Reassessment of Skill

Log Info

• Title: Reassessment of Skill
• Emitter: Aryia
• Characters: Aryia, Thruid
• Place: The Colosseum
• Time: Oct 6th, 2021
• Summary: Aryia is training in the Colosseum, having learned some restraint that was needed so she could participate in upcoming events. Thurid, having come back from a mission trip to Dran, goes back to her clerical duties and finds Aryia within the walls. They greet each other happily. Thurid challenges her for another round, and Aryia takes her up on that. The two duke it out, fist to hammer. Thurid's large frame being tossed to the ground a handful of times as a hail of fists wear down the mountain. Thurid retaliates with heavy hitting strikes of her own, most absorbed by the elf's massive pain tolerance, but a good blow sends her skyward. A deft recovery results in a resplendent strike, ending the duel. Smiles all around, the two head off to the bathhouse to work out the welts and bruises they've acquired.

The Colosseum. Midday.

Fair weather day, broken clouds cast shadows across the sands. It's a good day for the dueling gods, as competition is back in full swing. Such a day, however, is for training, and the open pit is public to any that wished to hone their skills.

One particular participant is that of a scarred mul'neissa woman. Her duking it out with a half-oruch woman. Aryia is in a tank top, a set of wide rimmed silver shades firmly resting on her nose, and she's blitzing faster than she's ever gone before. The elf takes a few slugs to the nogging, but shrugs it off as her opponent is grabbed by the arm, tossed over a shoulder, and a boot rises to crush their face in.

Unlike many times before. It stays there, and she points threateningly at them. The half-oruch woman laughs and rolls her eyes, "Aight, aight, I yield, ya fiesty little fucker."

Aryia smiles, helps them up, and pats them on the back as the head off to recouperate.

The elf herself finds a bench and towels off sweat, drinking heavily from a waterskin.

Thurid makes her way into the Coloseum- as she often is, she's been tasked with making sure the good folks duking it out ont he sands don't get out of hand. And, if they do, that they get dislocated limbs and broken noses set and sorted. As such, she enters from the pit, where the fighters wait and prepareprior to their bouts. She knuckles her back, stretching it out, as she takes in the sunlight- she'd been in there for a little while, and is stretching her legs.

It's while doing so, she catches the tail end of Aryia's fight- and sees her stop short of crushing the oruch's nose. She smiles to herself, and then pads her way over towards the resting mul. "You've gotten quicker." she observes as she draws near, lifting her hand in greeting when she has Aryia's attention.

Aryia had her eyes closed behind her shades, but evidence of the familiar voice being picked up was a 'twitch twitch' of silver clad, long ears. She sits upright, back ramrod straight, before a broad grin plasters her face. "Th-r-d!" she hisses quietly, hopping up to her feet and padding over with arms wide open.

Thurid raises her brows at the welcoming gesture from Aryia, but her moment of surprise is dismisses as a broad, gap-toothed grin cracks her face and she strides in to pull the much shorter woman into a hug. It's a firm one, but that's probably not unexpected from the Jotun. After the brief embrace she takes a half step back and claps Aryia on the shoulder. "It's good to see you." she says, taking a moment to look Aryia up and down. "And I can tell at a glance you've been doing well. Is that a bit more muscle I see?" she wonders.

Aryia gives just as brief of a firm hug, the mute woman's shoulder easily engulfed by the large half-giant. Regardless of that, she keeps grinning, bobbing her head in agreement before pulling up a scarred arm and flexing to show off the lean yet taut self-made weapon. The same hand makes motions, ensuring Thurid was wearing their helmet before continuing. "It's good to see you too! I've been working at it very hard. They even let me back in here!" she exudes. <Handspeech>

Thurid laughs at that, "That's good to hear! You've not smashed any more faces in, since, I hope?" she wonders of Aryia, giving the shoulder a firm squeeze before letting go and folding her arms across her chest. She offers an approving nod at the flex, "Truth be told, I almost didn't recognize you." she adds. "Seemed you'd grown a few inches taller, at first. But I see it now- you're standing straight and proud." she says. "I'm glad." she adds after a moment. "I take it to mean you've put the lie to your doubts?" she wonders.

"None that don't deserve it!" a hand snaps back playfully, though a smirk plays across' Aryia's lips. The smile breaks into an embarrased one as she rubs the back of her neck, glancing away. "Yes... things are... things are clicking better for me. I still have my doubts, of course. It's going to take more than a few months to bleed that away. Thank you, though, for noticing."

