Dances of Wind and Steel: The Beat of a Wilder Drum

[Anila]

Sakurazuka Anila stood, waiting, on the network of ropes that hovered eighteen feet above the floor of her arena, and a mere ten feet beneath the ceiling. Once and again she had proven herself victorious in combat in other parts of her arena, having beaten Seether Koran in a fatal battle in the other-wise serene outdoor pond and Corona Dyne in a training session on the floor. No longer did she wonder at the reason she had been invited to be a Warrior in the Pagoda; she belonged here, and she had proven it.

The gleaming bamboo floors beneath her were a testament to the discipline she brought into her fighting style. Actually, everything about her arena was made to cater to her swift and sweeping tactics, and most of it provided a fair playing field for her opponents to utilize their own tactics. It was truly an arena designed to weed out the inferior opponents from the superior.

Today, she was expecting a challenger who went only by the name "Eireann." She knew nothing about him, but that didn't matter. If she knew his capabilities ahead of time, she could not claim a completely fair fight. In all likelihood, he only knew that she was a Warrior at the Pagoda.

He had requested her by name, though... that was interesting.

Focus. She had no time for idle musings. She had to keep her concentration as keen and sharp as the razor-sharp steel fans that her hands gripped easily. Hagane and Uindo would not fail her if she was prepared to not fail them. Closing her eyes, Anila took in steady breaths and waited for the sliding open of the screen door that would announce her opponent's entry.

He could find his way up to her via the thick, strong studs in the wall. While they would be painful to be thrown against during combat on the floor, they were essential to accessing the most unique and interesting part of Anila's arena.


~*~*~*~

In a small antechamber between the outside of the arena and the grand room that was the first part of her mistress's domain, Hissomi finished setting up for the arrival of today's guest. She always worried before the young Sakurazuka entered into battle, but there was no stopping her. She was too much like her father.

Setting the teapot on a heating stone, Hissomi turned a fine porcelain cup over and set a note in front of it. It was a tradition that Anila had insisted upon, and one she approved. When Eireann entered, he would see the servant seated at the back of the chamber, and a table before him.

The note read simply:

Please enjoy a cup of tea before our battle. Take the time to focus your mind and body, for from after the moment the battle begins, I shall not grant you another opportunity.


Sakurazuka Anila

[Seether]

"So," the figure said in a soft voice. "This, is the Dajas Pagoda."

Draped from head to toe in a 'borrowed' white monks robe, the figure carefully lifted his cowl covered head to stare up at the decent sized building before him. Although it appeared rather drab and mundane on the exterior, the figure knew from second hand and third hand accounts that it was the inside that was what was truly spectacular about it.

"Like the citadel they said, but more personal." The eyes blinked slowly and the figure lowered his head to once again stare straight ahead. Then he separated his sleeves from one another, exposing his hidden hands and what was clutched between the fur shrouded fingertips. "Sakurazuka Anila, the fan wielding princess of the Dajas." His lips pulled back to form another smile and he slowly crumpled the parchment in his hands. Tossing it casually to the ground beside him the figure once again joined his hands and sleeves together before ascending the great steps leading to the Pagoda's main doors.

"We'll just have to see about that."

*~*~*

Once inside it became clear to the figure what everyone had meant when they said that the Pagoda's true beauty lay in its interior. It was as if he had stepped between one plane of existence and another. Where one could describe the outside as soulless and lacking in any detail, one could do no less to describe the interior as vibrant and so full of color and life, that it almost hurt ones eyes even thinking about it. The figure did his best to not stare too openly, occupying his eyes, and suddenly fidgety hands instead with adjusting the hem and fit of his 'borrowed' robe, while he waited to be attended to.

"Ahh, so you're here for the fan girl, yes?" The man who had spoken was short, stocky with wings of gray at his temples and had about him, the look of a seasoned fighter. The mans blunt approach brought a grimace to the figures face, but it was thankfully hidden by the shadows of his drawn up cowl. All fidgeting did cease however, once the man finished approaching, and the figure had once again assumed his sleeve tucked, straight backed pose.

