Training For the ancient story
Are Jormsson
Cobbler / Leatherworker

Age: 23 | Height: 6'4" (193cm) | Race: Accepted | Nationality: Outlander
Level: 3 - Strg: 20 - Dext: 12 - Endr: 20 - Luck: 6
Played by: Wiggen Offline
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Posts: 301
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#1


Are
Sunrise, and a cobbler with the gall to call himself a warrior rose with it. A pack of boiled leather pieces and the stuffed knapsack already waiting by the door, waiting for a certain someone to shirk the calling of his old craft to hone his new. An hone it he would. Swift steps through the cold Leafchange morning towards grounds more suited to a whole day of training than those of his half sunken home. A workshop pretending to be a home pretending to be a training ground was no place for one with barely enough skill to not hurt himself, let alone hurt an opponent. So off to the guild he went.

There was more movement than he had expected, people already throwing up a little dust from the now almost stone-like hard packed dirt. That feeling of being an impostor, out of place, always managed to nestle itself in amongst the myriad of other little doubts, gnawing away at his conscious. A feeling he knew far too well to be hoping that it would ever go away, so instead he ran. A few laps to make it seem like he knew what he was doing, to get the blood going and take the ever prying looks off him. To make him just another one in the crowd, even if he tended to poke a bit over it.

The long padded jacket finally felt as it was in it's element, comfortable even, in the cool morning. Warm enough to keep him from freezing but not so much that it left him a panting puddle of sweat. Blessed be the breeze that touched the training grounds, he thought as he started to strap on hardened leather, making ready for sparring, but with what partner? Last time didn't exactly serve him well and he was hankering for a rematch, but thankfully the Draugr seemed to shun the slowly rising sun so instead Are was left looking around for someone hankering for a bout or two.

Cera
Force and magic use OK.
Cera Novik
Metalsmith / Medic

Age: 22 | Height: 5'5 | Race: Attuned | Nationality: Outlander
Level: 1 - Strg: 16 - Dext: 12 - Endr: 12 - Luck: 6
Played by: Brit Offline
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Posts: 79
MP:
#2
-CERA-

The morning child wanders through the settlement, early light awash against his bare arms. A cool breeze drifts against his skin, tousling his long hair until it bothers him enough to tie it into a bun. Easy enough without an elastic, tucking the edges into itself at the back of his head. There are no plans for the day, though there rarely are any to begin with. After meeting Phoebe and Granger, a shape of a plan had slowly been building, but it would certainly not happen overnight. Instead he had made it a more minor goal to slowly make his way through the settlement, learning of its 'guilds' that he'd been informed of.

Where he is is both meaningless and unknown, but he's surely not alone. Verdant eyes scan across the horizon, the crumbling domiciles and patchwork fences. It's beautiful in its own way, the dilapidation caused by time and ruin. It pulls his feet onward, curious to see what lies in this section of town.

Instead he ventures upon a weird...conglomeration of a building, with a figure jogging around in circles. Intrigued, Cera draws closer. He'd certainly had luck in the past with sticking his big nose into things - had often made many friends that way. Cera tries not to feel creepy as he wanders forth, watching the man beginning to put a sort of leather armor over his limbs. Curiosity tugs at his mind, and he calls forth a bit tentatively.

"Are you preparing for a fight, sir?" He calls out, eyes seeking out a partner as there seem to be no weapons in sight. Clearly not looking to venture out against a more serious threat, he would assume, unless the man had magic or some other ability Cera was unaware of. Not that Cera believed magic should be solely relied upon, there was worth in physical backup plans.
Are Jormsson
Cobbler / Leatherworker

Age: 23 | Height: 6'4" (193cm) | Race: Accepted | Nationality: Outlander
Level: 3 - Strg: 20 - Dext: 12 - Endr: 20 - Luck: 6
Played by: Wiggen Offline
Change author:
Posts: 301
MP:
#3


Are
A voice he didn't recognize, belonging to a face he hadn't seen amidst his neighbors nor among the market's crowd. Slim and refined, yet his hands spoke far more to Are than his face; hands of a fellow craftsman. "Heill ok sæll, stranger!" he greeted the man and flashed him a sincere smile, colored by equal parts relief and eagerness. Neither fangs nor a pale face was a good sign, and the fact that he was there proved idle talk was not the only thing on the agenda.

