The trial flew by quickly, each break passing by faster than a streak of lightning until nightfall had finally arrived. “Alright Orik, great job today! Since we’re still adjusting to the new additions to your studies suggested by Pythera, how about you take the night off? We’ll resume again soon.” Nadja said as she was preparing to leave. “Try not to get into too much trouble!”
Just hearing the name of that particular priest was enough to make Orik’s blood boil. He still felt he was played like a fool for the last trial, and he felt like he had a score to settle. The last place he had seen her was at The Barracks, and considering the way she talked about it, he wondered if she would turn up there again. With anger in his heart, and vengeance on his mind, he left the Cathedral and stormed his way through the Sky Quarter. Each step was more aggressive than the last, where even the citizens couldn’t help but step out of his path as he walked.
Orik forcefully opened the door to the tavern, announcing his presence as he did so. “I’M LOOKING FOR PYTHERA! HAS ANYONE SEEN-”. The door closed and Orik had disappeared just as quickly as he had arrived. It took a moment for him to realize what had just happened. His arms and legs squirmed as he felt the pressure of a forearm and a bicep pinning him into a woman’s chest. “Can’t. Breathe.” He managed to squeal.
“That’s right, newbie. Call for your mama.” The womanName of NPC: Rhonda Eskilazo
Race, Age, Gender: Human, 31, Female
Type: ThunderPriest
Branch: Brawler
Skills:
Athletics (expert)
Combat: Unarmed (expert)
Strength (expert)
Detection (competent)
Discipline (competent)
Endurance (competent)
Teaching (competent)
Tactics (novice)
Brief Description of Personality: A former Etzosi military soldier that deserted into Rharne and joined the Priesthood to attain atonement. She is insecure about the large size of her shoulders and biceps, and is quick to put them to use whenever someone draws unnecessary attention to her. A strict but skilled practitioner of the Ki'Enaq style, she is very critical of the combat capability of the Priesthood, and strives to make sure that all members are consistent in their training. She is striving to become the next Reverend Mother of the branch, with the intent of reforming the Brawler Branch into using more aggressive combat styles, instead of a self-defense oriented program. said as she tightened her grip around Orik’s neck. “Or better yet, just tap out.”
Orik tried to thrash about, but this was the first time he had ever been placed in a headlock. The inability to breathe and gather his thoughts made him desperate. “Mama!” He screamed as he tapped against the woman’s forearm until she tossed into the ground.
“Somehow you managed to fail a test that only had two options…Awkward…” She said as trailed her words with a song-like tone. “First impressions are bad…weak…hot-headed…quick to give up…I’m not impressed. In fact, I am not surprised that you lost in a competition to that amateur, Pretty Boy.” She stared down at him with her broad shoulders and flexing biceps folded across her torso. “Pathetic. I’m not certain that I actually want to try and recruit you for the brawlers anymore…”
He coughed as he rubbed his throat, trying to regain his composure. His mind didn’t even register the barrage of insults and disappointment that the woman had thrown at him. “Where is Pythera?” He asked straightforwardly.
The woman snorted and let out a huge wad of spit next to the Biqaj, further demonstrating her lack of respect for him. “You’re out of luck newbie, last I heard, she left Rharne for an assignment. I heard she spent all last trial trying to convince you to join her Charter so she could train you personally. Sounds like you made up your mind a little too late.” She teased. “So, why’d you sign up for the Rharne Constitutional and ditch all of the appearances? Were you afraid to get an actual thrashing in combat or what?”
“WHO CARES?!” Orik shouted in retaliation. He placed his palms on the ground and lifted himself up, charging at the woman with his body shaped like a spear. It was his intention to tackle her to the ground, and give her a taste of her own medicine. But it seemed like she had predicted his movement, or at the very least anticipated it. With little to no effort, she stopped his advances by shifting her weight onto her forward leg, and pivoting her back leg to the side. Grabbing the Biqaj by his arm, she used his own momentum against him to pin him to the ground.
“I care.” She replied calmly. “Oh, you mean who am I? Rhonda Eskilazo. You’d do well to remember the name.”
Orik huffed and puffed for several bits until the woman decided to relinquish her hold on him. Again, he stood up, but this time he tried to throw a right hook at her. Just as before she already knew to expect the motion, and was able to both block with her left forearm and counteract by shoving her hip into his side and flipping him over onto the ground. Rhonda let out a disappointed sigh as Orik was proving himself to be even more of a novice than she expected. “Your stance is unrefined, and your thinking is too linear. You move like a Fenrix that’s waiting to be mated. Too predictable. Where did you learn your half-ass techniques?” She asked with a stern tone.
“From my clan.” Orik responded as he dusted himself off. He had finally calmed down enough to stop trying to attack Rhonda. “I was only taught the basics before I decided to stay here in Rharne. That’s why I decided to join the Constitutional. But after I got stabbed, I decided it would be better to take my time and heal.”
“You were stabbed by one of those knife gangs and survived? That’s preposterous. With skills like yours, you most certainly would have died.” She said without remorse. “Surely, there’s more to the story than that…?”
“I tried to rescue someone, but she ended up rescuing me instead. She was the better fighter, and that’s why I decided to join the ThunderPriests. I realized that fighting for money wasn’t meant to be my path.”
Rhonda couldn’t contain herself, and burst into laughter at the end of his tale. Her shoulders bounded up and down until she wiped a tear from her eye. “I’ve only known you for half-a-break, and so far all I’ve heard is you’ve quit your clan, you quit the constitutional, you quit being an amateur fighter, and you quit when I put you in a headlock. How long will it take before you quit being a ThunderPriest?”
Orik was offended by the inquiry, but also ashamed as he realized that she was somewhat being truthful. “I will NOT quit!” He responded.
“Oh, so your plan is to quit being a quitter?” She continued to laugh. “Maybe I’ll believe that after I see it for myself. But as it stands, the only piece of advice I have for you is to commit more to your morning combat studies.”
“Why does it matter to you anyway? Why do you care so much?” Orik asked.
“I heard there was a fool that tried to tackle the Gauntlet. Then I heard that this same fool decided to enroll as a priest. I have a goal that I want to accomplish for the Brawling Charter. Having a capable fool around wouldn’t be the worst idea.” Rhonda said ominously as she walked towards a large building behind the tavern. She stopped and pointed at it, “The best knights and priests like to brawl in there. And all of them have completed the Gauntlet.” She turned around and looked at the Biqaj. “So newbie, are you the fool that’s going to conquer the Gauntlet and the Barracks? Or are you the fool that’s going to quit?”
Orik stared at her before answering. “I’m going to…”