"Yes," was all the robed man said in response, wanting to keep his animal like appearance hidden for the time being. Besides, not very many people still reacted well to him, even though his kind were now common place in all parts of the world.

"Righto, if you'll just step along now, I'll see you to her private arena." The man paid little attention to the robed figures distant behavior, instead beckoning him to follow behind him as he turned and walked away.

They walked in silence from that point on. The two of them following the sharp angled halls of the Dajas for a few minutes before finally coming to rest at a large wood and paper paneled door. There the stocky man took his leave, simply bowing and proffering a hand toward the door, a small, knowing smile on his face.

The figure wondered momentarily what that could possibly mean but soon pushed the thought from his mind. He had entered into this place unquestioningly in his motives, now was no time to begin traveling down that path. Instead he focused on exactly why it was he had come here, and perhaps what he hoped to gain.

Proof that perhaps some of these rumors are true, that she is as deadly as they say she is.

Inhaling deeply, his mind as blank as he could possibly make it and with his jaw set, the figure reached out from his robes and slide the door gently to the left. Just on the other side of the door he found something he hadn't quite been expecting. Of course, to be honest, he hadn't really been expecting anything, just anticipating something perhaps, a little different.

It was a small room, perhaps no more than eight feet across and ten feet deep. It held only one occupant, seated comfortably on a large floor cushion near to the rear right corner of the room, a small and warm smile on their face. After stepping into the room, and sliding the large door shut with the bottom of his foot, the figure noticed the small square table situated near the center of the room. It held a small pot, a small cup and plate and a small note. Intrigued but cautious, the figure glanced up at the other person and pointed toward the pot. The woman only nodded, still smiling, and extended a hand toward the pot.

Hmm, perhaps a custom?

Not wanting to infringe on another's customs before the battle had even begun, the figure advanced toward the table slowly and upon reaching it, folded himself neatly beside it. Reaching for the pot first, the figure calmly pored the still warm dark liquid into the small cup and once this was finished, set the pot back down. It was only after he had picked up the cup and taken a sip of the liquid, it had a distinct mint taste to it that left his mouth cool and warm at the same time, did he reach for the small parchment.

A custom then.

Content that he was fulfilling the wishes of person he had come here to fight, the figure set the parchment back down onto the table and sipped from his cup. After a moment he lifted his gaze to the other and raised his cup slightly.

"A good brew," he said before sipping softly once again. "Are you Sakurazuka Anila, the one I have come here to fight?" He raised the cup to his lips again, waiting for a reply.

[Anila]

At the question, Hissomi made a seated bow, touching her forehead to the highly-polished bamboo floor, before rushing forward to the screen door, gesturing to Eireann that Sakurazuka Anila was waiting for him beyond. She waited patiently for him to finish his tea and indicate that he was ready to continue before sliding the screen back to reveal the massive arena behind it.


~*~

As the screen parted and her guest stepped through, Anila knelt upon her netted floor high above his head. It was rare that an opponent came so concealed, but not unheard of. Some people didn't want to be known as themselves, at least not at first. For her part, she didn't care.

"Welcome to my arena, Eireann-san. Please join me up here, if you will."

She watched him to see how he moved, knowing that anything she gained before the battle could be exploited during. The weight of her fans in her hands made them tingle with a familiar anticipation; now that she was used to battling, she enjoyed the rush it gave her. Her garments clung tightly to her slender body, yet were loose enough at each joint to grant her perfectly unimpeded movement. Everything about her style and dress was adapted perfectly for this part of the arena, and she was looking forward to using it in combat for the first time.

She glanced toward Hissomi as the screen started to close. As she caught a nod from her companion-servant, she allowed herself a slight smile.

"I hope you enjoyed the tea."

[Seether]

Ropes?

It caught him off guard at first, seeing the intricacy of the arena but he quickly checked himself. If the rumors were true, then this woman gave little in the form of mercy and gave it all in the form of a quick, and deciding death. The wolf-hybrid needed all his wits about him for this fight, so he spared little time studying the net of rope or the walls, or the floor, and instead turned his attention to the woman he had come here to fight.

