• PM To Join • A Chance in Hell (Varlum)

[Nir'wei]

23rd of Vhalar, 718.

Sedrik was young, loud, ruthless, and fast. "HUP!" His attacks came in flurries, chaining from one strike to the next in devastating combos that always left Nir'wei sweating and out of breath, if not flat on his backside. His only weakness seemed to be that they often left him out of breath too, panting and wiping sweat from his brow as he circled like a predator, arms outstretched and crouching low. He'd managed to throw a few feeble punches of his own during that window of downtime, but of course none had connected. The Knight was far too nimble for that, and besides, that wasn't the point of the exercise. He wasn't supposed to win. He was supposed to survive.

The knight burst forward again, left jab, right hook, left uppercut, right jab, left swing. He was a boxer; all his punches were straight and narrow, his footwork focused only on bringing his fists into range. Nir'wei kept his forearms high as he'd been told, doing his best to absorb the blows as they landed, sliding back one step after another to avoid the occasional jab that made it around or through that defensive barrier... though most of them still landed regardless. He could feel blood leaking from the cut above one brow, a throbbing in his jaw from where a meaty left hook had landed, several other small aches and pains around his face and stomach from where he'd been too slow, too distracted. Sweat and dirt stained the back of his shirt in equal measures from where he'd been knocked backwards by a particularly hard punch; he'd lost many times already, and it felt like he was about to do it again.

He was right. All those attacks for the head, each one brimming with power, had only been distractions. With his forearms raised high, Sedrik hopped forward a step, pulled his right elbow back and buried his fist into Nir'weis solar plexus, directly under his ribcage. He saw stars. Air voided his lungs and his grunt of pain fizzled out into a wheeze. Unthinkingly, he lowered both arms to clutch his middle, lost in the pain... but Sedrik never attacked once and left it at that. The next punch landed square on Nir'weis cheek, snapping his head to the side with its force. Leading him straight into the punch after that, originally aimed for his opposite cheek. Instead it slammed home right between his eyes.

Nir'wei was on the floor again. When had he gotten there? His nose throbbed abysmally, as if someone had shoved a hot poker inside one nostril and fed it all the way through. He couldn't feel blood, though. Taste it, yes, but not feel it. Was he paralysed? No, just stunned. Stunned, confused, and in a lot of pain. Karem above, what pain.

"You okay?" someone asked from up above, answered with a growl that wasn't his own. "Woah, woah woah, back up." Something big, soft and furry pressed up against his cheek, nudging him. Then again. After a few moments he pressed his face against the paw and reached out blindly, grabbing onto a foreleg and using it to hoist himself up into a semi-sitting position, still leaning against it. More growling from above. Gods, his head hurt like he'd been struck round the temple with a warhammer.

Even without opening his eyes, he knew that it was Vabina standing over him at that moment. Like a mother guarding her cub. Gods, what an awful analogy. "You need to keep that beast under control, you hear?" a different voice said, more gruffly than Sedrik.

"She's under control," he replied calmly, trying not to cough. "Just... just give me a tick here." It'd taken a lot of convincing to allow Vabina, Greyhide, Cold and Myrth onto the grounds, but he'd insisted they'd only be his audience and wouldn't get involved in the training. To his credit, they hadn't. But he agreed with Vabina now. "I've had enough. I can't. Ahhh, gods. Thank you for the opportunity, it was a, mmf... a great honour." He heard the knight and supervisor leaving. "Water." Nir'wei stretched out a hand and he felt Greyhide drag his canvas bag over and place its straps in his hand. Quickly tearing into it and pulling out his waterskin, he drank heavily from the pouch and offered the rest to the animals, Vabina first. "Well... that hurt."

[Varlum]

Bellowing roars came from Varlum, a small area in the courtyard clear enough that he could train. Axe struck, swing after swing as it plummeted deep in to the straw filled dummies, makeshift soldiers for him to drain the life of. WIth a loud thud and a low growl the final blow truck, cleaving the dummy through the head, 'killing' him.

Rapid pants left the Ithecal as he let himself kneel, head down and catching his breath with eyes closed, axe dropping to the ground. Every day he could, the Ithecal trained. Part of him wanted to improve as a soldier, other parts as a friend to those he swore to protect. But more than anything, he wanted to improve to show he could. Being his size was an advantage, but it wasn't enough. It was never enough. For as long as Varlum lived he would keep going, striving to make himself stronger and better. That was what he knew he was made to do, after all. All his life he'd wanted to fight. Now he finally had the chance, and he'd done it. Helped save Rharne from the Flameborn that had attacked in the expedition to the Stormwastes, and helped protect innocents.

