2020-11-07 – Contact sports – downtime – Dwirhian
Dec 6, 2020 13:16:45 GMT
Lykksie and Delilah Daybreaker like this
Post by Dwirhian on Dec 6, 2020 13:16:45 GMT
You don’t remember seeing this fighter before, but she seems to know some of the other regular spectators and contestants at the warehouse – you see her greeting them with hugs and back-slaps and clasping of hands as she makes her way through the crowd.
Carlin! she shouts merrily when she reaches the ring-side and catches sight of her waiting opponent. The stocky half-orc grins and then lets out a small exclamation of surprise as the elven woman flings her arms around him. He only hesitates a moment before returning the hug.
They chat for a while, and though you can’t hear most of what they say, your attention is held by the sight of the odd pair. Carlin is broad, muscular, his skin grey-green, his greying black hair tied in a top-knot and hanging down his bare back, his stance cross-armed and steady. The other figure is taller, skinny, her skin silver-blue, hair shaved to silver stubble, and she seems to be always moving – waving her long fingers, shifting her weight, stretching. You find yourself thinking it’s like watching a conversation between a waterfall and a tree.
Thinking of waterfalls makes you realize your mouth is rather dry, so you head over to the side of the warehouse where Bucket the goblin is selling what a charitable soul might call ‘drinks’. By the time you get back to the ring, the announcer is calling on the match. Her powerful voice first declares Carlin Mikitstala a veritable, indubitable, indisputable pillar of this establishment – which is confirmed by generous cheers and applause from the crowd – and then introduces the woman as Dwirhian of Galavir, taking part in only her second tournament here at MacAdams’ Arena of Glory. The applause at this is less enthusiastic but Dwirhian still gives the crowd a warm smile and wave as she steps lightly into the ring.
The newcomer’s fighting style is unusual and unpolished. She stays close to the boxer, almost always keeping contact with him, using a hand, a forearm, a shoulder, a knee to try to control and hamper his movement, and then occasionally unleashing sharp, short-range punches and kicks where she finds an opening. Often she twists and slides around Carlin, dodging or ducking his punches and rolling her body around him to one side or other, sometimes even ending up back-to-back with him for a few moments before they both spin round and engage again. At times it looks more like dancing than fighting.
The theory seems plausible, but the elf’s technique is messy and inconsistent. Despite her blocking and twisting, Carlin still manages to land plenty of punches; and Dwirhian’s own attacks seem rather hit-and-miss. Still, it makes for an entertaining fight – and a long one, as neither fighter is able to land a knock-out blow.
After a while, both are obviously beginning to tire. Carlin is getting slow; Dwirhian is getting sloppy. An uppercut to her torso knocks the wind out of her and she stumbles. Carlin throws his other fist toward her jaw but she’s already turning and dipping, her leg already sweeping round for a kick. His punch clips the top of her head and unbalances her further; her kick lands off-target and hard on the side of his knee. Carlin’s leg buckles and the sturdy half-orc is falling.
The heads of your fellow spectators block the sight of Carlin hitting the floor but the sound of the impact is loud and horrible in the startled hush. Everyone is crowding forward, and the jostling opens you a line of sight to Carlin on the ground, unmoving, blood pooling under his head. People in the crowd are shouting: healer! Carlin’s down! but Dwirhian is already there, kneeling beside him. You glimpse her lips moving; and now Carlin is stirring, his eyes opening.
A moment later a tall half-orc is squeezing past you – Baine, the young soldier who fights here sometimes. It’s fine, he’s saying in a loud but calm voice. Let me through, I can fix this. He pushes into the ring and drops down quickly to Carlin, saying something to him and he slips a glowing palm under the fallen man’s head and places the other on his forehead.
In another moment or two the site medic and a few others are gathering around Carlin as well, who is now starting to sitting up and protest that he’s fine, everything’s fine. Dwirhian seems to be conferring with Baine, then turns to look around – her eyes fix on you and she reaches up (still kneeling on the floor) and presses a couple of coins into your hand. Hey hon, she says, could you run and get him a drink?
When you get back with a cup of ale (or something like it) and another of water, you find the ring cleared and Carlin sitting at a table near by with Baine, Dwirhian, and a couple of other MacAdams regulars. He seems to be fine, though there’s still some blood on his hair and neck, and is chatting easily with the others. Dwirhian is rummaging in a small bag and as you approach you hear her muttering in what sounds like Elvish, and in a tone of voice that sounds like cursing, though you don’t recognize any of the Elvish swear-words you know.
Amazing, thank you so much! says the elven woman when she sees you. Here, take my seat, I’ve got to go.
Getting up and turning to address the rest of the table, she says: Okay boys, got to love you and leave you, I can’t find my cube and I need to go back to the Ettin, see if I left it in my room. Carlin, I’m really sorry again—
No more of that! Carlin replies with a smile. These things happen. Go find your cube!