She was short, shorter than himself even, but not by much. She was toned, her shape and curves emphasized by the not quite tight, but still form fitting clothing she wore. His eyes drifted to her hands and his mouth twitched into a small smile. They certainly looked harmless, that was for sure.

But first impressions, have a way of biting you in the ass if you're not careful.

Careful. Easy enough word to say and think, but to act and live by it? That in and of itself was an entirely different matter. One that the wolf-hybrid often found himself neglecting.

The way up was clear, even if it wasn't marked. To reach the suspended net of rope, the wolf-hybrid had to first climb there. Making his way to the nearest stud protruding from the wall, the wolf-hybrid first tested his reach and step to see if he could climb in his robe. He quickly found out that although it was possible, it would most likely turn out to be quite embarrassing should he misstep and fall.

Looks like the surprise has worn itself away.

He silently doffed his robe and grabbed a hold of the stud, hauling himself up it toward the net of rope. He climbed quickly and quietly, not wanting to break his focus or find distractions where he needed, or wanted none. As such, despite his small frame and dexterous limbs, it still took him a short time to climb the wall and reach the net. When he finally did reach the rope, he careful stepped out and slowly stood with his feet about four squares apart. The entire net was designed like one great big square, each second joined to the next with a rather simple looking knot and it was attached at each corner with a larger, more intricate knot. He slowly made his way near to the center of the massive net and as he walked, he checked its give and return.

As was to be expected of such a thing, it had a slight bounce to it. Which was good, and bad at the same time. It was like a big trampoline, only full of holes that could easily swallow a foot or leg, and was suspended a good distance above a hard wood floor. The wolf-mans smile had faded slightly by the time he reached a comfortable place on the net and he turned to face his opponent.

He bowed slightly, his hands flat against one another, a sincere look on his face. "Yes, the tea was excellent and I thank you for the honor of allowing me the moment of peace." The wolf-hybrid straightened then and slowly worked his left foot behind him, sliding it along the rope until it was approximately one and a half squares behind him. His right foot slid forward a half square and he twisted his torso a little to the left and then raised his fists defensively. "But the time for tea and peace is finished, lets see just how good they say you are with those fans of yours. It's quite the talk on the street out there, that there is more than meets the eye with them, and with the woman who wields them."

His smile showed his fangs now and his yellow eyes glittered dangerously in the light of the arena.

[Anila]

((Yay for no computer access some days. Anyway, first warning for me.))

Anila took the time to observe her opponent while he climbed. It was interesting to see that while he had room enough to step onto the studs and run up them like a set of stairs (the way she'd chosen to take, and the way she had designed the arena in the event she was forced to quickly take refuge in her ropes), he climbed them as though on the face of a mountain. It was effective enough, she supposed, but strenuous as well.

He seemed to be some sort of animalistic humanoid, which was fair enough. There were plenty enough of those on Althanas, even in her own native region of Akashima. They could be strong allies in peace, and strong opponents in battle. She had no idea of knowing this wolf man's strength, but it was probably greater than his intellect.

She accepted his bow and made one of her own, cold brown eyes never wavering from the golden eyes that watched her.

Golden eyes...they say that is unlucky...

"Welcome to my battle field," she said as she straightened up and planted her feet. With a flick of her right hand, her fore-fan flashed open and there was no turning back.

The fight had begun.

[Seether]

So, I have the honor of the first move?

The smile on the wolf-hybrids face twisted and soon it took on the appearance of a snarl, instead of simply a smile. His eyes glittered and reflected the light of the arena, the glinting and flickering lights dancing across their surface, mirroring his curved and twisted lips perfectly. They flicked right, then left, surveying the arena he had, up until this point, taken only a few moments to study.

It was going to be tricky, fighting on this surface. With only very small areas in which to place his hands or feet, the prospect of falling through, but not all the way, presented the wolf-hybrid with gruesome visions of broken legs, arms, fingers and toes.