Bringing himself to a stand, the towering Ithecal glanced over to see a small crowd dispersing for a moment. He'd looked to them earlier, a small man being beaten down but not fighting back. It was clearly training or a man of his size would have interjected. People had a tendency of backing down when he told them to - or if he made them. Either worked. Yet it was clear he was done, the crowd walking away as he called for water. Yet to the Ithecal's surprise, a wolf did as he asked and grabbed the water. But what really impressed him was the Zephyrus.

When they'd taken down the Flameborn he'd seen a Zephyrus in action, and that was young - certainly looked it compared to the hulk in front of the man. But the one he'd seen was a monster, a burst of energy leaving it and slamming down the Flameborn even before they had their boon against it. While it had taken Varlum all his strength to knock it down the Zephyrus he'd seen did it without hesitation, without a struggle. It was a beast that could do a lot of damage.

Yet one was sat in the courtyard.

Curiously, Varlum made his way over to the man, a few Knights giving him a small nod as he went past. But his eyes stayed focused on Nir, though his face had no intent to harm written across it, nor did he want to hurt the man. "You're a brave man" he spoke with a small hiss to his voice, not that he could help it. "Whether I mean owning a big beauty like that, or letting yourself get beaten, is up to you. But you won't learn as much as you think from just taking punches, or at least standing there and taking them. There are better ways to avoid pain."

Varlum, admittedly, knew little about stopping the pain. But he knew that taking a beating had never taught him much. Cautiously, not wanting to startle the animals, Varlum offered a hand to Nir. Both were comrades now, allies. One day, perhaps, Nir would be offering him a hand. In that day, Varlum wanted to be remembered as a friend and ally. Not another bystander while a man bled and was in pain. If Nir took it he'd help the man stand, if not he'd retract his hand.

"Varlum, by the way" he nodded to Nir, a small grin on his face.

[Nir'wei]

The beating had left a good deal of blurriness in his vision and ringing in his ears that made it difficult to focus, but he could still feel heavy footsteps approaching. For a moment, he thought it was his mentor, come to berate him in person. It certainly didn't sound like Xithyria, though. Too encouraging, and somehow even deeper. Pouring the last dribbles of water into Greyhide's open muzzle, he finally screwed the cap back on and peeked out from under Vabina. His eyes could only reach as high as their chest, from where he was sitting. It felt like staring up at a mountain, with the peak obscured by clouds. "Nir'wei," he replied as he started to climb unsteadily to his feet, taking the offered hand and leaning on it a hell of a lot more than he'd wanted to... but thankfully it looked like Varlum could handle it. Karem above, of course he could - standing on his feet, he still had to crane his head back until his neck ached to get a real look at his face. "Thanks." To be entirely honest, he might not have stood up again without Vabina dragging him to his feet by the scruff of his shirt, and he'd taken enough public embarrassment for one day.

"If I learn anything at all from this, it'll be more than I thought I would," he hits back. "However, the best way for me to avoid pain, is to not disobey my mentor and stray from his training regime." Xithyria had vanished in the morning with some other business to attend to, but he'd left him 'in capable hands' to carry out 'rigorous endurance tests'. Honestly, at first, he'd thought they might be standard running around the arena several times, doing push-ups and pull-ups and all the other things he'd seen the other knights-in-training doing most days. Instead, it'd been beating after beating. His last fight had not been the only one. They'd not all been as brutal, though. "And I wasn't trying to stand there and take them, really... I mean, that's what I was told to do, but... I don't know. I wanted to move out of the way, I just wasn't fast enough. Every punch came so fast, all I could do was try and cover my face." Even that he hadn't managed to do, in the end.