Her eyes narrow behind the shakes, a finger reaching up to poke the Jotun in the muscled arm. "And where have you been? Missed my entrance exam into the weekly tournaments, you did!" <Handspeech>

It's Thurid's turn to look sheepish, and she rubs the back of her neck at the poke, "Ah, I was sent on a Mission with the temple. Proselytising in Dran." she explains to Aryia after a moment, giving a helpless shrug. "I've already caught it in the neck from a few people on my return. I hadn't realized I'd be so missed." she says then, her grin cracking again.

"Weekly tournaments, though?" she wonders after a moment, glancing aorund. "You really have come a long way. Seems to me it wasn't too long ago you felt sick to your stomach just looking at this place." she says then. "I'd be curious to see how much stronger you've gotten." she adds.

Aryia makes an understanding expression, her light ribbing melting away just as quickly as it came. "Of course you would be missed, being so nice and all to everyone," the pugilist gestures, ending with her arms crossed and a grin on her face. Weight on her back foot.

There a little 'ah...' that spills from her lips. There's a sheepishly little nod, her glancing back to a faint dent in the stone wall of the arena. "I still feel sick, sometimes. But I had a lot of people help me get over it. You included."

The grin returns to her features, arms falling loosely to her sides as she bounces a bit on the balls of her feet. "Oh do you now? I've killed demons, I'll have you know," the shadow elf mentions. <Handspeech>

"Well, it's good to know. Living in the minds of others- one can ask for no greater glory." Thurid says, though there's a tinge of concern in her eyes at Aryia's second statement. "I am sorry I could not be here to help you further. I'm glad you have found others you can rely on." she tells her.

As Aryia's grin returns, Thurid cracks one of her own, raising her eyebrows. "Is that so?" she wonders. "I'd hear more about that..." taking a step back. "Last time we sparred, I fought you hand to hand- and you bested me. Do you think you're prepared to face my hammer?" she wonders, with a bit of a smirk. "A wooden one, of course."

Aryia waves off the concern. "It's okay. People come and go." Simple words that had a world's worth of weight behind those hands. She doesn't dwell on it.

The idea of a duel, especially against one Aryia looked up to (both physically and mentor wise), brings a certain mix of cockiness and giddiness to her frame. She steps back as well, rolling a shoulder. "Hit me with all you got. I'm no bitch. Let's do this." <Handspeech>

A small crowd of contenders start to gather and murmur.

Thurid laughs then, and nods her head. "Very well, then!" she agrees, and gestures over towards one of the folks at the pit- near the weapon rack. "A training maul!" she calls out. He- a burly oruch fellow- grabs the requested weapon and tosses it over. A large, two handed wooden maul- it's edge compressed ad frayed from years of pounding sand and shields and at times gladiators. Thurid catches it in an outstretched hand and allows the weight of it to bring it to rest on her shoulder. Her second hand comes up to grip the haft, and her feet spread apart pushing ruts in the sand, her stance lowering.

GAME: Aryia rolls cmb+2: (5)+12+2: 19
GAME: Aryia refreshes special ability pools.
GAME: Aryia spends ONE point of KI POOL.
GAME: Aryia rolls cmb+2: (3)+12+2: 17
GAME: Aryia rolls weapon0-5: (1)+12+-5: 8 (EPIC FAIL)
GAME: Aryia rolls weapon0: (13)+12: 25
GAME: Aryia rolls damage0: aliased to 1d8+2: (7)+2: 9

Aryia breathes in deep as the arena stills to watch. Her head lowers, and her she twists her stance. Without warning, she clears the gap between them with a standing forward flip and arcs down a heel towards Thurid's leg. Looking to topple rather than to injure. It fails, her sliding off to the side and getting down in the sand to sweep legs, but yet against she crashes against the Mountain of Angorn. Huffing slightly, she tries to pelt two brisk hits in, one going awry from the sun catching her eyes between the shades, but the other lands true.

GAME: Thurid rolls melee: (4)+10: 14
GAME: Thurid rolls melee-5: (3)+10+-5: 8

Thurid's stance is firm, and her legs are like tree trunks- so it perhaps comes as no surprise that the sensation of trying to sweep her is much like trying to sweep an oak tree. She does not budge. She lowers her stance further, arms coming in to try and deflect the blows, but Aryia is able to sneak one of them in through the Jotun's guard, a crushing blow to the ribs that drives her onto the back foot. She takes a half sep backwards, and her stance opens up.

