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Alora
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Spar for the Course

35th of Saun, Arc 718

To Whom it may concern:

You are invited to a group training session, just a few blocks away from
Raskalarn's temple. There are some ground rules to cover, which are as follows:
  • 1. Do not call out or challenge your fellow trainees within a break of training sessions.
  • 2. No holds barred during a match, but bring your own training weapons.
  • 3. Live steel is not allowed to anyone shy of expert proficiency.
  • 4. Trainees begin each individual or group spar session twenty paces from their competitors, to allow for
    a variety of combat styles.
  • 5. Insults will be paid in honor, injury with blood, victory with respect.


The session will begin the 35th of Saun at midday.


Alora spread fliers with these messages written on them across taverns, smoking houses, bath houses, and all kinds of establishments around Yaralon's South Eastern quarter for the entire season of Saun up until the sessions were to take place.

She stood by the chosen spot, tapping her foot and waiting for the others to arrive. She unsheathed her longbow, stringing it. Checking and rechecking it's integrity. Alora had purchased some blunted, broad arrow-heads for the purposes of this training session. She was no great warrior as yet, at least not as a weapon expert. She could handle herself in a fist fight, but those were generally scandalized in Yari society. Even so, nobody would come to beat her with a stick if she introduced unarmed techniques from Ki'Enaq while also wielding a weapon.

After stringing the bow, Alora tested the strength of the bow. It had a tremendous draw weight. It would take much training and strength for her to get to a point where she could pull it back to a complete arch. That was why she sent out those fliers, advertising the training session. There were many other green warriors and mercenary wannabes.
word count: 323
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William Dovecraft
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Re: Spar for the Course

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That morning was... an experience, to say the least. Still shaken by the frightful going-ons, William helped the poor with the famine how he could, with his gift, turning moldy foods and mulch into stellar grains and decent hard tack biscuits. The whole process begun and ended quickly, with so many hungry mouths to feed. He’d wandered into a tavern near the temple to Raskalarn, and that was when he saw that little flier about the sparring today.

Recalling the words of a shaman at a shrine to Ashan, he decided he would go, and risk himself where it was most important - training. If I’m going to help anyone, I need to become strong. Not wearing any armor, he stared down upon that naked arm of his, baring that scar of Cassion’s blood. Reaching out with his mind, he could feel that connection, more easily than the last time. Is this what it means to be faithful? To be aware of my gifts?

He left the temple, Yaal’tiesh, his invisible familiar by his side. He could see him, nobody else, but the bird-like crimson wolf trotted ahead curiously, chasing off those black Yardrae’s Kitties again. I’m glad you’re enjoying yourself, Yaal’tiesh, he thought to his familiar, but the wolf was already too far away to hear him. “Yaal!” he called. “Don’t run off too far, I don’t like those things!” The shaman seems to think they are bad omens. He glanced through the dark, muddy alleys on the way to that spot marked by the flier. I hope nothing happens.

The temple was riddled with shops eager to sell their wares to warriors. Will was able to find a simple wooden weapon in the mock of a warhammer at one of the shops, the ‘spike’ upon one edge just a blunted, polished-off cylinder. It was reinforced along the shaft with bands of metal to reduce breakage, something recommended to him by the owner of the shop. He also bought a shield, a wooden coffin shield emblazoned with Ethelynda’s snakes wrapping around a palm, in red and green.

When he arrived, he stood out. The boy was a pretty thing, skinny, but his arms were taut with muscle. Short as a nail, but he wore a large shield upon his back, a steel hammer with a nasty-looking spike hanging from the back, that wooden hammer he gripped from the neck in his hand. His eyes peered over the grounds chosen for the occasion, sweeping over the group of people just beginning to prepare.

The rains beat down upon them all. The arena was muddy and slippery already, and William elected to risk leaving his real gear near the pile where everyone else had deposited it.

Will knew some things about himself when he stepped out into the ring, lifting that training hammer high above his head. For one, he knew how bad he was, but he wanted to change that. “I need someone who’s going to floor me, but you need to give me some advice after,” he called across the ring. “Any takers?” He lowered his hammer, and lifted his wooden shield, holding it out just in front. It covered most of his body, down to his knees. A literal wall of wood. However, it was slightly crooked, leaving his hip just a little bit accessible, his shoulder exposed, and it was too close to his body. He knew very little of how to use a shield properly, and that much was obvious.

