Post by Varga on Jun 8, 2022 14:15:46 GMT
Continued from Session Beta
Co-written with the one and only willemf
Content warnings for blood and gore.
Varga walks through the half-open door. She stretches her shoulders and winces in discomfort. She glances around, hoping nobody saw it. The bar area is pretty deserted now that most people are outside helping with... well, pretty much anything they can. And for a moment she thinks she's in luck. It is then when she spots Yniade sitting at one of the tables. Several empty glasses lie in front of her, along with a wicked curved dagger that seems to have been plunged into the table.
Varga approaches her, trying to look nonchalant. "Nice dagger. Mind if I sit here?" She nods at the chair next to Yniade's.
The massive succubus chuckles.
"All the empty tables and you want to sit next to me huh? My brother is rubbing off on me then."
"Hope not, that'd be weird," Varga gives an uncomfortable shrug and flops down on a chair. "You look way cooler. Get to fight a lot in Hells then?"
"Yup, veteran of every fucking Avernus conflict in the last 300 years, damn good at it too." She grins.
Varga looks her over with respect glowing in her green eyes. "That's a lot of raiding experience. You're just on your own, or do you have like a squad there?"
"Depends, sometimes I'm just me, other times there's more of us, depends who's the general and who's paying me."
The half-orc nods with understanding. Then, a shadow of confusion touches her face. "Who do you fight there? Can't imagine there's enough material plane people going there to justify 300 years of fighting."
That earns her a look of confusion.
"Avernus, war, demons, devils, literally since the dawn of our fucking existence."
There's little understanding of quite that much time on the barbarian's face.
"Cooool. Ever fought the gith?"
"Once, a long time back."
Varga looks at her expectantly, like a young child waiting to be read a fairy tale.
"Don't remember much to be honest, was a long time ago."
The half-orc sighs, not doing a great job at masking her disappointment. "Well, we'll see soon enough, I guess. I heard they've got loads of dragons. Really looking forward to those! You ever killed dragons?"
"Two, at the same time actually."
"Nice! With those?" Varga nods towards Yniade's swords. The succubus follows the direction of her sight, grins and holds one sword up to the light.
"Yup."
Varga angles her head to get a better look at the blade, trying to be as nonchalant about it as possible, but still coming off as a kid in a candy store. "Made of something special? Or just really well made? Never had the time to look at weapons when fighting fiends..." She trails off, lost in thought.
"You know what's in steel Varga? Iron. Y'know what's in blood? Iron. Took a shit ton of blood but I had a lot on hand."
Varga's breath catches as she looks at the swords with renewed respect. "That's... dedication," she concludes with conviction and awe. Several minutes are spent in silence as Varga tries to estimate how much blood would go into each sword. Finally, the half-orc snaps out of it, giving up on the calculations with way too many unknowns. "Listen, I've been fighting for the last twenty years, well, a decade fighting properly. But I've got nothing on your experience. I thought I could use... a couple of pointers from such an experienced war lady," she says, trying not to sound too eager. "So... since you've clearly got nothing much to do," she gestures over the empty glasses. "And neither have I, what do you say to a friendly sparring? Until first death sounds good?"
Another quizzical look and a pretty arched eyebrow are her reply.
"First death?" Yniade repeats.
"Well, like... When you go down and can't fight anymore, and would normally die if nobody helps, but you still can get up on your own. Like I can do it once for sure, and then... it depends. Betcha you've got more tries than that," Varga averts her eyes, blushing slightly.
"Heh, alright then, no stopping it is. Ten minutes, outside," the succubus said, stretching with an air of someone who's not particularly excited about the upcoming distraction, but is content to have a distraction.
They proceed to the small pen that was used for sparring and training, especially when Ghesh was around. The few people around who were not familiar with why there were suddenly fiends around, and more so why it was okay, look quite alarmed at the sight of Yniade. Varga doesn't bother with explanations, because it's more fun that way. She winks at the gym bros in Kavel's corner and jumps over the fence, getting into the ring. She looks at her opponent and says a quick silent battle prayer to get into the 'zone'. The next moment, the half-orc rushes forward, and lands a hit with a flail, then another, backhanded one, adding a deep cut with an axe.
"How's my technique?" She winks at Yniade.
Yniade simply stands grinning, blades resting on her shoulders as the weapons cut into her abdomen. Suddenly she brings both of the swords down into Varga's neck. The half-orc grins as she feels both blades cut into her deltoids, feeling more alive than ever.
Suddenly, the succubus brings up her foot and kicks Varga backwards across the training yard.
"Felt worse," Yniade retorts.
Varga skids on the sandy soil before she stops herself. Regaining her balance, she lets out a triumphant battle cry and charges back at Yniade. The cry gives her strength, and although she's less accurate, she's definitely more energetic on this second approach at her target. Varga swings her flail back and forth, but Yniade is fast enough to avoid broad telegraphed attacks. Still, the last hit clearly lands on her graceful shoulder.