"A fight indeed!" Are exclaimed and produced his blunted axe from the pack, giving his shield a little tap as if to assert both their purpose. "Well, a friendly one at least, not hankering to get chewed up all too bad, never know when there's need for the sharp axe in these times." a little nervous laugh escaped as he touched on the seriousness of the matter. The fact that he wasn't training for some far off lofty goal but for the very real threat among them had the joke falling flat, at least to him.

"I'm Are by the way, sorry, I get carried away. Care to join me?" he finally remembered his manners and the smile renewed by a touch of that stubborn cheerfulness.
Force and magic use OK.
Cera Novik
Metalsmith / Medic

Age: 22 | Height: 5'5 | Race: Attuned | Nationality: Outlander
Level: 1 - Strg: 16 - Dext: 12 - Endr: 12 - Luck: 6
Played by: Brit Offline
Change author:
Posts: 79
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#4
-CERA-

A slew of words Cera cannot parse booms from the strange man, prompting a wide grin to his own face. He can't help it, energy is infectious for Cera, and already this stranger is like a shot of pure adrenaline to the bloodstream. He wanders closer, fingertips twitching with the need to touch, grab, move. Trace over the leather on Are's form, figure out how it was made, what manner of stitching, how many layers, the method of tanning and shaping...

It takes Are's booming voice to snap him out of his blatant eye-fucking of the armor, and his cheeks are a little warm as the words register. His grin turns a little sharp, mischievous and eager in the shadows of the corners of his lips. The golden boy knows he's at a disadvantage in many ways - out of shape, unfamiliar with the limits and strengths of this particular body, far smaller in frame compared to Are - but his blood thrums hot for the challenge nonetheless. Never let it be said that Cera was a sore loser.

"Good thing for you that I'm friendly then, huh?" Cera teases, laughter pealing from his tongue as he strides forward more confidently to meet in the middle of the flat, dusty earth. "Any spare bits laying around or am I gonna have to steal that axe from you?" Emerald eyes sparkle as the words fall, the itch mounting as the moment draws closer. This was about more than helping Are by supplying him a ready partner - the nervous thread to his laughter was not unnoticed, and Cera would happily tease, cajole, and be pushed around in equal measures to lighten the stranger's shadowed eyes. He spots a thin training spear and nimbly snatches it up, twirling it a few times to get used to the weight and length before ambling back towards the absolute behemoth of a man before him.

Ah, finally a name! Cera stretches his arms leisurely, limbering up and tightening his hair into his trademark bun. "I'm Cera, and you've got yourself a partner. I'm sure you'll knock me right to the dirt - I'm afraid I'm a little rusty on two legs - but I'll try to get you warmed up," he says with a shy grin, relaxing into a loose, readied stance. Cocks one blond brow and lets his grin sharpen, sinking into his knees a bit more and readying his borrowed spear by bracing it along one forearm. This would certainly be...interesting. If Are didn't simply sit on him and squish him to death.
Are Jormsson
Cobbler / Leatherworker

Age: 23 | Height: 6'4" (193cm) | Race: Accepted | Nationality: Outlander
Level: 3 - Strg: 20 - Dext: 12 - Endr: 20 - Luck: 6
Played by: Wiggen Offline
Change author:
Posts: 301
MP:
#5


Are
The twirling and warming up, pretty as it was, demanded to be called unnecessary frills. Yet Are couldn't help but second guess his choice of partner, especially as he let slip that he seemed to be hiding some power, a shapeshifter perhaps, or maybe the people of Caido had even more latent potency than he had come to know. Getting thrashed was nothing he feared though, fighting against those one's better was after all the only way to grow. Just as a cobbler learned from a master by learning the methods a warrior learned from a fighter by being shown weaknesses. Usually in conjunction with a good amount of pain and just a touch of humiliation to really settle the lessons.

One strong, one fast, what new manner of way could the cobbler come warrior expect to be beaten? He thought as he brought his shield to bear, no less inclined to roll over and just accept defeat. Stubbornness had a way of blinding but was kept at bay by what little sensibility Roana had managed to beat into Are. Shield high, axe poised, hidden and ready to strike. Fight to one's strengths, a shield, for no amount of arms would outreach the spear his opponent showed some aptitude in using.