Greyhide, shaggy with the beginning of a winter coat and water still dripping from his muzzle, stalked around behind them both and came to sit at Varlum's side, directly opposite Vabina. "Oh right, erm. Greyhide's over here," he said, leaning down briefly to brush a hand between the wolf's ears, "and on the other side is the big beauty, Vabina." The Zephyrus had a certain wariness about her, buried deep under the nonchalant exterior. Greyhide, meanwhile, was a clear pool. "Greyhide likes you." Then he gestured to the edge of the arena, where two more wolves lay. One pale, one rich with brown... both smaller, but watching intently. Very intently, in Cold's case. "Out there is Cold and Myrth, left and right respectively. I promise they're all tame, though Cold is a little more feral than the others and tends to growl and snarl at every little thing."

[Varlum]

Varlum helped Nir to his feet, looking to the man with a warmer look than the others here. It didn't take him turning around to realise he was probably getting a few looks, helping a newer Knight out after he'd been training. Some of the men looking might have been the ones that had beaten him too, but the Ithecal didn't care. Let them try and beat him, see what happened. Last man that hit him and expected him to stand there and take it had been more than surprised when a fist had landed against his nose. For an Ithecal, punches weren't too hard unless it was another Ithecal.

Unfortunately, the man Varlum had punched was a human. Not an Ithecal.

"Good to meet you" he said with a nod, before glancing aside to see the men and women that were watching the display. Just meeting his eyes was enough for a majority of them to look away, yet a few stared on. Very few soldiers were forgiving when it came to training, especially the ones that felt bigger than all the others. But Varlum wasn't them, nor did he ever plan on being them. Making your soldiers strong didn't involve battering them until they spited everything about you. It involved mutual respect. Nobody would save your life if you made theirs miserable, Varlum thought. It was what he had experienced at least. He sure as fuck wouldn't save a man that thought they could beat him to feel big.

"Missing training shouldn't equate to a beating" the Ithecal said with a small glare to one man that wouldn't break gaze with him, finally making him look away. His eyes fell back to Nir. "Can I give you some advice? Do what you want with it" he said through a low tone, giving Nir a small smile and raising one hand. "Next time someone beats you, whether you are meant to stand there and take it or not, you smack them so hard in their throat they see Vri for a trill. Don't let anyone beat you, hurt you, push you around. If it ends up with them and their friends ganging up on you, I'll even out the numbers myself."

Varlum gave a small glance to each animal as Nir listed them off. "Quite an entourage. I hope you won't be disappointed when I say it's just me" he smirked playfully, eyes mostly glancing over Vabina. Zephyrus fascinated and terrified him. Watching one in action had shown just how dangerous they could be, especially when it had struck down a Flameborn. Granted, Varlum had trapped it's feet in earth first. But the point stood that the blast it had fired was dangerous. It didn't take a genius to figure that much out. "All of them fight too, or are they more for hunting?"

[Nir'wei]

Rubbing the back of his own neck and trying not to wince, he swallowed down a slight sigh as Cold and Myrth rose from their places and padded towards them. "Nice to meet you too. More than you know." He might not have been looking for it, but it wasn't difficult to notice how eyes suddenly turned the other way now that he had someone else on his side. Someone bigger than all of them. Much, much bigger. It was different for Vabina - she was considered 'his responsibility', and should she do anything, he was still the one at fault. It was very clear that Varlum had no such problems.

"Huh? Oh, I'd never miss training." That sounded quite terrible when spoken out-loud, considering what his training had just consisted of. "I'm just... I'm really not very good at it." His small stature, utter inexperience and lack of physical strength were a toxic combination. It brought a slight, almost-concealed sigh as he was given some very good, but fruitless advice. "There's nothing that would give me greater pleasure, don't get me wrong, but... trust me, the smacks I've landed have hurt me more than them." If he could smack them that hard then he wouldn't be in the mire he wallowed in now. "And I've relied on my friends for far too long to help me out of sticky situations." Puffing out his chest as far as he could without wheezing from the way it stretched his bruises and sore ribs, he put on his bravest smile, though there was still a bit of twitching and shaking at the corners. "That's why I became a Knight. Or I wanna be. Y'know, so I can help them, like they always help me." It sounded so noble whenever he spoke of it. Like something a true Knight would say, he hoped. And yet, with every explanation it became a little more far-fetched and fantasy.