Best to be careful here and move quickly, but not too quickly.

His eyes focused on the woman once more and he saw that she had unfurled her right handed fan before her, defensively. He seemed to recall she preferred to fight as such in the beginning, waiting until her opponent was either too tired, or too distracted to notice when she finally moved in for the final blow. He'd really have to move quickly then, as those fans, as innocent as they looked, were razor sharp blades that could easily slice through leather and cloth armors.

Of which, he had none.

His fists clenched and he let his shoulders droop a little. No use in just standing here.

His tail twitched once and that was all the warning he gave.

Sprinting forward at perhaps three quarters his full speed, careful to remain centered on a rope that ran in his direction of travel, the wolf-hybrid closed the relatively short distance between the two combatants in a matter of moments. Drawing the dagger that was sheathed on his right forearm as he went, the wolf-hybrid planted his right foot and with a great heave down and back, launched his body forward and up.

As was common with create lengths of rope strung together and then suspended in the air, the massive rope net acted more like a trampoline then a solid fighting surface. It wasn't quite as bouncy as it would have been had it been engineered to act as a trampoline, but it was still enough to send the wolf-hybrid sailing through the air as if he had jumped up, instead of thrown his weight down.

Twisting his knife so that the blade was pointed down and away from his body, the wolf-hybrid waited until he was almost on top of the woman before slashing up and across her chest. Twisting at the last possible moment as he did so, the wolf-hybrid aimed to slam his back into the woman, possibly knocking her off her feet, or else off balance.

[Anila]

The wolf boy's initial move had been perfectly predictable, a simple charge, leap, and slash. Anila had expected this from most opponents, and she reacted appropriately.

Rather than stepping back to avoid the blow, Anila stepped forward, launching herself into a twist. Each of her movements took her a precise distance - two knots, and two only. By remaining acutely aware both of her footing and her opponent, she could keep herself from making mundane mistakes.

Uindo, still furled in her left hand, led her around to bat aside the incoming dagger of her lupine opponent, while Hagane followed up to deliver a brutal razor-edged slash along where his belly ought to be. If it hit, it would likely disembowel him. It would be a quick ending to the battle, the quickest ending she'd had yet, and ultimately disappointing.

She hoped her opponent was not so much of a disappointment as that, but there were always fools that in their vanity dared challenge the Maiden of the Cherry Groves. They all toppled before her grace and the edges of her fans.

[Seether]

She was quick.

Dangerously quick, the wolf-hybrid realized as the very thinest edge of her razer sharp fan blades parted a small section of skin on his left side. He had twisted at the very last moment, in part because he had seen the attack as a possibility, the rest of it being because a human, and animals base instinct to distance themselves from pain as much as possible. Or it could have just been adrenaline.

All the same he was thankful his feet landed square on the rope net, instead of right down one of the many holes, and he was able to twist himself away from her deadly fans. A slight burning sensation in his left side as he twisted told him of the cut, and a quick check with his right hand, rubbing up and down his left side quickly, confirmed what his body was even now, trying to deny. It was already a steady trickle, the warm wet feeling of blood running across his fingers as he brushed them up against the wound. Amazing, that such a small incision, could cause so much blood to flow so quickly.

The price I paid, charging like that.

He suppressed his need to wince, and despite the small bit of fear beginning to grow in the back of his mind, he managed to turn his snarl into something of a smile again. "The rumors were true then," he said as he lifted his blood smeared hand. "You be a quick lass." He twisted his palm, staring at the blood. "A small price to pay, wouldn't you say, for knowledge?"

He chuckled and reached down to smear the blood on his thigh. He then drew his second dagger, which had been sheathed tight against his now blood smear thigh. He held the second dagger with the blade nearly parallel to the ground, approximately shoulder height in front of him, and about a foot from his chest. His first dagger he quickly flipped around so that it was now pointing straight up and he held it at about the same level, if not a bit further out in front of him.

