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Post by moralhazard on May 13, 2019 21:38:41 GMT
Pip had a mission.
Pip had a very important mission. Actually it was vitally important, because Arioch, who was training Pip in all kinds of cool stuff involving daggers and crossbows, had asked her to do it.
“Go to the Gathering,” Pip repeated under her breath. “Find Kara, a tan lady who’s my height with dead eyes and a glaive,” Arioch has explained that a glaive was like a staff with a sword mounted on it. That was cool. that so cool. Pip had never heard of anything so cool. Except for Arioch. And Thea. And Arioch’s sword, although if it was mounted on a staff Pip thought it might be even cooler. And Thea’s magic, of course, which was even better than a sword.
And the Gathering.
The Gathering was - the best. It even edged out lighting armor. Pip had never heard of it before but Arioch had told her about it and she wasn’t surprised he knew about such it since he was so awesome. It only made sense.
There was so many people - fighting with swords and axes and all sorts of other weapons. Most of them were wearing armor, some half-plate like Arioch and some full plate and a bunch of different styles Pip couldn’t really name. But it wasn’t like the Arena. Nobody was dying! There was something different about the way they fought that Pip couldn’t exactly explain. People were cheering but it wasn’t for the blood, it was for the fighters.
Pip thought Thea might like this better than the Arena.
Then - in the distance - Pip saw her. A tiny lady with a tan brown face who was scowling as hard as Pip had ever seen anyone scowl. She had really cool hair that was all shaved on one side and even though she wasn’t any bigger than Pip she had a huge weapon which DID look like a sword mounted on a stick but somehow was even cooler than Pip had imagined.
And she really was Pip’s size but the guy she was fighting was - big. Really big. Huge! He made Arioch look small and Arioch wasn’t at all. Pip wriggled her way into the crowd to watch, wide-eyes. He was big but - she thought - he was losing?
Pip’s jaw dropped open. The small lady shoved him with her weapon and he - he stumbled back? That didn’t seem possible but it had happened, and then she was swinging the glaive at him, and it hit so hard that it cut into his armor and Pip was cheering with all the rest as she knocked him off his feet and he yielded, grinning up at her.
Pip was so excited that she almost forgot about her mission. But not quite.
“Kara!” Pip ran up to the lady as she took a drink of water. The lady scowled at her but Pip was too excited to mind. “Arioch sent me! He said he wants a rematch with you tomorrow at the Arena at dawn and will you come please? He said I could watch and I want to so bad!”
The glaive lady stared at Pip for a really, really long time. Pip squirmed, waiting.
“Arioch?” The lady asked. Her voice sounded all scratchy.
Pip nodded enthusiastically. “Yes!”
The lady frowned more.
“Arioch!” Pip said, helpfully. She paused. Maybe the lady fought too many people and she had forgotten about him? “He is bigger than me and he has dark black hair and he wears half plate like yours and he fights with a great sword but super super well!”
The lady’s face lightened slightly. Well, she was still scowling but she was scowling - less? Pip beamed at her. “So you’ll come? Please?”
The lady nodded, drank some more water, then turned and walked away.
Pip wriggled in place, doing her best not to hop up and down. This was going to be so cool!
Kara reached the Arena at dawn, as the weirdly excited little half elf had told her. She had never been there before, but she knew of it. It was empty now, but Kara thought the smell of blood hung in the air all the same.
Kara’s half-plate and glaive were polished to a shine, and she had come equipped with daggers at her belt as well. She glanced at the seats and the stage below. A familiar looking half elf was yawning in a seat close to the arena, and standing on it -
Arioch. Kara wasn’t sure if she had missed the warrior’s name before or if he hadn’t given it, but she remembered him. It was, perhaps, the fight she had enjoyed most of all of those she had had in Waterdeep. Kara descended the steps, moving as easily in half-plate as she had unarmored, and nodded to the other warrior, climbing into the ring.
