear, Kapimu leapt across the dueling pit in a single bound, swinging his spear back and forth in powerful, two handed arcs.

[Nayeli]

The slight bunny (http://www.yorkblog.com/foodfight/bunny.jpg)ing of Kapimu in this post was discussed and approved over PM :p
The bullish Sparrow warrior leapt forward, swinging wildly with his spear, but Nayeli sidestepped him easily. Kapiumu’s spear swings only struck air, and the whooshing they made as they passed through the space where Nayeli had been moments ago incited the crowd to further cheering. Strong though the Sparrow’s warrior may be, he clearly had no idea how to work a crowd. She, on the other hand, had been trained to be a Cheiftainess someday—she knew that the crowd’s reaction here was almost as important as the duel itself. And for now, at least, the crowd cheered for her. Unfortunately their reaction could be as fickle as the summer’s wind; doubtless they would cheer just as hard if she were getting her pretty little face mangled.

“Oh, very impressive, Mister Sparrow,” she said, hopping from one heel to the other. “Would you please show me some more of how a real Innari warrior fights?”

She danced around the arena, darting and weaving and performing acrobatics. Wherever she was, her opponent slashed…but always a moment too late. Her enemy seemed to be getting angrier and angrier; he was frothing at the mouth now, and murder was in his eyes. She kept her dagger loosely at her side, ready to use it if she got an opportunity. Her enemy, however, presented her none. It may seem like she had the advantage, but if Kapimu kept pressing the offensive she would tire out. He didn’t drop his guard, either; his seemingly savage attacks did have an underlying control that made him into a fearsome warrior.

Kapimu swung his spear, and Nayeli ducked. “Oh, that was a close one, Mister Sparrow. Try again a bit harder?” she taunted. Her voice was confident, and the crowd loved it, but her initial arrogance had drained. She really did have no experience in hand to hand combat. Other than her natural size and speed, she was no match for the tall Innari, and that would become evident soon enough. She found herself longing for the familiar grip of a bow in her hand. Instead she was stuck with this piddly knife.

The two Innari danced across the arena in circles: swing and dodge, swing and dodge, swing and dodge. It seemed like the battle had reached a stalemate. Nayeli was too quick for the Sparrow’s warrior, but she didn’t have the confidence to go after him herself. She grew tired. The impatient crowd roared for blood.

Eventually, one of them was going to have to slip up—and Nayeli had an ugly feeling that it would be her.

[Revenant]

All bunnying indeed approved. And I must say that Kapimu is a lot cuter than I had imagined him.
“Coward,” Kapimu bellowed in frustration, swinging his spear at Nayeli again and again. He was strong and fast, a nearly perfect innari warrior, and each swing of his spear made the air around him cry out in protest. But none of Kapimu’s fury, and none of his strength, could catch the Boar Chieftain’s daughter, who always maintained the squirrel-like agility that kept her a hair’s breadth out of his reach.

Up and down Nayeli ducked under and around his strike. Left and right the goblin maiden wove, leaving only the slightest margin between her and Kapimu’s whistling spear. The two innari whirled around the dueling pit once, twice, three times; the perfect opposition of strength and speed.

“Bitch, harlot, whore,” Kapimu screamed in reply to Nayeli’s goading taunts. It was a bitter pill for the mighty innari warrior to swallow, knowing that it would only require one glancing blow from his spear to bring the dancing Boar to her knees, yet never quite being able to reach her. He poured all of his strength, rage, and focus into his savage attacks, but for every ounce of effort he poured into hitting the wily gobliness, she matched it just enough to evade.

Despite being intently focused on the dodgy opponent in front of him, scattered echoes of his snarling profanity reached Kapimu’s ears. The sound was sweet, brining a grin, primal and violent, to enraged innari’s his face. It seemed that the crowd, which had only moments before been completely in Nayeli’s sway, was beginning to tire of the she-goblin’s running battle as much as he was. Eager for blood, more and more innari howled their disappointment and scorn at the chieftain’s daughter.

“You see, coward,” Kapimu spat as he spun his spear in another fierce arc, “you do nothing but show all innari what shit the Boar Tribe really is.”