Now that he was ready, for what though he wasn't quite sure, he again gave his opponent a quick once over. His opinion of her had changed in those few seconds, and where he had originally seen the curves of a normal human woman, he now saw the toned and physically perfected workings of a trained killing machine. He was fighting a trained warrior, not some street punk from the ghetto's of Scara Brae.

Suddenly, and without warning, the wolf-hybrid began to wonder exactly what it was that he had dropped himself into. Had his curiosity sent him ultimately, to his untimely death?

The question echoed hollow in his mind, and for a few moments, he was distracted by its distant resonance.

[Anila]

Eireann, she decided in a split second, was a fool. He stood, stupefied, at the fact that her fans had lashed out at him, and stammered like a fool about knowledge while letting his scratch distract him. Apparently, he hadn't realized yet that Sakurazuka Anila neither gave nor expected mercy in this battlefield, not even on the potentially treacherous ropes.

Even as he opened his mouth to speak, she was on the offensive, taking tiny steps to keep her squarely on the ropes. The knots were tied at the precise distance of her stride while wearing the geta that went with her formal attire, another advantage, and her steps made sure that her feet never left the ropes. She knew where she was without having to think about it.

She saw him draw another knife as she closed in, and she saw the blankness in his eyes. Thus far, this opponent was incredibly disappointing. She didn't see much potential here, and decided that this one wasn't even worth the time to play.

So much for a good first fight on her net, or even a satisfying stretch of her fans. The only thing that might bring this fight back to the level of entertaining was that her opponent was now doubly armed as well, so she would have to both defend and attack with both hands.

Few opponents came before her with a fang in each hand. It almost made the fight even. Perhaps.

As she came in to strike, keeping in mind the wolf-boy's blank stare, she slipped her fans in, slamming them shut, aiming to use them as barriers to keep the arms from moving. Her strike would not cause another blow, but aggravate the first, her right leg coming up to try and put her knee square into his left side.

[Seether]

It felt like a burning ember had been placed against his bare flesh, and then hit hard by a balled fist. Air exploded out from his clenched teeth like a shrill whistle and he felt his vision blacken to near blindness. His left knee buckled instinctively, even while his right locked itself into a rigidity to compensate for the sudden loss of support on his wounded side. He stumbled back, his weakened left leg just barely missing one of the holes that would ultimately spell his death, if he hadn't already written it out already. His eyes squeezed shut and he continued to shift his body away from the woman.

Shit, he thought as he twisted. This fucking sucks. His entire body all at once felt as though had just been stretched to its fullest length, and then snapped back into its form in an instant. Every muscle in his body felt both as though they had the consistency of water, and the density of a piece of steel. They say a battle can often be determined in the first fifteen seconds of combat. He winced as his right leg finally loosened and made contact with the rope. If that be the case here, then I have already lost.

Of course, that was what they said.

Gritting his already tightly clenched teeth, the wolf-hybrid took one more step backward and then once again squared himself toward the woman. Note to self, no more talking.

What they said about this woman was true then, she gave no mercy. She was also heartless.

A small smile formed on the wolf-hybrids lips.

Well then, if that was the case, then so could he.

With his earlier wound still burning like a New Years bonfire in his left side and his equilibrium dangerously off key, the wolf-hybrid launched himself forward to attack. Having learned two key lessons in the first rapid beginning seconds of this fight, the wolf-hybrid had some ideas of what to expect. She was going to use her fans to block his blows and then, using her superior knowledge of the surrounding arena, (as no uneducated fighter could have navigated those narrow lines with such precision) she was going to mount a rapid and more than likely effective counter attack.

The odds were stacked against him.

Well, this wouldn't be the first time the odds were set so squarely against him. His entire life up until this point had been one disaster leading into another, why should he feel inclined to believe this one would be any different?

May the gods bless this land for their monks and skilled healers. The solemn pray echoed in the back of his mind as he lashed out with first his right dagger, aiming for her left wrist, and then with his right. This time aiming to strike high, perhaps some place close to the collar bone.

He then side stepped to the left, hopefully keeping his wounded side away from the womans deadly kicks, by sliding his foot along one of the ropes to keep it squarely beneath him.