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Arioch
Approved
Level 6 — Barbarian
Posts: 333
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Post by Arioch on May 13, 2019 22:02:18 GMT
Arioch swung his weapon idly as he waited seeing the glimmer in the edge. To be fair it wasn't his weapon but he had been a long time practicing with different weapons; he wanted to avoid falling into a predictable fighting style and be ready to use anything that fell in his hands. However, he had certain... favorites. Yet, this day he was taking it back to the basics. He had done right by his promise to train little Pip, though how good of a teacher he was was anyone's guess. Specially his'. He had never taught anyone anything in his life, and the way things had been taught to him had been rather... visceral and without much practice. Just like birds teach their offspring to fly by kicking them out of the nest, he had to fight for the right to live when he was old enough to hold a weapon proper. To learn the weight of taking a life, and the power he held. Could he do that to Pip? It was a strange thing for him to think about that. On one hand, he had no doubt inside that was the right thing to do. It was just the way things were.
On the other... He didn't really feel like doing something like that to Pip or anyone else. It was a steep price to pay. He made the weapon spin and started to walk back and forth in the sands. It was a funny thing to know that the sand itself had to be cleaned, he never would have guessed. Many things he didn't know. His thoughts eventually found their way back to Pip and whether it would be good for him to break her in. Didn't life did that to everybody? It had a way to temper everyone's temper with experiences. And it was just never done, was it? Perhaps then a real life experience would be better for her, eventually, once she could hold her own. To see what it was to face fear and death in the flesh, the fragility of the flesh. His thoughts grim, and hard to explain.
Like dark clouds, they parted when Pip arrived once again this time with Kara. He allowed himself a small smile, that was a much better looking armor than he had seen her wear before. He was wearing his own half-plate, and in his arms instead of the usual greatsword he had about himself this time he had a rather large spear. They went by other name around these parts, pikes, though he really didn't know why. They were spears. They also had stranger things like curved swords and some conical looking spears that seemed highly impractical. He spun the weapon around and made a small bow towards Kara.
He didn't say anything this time, just readied his weapon and waited for her; and glanced over at Pip briefly to make sure that she wasn't doing something unseemingly dumb like getting too close to watch. Normally it wouldn't have been that much of a problem, but with the length of the weapons it was one mistake away from turning into something really ugly. His armor had this time a few differences; running across the sides of his chest, and his thighs were small sheaths, containing small daggers. Not that he would use them, but he had the straps and sheathes made before he finally settled on his weapon; the knives were Vaermyra's but everything else was his's.
He aproached slowly, inhaled, and entered his battle focus.
Why would he say anything? Monologues were hardly appealing, and with her communicating with as little words as possible seemed to be just... right. He wondered if that was even possible, to be able to understand yourself with someone else without the use of words. Trial and error, it would be.
Initiative
JXV5Tg1G1d20+21d20+2
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Post by moralhazard on May 13, 2019 22:05:35 GMT
Kara initiative: 0v1ptJiu1d20+11d20+1
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Post by moralhazard on May 13, 2019 22:12:31 GMT
Kara was pleased at the sight of the pike; a sensible choice, she thought. She hoped he was as good with it as he was with the greatsword.
He bowed, and Kara inclined her head slightly, taking a ready position opposite him. Her hands tightened on the glaive. The world faded away, the excited giggles of the half-elf dulling to nothing, the smell of blood in her nostrils no longer relevant. Some invisible signal passed between them - an understanding. Kara saw his hands tighten on his weapon, and she didn’t hesitate, not even a second.
Kara lunged in close, throwing her entire weight and strength into her first three strikes, quick and brutal.