Trails of hair fluttered to the straw-filled mud of the fighting pit floor, clipped from the ends of Nayeli’s black locks and Kapimu’s vicious grin widened as he realized how close his last swing had come. Though Kapimu was not the brightest innari in the Sparrow Tribe, he was a skilled warrior who knew how to read an opponent. For all of Nayeli’s agility, the smaller innari’s frail body couldn’t keep up with the brute force Kapimu brought to bear. She was tiring, her limited supply of energy dimming more and more with each near miss.

Time to end this, Kapimu thought and, quicker than the eye could follow, shifted his footing to a offensive side-stance. Switching his spear into a one-handed grip, Kapimu swung the weapon in a downward arc. It was apparent that the one-handed grip was slower and less powerful than the two-handed one, but the seasoned warrior never intended to catch Nayeli with it, instead using the swing to feint the smaller goblin, herding her to dodge and then stepping in to follow her movements with savage punch.

[Nayeli]

How predictable, Nayeli thought as her opponent made a one-armed downward thrust with his spear. She darted to the left and began to prepare another taunt in her mind when—

There was a sickening crunch as her nose broke, and for a moment her brain only registered pain. She staggered backwards towards the edge of the arena, and the crowd hissed in approval. Wha... she thought, too dazed to realize what had just happened.

“Blood! Blood! Blood!” the crowd cheered. It took her a moment to realize that the blood they were shouting about was hers. The red liquid gushed out of her nostrils and down her face. She reached up and felt her nose, and found it was completely crooked. That bastard! He’d feinted and then sucker-punched her in the face! How dare he! Red hot rage coursed through her veins and clouded her vision.

She licked the blood from around her lips off and savored its saltiness. Then she grinned at her opponent, showing rows of pointy yellowed teeth that were now smeared with red. “Was that it?” she said, trying to sound unimpressed. It was important to let the crowd think that she was far from defeat. Inside, she was less confident. One punch from him had done that much damage? She didn’t want to know what he could do with that spear of his.

Not to mention that, at this point, Kapimu was probably not just fighting for victory or his tribe. She’d harmed his honor and manhood by taunting him, and he’d want to mangle her as best he could…maybe even murder, if he could get away with it. The Shamans were standing by to heal wounds, but they couldn’t bring an Innari back from death. Murders in the fight pits were common enough, and rarely brought on retribution. Just another "accident" in a dangerous sport.

She looked past Kapimu and into the eyes of the crowd around the pit. They were wild and bestial; the eyes of feral beasts. In that instant, she understood why her father had fought so hard to end this tradition. The Sparrow’s Champion standing before her was living proof of that—he was more beast than anything else. The pits turned Innari into animals…

Well, if he wasn’t going by any honorable rule of combat, she sure didn’t have to. She hefted her dagger and pointed it at his war-paint stained chest. Unless she was quite mistaken, there was at least one other physical weakness Kapimu had that she didn’t.

Without warning, she charged. She jabbed her dagger towards his abdomen, but pulled back—another feint. Instead, she aimed a powerful front kick right in between his legs and grinned, hoping for revenge from his sucker punch. It was a dirty tactic, but then again, this was a dirty fight.

He really shouldn’t have broken her nose.

[Revenant]

Now you belong to Kapimu, the innari brute grinned victoriously as Nayeli stumbled backwards, stunned by the raw power of Kapimu’s punch. The warrior couldn’t help but laugh at the sight of his taunting opponent flopping about, gaping like an aired out fish. Her thick eyelids opened and closed spasmodically over her glazed eyes, which lolled about, looking for anything to focus on. The symptoms were unmistakable and Kapimu knew that he had nearly knocked the tiny woman unconsciousness in a single blow.

Nothing but talk, Kapimu thought scornfully, turning his back to the struggling goblin in order to bask in the glow of the cheering crowd who roared their approval. The Boar Chieftain’s daughter had held the crowd’s bloodthirsty loyalty at the duel’s start, but Kapimu would use her blood to take it back by the fight’s finish. Pumping his spear in the air, Kapimu whooped and hollered his tribe’s battle cry, playing on the crowd’s excitement before turning his attention back to his opponent.

Looks like the bitch has some innari blood in her after all, he observed as he saw the hard-eyed anger that shone in Nayeli’s now lucid gaze. Her eyes told Kapimu all he needed to know about the hatred, fear, and disgust that Nayeli regarded him with, and Kapimu relished it. Taking a good look at her for the first time since entering the dueling pit, Kapimu noted how truly attractive she was.