Vabina snorted softly and leaned just a little closer to Nir'wei, subtly pushing her head between Nir'wei and Varlum. He took it as a request for some rubbing down her mane, and she made all the noises of pleasure, deep bass rumblings in her chest, but her eyes showed no such amusement as they stared down Varlum. Still alert. Very much so. "Hah! I'm not. You don't need one though." He left the unspoken acceptance that he did in the air instead of one the lips. "They're... a bit of everything, in all honesty. And this isn't all of them. We ride together, hunt together, fight together, comfort and support one-another, pretty much everything." At that moment, Cold pressed up behind Nir'weis legs, standing as still as a furry statue. Oddly, though, nothing really needed to be said or done - there was a simple closeness that they shared, an acknowledgement. Myrth jumped up against Varlum's leg with both forepaws and licked the Ithecal's fingers. "These guys are the reason I'm not worried about being outnumbered." A very slight grin pressed on his face. "Any of them try anything outside of this arena and, well. We'll be eating well tonight." Just wait until he got his bow out. See how fast Sedrik's fists were against arrows.

His mouth pursed slightly. "But I do need to become stronger. Xithyria says... the more you get beaten down, the better you get at avoiding it." He didn't know any better, so he could only follow orders as they came. But even he had a feeling of wrongness in it all. The other Initiates never got beaten as badly as him. He'd never seen the squires of the Iron Hand treated like this. Or the Elements. Why here, then? "I need to be better with my fists. And a sword. Something like a spear, to use from riding. And a shield too. And this bow, and... and there's just too much, and I'm not good at any of it, the sword just slips through my fingers after the first strike!" He closed his eyes and took a deep breath, sighing it back out again. Below, Greyhide gave a thin whine; a scratching behind one ear muted it somewhat, but he could still feel the wolf's worried eyes on him. "I'll never become a Knight."

[Varlum]

When Nir spoke, Varlum paused for a trill. It had to be said that the Ithecal had grown used to his size. Growing up he had always been the biggest, usually the strongest too. But not everyone had that luxury. Some people didn't grow up in the same way he had, a fact that he often forgot. Yet his advice still stood. If someone beat him day in and out Varlum would make them fear laying a finger on him again. But that was easier said than done when you could bite off the finger with the kind of ease a Thiussum could. That much wasn't true for everyone.

When Nir explained his reasoning for being a Knight, as well as his explanation for not hitting back, Varlum gave a small nod. "I understand. Though you might consider finding a new mentor. Anyone that brings this on to a student knows nothing of a real war. If your men won't have your back because you beat them day in and out, who will?" he said with a small, disapproving growl at the idea of it. Frustration was clear on his face, not that Nir would know the root of it. Not yet at least. But as the man spoke on it seemed that Varlum and the young Knight had something in common, more than one might think on the surface. Wanting to help out the people that had helped him was part of what drew Varlum to the same path.

Feeling Myrth jump up against him made the Ithecal smile, as did the explanation Nir'wei gave as to why the animals mattered so much to him. It sounded like a dream come true in many ways. An entourage of people that cared for you was never something the Ithecal had found himself with, preferring to keep isolated while in Ivorian and near to the same here. Friendship wasn't something many wanted to offer an Ithecal with his scars, be it from fear or just a general feeling of being out of place. At the end of the day, he was a soldier. Whether there was a person underneath that soldier or not didn't matter in their eyes. So long as he kept up his job they were comfortable staying as far away as they had to be.

Listening intently to Nir, Varlum's hands moved slowly to brush the side of Myrth's cheek, stroking gently along the back of his neck. It pained the Ithecal to hear a man speak about himself in that way. Taking a beating was only a part of the problem, but what that beating and training did to a man was more likely to lead him to a path of failure. Once Nir'wei had finished talking, Varlum straightened himself up and gave a small hiss through his mouth to get the mans attention. "When I started out in the military I was mocked. I had few scars, if any. I couldn't fight all that well for a man of my size. But most prominently, I used an axe. Very few people did, especially that big. Wasn't most effective, definitely wasn't uniform."

As Varlum remembered the story he gripped his shirt, lowering it to show a deep cut across his collarbone. "My teacher was harsh, using real weapons to train, putting me up against men with sharper and quicker blades in fights. One man cut me this deep, smaller little Ithecal. So every single one of them told me to go back to the forge. Day in and out, told me to give up, that I wasn't cut out for it" he snarled and kept his eyes fixed on Nir's, the scar across his features clear as ever. "The only thing their beatings did for me was give me a list, so when I was ready I knew who to go for first. I learned newer tricks, practised my axe, put my size to good use. Before I could really show them I was taken from home and brought here. Now there is nobody in this room that would lay a hand on me to prove a point."