Ethelynda, give strength to my shield, he rambled in his mind through prayer. Raskalarn, may my hammer strike true. Then, he thought to the sky, and to the mud. Ashan, may my soul be strong enough to surpass what my body cannot!
word count: 648
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Cervantez
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Re: Spar for the Course

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Saun 35th, Arc 718



☠ Mood: Calm, At ease
☠ Current Thought: This will be interesting
☠ Current Theme: Valley of the Shadow of Death


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The Lotharro had been forced to wield a weapon he wasn't so familiar with, and it was somewhat frustrating. He would practice but couldn't make any clear headway in the training, only being able to get the basics down packed. That's when he saw the fliers, advertising the training session. He wasn't going to miss a chance to get some hands-on training. To be honest he saw it more as hands-on research rather than training. Its how he approached most situations or encounters he was unfamiliar with. Walking the streets to the training grounds, he was in nothing but some homemade armbands he crafted out of cloth, leather shorts, and sandals. Cerv was never one to boast about his physique, but he didn't have to, many admiring yaris, male & female, would talk about how built he was and his masculine beauty. Reaching the arena, he picked up the closest thing that resembled a great sword and found a spot to await things to start. He truly didn't want to draw attention early on, but his eyes did that for him. He scanned those that were present, noticing a lithe young man and redhead, one he knew from a previous encounter. Walking up to the Naer he had a smirk on his face. Fancy meeting you here. He said as the flaming flicker in his eye cavity danced around. He was surprised to see her here, but not surprised a woman of her tastes wouldn't be here.

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Last edited by Cervantez on Wed Oct 24, 2018 6:20 am, edited 1 time in total. word count: 291
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Alora
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Re: Spar for the Course


Alora watched as only a couple entered the vicinity, carrying practice weapons. She quirked an eyebrow at the scrawny one wielding what looked like a spiked mace. Without padding, that practice weapon could do some serious damage to anyone of them. She was about to have words with him about his choice, but then she saw a familiar face. It was that Lotharro, Cervantez.

The corner of her mouth twitched at his greeting, and she shrugged, taking in his measure and noting his choice of weapon. "Yes." She said, as she gathered the practice mace she'd borrowed from the temple. "I see you have a sword. And such a big one, it is." She teased, then put the practice mace in it's mooring on her belt.

She unsheathed her longbow, and removed a blunted/padded arrow from a quiver. These she had purchased herself, having made them especially for this occasion. She addressed those gathered in the training circle.

"Right. All of you remember the rules. Twenty paces apart from each other, then we make our moves. Feel free to form alliances or break them as you wish." Having said this, she took up position about twenty paces from either one of them.

"Ready?" She nocked the arrow, but didn't yet pull back the string. She wanted to see what the others would do before she committed to a shot.

"And..." She winked at Cervantez, then nodded to the scrawny one. "Fight!"
word count: 245
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William Dovecraft
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Re: Spar for the Course

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When Cervantez arrived, Will blinked, recognizing the guy almost instantly. Is that...? His grip tightened around his weapon and shield when the man seemingly dismissed him, and although the shield seemed like the better choice for dealing with Alora's arrows, he opted to ditch them both in favor of a weapon with more reach, to fight on par with that taller Lotharro opponent. I need to show him how much I've improved. Setting his shield and warhammer aside, he drew a padded wooden zweihander from the rack of training weapons, and held it out, looking between them both and studying their stance, their positioning. The lotharro was a bit close, so he stepped away a bit. "Aye!" Will shouted in affirmation with the rules.

Silently, he noted how light the weapon was. All of that training at the temple of Raskalarn was really paying off. His arms were nice and firm, a bit more rugged than last the man saw, and he had a better air of confidence and discipline about him - he'd really changed, for the better.