I would have taken her to my bed after the duel, Kapimu lasciviously eyed her body, but the bitch insulted Kapimu too much. Now nothing stops Kapimu from taking every bit of the honor back from her pretty green skin in blood.

Seemingly out of nowhere, Nayeli readied her tiny dagger and sprang across the pit at the larger warrior. It was a bold shift of aggression, and would likely have caught a normal warrior off guard, but Kapimu was a Sparrow Champion, no normal warrior. He had survived too many life-and-death encounters to count, and his trained warrior’s senses could read the tiniest details of his opponent’s intentions. Often, Kapimu found that he knew an opponent’s next move before they did. Child’s play, he thought, bringing his spear across to deflect the weak dagger thrust.

Thinking nothing of her attack, the massive warrior almost missed the sneaky kick towards his manhood that followed. Warned at the last second by his instincts, Kapimu twisted his hips and brought his massive thigh inward to deflect the kick. Pain flared along his right side, telling Kapimu that he hadn’t quite been quick enough, but the pain was far less than it could have been.

“Damned whore-witch,” Kapimu roared in pain, and forcefully swung the wooden haft of his spear around towards Nayeli’s gut while he hobbling backward, zestfully rubbing his groin to bring some relief to his grazed testicles.

[Nayeli]

Once again, all bunnies (http://imagecache2.allposters.com/images/PTGPOD/OSHAM-00004313-001-FB.jpg) approved and discussed via PM, and free to graze in fields of clover and be fluffy and adorable.
The butt of Kapimu’s spear caught Nayeli right in the stomach, and pain blossomed from her middle. She staggered backwards, coughing, and blood spilled out of her mouth and onto the grass below. The crowd cheered again. She stood up straight and ignored the blood trickling out of her mouth. She swayed from side to side like a thin reed in the wind. Her kick had made contact, but it didn’t have nearly the effect she’d desired. The larger Innari didn't seem injured. In fact, if anything, it had just made him angrier.

In that moment, she knew she was beat. She was too tired, too injured, and not nearly strong enough for this monster of an Innari. The match, at this point, was hopeless. Yet the crowd cheered on, as though there was still some chance of a real fight.

Nayeli tried to lift and ready her dagger, but Kapimu was on her in a moment. He swiped a huge paw-like hand and her dagger scattered to the ground nearby, leaving her defenseless. Then his spear-butt was making contact with and breaking her body again and again. She glanced up in fear—scarcely trying to defend herself—and into the face of her opponent. Kapimu’s eyes were bloodshot and wild; once again she had the impression that he was a beast rather than a thinking being. His wooden weapon struck her repeatedly: on her head, her face, her ribs, and her arms when she tried to shield herself. She felt the crunches of bones splintering insider her, and blood gushed from her mouth and nose and ears. She was soon beaten down to her knees, and then she was collapsed on the ground, but still he attacked. The crowd murmured. This wasn’t a fight, or even a semblance of a fight. It was just brutality. A few Innari—allies of the Sparrow Tribe, no doubt—cheered, but the rest stared on in silence.

“Stop! Stop!” a voice came. A tall Innari jumped into the arena and faced the crowd. Kapimu’s blows gradually stopped, and Nayeli turned her head in shock. No one interrupted a match in the fight pits. Ever. It simply did not happen. “Stop, can’t you see that this is insanity?”

Nayeli realized with horror that the interloper was her father, Chieftain Ominotago. Her father’s face was grim and unreadable. “This isn’t a fight. This is murder. You may think I am only standing up for my daughter, but think! Think!”

The crowd murmured, uncertain what to think. Nayeli was in a dim and bloody haze, but she made a wise observation that she would never forget: the mob is stupider than any of its component parts. It has to be told what to think.

Another Innari else stepped out of its midst—Chieftain Kele. “The only insanity is yours, Ominotago,” he said. “No one interrupts a match in the fight pits. It’s breaking our most ancient code, and you have acted in a manner unbefitting a chieftain or a good Innari. I think your daughter resigns automatically. The winner is Kapimu.”