Well, that was what he tried to do.

((Whether he succeeds in sidestepping or not is up to you. I've done nearly too much in one post as it is. =P))

[Anila]

The problem with darting in to attack and then darting back was that it was more than an obvious tactic on a floor like this. The problem with aiming high was that if the blows hit their marks, they could be debilitating. But since both blows aimed fairly high, and both blows were committed to well before their delivery, all Anila had to do was duck.

Duck she did, gliding under the two blows and whirling with all the force of a whirlwind. Hagane came up and fanned out above her head, the scorpion's tail and the maiden's shield, just in case Eireann decided to stab downward while she was too close to effectively counteract.

As he slipped backwards, she propelled herself a few inches up and to the side, landing on her other foot and moving into another whirl, her right foot trying to take out his balance, and Uindo lashing out toward his underbelly. Foot and fan combined to be the scorpion's pincers, and so far there was no reason for Anila to think that he could match her in skill.

The only weakness that the scorpion had, regrettably, was that it couldn't well see above it, only before it. Still, if her blows rained true, she wouldn't need to worry about an attack from above.

[Seether]

Dumb luck saved him.

Well, saved him in a sense that he hadn't died. Yet.

That did not mean though, that he was spared anything in the way of pain, and pain, there was plenty of.

He should have known that his attacks would have been easily avoided, as they were desperate and uncoordinated at best. He should have known also that the woman he was fighting, with her superior skill and knowledge of this strange arena, would have used his momentary weakness (although so far, it had been for the entire duration of this so far one sided fight) to launch an effective, and deadly counter-attack.

He should have known a lot of things, but like most people, he just didn't. This was why when his foot slipped off the rope it had been sliding on and down into one of the many holes, he was both elated to have been saved by such a foul move, and distraught that he was now going to be a sitting duck. All the same, his thin leg slid easily into the hole and he dropped down to his knees almost instantaneously. It was at that point that he knew his life had, for the moment at least, been spared.

A foot meant to swipe his feet out from beneath him, or at least knock him off balance, connected hard with his right and thankfully, uninjured side, pushing what little air he still had in his lungs from his surprising drop, out in a whoosh. Because of his light frame and the power of the kick, his body was jerked slightly to the left and backward and it was that jerk saved him from having his chest sliced clean open by a passing razor-fan. It didn't mean that the razor-fan missed his flesh though. Oh, it cut him rather nicely, but it didn't cut him enough to wound him fatally, thankfully.

He fell onto his back with a grunt and instinctively he let go of his two daggers. There was a moment of panic within him when this happened, but there was little he could do as they dropped through the rope net to land with distant and distinct clunks on the floor far below. It was then, at that very moment with his leg stuck halfway through the net, his left side and chest bleeding from razor-thin wounds, his dignity as both a fighter and male figure challenged and humiliated, and his current position called anything but good, that reality finally set in.

He had come here to discover how good a fighter this woman really was. He had come here, blinded by rumors and praise, to see if he could match up with the best of the best. He had come here, in lack of a better explanation, to die really.

Any ordinary person would have given up at that very moment. Truth be told, if he had been any regular Joe Shmo from the street, he would have given up. But as he lay there, in the two or three seconds after his daggers had slipped from his grasp and were slowly drifting toward the distant wooden floor, instead of fear and regret and anguish building in his chest as there should have been, frustration, humiliation and rage were suddenly there. Frustration that he couldn't seem to put up any fight at all, when he should have been if not matching her move for move, than at least coming close. Humiliation because he had come here to fight and was instead getting walked all over as if he was some child of only twelve. And then rage, rage because he knew he was better than this and rage simply because he felt he deserved better that this.

For a moment he fought this emotions, held them at bay out of fear of what he felt he might become if he let them loose. He had always hated the animal within him, ever since he was cursed by that strange god who had visited him what seemed like so long ago. He had always hated the disrespect he got for simply looking the way he did, but hate it as he did, he had always just tried to ignore it, hide it away. Hence the stolen robe, or his hiding in the woods to only appear for short trips into Scara Brae for food or perhaps just for some company, as distant as it may be. He feared the wolf within him, feared to let it loose.