Seeing her knock her arrow, Will drew the blade wide against him, stepping out with his foot to make his body profile more narrow - a more difficult shot. She can't be that good. As soon as the fight began, Will looked to Cervantez. "Hey, you, big guy. Go after the one with the arrows first?" he called. "Let's make her put that bow away!" Then he hopped to it, running at an angle with his boots kicking up waves of muddy water, arm above holding the blade down his body at an angled guard while he tried to make himself a more difficult target. Cervantez is bigger than me, but his sword has more girth. She might try to shoot me first! The dark and the rain makes visibility poor, however. I need to keep sharp. As he ran at her, he kept an eye on them both, trying to split his focus and keep them in view so he wouldn't lose them in the rain.
word count: 357
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Cervantez
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Re: Spar for the Course

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Saun 35th, Arc 718



☠ Mood: Calm, At ease
☠ Current Thought: This will be interesting
☠ Current Theme: Valley of the Shadow of Death


☠ ======== ☠ ======== ☠ ======== ☠ ======== ☠ ======== ☠

Cervantez smirked at her comment on his foe sword. He knew better than to let this one weasel her way under his skin, he didn't need that distraction. As Alora reminded everyone of the rules, Cervantez formulated his plan. Looking at both of them, he could see that Alora was the obvious threat. She had both a bow & that mace, which gave her more versatility in terms of combos and moves she could use. He knew he would be a target of hers for sure. Looking at the other male that was here, he finally pieced it together. The runt that had interrupted his grave digging was here and seeing how that went, Cerv was more than eager to pound on the little guy some more. The necromancer still a little ticked from their last encounter. Soon lines were drawn, and the scrawny guy was making suggestions on how they should handle Alora. Hehe, Cerv would nod as the countdown was given. When the signal to begin was given, Cervantez made a B-line for Alora. Halfway to her, however, he made a sharp left, pivoting on his right foot to get the right angle he needed to sprint right for the little man. Several paces in front of the little swordsman, Cerv made a leap into the air, his foe great-sword poised above his head. As gravity pulled him back down he would put all his weight and force into a downward right diagonal slash at the younger male, hoping to catch him across the neck. If the tiny man managed to dodge in some way, he'd have to deal with Alora and her arrows. Cerv would roll off to the left side if he manages to miss.

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Last edited by Cervantez on Wed Oct 24, 2018 6:22 am, edited 1 time in total. word count: 328
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Alora
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Re: Spar for the Course

Alora wasn't surprised that they'd more or less decided to converge on her, seeing as she was wielding a bow, at range. She took steps backward while they were running for her. Knocking one arrow, drawing, and loosing on Cervantez. The larger man was an easier target, so she chose him for longbow practice.

The boy at least had a sense of tactics in his approach, turning his torso to the side to diminish his profile. Meanwhile Cervantez, being a Lotharro, had satisfied her expectation that he'd rush her, without much regard for tactics. She had hopes they would go after each other, or at least one for the other. Even so, she was prepared to deal with both of them.

It came as something of a shock, however, when Cervantez got halfway between the two of him, that he turned on the boy. When it was certain to Alora that the two would clash, she'd dash to the side, behind the Lotharro. Once there, she'd stop in her stride, then take aim once again. Having missed the first time, she corrected her aim for distance, and shot Cervantez in his back. Whether the first arrow hit or not, she'd draw another practice arrow. Tucking it into the bowstring, she'd draw and loose, correcting her aim if the previous one missed. Or keeping it at the same position if it had hit.

Once she'd done this, Alora would try to make more distance between herself and the two, taking pot shots as necessary. If either one of them made a move to engage her, she'd sling her bow to the side and draw her padded mace.

She had a feeling they all were going to have so much fun together.
word count: 299
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William Dovecraft
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Re: Spar for the Course

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William just knew the man he’d fought before couldn’t let go of his grudge. A nagging suspicion kept his guard angled towards the man, and when he saw him getting too close for comfort, he lifted both hands of his sword and turned to take the strike against the blade, feeling it rattle. In the thrill of the battle, his mind was kept clear of all else. Twisting, he turned and took a diagonal slash down, and then stepped back when he saw that arrow from Alora being loosed. In a moment, he looked at her, acknowledging her location, watching her steps as he backpedaled, turning to keep Cervantez pinned between them like the fat kid between two teams on a dodgeball court. He’s a lot less scarier without a big metal sword! That thing’s gonna hurt if it smacks me though.

