Trampled Plains [Western Defense]
Dec 20, 2016 19:40:21 GMT -6
Post by Altani on Dec 20, 2016 19:40:21 GMT -6
Both combatants sprinted towards one another. Altani with her spears trailing slightly behind, tips barely grazing the ground and her body poised to preserve stamina. The elder sword-master ran with blade extended to the right side, sword poised to sweep. Both moved in unison. Arms swept to the sides, as Altani spun while raising her spears, and as the skilled blade wielding sacaen tried to sunder the side of her hip. Lengthy spears intercepted, and the solid shaft of her right spear blocked the blade entirely. The tip plunging slightly into the ground for stability and to ground it so that she could fully impede his strike. There was a faint ringing in the air as the blow traversed the length of the metal blade's surface. Then there was a feral shout from the verdite haired lancer, as Altani shifted her weight and vaulted with that same spear.
An armored leg launched outwards, kicking the man in the jaw as he stumbled backwards. Altani landed and in that same motion, withdrew her spear from the soft earthen ground, the elder Sacaen rising even as she turned to face him again. His hand rubbed the length of his jaw and his thumb wiped a trail of blood from his now slightly swollen lip. His left hand clasped at the bottom of his katana before he lunged forwards, this time approaching in a more linear fashion. His blade piercing the air as he moved with a greater burst of speed.
Altani growled once more as the flames of combat over-took her. Lunging forwards with both spears primed to strike. Either one raised like an armor clad mantis. Her weapons punctured the air, but the swordsman danced between the two strikes and closed the gap between the two even while spinning upwards. His blade's flat side locking with and wedging Altani's spear before he managed to over-power her briefly and send the weapon spiraling several feet into the air before it landed upon the soft grass laden arena floor. She barely had a moment to utter a hiss in frustration before his blade came slashing down. Though she dipped backwards swiftly, her forward poise moments ago left her face exposed for a second too long.
The blade's tip slashed along her upper left temple, barely cutting the skin by fractions of an inch and slashing down her cheek before she fully retreated. It had transpired so swiftly that her body never registered the pain, though a surge of warmth was all she needed to know she'd been hit. Altani spun forwards once more, swiftly pivoting her weight from one heel to another as she began a mad dance like series of strikes with her single spear. Each one a slashing gesture that forced the swordsman to retreat step by step. Her momentum carried further, and in a display of dexterity she continued this series of successive swift spins, shifting between high and low slashes with each revolution.
Through years and years of training the particular method of striking, one her mother had taught her that was labeled "Death Gyration" as a technique. She'd only grown accustomed to it after the second year of practicing, when her body grew used to the spinning enough that she no longer became dizzy. Most people found the technique intimidating or difficult because the mind's desire to focus on self preservation created hesitation. Here, it showed. The elder Sacaen paused, attempting to find openings before Altani broke the motion and rolled to her right. For in all the times he'd been forced back, he'd never noticed that it was her spear she was moving closer towards. As her fingers grasped the familiar weapon tightly, Altani shouted triumphantly and lunged forwards while ascending from her crouched roll.
The situation had turned, and she began a furious barrage of thrusts, aiming and timing them so that the previous disarming technique would cost his life or a limb to replicate. Each time, slowly forcing the man closer to the edge as metal and metal rang out in loud piercing cries. Until...
The sudden wet crunching crack of bone and muscle and flesh being punctured filled the air. A solid, devastating strike at a critical point on the body had been made. The tip of Altani's spear now coated in a thick sanguine liquid plunged through the man's lower abdominal muscles. His roar in pain was only intensified as she slid the spear through further by gripping the mans shoulder and forcing him downwards.
Until he fell to his knees. At which point she viciously extracted the spear, and back-stepped before circling him with an arm extended and her bloodied spear raised to the sky in triumph. Her words fueled with a passion for fighting that few on Elibe could match.
"Kote! Kote'An!"
To this, every collective member of her tribe spoke as one. All save the wounded man. Their words rang loud and true to the heavens above.
"Kote! Kote'An!"
Altani could feel the heat in her cheeks. Not just blood flushed from combat, but from her wound. A large trail of slowly descending crimson filled and over-came pale skin. The high of battle fading, the pain began to creep in. She welcomed it. She welcomed that crisp biting agony. It was how she knew she was alive. Truly alive. Though, speaking of Alive...
"Quickly, fetch out healers and tend his wound."
She turned to face her beaten foe directly. Having come to a decision, as acting Khan.