But the resistance lasted for only a moment, because at that point, his human side reverted to its more base instincts and now the two, wolf and man, could both agree that the time for caution had just blown away with the wind. His eyes narrowed as he watched his two daggers fall to the ground, the hollow sound of dried bone ringing in the air as they met solid wood flooring and his mouth peeled back in a wolf like snarl. He did not need his daggers, not when he had claws.

And teeth.

Rage took hold of him and he lost all cognitive thought, as he twisted himself around to claw at the womans nearest leg. Maybe, if he got a good enough contact, he could buy himself some time free himself. This was not his plan though, for at this point, he had no plan. He was a trapped wolf, desperate to be free and under threat of death. There was no time for plans.

[Anila]

Yield, and I'll spare you a death.

The words had been forming on Anila's lips as the lupine's weapons tumbled from his grip toward the polished bamboo floor. The stumble and drop of his blades had effectively ended the battle, and she had no need to prove herself, no need of overkill.

The words died on her lips as Eireann's dumbstruck look turned into one of feral rage, and before she could retreat a step, he was mauling her leg. Pain shot through her body, but the wounds weren't lethal, and she twirled her fans over her knuckles, whirling one of the blades at his wrists. At the very least, it should make him shy away.

The other fan, Uindo secured itself in her grip while its brother tried to dismember her wild opponent's arm, and she leaned in, rather than give him space, slicing for his eyes. No matter how he scratched, if she could blind him, she would have won.

Clear thinking is key in battle Anila-chan. No matter if you are in pain. Her old sensei's words rang through her head, and she tightened her jaw. The fight wasn't over until someone yielded or died, and she was not going to yield to anyone.

[Seether]

((Comp access was non-existant over the weekend. My appologies for the delay.))

The thrill of digging his claws into his enemies flesh was unlike any the wolf-hybrid had ever experienced and he growled with an angry lust as he reached out for more. The growl suddenly turned into a shrill whine when a razor sharp blade dug deep into the back of his exposed right forearm, slicing the flesh clean open and nearly to the bone. The pain lasted only a moment however, as it only fueled his rage further, and he instinctively ducked to his left and rolled. Amazingly, although he wouldn't have known as such, the small structure of his legs allowed him to easily free himself from the rope net and he rolled quickly to his hands and feet.

The growl returned at that point, low and deep in the back of this throat and he wasted little time in surveying his opponent. He lunged forward, stopped just short of where the woman was standing and pushed himself quickly to the right and around the woman. He twisted himself as he moved, so that he never presented a clear target to her deadly fans and the instant he landed he ran a few feet forward before he twisted himself back around to run back to his left. This time he didn't get quite as close to the woman, but did feint a swipe at her side, attempting to draw her into attacking him.

He was toying with her, testing her. The growl took on a sort of feral laughter and he twisted around to sprint back to his right, away from the woman. He then twisted again and dashed quickly back to his left, toward the place where he had first come up onto the net.

He might not have been thinking clearly but something in him was; he needed to open this playing field up. Get things moving.

As he sprinted a distant and the currently silent part of his mind began to notice that his right arm wasn't acting quite like it should.

[Anila]

((One time warning for you; putting us even.))

Anila was bleeding and her leg hurt, but her opponent was bleeding worse, just from the cut on his arm. He might be debilitated; for her, it would hurt to move if she allowed herself to focus on her leg. The difference between them was that she was stationary, he was mobile. His heart would beat faster and more blood would spill. He ran the risk of bleeding out, and then she would just limp down the pegs and summon the monks to heal him.

When he came close to her, she lashed out, lunging forward and slashing at him, but somehow he always evaded her fans. Each of his movements were designed to take him further away from her, perhaps open the playing field up to wider action. That would suit him better, perhaps he thought, but Anila saw no need to waste the energy.