HP: 65/65
Rage entered pre-fight
Reckless attack
Glaive attack 1, to hit: rnkjl8Vo1d20+7 or 1d20+7
If successful, damage: 1d10+6
Glaive attack 2, to hit: 1d20+7 or 1d20+7
If successful, damage: 1d10+6
Butt of the weapon attack, to hit: 1d20+7 or 1d20+7
If successful, damage: 1d4+61d20+7·1d20+7·1d10+6·1d20+7·1d20+7·1d10+6·1d20+7·1d20+7·1d4+6
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Post by moralhazard on May 13, 2019 22:13:04 GMT
Extra crit damage: MArX6pfS1d101d10
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Arioch
Approved
Level 6 — Barbarian
Posts: 333
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Post by Arioch on May 13, 2019 22:28:35 GMT
Swift as ever she came at him, lunging with speed. He didn't flinch, at least, not physically but there was something to be said for that speed with which she moved, it had a certain primal beauty to it. It made his instincts perk up, but just a little bit too late as she connected with brutal efficiency. Made him clench his teeth and try his best to not be shaken off and fall to the sands. It had been a long time since he felt such attacks against his body and it almost made him wish that he knew for certain that she would kill him and him her, he longed for that feeling. A kind of thrill that ran deep within him. It made him feel like a monster at times, but it was addictive and satisfying, like a hunger that couldn't ever quite be satisfied, only sated at times. And the longer he fought on, the deeper it ran. It kept pushing him through in the most hard of circumstances, giving him strength to withstanding things that would have killed a lesser man. He hadn't yet found someone like her that could prompt such a response from him, visceral and crude, powerful and intimate at the same time. The simple feeling of facing against someone dangerous in many ways. Lately he had begun to question himself on the nature of his hunger, on the being that visited him in his dreams and tempted him. It wasn't a pleasant temptation, not of the flesh, but one about other kind of longings. About conquest and violence, about cruelty and things he usually kept well hidden within himself. He found himself anxious later during the daylight hours, fideting and trying to keep his thoughts of the matter but it was almost sexual in it's allure, ever present, ever seeking the opportunity to rise to the surface. Ever wanting to be satisfied. He gripped the spear firmly with both hands and not unlike Kara had done before, in a crude imitation of her skillful ways, he spun, bringing the spear towards her body with all his body strength and a wooshing sound that cut into the air itself, a brutal gash like the one he could feel like a crack in his armor; he could feel the warmth and the pain, but it was almost pleasurable in it's punishment. And like a mirror, when that motion was completed he gripped it steadily and bringing one foot forward be thrusted the spear towards her center of mass where it would clash into her armor; metal against metal had a way to turn most piercing or slashing wounds into blunt ones, but the sheer strength behind their blows was more than enough to damage anyone, even if they were behind layers of steel plates. Attack #1 with advantage!(Power attack -5/+10) ikQHoNs51d20+3
1d20+3DamageNevermind this2d6+17 1d6+3Attack #2 with advantage!
(Power attack -5/+10) 1d20+3
1d20+3DamageNevermind this2d6+17
Extra critical damage:
2d6 Attack #3 with advantage, from Great Weapon Master!
(Power attack -5/+10) 1d20+3
1d20+3Nevermind thisDamage
2d6+17 1d20+3·1d20+3·2d6+17·1d6+3·1d20+3·1d20+3·2d6+17·2d6·1d20+3·1d20+3·2d6+17 |
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Arioch
Approved
Level 6 — Barbarian
Posts: 333
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Post by Arioch on May 13, 2019 22:42:42 GMT
[Small mistake, pike damage is 1d10]
Attack #1
hU26Akud1d10+17
Attack #2
1d10+17
Extra critical damage:
1d101d10+17·1d10+17·1d10
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Post by moralhazard on May 13, 2019 23:10:01 GMT
Kara’s first blow hit; it was as perfect and powerful a strike as she could have hoped for, slamming into her opponent’s armor at just the right angle to leverage her full strength. The feeling of it reverberated up through her arms and swept through her – not painful, but she couldn’t help but be aware of it. Kara never hesitated; she swept the glaive around with long experience, and landed a second blow, and a third, bringing the butt of the weapon up to crash against the plates of his armor, slamming him back. Then he struck back. As the first blow slammed into her, Kara realized just how much stronger he had become. The second blow was even worse; it smashed into her center. Without the half-plate, it might well have gone through her. Even with the half-plate, it nearly did. Fury and focus left no space for fear. The attacks hurt, brutally, but she wasn’t down yet. Another round like that could finish her; Kara was well aware of it. But that same strength would work against her if she tried to shove him back and flee – and regardless, she didn’t want to. He was strong; he was the strongest she’d faced yet, and Kara meant to pit herself against that strength. No fear, no holds, no regret. He might take her down, but Kara would do her worst before that happened. It couldn’t really even be said that she had thought about it; it was more of an instinctive knowing, an understanding of the fight that faced her. This would not be a long, drawn out affair, not unless he wanted it to be. Kara understood that, and she fought.