Thanks darling! Baine, lovely to meet you. Come visit me some time, we can talk more about Harnash!
And with that, she strides off, leaving you standing behind an empty chair with a cup in each hand and a table of strangers looking at you expectantly.
---
Baine appears by kind permission of Lykksie.
Carlin! she shouts merrily when she reaches the ring-side and catches sight of her waiting opponent. The stocky half-orc grins and then lets out a small exclamation of surprise as the elven woman flings her arms around him. He only hesitates a moment before returning the hug.
They chat for a while, and though you can’t hear most of what they say, your attention is held by the sight of the odd pair. Carlin is broad, muscular, his skin grey-green, his greying black hair tied in a top-knot and hanging down his bare back, his stance cross-armed and steady. The other figure is taller, skinny, her skin silver-blue, hair shaved to silver stubble, and she seems to be always moving – waving her long fingers, shifting her weight, stretching. You find yourself thinking it’s like watching a conversation between a waterfall and a tree.
Thinking of waterfalls makes you realize your mouth is rather dry, so you head over to the side of the warehouse where Bucket the goblin is selling what a charitable soul might call ‘drinks’. By the time you get back to the ring, the announcer is calling on the match. Her powerful voice first declares Carlin Mikitstala a veritable, indubitable, indisputable pillar of this establishment – which is confirmed by generous cheers and applause from the crowd – and then introduces the woman as Dwirhian of Galavir, taking part in only her second tournament here at MacAdams’ Arena of Glory. The applause at this is less enthusiastic but Dwirhian still gives the crowd a warm smile and wave as she steps lightly into the ring.
The newcomer’s fighting style is unusual and unpolished. She stays close to the boxer, almost always keeping contact with him, using a hand, a forearm, a shoulder, a knee to try to control and hamper his movement, and then occasionally unleashing sharp, short-range punches and kicks where she finds an opening. Often she twists and slides around Carlin, dodging or ducking his punches and rolling her body around him to one side or other, sometimes even ending up back-to-back with him for a few moments before they both spin round and engage again. At times it looks more like dancing than fighting.
The theory seems plausible, but the elf’s technique is messy and inconsistent. Despite her blocking and twisting, Carlin still manages to land plenty of punches; and Dwirhian’s own attacks seem rather hit-and-miss. Still, it makes for an entertaining fight – and a long one, as neither fighter is able to land a knock-out blow.
After a while, both are obviously beginning to tire. Carlin is getting slow; Dwirhian is getting sloppy. An uppercut to her torso knocks the wind out of her and she stumbles. Carlin throws his other fist toward her jaw but she’s already turning and dipping, her leg already sweeping round for a kick. His punch clips the top of her head and unbalances her further; her kick lands off-target and hard on the side of his knee. Carlin’s leg buckles and the sturdy half-orc is falling.
The heads of your fellow spectators block the sight of Carlin hitting the floor but the sound of the impact is loud and horrible in the startled hush. Everyone is crowding forward, and the jostling opens you a line of sight to Carlin on the ground, unmoving, blood pooling under his head. People in the crowd are shouting: healer! Carlin’s down! but Dwirhian is already there, kneeling beside him. You glimpse her lips moving; and now Carlin is stirring, his eyes opening.
A moment later a tall half-orc is squeezing past you – Baine, the young soldier who fights here sometimes. It’s fine, he’s saying in a loud but calm voice. Let me through, I can fix this. He pushes into the ring and drops down quickly to Carlin, saying something to him and he slips a glowing palm under the fallen man’s head and places the other on his forehead.
In another moment or two the site medic and a few others are gathering around Carlin as well, who is now starting to sitting up and protest that he’s fine, everything’s fine. Dwirhian seems to be conferring with Baine, then turns to look around – her eyes fix on you and she reaches up (still kneeling on the floor) and presses a couple of coins into your hand. Hey hon, she says, could you run and get him a drink?
When you get back with a cup of ale (or something like it) and another of water, you find the ring cleared and Carlin sitting at a table near by with Baine, Dwirhian, and a couple of other MacAdams regulars. He seems to be fine, though there’s still some blood on his hair and neck, and is chatting easily with the others. Dwirhian is rummaging in a small bag and as you approach you hear her muttering in what sounds like Elvish, and in a tone of voice that sounds like cursing, though you don’t recognize any of the Elvish swear-words you know.
Amazing, thank you so much! says the elven woman when she sees you. Here, take my seat, I’ve got to go.
Getting up and turning to address the rest of the table, she says: Okay boys, got to love you and leave you, I can’t find my cube and I need to go back to the Ettin, see if I left it in my room. Carlin, I’m really sorry again—
No more of that! Carlin replies with a smile. These things happen. Go find your cube!
Thanks darling! Baine, lovely to meet you. Come visit me some time, we can talk more about Harnash!
And with that, she strides off, leaving you standing behind an empty chair with a cup in each hand and a table of strangers looking at you expectantly.
---
Baine appears by kind permission of Lykksie.