As his last movement drew him further from her, she set herself, the ball of her right foot balanced on one of the tight knots, and her injured left leg pulled up and to her side. She was profile to her opponent, her face turned fully to him. Both fans were unfurled and gleaming with deadly intent, Uindo low, at her waist, and Hagane held high above her head - this was the Crane stance.

She could try once more to end it before it had to get deadly, and maybe he would listen, though she doubted it, in his feral state.

"Yield now, Eireann-san, and I will spare you and summon medical assistance for you. If you do not yield, you will die."

[Seether]

((Unfortunately, I think I've pretty much exceeded any sort of time constriction on this thread, making it rather pointless to continue.

I'm sure this probably looks like an easy way out of a bad situation but in truth, there really is no easy way. Either way I lose, fair and square. =)

As it is however, I find myself unable to complete this thread with this character, as I simply have lost all the will to continue with him [at this time].

So, in respect to formality, I am officially posting my surrender [or something along those lines.]

I will post a second, less formal post in the challenges thread.

~Cheers))

[Karuka]

Due to Seether's forfiet, Anila is the winner of the battle. Her current winning streak is 3, and her Warrior bonus at this time is +4% EXP.

[Call me J]

As is generally my prerogative with incomplete threads, the commentary on this is going to be limited. However, the scores in many categories suffered as a result of this battle being left incomplete.

Anila
Total Score- 56.5

• STORY ~ 15.5/30

Continuity (3) ~ I really have no idea if this battle mattered at all in the grand scheme of things.

Setting (6) ~ The battlefield was the closest thing I had to insight into character here. Also, see my comments in pacing

Pacing (6.5) ~ I really liked the way both you and Seether approached this battle strategically, trying to weigh what you could gather from rumors and appearances.

• CHARACTER ~ 15/30

Dialogue (5) ~ It was generally limited.

Action (5) ~ Most of this thread was just battle and reacting to battle. However, I felt that there was nothing interesting about the way these characters reacted. This comment applies to both of you.

Persona (5) ~ I didn’t really feel like you had a great understanding of what made your character tick. Knowing your character really helps you. I felt that you’ve made this character who battles and has a consistent personality, but I really don’t get any feel for why her personality is the way it is, or why she fights. Consistency is good, but that’s not enough.

• WRITING STYLE ~ 21/30

Mechanics (9) ~ Almost flawless.

Technique (4) ~ The setting was sorely underused for imagery and metaphor.

Clarity (8) ~ I’m loathe to give scores higher than an eight in clarity when there is little technique, because the degree of difficulty in clarity is substantially less.

• Wild Card (5) ~ I’m really upset this thread didn’t finish. The first time I was really sucked into the battle was your last post.

Seether
Total Score- 49

• STORY ~ 17/30

Continuity (5) ~ There were really too many unanswered questions here for me to justify a higher score.

Setting (5) ~ Your reactions to the setting were generally underwhelming and didn’t add anything to the thread.

Pacing (7) ~ See Anila’s comments. I think you were just a little bit better in this regard.

• CHARACTER ~ 16/30

Dialogue (5) ~ No comment.

Action (5) ~ See Karuka’s comments.

Persona (6) ~ You seem to have developed a good enough sense of who your character is, I’m sorry to hear you won’t be playing him anymore.

• WRITING STYLE ~ 15/30

Mechanics (5) ~ Read the things you write out loud at least once. You have some phrases that, while fine grammatically, are inelegant to the point of being as distracting as grammatical errors.

Technique (4) ~ See Anila’s comment for technique. Also, it would help you if you picked metaphors that matched things that relate to your character.

Clarity (6) ~ Mechanics made this a bit weaker than it should have been. Also, you sometimes fall into traps where you belabor a point too much.

• Wild Card (1) ~ I’m inclined to give you as few points here as possible given the point at which the thread ended.

Spoils

Anila receives 790 EXP and 150 GP
Seether receives 225 EXP

GP awarded as per Pagoda rules. The result is irrelevant on Pagoda standings due to forfeit.

[Karuka]

EXP/GP ADDED!