Kara swept the glaive through, the blade crashing against him once, again with her full strength, and then again, as powerfully as she could manage. The third strike was awkward; the butt of the glaive seemed to slide off the edge of his armor, glancing away with no harm done.
HP: 34/65 Reckless attack Glaive attack 1, to hit: 6PffKW2e1d20+7 or 1d20+7If successful, damage: 1d10+6 Glaive attack 2, to hit: 1d20+7 or 1d20+7If successful, damage: 1d10+6 Butt of the weapon attack, to hit: 1d20+7 or 1d20+7If successful, damage: 1d4+6 1d20+7·1d20+7·1d10+6·1d20+7·1d20+7·1d10+6·1d20+7·1d20+7·1d4+6 |
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Arioch
Approved
Level 6 — Barbarian
Posts: 333
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Post by Arioch on May 13, 2019 23:14:47 GMT
The strangest kind of dance that was as the blades and the polearms swung about them, he had the distinct feeling that the further they pressed on there was a certain... aura about the fight that expanded outwards, a feeling of dread being granted life within. Something tangible, a feeling that should anything wander within the present range of the fight, said something would die. It wasn't something that had anything to do with whether they would kill or hack away at the intruder, maybe they wouldn't. It was about the feeling. His body ached, muscles feeling like fire was running inside of his veins and he yearned for it, the next hit, the one that would bring him closer to the end. He tried to dodge the next hit, but it was more daunting than it should have been; the blade cut against his face before landing on his body with a resounding crack, blood spilling quickly over his face and hair, the metallic smell filling his nostrils as air tried it's darned best to leave his lungs after the last hit.
He could feel his heels digging into the sand through the sheer force of the blow he had received, his legs trying to keep up and help in whichever way they could to push the source of the pain back. In another time perhaps he would have wanted to retreat and try another option now, to rethink his choices and strategy but right then he didn't want to; he wanted to throw himself against her and see if he could come on top. Because he knew it was a hard thing to do, because he didn't know if he could, and most of all because the more they exchanged blows the more certain he was that he couldn't do it, and it was all the more reason to try it hard. Blood dripped down his face forcing him to close one of his eyes, squinting the other as he let out a series of wild strikes at hear, droplets falling onto the sands, with each violent jerk of his body the crimson trail started to clear from his vision.
But all the same it was just as she was getting ready to strike back after his blind attemps to keep her back, a foolish thing for which he would now pay. Would it be enough to bring him down? He longed to see if he was right or no, and if she would come through. There were always certain moments in fights where he could not tell whether or not the end was going to come the very next instant or if it wouldn't. In this case, he couldn't tell if that was the case, there was a certain gap to cross usually and she was able to do so with more ease than anyone he had ever faced. And it was in that uncertainty he decided, he had long since stepped into that particular area. Victory or defeat mere seconds await, and that voice inside of him longing for blood making pain seem like something out of a fever dream, becoming more animal than man, closer to letting something out that yearned for freedom.
Attack #1 with advantage!
(Power attack -5/+10)
PDN9K9nG1d20+3
1d20+3
Damage
1d10+17
1d6+3
Attack #2 with advantage!
(Power attack -5/+10)
1d20+3
1d20+3
Damage
1d10+171d20+3·1d20+3·1d10+17·1d6+3·1d20+3·1d20+3·1d10+17
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Post by moralhazard on May 13, 2019 23:41:10 GMT
Pure luck; the blade of the glaive had flicked across his face, and the blood dripping into his eyes seemed to throw him off. He had thrown the entirety of his strength into the attacks, but both went wide, not even deflecting off Kara’s armor but going wide. The pike whistled through the air past her with so much force that it very nearly seemed to shift the plates of her armor.