"Friendly as friendly can be, we'll keep it clean, good hits count and we reset." Are said as he assumed his usual low stance and started to inch closer. "Also, no biting." he added, just to be on the safe side.
Force and magic use OK.
Cera Novik
Metalsmith / Medic

Age: 22 | Height: 5'5 | Race: Attuned | Nationality: Outlander
Level: 1 - Strg: 16 - Dext: 12 - Endr: 12 - Luck: 6
Played by: Brit Offline
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Posts: 79
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#6
-CERA-

If Are is hesitant, it's clearly not enough to fully dissuade him from their little spar. Cera, slipping already into an old mindset, bypasses the other man's state of mind for once where normally he would try to put him at ease. After a lifetime raised by soldiers, training new ones, he has a wealth of knowledge to fall back on. Still, he is heavily disadvantaged in other ways. If he wanted to come out without a plethora of bruises, he would have to be smart about it.

"No biting," he confirms cheerily, but he's already lunging forward before the words have scarcely left his mouth. With both hands along the arm of the spear, Cera jabs it downward at Are's exposed legs beneath the shield. Speed and surprise are his two greatest assets in the moment. He does not aim directly for a limb, careful not to heavily wound the stranger. No need to gain an enemy from a simple spar.

It's a risk, to put his face and torso relatively on display, but hopefully Are is more concerned with not being cut down by the literal ankles to at least jump back or move his shield. Sharp green eyes stay concentrated on Are's face, relying on his peripheral vision. All movement came from center of mass, and Cera didn't intend to miss any cues of impending movement.



Attack: 1/4
Are Jormsson
Cobbler / Leatherworker

Age: 23 | Height: 6'4" (193cm) | Race: Accepted | Nationality: Outlander
Level: 3 - Strg: 20 - Dext: 12 - Endr: 20 - Luck: 6
Played by: Wiggen Offline
Change author:
Posts: 301
MP:
#7


Are
A thrust met by movement, low stance growing ever lower and shield dropping to catch the blunted tip of the training spear, momentarily laying bare the planned strike. A smarter warrior had stepped aside, but Are was more inclined to trust his strength over any fancy footwork. Especially as he found himself already struggling to keep up with such a simple strike. Demoralizing, had it not been for the fact that the blow felt more like a tentative prod than anything more serious, at once something he sought to exploit.

A voice in his head reminded him to stay flexible though. Over commiting was just as much of a mistake as anything else, leaving him exposed to what came after the first probing jab. It could equally had been bait to draw him into storming positions thought ripe for attack only to be shown to be just what the stranger had planned. No, he saved his spastic flailing for when he knew he had a chance to connect, choosing instead to retreat and reset, again poised to strike.

Instead of waiting though, he moved. Doing his damndest to keep the tip of the spear at bay with the good coverage of his shield, if only enough to make way for a swift advance and a rising cut. At last he saw his chance, only a few moments had passed as he struck out with the roundshield, pushing the tip up a tad and swinging his axe at the opening created.
Force and magic use OK.
Cera Novik
Metalsmith / Medic

Age: 22 | Height: 5'5 | Race: Attuned | Nationality: Outlander
Level: 1 - Strg: 16 - Dext: 12 - Endr: 12 - Luck: 6
Played by: Brit Offline
Change author:
Posts: 79
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#8
-CERA-

Cera is grateful for the length of the spear, watching Are shift his center of balance lower to bridge their height difference. He can't magically grow taller, so he forces the giant of a man to his level with the jabbing reach of his spear. Equality.

His opponent chooses to use his superior strength instead of startling away from Cera's attack, the shield catching the blunted tip harder than anticipated. Impact reverberates up his arms, but Cera holds firm, broad shoulders braced. The tip sinks down beneath the force of the block, but he knows he can't overpower the directional force and moves with the momentum. A thud of impact and a cloud of dirt emanates as the tip hits the ground. It nearly distracts him from Are striking behind the shield, instinct jolting him straight back in a swift hop to avoid the reach of the shorter weapon.

Unlike Are, Cera is no mountain, and though he's light on his feet the axe whistles forth and catches his shirt. The fabric rips readily, flimsy as it is, and a shallow scratch sears across his abdomen. It's so close to the gnarled scar that had nearly killed him, and his reaction is more trauma-induced survival instinct than skill.