“Shoulda listened to me!” Will said, smirking. When Cervantez took that powerful swing, so slow and telegraphed, Will hopped back to so narrowly void the powerful blow, and with a brisk step he countered fast by striking down against Cervantez’ blade to pin it against the ground, walking it in and lifting his boot to kick the blade down and step on it - this left his shoulder exposed to Alora, but Cervantez would have to struggle trying to lift his sword, and he knew the small sliver of his own body was nothing compared to the big, juicy target that was the Lotharro. Will was a lot stronger than before - he held his own, really throwing his body weight down into that steady pressure exerted on Cervantez’ sword. It was clear he’d been training for this. His mind seethed with cockiness, bringing more thoughts to the foray, and words as well. “We could’ve worked together, but no, you just had to go and be a child!” he taunted, holding his tongue about the incident. Cervantez was William’s rival, but he wasn’t about to defame him for the sake of it. Even if he might be a mage - the man had a point about those bodies, as disrespectful as it was. I need to try and not let my morality get in the way... this world is about the spirits, the soul.
word count: 388
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Cervantez
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Re: Spar for the Course

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Saun 35th, Arc 718



☠ Mood: Annoyed
☠ Current Thought: Wont make that Mistake again.
☠ Current Theme: Valley of the Shadow of Death


☠ ======== ☠ ======== ☠ ======== ☠ ======== ☠ ======== ☠

Well things seemed to turn out different than he thought, given his current predicament. He was stuck between a rock and a hard place in all sense of the word. The scrawny male at his front, putting on his weight into holding the lotharen's sword into the ground. To add to his frustrations, Alora was pelting his back with blunted projectiles and it was really starting to piss him off. Snarling he had to think quickly on how to ease the growing irritation of this pincer attack he was in. Granted he knew he was the best target, he posed the biggest threat, and both of them were proving this fact true enough. He needed to put one of them out of commission first, or at least get them to yield, but the question is who? First things were first however, he needed to get his weapon free. The ground was wet and an idea hit him, and a toothy smirk painted his face. Stilling holding on to the hilt of the foe sword, he leaped back as far as he could, sliding across the wet and slushy ground, and with all the strength he could muster in that moment, he wrenched the sword from the pressure.

He figured that by doing so, because the scrawny foreigner had put so much of his weight into the hold, he would fall and be dis-balanced by the necromancer pulling his blade from underneath him. Scrambling to his feet, Cerv got some distance from them both, catching his breath and re-evaluating his plan. He needed to be more careful, as the blonde had obviously improved since their last little rendezvous. His body was ringing with the stings from the arrows the naerik hit him with. But the one thing he could bank on was that he would last far longer than them, for once actually finding his father's blood to be of some use to him. I won't make that mistake again. He said in a hushed low whisper.


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Last edited by Cervantez on Wed Oct 24, 2018 6:24 am, edited 1 time in total. word count: 376
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Alora
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Re: Spar for the Course

Alora peppered the Lotharro's back with blunted arrows. Most of them missed, some appeared to land. Point blank shots were more difficult than practiced archers made it look, that was for sure. Besides, she was pleased with her progress.

As the fight progressed, she got bored of standing in the background, sending hails of arrows at the two competitors. With a sigh, she let off one last blunted arrow, taking aim with it at the back of the Lotharro's cranium. Once it was away, she replaced her longbow in it's sleeve that was slung over her back.

This done, she drew the practice mace, spinning it around in her hand with a flourish as she advanced on the two.

This time, she had it in mind to help the lovely Lotharro with his opponent. Winding her way around them, she stepped sideways about a dozen feet behind the kid. As they struggled with their entangled swords, she took a few steps toward the boy. A few more, and she rolled forward, aiming a sweeping kick at his ankles.

If they connected, or brought him low, she'd strike him with the blunt mace. Once, twice, thrice, or as many times as it took before one of her blows landed on the hapless kid.

If at any point she heard the Lotharro approaching, she would deliver a back kick in his direction, hoping to catch him on the knee or groin. You know, aiming for the soft, vulnerable points in his anatomy.

She felt good about her chances, though now she found herself sandwiched between the two.


word count: 269
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