Kara’s breath rasped in her chest and throat; sweat already trickled down her back. Taking so much damage so fast was wearing her down, this fight catching up to her much faster than most did. Kara swung the glaive around at him, slamming the blade into him. It wasn't her best strike - the blade wavered off him, not nearly as hard a hit as she had managed before. Kara followed through without even a split second of hesitation, and the heavy wooden butt caught him much harder. Kara shifted the glaive and swung the blade down in a hard blow - and missed again. This time it was an effort of will and control to keep the glaive from hitting the floor; she jerked it away and back into a swing, readying herself for his next round of attacks.
There was something in him she hadn’t felt last time. Even if she had been thinking, she wouldn't have known how to put words to it, but it wasn’t just the new strength that seemed to make him so dangerous in this spar. During their last bout he had been almost playful - dancing around, trying to beat her with cunning and clever moves, and she had responded in kind. There was no cunning today, not from either of them, only a raw fury that pulsed through the arena. Whatever it was that was coming from him whipped her forward as well, speaking to something animalistic inside her, that mother-bear fierceness that she could summon so easily now. They whipped each other forward, through a fight that would end soon.
One way or another, it had to.
HP: 34/65
Reckless attack
Glaive attack 1, to hit: 6e5Bf0bn1d20+7 or 1d20+7
If successful, damage: 1d10+6
Butt of the weapon attack, to hit: 1d20+7 or 1d20+7
If successful, damage: 1d4+6
Glaive attack 2, to hit: 1d20+7 or 1d20+7
If successful, damage: 1d10+6 1d20+7·1d20+7·1d10+6·1d20+7·1d20+7·1d4+6·1d20+7·1d20+7·1d10+6
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Arioch
Approved
Level 6 — Barbarian
Posts: 333
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Post by Arioch on May 14, 2019 4:03:23 GMT
He could see it all unfolding in his mind even as the strikes went through, the first one wooshing past as his vision was red not by rage but by his own blood, at that particular moment in time missing by inches was the same thing as missing by miles. There was not a single strike he could waste while facing someone like her, but at the same time it was a thrill to put that excessive force he possessed behind each strike. To fight carefully and slowly did not tug at him with the same strength as recklessness did just then, he needed it. It was, after all, the very thing he had been seeming to seek after. A defeat. Something to crash again, against which to lose. Both of them had had their time to prepare for the current match and it had been exactly what he had wanted, even if in his mind already he could see it only lasting a few more seconds.
The last strikes by her were not by any measure as deadly as the first but they still achieved the effect of cracking through his defenses hard enough to do damage, right into that strangely pleasant feeling of being near the end of his endurance. Those sparkles of blood flew off his forehead as he thrusted his spear again looking to push her back but his aim was off, scrapping against her armor, not managing to connect with the full force of a frontal blow and the armor preventing a glancing blow from even being a cut. He should have used the spear as a blunt instrument, he thought, not unlike her; the blunt end would have been a good idea. Perhaps he should do it next time; those thoughts swam through his head as he readied himself for the blow that he was sure would end their combat.
It made him curious, why would someone like her not want to fight in the arena? Surely, she could earn a fortune there. He felt in his heart she had a passion similar to his, a similar calling. Nothing else would drive another person like that, training and fighting until her fingers splintered and her body looked like a ragged cloak that someone had stitched up a hundred times too many. Even as the next blow approached, he didn't flinch. This was his mistake, and thus his punishment and consequences. He should learn from it, and do his best not to forget.
Attack #1 with advantage!
(Power attack -5/+10)
xGy0C7YW1d20+3
1d20+3
Damage
1d10+17
1d6+3
Attack #2 with advantage!