Cera uses the advantage of both hands still being braced on the spear, still pointed towards the ground. With a quick twist of his palms he spins the head under, blunt end swinging forth as he aims to strike Are's forearm in a downward blow. If he's fast enough the arc of his swing from the axe will keep it in range, otherwise the length of the spear will hopefully smash down upon the edge of the shield and force it to lower. Anything to keep that weapon from his chest, no matter their agreed upon rules.


Attack: 2/4
Are Jormsson
Cobbler / Leatherworker

Age: 23 | Height: 6'4" (193cm) | Race: Accepted | Nationality: Outlander
Level: 3 - Strg: 20 - Dext: 12 - Endr: 20 - Luck: 6
Played by: Wiggen Offline
Change author:
Posts: 301
MP:
#9


Are
The feeling of even a blunted axe-head almost reaching it's intended target was nothing new, but it wasn't exactly like he was used to. Gone was the opponent that met his strikes with immovable strength, gone was the lightning fast Draugr leaving him to menace air as she strolled just out of reach. In their stead was a man he was positive he'd cracked a rib for if he hadn't manage to nearly avoid it. Although, Are got a quick reminder as to what happens to over commiting fighters as the butt of the spear. A good hit rendered just a tap as he managed to barely meet it with his shield, still stung a touch through his boiled bracer as the spear glanced off his arm when he retreated behind the shield.

Closing the distance had proven a fruitful tactic, if only he had the speed to follow his movements up with a flurry of blows he knew he had a winning concept. Fighting to one's strengths wasn't about wishing for more arms though, it was making the best of what one had. So a little plan to even the odds took form, and showed itself with the cobbler stepping back a touch and doing his damndest to stay behind the shield. Making himself a difficult target was the first step and he followed it up with slowly advancing again, making no effort to chase the tip of the spear but to always keep it in sight.
Force and magic use OK.
Cera Novik
Metalsmith / Medic

Age: 22 | Height: 5'5 | Race: Attuned | Nationality: Outlander
Level: 1 - Strg: 16 - Dext: 12 - Endr: 12 - Luck: 6
Played by: Brit Offline
Change author:
Posts: 79
MP:
#10
-CERA-

Connection rings through his wrists, and Cera feels the pulse of his heart thump in tandem with the sting of his chest. A scratch was preferable to a broken rib or a puncture, but it would reduce his flexibility. Time to change tactics.

His opponent shuffles to hide more behind his shield, and Cera's sharp eyes dart across his features analytically. It was definitely a problem, one he had to work around creatively. Even if the larger man had more surface area, the shield was light enough to be wielded with devastating efficiency.

The minimal retreat gives Cera the time he needs to switch gears. He knows his own weaknesses after years of fighting larger, heavy-hitting opponents. The intimidation tactics, the danger of close combat, he has faced it all. The gouged scar upon his neck is testament, because Cera is just reckless enough - just fearless enough - to put himself at a purposeful disadvantage.

As Are moves slowly forward, he doesn't give him time to come up with a new plan. Cera does the opposite of what his build would prefer and lunges forward into close quarters once more, placing himself right in the most dangerous area. He wields the blunt end of the spear like a bat, arcing high towards Are's neck and collarbone.

As soon as the spear is close enough to impact, and knowing the axe is likely to make a return swing swiftly even if one arm blocks the blow, Cera lashes out with his right foot at the tender joint of Are's nearest knee to try and buckle it. Even unbalancing the mountainous man would be worthwhile, if his spear didn't land in the first place.



Attack: 3/4
Are Jormsson
Cobbler / Leatherworker

Age: 23 | Height: 6'4" (193cm) | Race: Accepted | Nationality: Outlander
Level: 3 - Strg: 20 - Dext: 12 - Endr: 20 - Luck: 6
Played by: Wiggen Offline
Change author:
Posts: 301
MP:
#11


Are
Too late he realized the peril he had trundled headlong into. His eyes affixed on the spear he knew he was too slow to catch, but in the periphery he noticed something far more devastating sneaking up on him. A devilish strike he was far more concerned with than a blow that could break a collarbone.