"When the fighting comes...you will guard the rear flank. If combat arrives, you will be free to embrace honor and seize your glory. If it does not..you will accept the judgment of the great mother and know your punishment for defiance. I will hear no more of this! Now! All of you! Ready yourselves. This march will resume soon."
The tribal warriors began to disperse. Healers began to tend the wounded man. Altani took a knee, and slowly began to catch her breath as the grass beneath her turned red. She would let her body heal this wound.
An armored leg launched outwards, kicking the man in the jaw as he stumbled backwards. Altani landed and in that same motion, withdrew her spear from the soft earthen ground, the elder Sacaen rising even as she turned to face him again. His hand rubbed the length of his jaw and his thumb wiped a trail of blood from his now slightly swollen lip. His left hand clasped at the bottom of his katana before he lunged forwards, this time approaching in a more linear fashion. His blade piercing the air as he moved with a greater burst of speed.
Altani growled once more as the flames of combat over-took her. Lunging forwards with both spears primed to strike. Either one raised like an armor clad mantis. Her weapons punctured the air, but the swordsman danced between the two strikes and closed the gap between the two even while spinning upwards. His blade's flat side locking with and wedging Altani's spear before he managed to over-power her briefly and send the weapon spiraling several feet into the air before it landed upon the soft grass laden arena floor. She barely had a moment to utter a hiss in frustration before his blade came slashing down. Though she dipped backwards swiftly, her forward poise moments ago left her face exposed for a second too long.
The blade's tip slashed along her upper left temple, barely cutting the skin by fractions of an inch and slashing down her cheek before she fully retreated. It had transpired so swiftly that her body never registered the pain, though a surge of warmth was all she needed to know she'd been hit. Altani spun forwards once more, swiftly pivoting her weight from one heel to another as she began a mad dance like series of strikes with her single spear. Each one a slashing gesture that forced the swordsman to retreat step by step. Her momentum carried further, and in a display of dexterity she continued this series of successive swift spins, shifting between high and low slashes with each revolution.
Through years and years of training the particular method of striking, one her mother had taught her that was labeled "Death Gyration" as a technique. She'd only grown accustomed to it after the second year of practicing, when her body grew used to the spinning enough that she no longer became dizzy. Most people found the technique intimidating or difficult because the mind's desire to focus on self preservation created hesitation. Here, it showed. The elder Sacaen paused, attempting to find openings before Altani broke the motion and rolled to her right. For in all the times he'd been forced back, he'd never noticed that it was her spear she was moving closer towards. As her fingers grasped the familiar weapon tightly, Altani shouted triumphantly and lunged forwards while ascending from her crouched roll.
The situation had turned, and she began a furious barrage of thrusts, aiming and timing them so that the previous disarming technique would cost his life or a limb to replicate. Each time, slowly forcing the man closer to the edge as metal and metal rang out in loud piercing cries. Until...
The sudden wet crunching crack of bone and muscle and flesh being punctured filled the air. A solid, devastating strike at a critical point on the body had been made. The tip of Altani's spear now coated in a thick sanguine liquid plunged through the man's lower abdominal muscles. His roar in pain was only intensified as she slid the spear through further by gripping the mans shoulder and forcing him downwards.
Until he fell to his knees. At which point she viciously extracted the spear, and back-stepped before circling him with an arm extended and her bloodied spear raised to the sky in triumph. Her words fueled with a passion for fighting that few on Elibe could match.
"Kote! Kote'An!"
To this, every collective member of her tribe spoke as one. All save the wounded man. Their words rang loud and true to the heavens above.
"Kote! Kote'An!"
Altani could feel the heat in her cheeks. Not just blood flushed from combat, but from her wound. A large trail of slowly descending crimson filled and over-came pale skin. The high of battle fading, the pain began to creep in. She welcomed it. She welcomed that crisp biting agony. It was how she knew she was alive. Truly alive. Though, speaking of Alive...
"Quickly, fetch out healers and tend his wound."
She turned to face her beaten foe directly. Having come to a decision, as acting Khan.
"When the fighting comes...you will guard the rear flank. If combat arrives, you will be free to embrace honor and seize your glory. If it does not..you will accept the judgment of the great mother and know your punishment for defiance. I will hear no more of this! Now! All of you! Ready yourselves. This march will resume soon."
The tribal warriors began to disperse. Healers began to tend the wounded man. Altani took a knee, and slowly began to catch her breath as the grass beneath her turned red. She would let her body heal this wound.