(Power attack -5/+10)
1d20+3
1d20+3
Damage
1d10+171d20+3·1d20+3·1d10+17·1d6+3·1d20+3·1d20+3·1d10+17
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Post by moralhazard on May 14, 2019 4:22:36 GMT
He swung and missed again, going with. Blood from his head was dripping down his face, mixing with sweat to splash on the arena floor; Kara could taste her own in her mouth where at some point she must have bitten down, the metallic flavor heavy and unpleasant on her tongue. Kara tightened her hands on her glaive, willing strength back into aching muscles. He would hit her, sooner or later; she doubted she could keep dodging for long. And when he did – No hesitations. Kara lunged forward, throwing herself into another powerful blow. This time she hit again, the full strength of her arms smashing against his armor. Kara felt the combination come together, and she spun the glaive; there was no more shakiness, no unsteadiness – And the edge of the sword stopped a hairsbreadth away from his neck, close enough to give him a shave. Kara’s hands didn’t tremble; if they had, she might well have cut him. Instead she held there, perfectly controlled, gray-blue eyes locking up into his. The victory was enough; she wouldn't mark him further to make it clear. Kara's breathing rasped hard and heavy in her chest, and she waited - but didn't lower the glaive. She would let him yield first; she wasn't sure about the new wildness in him.
HP: 34/65 Reckless attack Glaive attack 1, to hit: ynd|aSJQ1d20+7 or 1d20+7If successful, damage: 1d10+6
Glaive attack 2, to hit: 1d20+7 or 1d20+7
If successful, damage: 1d10+6
((Note: damage from attack two pulled))
1d20+7·1d20+7·1d10+6·1d20+7·1d20+7·1d10+6 |
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Arioch
Approved
Level 6 — Barbarian
Posts: 333
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Post by Arioch on May 14, 2019 4:56:31 GMT
And it came as sure as the water from a waterfall came crushing down, rushing forward towards him, the first blow enough to make his entire body shake from the blow, every time they connected the sound waves crackling through the empty space of the arena like a miniature thunder without the lightning. Would it come from the left or would it come from the right he thought to himself trying to paint a pattern over Kara. Had she been trained by the military of a given city-state or had she been learning on her own? The question was answered soon afterwards with a swoosh of the air as the blade came down at him just as he was wielding his own weapon in a mirror movement, only too slow and before he could even reach the same motion and momentum she had her own blade was at his neck. Faint pearls of sweat could be seen in the diminishing light of the dawn, at the brief exertion he had put himself through. He stopped in his tracks, looking into her eyes as if he was trying to see if something moved within. It was only the fraction of a second, time trickling by, but it felt much longer than that when he held her gaze like that.
That thrill inside of him raged at the thought of defeat. But defeat was not what mattered to him, it was the fact that the fight had stopped. Grab the blade, it said. Take it out of her hands. He could do that. it was like a jealous lover spurned and turned aside, a thirst so desperate in it's longing it left emptiness in it's wake when instead he let the tip of his spear fall down to the ground, softening his grip. In his slips slowly a small, gleaming white smile was painted only ruined by the red of blood simmering through. Why would he be disappointed that she didn't kill him, right?
"So"
He said taking a deeper breath
"This leaves us tied one to one"
Said then with joy in his voice, however reluctant that thrill had been to stop the fight. It had been good, and exciting. But over all, fruitful, it was not often that he lost a fight. He longed for such a conflict, things were clear when he fought. And sometimes, it also helped him clear his mind from distractions though it seldom happened in a fight to the death. It was the simplicity of the emotions, of the moment, that which he liked. And her, he thought, what motivated her?
"Have you ever thought of putting your skills to use?"
Arioch asked then, steadying his breath
"Besides the gatherings, I mean, out there"
It was a fair question, if he considered that he didn't really know anything from her other than she had been trained by some person that happened to be dead and that she was, incidentially, almost a mute. Perhaps he thought then, it was a cultural thing. Or a religious thing. It only occurred it to him then.
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Post by moralhazard on May 14, 2019 5:11:46 GMT
Kara saw the blade of his pike coming towards her neck - but he wasn’t as experienced with polearms as she was, and he couldn’t get there in time, not even close. Kara wasn’t sure if she had ever faced anyone who could hit so hard - if he had gotten a few more attacks in, she doubted she would have won.