The crowd mumbled its agreement, and for a moment Nayeli thought things looked very bad for her and her father, and perhaps for the Boar Tribe as a whole. When her father spoke again, however, his voice was laden with the command and wisdom of a true Chieftain. “No,” he said. “No, I don’t think so. Consider this, Innari—all true Innari. What is the purpose of the fight pits? Not entertainment, although that seems to be the purpose it exists for now. No, the fight pits were made to choose the greatest champions of the Innari, the bravest and truest of our kind.”

Kele nodded. “Carry on, fool Chieftain.”

Ominotago did, although he spared a glance at his bleeding and badly wounded daughter first. “Who, here, is the true Innari? Is it the one who uses raw strength and power, or the one who uses her wits and cunning to battle? Who is the true Innari? Think! We are not Orcs! We are not beasts!”

The Innari surrounding the fight pits nodded agreement. Ominotago continued. “Is the true Innari the one who brutally attacks an opponent half his size, and with none of his experience? And all for the sake of gaining power? Is that what it means to be an Innari? Or is the true Innari the one who steps into an arena against unbelievable odds, and bravely faces an opponent much larger and more skilled than herself, all in the name of her tribe’s honor? That, I think, is character befitting an Innari.”

By the end of his speech, the crowd around the fight pit was roaring in agreement.

“The victory goes to Nayeli Ominotago!” the announcer said. Nayeli grinned and looked up at her father in admiration. This was truly his victory, not hers, and they all knew it. Knowing that things had turned out well, she shut her eyes and finally allowed unconsciousness to wrap her in its soft embrace.

[Revenant]

“No,” Kapimu roared, thrusting his spear forward to point alternately at Chief Ominotago and the duel announcer, “you are wrong!” Riding his anger like a wave, Kapimu delivered a hard kick to Nayeli’s unconscious body, further brutalizing her battered form, “I won! The victory is mine!”

What had only been general murmurs of discomfort from the crowd turned into open protests at the Kapimu’s continued assault of the tiny goblin woman. As unheard of and taboo as it was for an outside Innari to interrupt a fight as the Boar Chieftain had, it was equally taboo for a standing combatant to strike a fallen foe. And while it was bad enough to strike a downed tribal warrior, striking a chieftain’s daughter while her father was present was downright blasphemy. Curses and profanity were spit at the Sparrow Champion from all corners of the crowd. Even the most fanatically staunch supporters of the Sparrow Tribe, those who had delighted at Kapimu’s brutalization of Nayeli, had fallen uneasily silent at Kapimu’s attack.

Eyes narrowing into dangerous, serpent-like slits, Chief Ominotago addressed his daughter’s attacker, “Kapimu of the Sparrow, I am as merciful an Innari as you will ever find, but if you touch my daughter again, I will kill you.” The chieftain’s words were cold and emotionless, yet managed to convey a menace greater than Kapimu’s bestial roars ever could.

Instead of halting the raving beast however, the Boar Chieftain’s words only seemed to send Kapimu into a greater fit of rage. The savage Innari warrior was little more than a mindless beast, driven purely by his anger and bloodlust, “You think you can kill Kapimu, Boar Tribe filth? You cannot kill Kapimu. None can kill Kapimu!” With a roar of primal fury far surpassing any he had made during the duel, Kapimu leapt over Nayeli’s limp body and charged at Ominotago.

A collective gasp filled the air. The Innari people, as an inherently savage race, were only held together by the strict hierarchal code that they had developed through generations and generations of strife. To do what Kapimu was doing, to attack a Tribal Chieftain without the right of challenge, shattered the highest laws of the Innari. It was one of the worst things that any of them could do, almost unthinkable to the people of their society, and yet it was happening right before their eyes.

Chief Ominotago faced Kapimu’s charge with stoic grace, defiantly unmoving in the shadow of the giant goblin. The Innari would speak of Ominotago’s proud stance for years to come, and word of the Boar Tribe’s courage that day would pass from lip to ear for far longer than any present that day would live to see. But Chief Ominotago never had anything to fear. Kapimu never made it more than three steps before a flood of Innari bodies swarmed over him, wrestling him painfully to the ground.

Chieftain Kele of the Sparrow hastened to the writing mass of Innari bodies, “Kapimu you stupid fool. Do you know what you have done? Cease this idiocy at once.” The bitter sting of Kele’s words broke through Kapimu’s mindless savagery, and though the brutal warrior had nearly been crazy with rage, he obeyed.