No stranger to taking one on the chin and powering through it just to make a point, Are conceded to what surely would result in a few weeks of regret, letting the spear connect and praying that gambeson and muscles would together keep him somewhat hole. Instead he dropped his shield towards the incoming kick and letting his axe slip into the off had with the shield.

A free hand was worth far more in the predicament he found himself in, and if it Cera wanted to fight close, he was getting it. Finally something Are knew, no stumbling around flailing at shadows in hopes of scoring a hit, no tentative poking and prodding at each others defenses. No, finally he could dive into it for real, literally even.

The very moment he considered the kick sufficiently dealt with he dropped his shield and axe while shoving away the spear as best as he could with his shoulder aching from the blow. His free hand darted forward, sights set on getting a good handful of shirt to yank the man off balance through.
Force and magic use OK.
Cera Novik
Metalsmith / Medic

Age: 22 | Height: 5'5 | Race: Attuned | Nationality: Outlander
Level: 1 - Strg: 16 - Dext: 12 - Endr: 12 - Luck: 6
Played by: Brit Offline
Change author:
Posts: 79
MP:
#12
-CERA-

Though it's what he had wanted, Cera still winces as Are quite literally shoulders the blow. That was going to bruise like hell, but it didn't sound as if he'd broken anything at least. He's swiftly distracted by the drop of the shield, easing back on the power of the kick even though it still stings as his shin powerfully meets the surface. He'd surely get his own bruise to match, but he grits his teeth against the pain and swiftly returns his foot to the earth. Cera didn't have nearly the amount of center mass to avoid being toppled if Are shoved forward.

Except that's...not what he does. Cera is already moving to readjust his spear when Are drops both axe and shield to the dirt. It's such a bold move that he's momentarily taken off guard, and though he stumbles back the hand that snatches up his shirt is unavoidable. An undignified yelp escapes his mouth as he's easily hauled off his feet in one swift yank, as light as a ragdoll in his opponent's grip. There's no fighting it, even if he could probably jerk back hard enough to rip his shirt further, but there's no guarantee his feet will remain on the ground with their height difference.

Instead, he moves with the motion, reaching forward to try and brace his arms around Are's shoulders - good lord this is more intimate than he planned - as his bruise-free leg jerks up to try and knee Are in the side where his arm is already occupied with jerking Cera around like a naughty kitten. Hopefully it would force him to drop Cera, or at least wind him, but Cera couldn't help his wild grin at the stupid fun he was having.



Attack: 4/4
Are Jormsson
Cobbler / Leatherworker

Age: 23 | Height: 6'4" (193cm) | Race: Accepted | Nationality: Outlander
Level: 3 - Strg: 20 - Dext: 12 - Endr: 20 - Luck: 6
Played by: Wiggen Offline
Change author:
Posts: 301
MP:
#13


Are
To the ground, with all the power he could muster he was determined to bring the fight to home turf. Just as he leaned back and prepared to drive them both over his shoulder he found himself over extending just as he'd done before, and with the same reward coming right up from out of his periphery.

A padded gambeson worked fine to dampen weapon blows, light, sharp, and quick they did no more than make some noise and leave him with a nice bruise. What a strike with a little more weight and power behind it did he became acutely aware of though, as a knee hit home, and hit deep. Are felt his jerking toss being thrown off by a sting of pain severe enough to send a burst of stars through his vision.

Momentum was not something the world took lightly though, and all that force put into getting his foe off his feet had to go somewhere. Somewhere seemed to be a good way skywards as he slipped out of Are's grip only to be sent in the vague direction of the clouded Leafchange sun.

Even as his whole world was busy righting itself and stop spinning he scrambled to his feet and was back in stance before he had figured out which way was up. A deep, wheezing breath turned into a coughing fit turned into a hearty laugh as he realized he had already been beaten, twice in fact.

"Two for two, you're one hell of a fighter let me tell you!" he said as he laughed and went over to check up that the tumble hadn't gotten Cera more than a few more bruises. "We need to do this again soon, although maybe not quite as energetic, maybe you can even bring a weapon of your own and hand me my ass on a completely different platter, eh?" Are said with another roaring laugh and a whince of pain as his side protested about the abuse it had received. "I should probably get to the infirmary though, it's been a while and I think they might be missing me."
Force and magic use OK.


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