Arioch lowered his pike.
Kara held a moment longer, then lowered the glaive. She was breathing hard, chest and shoulders rising and falling, sweat tricking down her back and arms, sliding down her temples as well.
She nodded when he spoke of their tie, a bit too serious for a moment. A little lightness crept back in, but no grin; not this time.
The fight was fading. Kara could bring total focus to any fight, if she wanted to - even simple spars that didn’t really require it. But there was a purity of focus to a fight that she wouldn’t survive without that trance, a cleanness. During this kind of fight there was no room for doubt or fear. During this kind of fight she saw and she understood her opponent, in a way she almost never could without that conflict.
“To use?” Kara’s voice rasped in her throat. She turned to the side and spat a mouthful of blood onto the sand; the taste hadn’t bothered her before but it was unpleasant now.
Out there. Not here in the arena, then. Kara’s eyes flickered over the stage, then the bleachers where the little half-elf sat wide-eyed and open-mouthed. She couldn’t imagine fighting in a place like this.
“Where?” Kara asked, simply, a little curiosity trickling into her tone.
The half-elf jerked into motion and came running towards the stage, two waterskins sloshing in her hands. “Arioch! Are you okay?” She turned to Kara, beaming. “You were amazing! Like so cool, just - slash slash!” She mimicked Kara’s glaive with the waterskin.
“Oh!” The half-elf thrust one forward to Kara, then ran to give Arioch the other. “Ari you were really good too! When you hit her at first I thought - I thought your pike would go right through!”
“Thank you,” Kara said, politely, although she couldn’t help giving the little girl something of an odd look. She swished her mouth clean of blood and took a long drink, her heartbeat coming back to normal now.
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Arioch
Approved
Level 6 — Barbarian
Posts: 333
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Post by Arioch on May 14, 2019 6:02:12 GMT
The sound of Pip approaching did return a bit of genuine mirth to him, she was, like Thea albeit in a lesser fashion, a kind of anchor to the ground to him, to bring him back to a sense of normalcy. He never quite put much thought into how much did those things affect him, or how essential they felt at times even though outwardly they must have seemed like the most common of things. It felt different to him, in a way he never had quite confided to anyone. He focused on Pip briefly and accepted the waterskin, taking a quick swig, moving the water back and forth in his mouth before finally spitting it out alongside the blood that had been pooling inside his mouth before taking a good swig. When he was done, he let out a brief sigh.
"Thank you. See, next time someone that vas held captive by a chicken and a fat guy vith a vhip tries to tell you martial skill doesn't count remember this. This is the power of motivation, of training day and night. Can you imagine her being captured like that? No vay"
He explained to her, though he kept to himself the part that he suspected, or rather, that he knew. No one that was right in their mind put so much of themselves into it unless they were somehow, broken inside. Unless there was something wrong with them. That was how he felt, at times. At some other times he felt justified, but it was a fleeting and dangerous feeling to hold. He finally turned his attention back to Kara, back to the first thing he had asked.
"Out there, out of bouts, out of gatherings and out of practice matches. There are few I have had the chance to fight that were able to fight nearly as good as you. It isn't a praise, these people are veak. And I thought to myself, I can gloat in my own strength or ve can put it to use."
He let that simmer in for just a moment and then turned to Pip briefly
"Pip, go fetch me the blue pouch I have left by the entrance"
He told her then with so much confidence and weight on it that it was sure to be of the utmost importance, he was like a sargeant talking to a soldier in that way. He waited until the little half-elf had gone away before finally turning back to Kara.
"There might be a var coming to this place."
He said once Pip had gone away and was further than necessary from hearing range.
"Caravans have been raided lately with no survivors in sight except one case where a single survivor got away. There are reports of... Something happening on the northern territories, a gathering of sorts. Things are vorse out there, as if they're getting organised. Something about ogres, and orcs and another thing I have no idea what it is. I know a Vizard that has been in touch with a colleague of his' in Sylverymoon. Tells him the city of Longsaddle has been raided and razed. Vaterdeep is not that far off."
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