“Kele,” Chief Ominotago, still stone-faced, “you know well that attacking a Tribal Chieftain is an act of war.” No other sound could be heard in the dueling pit, even Kapimu’s struggles had completely ceased, and Ominotago’s words hung ominously in the air.

“Nay, First Among the Boar,” Kele bowed in prostration before his fellow Chieftain, “Kapimu’s act was his own and not the act of the Tribe. The Sparrow wish no quarrel with you or yours.”

“If this warrior’s actions were his own and not the actions of the Sparrow,” Ominotago replied, refusing to accept the meager apology, “then he must suffer a punishment fitting his crime.”

“Oh, he will receive a punishment,” Kele offered a meek agreement before turning upon Kapimu. So great was the Sparrow Chieftain’s ability to mask himself, that only Kapimu could see the triumph shining in the wily Innari’s eyes.

“First, Great Boar,” Kele’s voice rose until all Innari in the crowd could hear him, “let it be known that as punishment for the dishonor he has brought upon his tribe, Kapimu is stripped of all rank within the Sparrow.” Kapimu’s eyes widened in shock as Kele reached down, took up the warrior’s fallen spear, and with one swift motion broke the weapon over his knee.

“Further,” Kele continued, ignoring the mortified looks he received from Kapimu and the other young warriors of the Sparrow who had worshipped him, “let it be known that as punishment for the dishonor he has brought to the sacred dueling pits through his assault upon a fallen foe, Kapimu’s previous victories are forfeit.” At this, the large Innari warrior howled in indignation.

But Kele was not finished and, letting the musical rhythm of his voice bend and sway the enraptured crowd to his will, spoke one more time, “Finally, let it be known that for the dishonor he has brought upon all of our brethren in the Innari, Kapimu of the Sparrow has forever lost all right of challenge.” Every Innari at the dueling pits broke into a roar of discussion, passing words back and forth until Kele addressed Ominotago once again, silencing the crowd.

“I trust, my brother, that this punishment is proof enough that the Sparrow have no desire to war with the Boar?” Kele asked, once again bowing before Ominotago, though this time with a flamboyant playfulness that belied the meaning of his words. Ominotago merely nodded his approval.

“No, you cowards,” Kapimu shouted, though it appeared that all the fight had been taken out of him by Kele’s pronouncements. “Kapimu swears by the blood of my ancestors all Boar will die by my hands.”

Kele smiled as he pounced like a cat upon Kapimu’s words, “do you hear this, Boar Chief? For these words of challenge, Kapimu’s blood is yours to shed. Just say the word and I will slit his throat myself.”

“No,” Ominotago just shook his head, “no more blood will be spilled tonight on account of my daughter’s willfulness.”

Faking solemnity, Kele bowed again to Ominotago, “I am moved by your mercy Ominotago.” Then, raising his voice, “all Innari, hear my words and know that the hands of Nayeli of the Boar Tribe are completely clean of Innari blood.”

This time, Ominotago’s face darkened at the words that the Sparrow Chieftain spoke, for no Innari was truly considered a true warrior until they had bloodied at least one other Innari. By the ways of their people, Kele was calling Nayeli nothing more than a child, but it had been a long night and the Shamans had not yet seen to the wounds of his brutalized daughter. Acting more like a worried father than a pride-blinded Chieftain, Ominotago ignored Kele’s barbed words and signaled for his warriors to retrieve Nayeli and bring her to the Shamans with all haste.

Kapimu was not freed by his brethren until well after the remaining Boar had left the arena and Nayeli was well under the care of the Innari Shamans. Still, Kapimu could do little more than glare hatefully towards where Ominotago had departed.

“One day, Boar,” he hissed, “one day.”

[Silence Sei]

I'm condensing the rubric here since there was no specifications.

Nayeli

Story (23/30)

Character (25/30)

Mechanics (15/30)

Wildcard (4/10)

Total 67/100

Rev

Story (20/30)

Character (15/30)

Mechanics (14/30)

Wilcard (5/10)

Total: 54/100

Nayeli recieves 865 XP and 100 GP and a tribal skull for her victory.

Revenant recieves 150 XP and 50 GP, not to mention the shame of his innari brethren.

Good duel yall.

[Taskmienster]

Exp and GP added.