"What do you think, more strategy, or raw power?" She asks, catching her breath.
"You finished hun?" The succubus replies.
Suddenly, out of nowhere, she brings her right hand sword into Varga's gut. Mesmerized by the her opponent's grin, with a bit of blood in between the pearly white teeth, Varga feels blood hit the back of her throat and throws up, crimson fluid covering Yniade's arm.
"Dat's..." Varga says, spitting to the side, the back of her throat and nose still coated in coagulating blood. "Dat's a need trig! Godda practice dat."
Yniade doesn't reply. She only twists the blade and pulls it back, ready to strike again. Varga makes use of being free from the blade, and strikes first.
As she deflects a few shots and takes another, Yniade smiles.
"Y'know, there's something to you girlie, shame really."
Varga's flurry of attacks makes her lacking in defence (not that it ever was a concern for her), something Yniade exploits with ease, slashing the half-orc across the chest. Suddenly, her second blade appears from Varga's blindspot and everything goes black.
The barbarian comes to rather quickly, peering for a moment at the blue sky above her. She jumps back on her feet, swaying a bit like she's drunk, only to see Yniade squatting next to her, watching the half-orc with a mix of curiosity and... does she look somewhat impressed?
Varga nods shakily and sheathes her weapons. "Wow you're quick. I need to do more cardio, I suppose," she babbles, not quite understanding why she's so self-conscious all of a sudden. "I'd say you did a good job, but that's kinda a redundant - you knocked me out, of course you did!" She chuckles and stretches her shoulders. "Oh! I think that cured that kink in my shoulder I had from all the sewing. Feels so much better!" She gives Yniade a longer look. The succubus looks almost more healthy than when they started. That concerns Varga - maybe she's not that good of a sparring partner? She goes on to ask: "What about yourself? Had fun?"
"Eh, you were a good fight, felt alive for a bit. Shame it was so short."
"We should do it again sometime," Varga shrugs. "Plenty of time until the gith are here, I'm sure. Maybe I can fish a couple of pointers from you next time?" She winks.
"Maybe next time I can kill you properly haha, that would be fun, I think. But yes, it's been a while since I tasted some blood, thank you." She stands up. "Now, I need to go see what my useless brother is up to." With a final lopsided grin at Varga, she begins strolling off.
Varga smiles and goes to her room to clean up. Mentally, she plans to incorporate more runs into her regimen. Gotta catch up with the fiends.
Co-written with the one and only willemf
Content warnings for blood and gore.
Varga walks through the half-open door. She stretches her shoulders and winces in discomfort. She glances around, hoping nobody saw it. The bar area is pretty deserted now that most people are outside helping with... well, pretty much anything they can. And for a moment she thinks she's in luck. It is then when she spots Yniade sitting at one of the tables. Several empty glasses lie in front of her, along with a wicked curved dagger that seems to have been plunged into the table.
Varga approaches her, trying to look nonchalant. "Nice dagger. Mind if I sit here?" She nods at the chair next to Yniade's.
The massive succubus chuckles.
"All the empty tables and you want to sit next to me huh? My brother is rubbing off on me then."
"Hope not, that'd be weird," Varga gives an uncomfortable shrug and flops down on a chair. "You look way cooler. Get to fight a lot in Hells then?"
"Yup, veteran of every fucking Avernus conflict in the last 300 years, damn good at it too." She grins.
Varga looks her over with respect glowing in her green eyes. "That's a lot of raiding experience. You're just on your own, or do you have like a squad there?"
"Depends, sometimes I'm just me, other times there's more of us, depends who's the general and who's paying me."
The half-orc nods with understanding. Then, a shadow of confusion touches her face. "Who do you fight there? Can't imagine there's enough material plane people going there to justify 300 years of fighting."
That earns her a look of confusion.
"Avernus, war, demons, devils, literally since the dawn of our fucking existence."
There's little understanding of quite that much time on the barbarian's face.
"Cooool. Ever fought the gith?"
"Once, a long time back."
Varga looks at her expectantly, like a young child waiting to be read a fairy tale.
"Don't remember much to be honest, was a long time ago."
The half-orc sighs, not doing a great job at masking her disappointment. "Well, we'll see soon enough, I guess. I heard they've got loads of dragons. Really looking forward to those! You ever killed dragons?"
"Two, at the same time actually."
"Nice! With those?" Varga nods towards Yniade's swords. The succubus follows the direction of her sight, grins and holds one sword up to the light.
"Yup."
Varga angles her head to get a better look at the blade, trying to be as nonchalant about it as possible, but still coming off as a kid in a candy store. "Made of something special? Or just really well made? Never had the time to look at weapons when fighting fiends..." She trails off, lost in thought.
"You know what's in steel Varga? Iron. Y'know what's in blood? Iron. Took a shit ton of blood but I had a lot on hand."