Suddenly, Varlum's hand reached out as an offer to Nir'wei. Should he take it, Varlum would squeeze it gently and hold it in front of the two. If not, he would carry on. "You will become a Knight, until the day you decide you don't want to anymore. Because if you desire it, I will teach you. I won't beat you, I won't harm you to prove a point. I'll train you. Or you can stay with the teacher now and do as I did. But whichever you pick, Nir'wei, you will become a Knight - and not a single man in this courtyard will disagree with you when you are."

[Nir'wei]

It pained him how true Varlum's words were, and yet he knew he couldn't follow them. "My men will always have my back, all day, every day. It's just that they won't be men." He'd be foolish to believe Xithyria would come to his aid in a time of crisis, it was true, but that didn't make him any less skilled a fighter, or knowledgeable a military commander. Regardless of personal opinions, the man was valuable. It wouldn't surprise him in the least to know that Xithyria had been playing that card his entire career to rise through the ranks even as his superiors clenched their jaws behind fixed smiles. "Don't worry, he's not my mentor. He's a teacher. He'll show me how to become a great fighter. But I know he won't teach me any more than that." Like it or not, he'd grit his teeth and brave the beatings. At the end of it all, he'd have what he came for, and the moment he did, he'd never spare the knight another backwards glance. Until then, he'd brave it.

Cold growled quietly at Varlum's acid tone, but a gentle nudge eased him back a little, the tense readiness under his fur relaxing a little with a gentle touch of fingers down the length of his spine. "You might never forgive them for what they did to do it, but at the end of the day, they made you stronger and better. It's nothing that anyone should enjoy, and it's certainly nothing that anyone should aspire to have... it's just another day to get through." Hearing his own voice saying it put a new spin on those thoughts though. Gods, how morose he sounded. Did he really have to stand there and take it, was it the only option? It pained him that he even hesitated at the offered hand, weighing up the misery he was already in and the freedom that the new Ithecal offered. Somehow it felt like chickening out. Taking the easy option. Betraying someone, somewhere, that he couldn't quite grasp, but who's disappointment still weighed hard on his head.

He took the hand and squeezed hard back, though the effort was surely lost under the ridges of hard muscle and sinew clenching down on his palm until his fingers turned white. "I will become a knight. I will become strong, and overcome the challenges before me." He could feel a slow growl rising from all three wolves, even Myrth; Vabina's deep rumbling was enough to make his teeth rattle, even from a distance. "I'd love to train with you, but I'll stay under him too. I'm tough, I'll handle it. And at the end of it all, he won't change who I am." Just knowing that he had someone else watching his back and supporting him was enough of a confidence boost to bring the corners of his lips a little higher. "I appreciate the offer though, heh, I really do. Barely five ticks in your company and there's no doubt in my mind you're five times the knight that he is." He could say that with total honesty, too. "I don't think I'll ever grow as tall as you, but I can damn well hope that I'll be as noble when I pass initiation."

Eventually, he broke the tight grip and Sedrik yelled sharply for him. Apparently his break was over... and like it or not, it was time to return to his harsh training. At least he'd have a few more words of encouragement to tell himself through it all, though. Perhaps even a friend to celebrate with when it was all over.

[Doran]

Nir'wei:

Knowledge: -
Loot: -
Wealth: -
Injuries: -
Renown: -
Magic XP: -
Skill Review: Appropriate to level.
Points: 15

Varlum:

Knowledge:
Leadership x2
Intimidation x4

Loot: -
Wealth: -
Injuries: -
Renown: -
Magic XP: -
Skill Review: -
Points: 15

- - -

Comments: This was a well-written combat thread. The fight in Nir’wei’s first post was quite exciting to read, and the subsequent interaction between Nir’wei and Varlum was interesting and enjoyable. I like Varlum’s advice (“Don’t let anyone beat you, hurt you, push you around.”). That’s good advice in my opinion. I also like how much Nir’wei’s entourage played a part in this thread and how he talked about them.

Enjoy your rewards!

P.S.: Nir’wei, I would have added “Endurance” to the list of skills used as you described your PC being out of breath, for example. He is also in pain. The same goes for you, Varlum. “Endurance” should likely have been on the list as Varlum seemed to be exhausted. Maybe Discipline as well.