Varga's breath catches as she looks at the swords with renewed respect. "That's... dedication," she concludes with conviction and awe. Several minutes are spent in silence as Varga tries to estimate how much blood would go into each sword. Finally, the half-orc snaps out of it, giving up on the calculations with way too many unknowns. "Listen, I've been fighting for the last twenty years, well, a decade fighting properly. But I've got nothing on your experience. I thought I could use... a couple of pointers from such an experienced war lady," she says, trying not to sound too eager. "So... since you've clearly got nothing much to do," she gestures over the empty glasses. "And neither have I, what do you say to a friendly sparring? Until first death sounds good?"
Another quizzical look and a pretty arched eyebrow are her reply.
"First death?" Yniade repeats.
"Well, like... When you go down and can't fight anymore, and would normally die if nobody helps, but you still can get up on your own. Like I can do it once for sure, and then... it depends. Betcha you've got more tries than that," Varga averts her eyes, blushing slightly.
"Heh, alright then, no stopping it is. Ten minutes, outside," the succubus said, stretching with an air of someone who's not particularly excited about the upcoming distraction, but is content to have a distraction.
They proceed to the small pen that was used for sparring and training, especially when Ghesh was around. The few people around who were not familiar with why there were suddenly fiends around, and more so why it was okay, look quite alarmed at the sight of Yniade. Varga doesn't bother with explanations, because it's more fun that way. She winks at the gym bros in Kavel's corner and jumps over the fence, getting into the ring. She looks at her opponent and says a quick silent battle prayer to get into the 'zone'. The next moment, the half-orc rushes forward, and lands a hit with a flail, then another, backhanded one, adding a deep cut with an axe.
"How's my technique?" She winks at Yniade.
Yniade simply stands grinning, blades resting on her shoulders as the weapons cut into her abdomen. Suddenly she brings both of the swords down into Varga's neck. The half-orc grins as she feels both blades cut into her deltoids, feeling more alive than ever.
Suddenly, the succubus brings up her foot and kicks Varga backwards across the training yard.
"Felt worse," Yniade retorts.
Varga skids on the sandy soil before she stops herself. Regaining her balance, she lets out a triumphant battle cry and charges back at Yniade. The cry gives her strength, and although she's less accurate, she's definitely more energetic on this second approach at her target. Varga swings her flail back and forth, but Yniade is fast enough to avoid broad telegraphed attacks. Still, the last hit clearly lands on her graceful shoulder.
"What do you think, more strategy, or raw power?" She asks, catching her breath.
"You finished hun?" The succubus replies.
Suddenly, out of nowhere, she brings her right hand sword into Varga's gut. Mesmerized by the her opponent's grin, with a bit of blood in between the pearly white teeth, Varga feels blood hit the back of her throat and throws up, crimson fluid covering Yniade's arm.
"Dat's..." Varga says, spitting to the side, the back of her throat and nose still coated in coagulating blood. "Dat's a need trig! Godda practice dat."
Yniade doesn't reply. She only twists the blade and pulls it back, ready to strike again. Varga makes use of being free from the blade, and strikes first.
As she deflects a few shots and takes another, Yniade smiles.
"Y'know, there's something to you girlie, shame really."
Varga's flurry of attacks makes her lacking in defence (not that it ever was a concern for her), something Yniade exploits with ease, slashing the half-orc across the chest. Suddenly, her second blade appears from Varga's blindspot and everything goes black.
The barbarian comes to rather quickly, peering for a moment at the blue sky above her. She jumps back on her feet, swaying a bit like she's drunk, only to see Yniade squatting next to her, watching the half-orc with a mix of curiosity and... does she look somewhat impressed?
Varga nods shakily and sheathes her weapons. "Wow you're quick. I need to do more cardio, I suppose," she babbles, not quite understanding why she's so self-conscious all of a sudden. "I'd say you did a good job, but that's kinda a redundant - you knocked me out, of course you did!" She chuckles and stretches her shoulders. "Oh! I think that cured that kink in my shoulder I had from all the sewing. Feels so much better!" She gives Yniade a longer look. The succubus looks almost more healthy than when they started. That concerns Varga - maybe she's not that good of a sparring partner? She goes on to ask: "What about yourself? Had fun?"
"Eh, you were a good fight, felt alive for a bit. Shame it was so short."
"We should do it again sometime," Varga shrugs. "Plenty of time until the gith are here, I'm sure. Maybe I can fish a couple of pointers from you next time?" She winks.
"Maybe next time I can kill you properly haha, that would be fun, I think. But yes, it's been a while since I tasted some blood, thank you." She stands up. "Now, I need to go see what my useless brother is up to." With a final lopsided grin at Varga, she begins strolling off.
Varga smiles and goes to her room to clean up. Mentally, she plans to incorporate more runs into her regimen. Gotta catch up with the fiends.