She hefts the maul overhead, and brings it crashing down- wide of the mark, it hits the sand and sends it scattering. But she uses the momentum of her strike to step back in, twisting her heel against the sand and adjusting her grip, she brings the maul back up attempting to catch Aryia on the back swing but missing again.

GAME: Aryia rolls cmb+2: (11)+12+2: 25
GAME: Aryia uses an AoO! 5 remaining.
GAME: Aryia rolls weapon0: (9)+12: 21
GAME: Aryia rolls weapon0: (3)+12: 15
GAME: Aryia rolls weapon0-5: (7)+12+-5: 14
GAME: Aryia spends ONE point of KI POOL.
GAME: Aryia rolls weapon0: (2)+12: 14
GAME: Aryia rolls damage0: aliased to 1d8+2: (2)+2: 4

Aryia grins a bit as some of the mountain is chipped away. Slow. Steady. Keep going. Erode the stone. She twists to the side as sand erupts beside her from the maul, then dives over back swing.

A hand snaps up grab Thurid's wrist, adding to the momentum and twisting the Angorite down into the sand. A fist crashes into the held arm. Then tries to do so repeatedly with less success. Wear them out. Chip away.

GAME: Aryia uses an AoO! 4 remaining.
GAME: Aryia rolls weapon0: (13)+12: 25
GAME: Aryia rolls damage0: aliased to 1d8+2: (5)+2: 7
GAME: Thurid rolls melee+1: (5)+10+1: 16

Thurid is dragged to the ground- unbalanced after her mighty swing, her own weight is turned against her. She is driven down, first to a knee- and by the pummeling blows, her hand leaves her hammer to brace against the sand. She grunts, "Not bad, not bad at all." she says, bracing her foot and shoving herself back up to her feet, throwing the Mul off her as she rises to her full height again. She swings the hammer, horizontally this time attempting to catvch Aryia across the middle and send her flying with it- but she's too slow for the wily Mul

GAME: Aryia spends ONE point of KI POOL. (Barkskin)

Aryia lands a blow as Thurid gets up, but its too early and doesn't have power behind it. She grins at the praise, but quietly gasps and leans far, far back, her arms flailing as the hammer almost kisses her nose.

The elf uses her momentum to plant a hand behind her and flip backwards to give some space. She closes her eyes a moment, breathing deep. A tinge of fear crosses her face from a memory, then anger, then resolve. Eyes open, and she brings her fists up. Even more focused as she bounces on the balls of her feet.

She cracks her neck.

GAME: Thurid rolls melee+1: (3)+10+1: 14
GAME: Thurid rolls melee+1: (11)+10+1: 22

Thurid looses one hand from her hammer grip to sweep the hair from her brow. "What are you waiting for?" she taunts good naturedly as Aryia takes a step back and focuses. "Well if you won't press your advantage, I'll hapily take up the slack!" she calls out and steps in herself- the maul is brought in a whirling motion, once, and twice, goinging the sand, and then glancing harmlessly off Aryia's toughened skin. "Oho, that's how it is?" she wonders.

GAME: Aryia rolls cmb+2: (5)+12+2: 19
GAME: Aryia rolls weapon0: (8)+12: 20
GAME: Aryia rolls weapon0-5: (9)+12+-5: 16

The wooden maul hits Aryia's side true. Normally there'd be a gasp of surprise, or a stumble. But the mute woman just takes it like she felt no pain at all. Stance too firm to break it.

She dashes forward, ducking and weaving to try and get Thurid twisted up. But the Angorite must have been catching on, as her peppered blows found no purchase.

GAME: Thurid casts Bull's Strength. Caster Level: 9 DC: 16

Thurid uses the haft of her hammer to ward against the blows, deflecting them or misdirecting them as she takes a couple of paces backwards to give herself some breathing room from the assault. "You ought to know, I have some tricks of my own!" she calls out, and lifts her hammer up high above her head. There's a crack of thunder from the cloudless sky, and then the Jotun's impressive bulk swells further, skin straining against expanding muscles. She lowers her stance, and grips the haft of her hammer in white knuckles hands. "If you become unbreakable, I'll just have to become stronger." she muses with a lopsided grin.

GAME: Aryia rolls cmb+2: (16)+12+2: 30
GAME: Aryia uses an AoO! 5 remaining.
GAME: Aryia rolls weapon0: (8)+12: 20
GAME: Aryia rolls weapon0: (13)+12: 25
GAME: Aryia rolls weapon0-5: (5)+12+-5: 12
GAME: Aryia spends ONE point of KI POOL.
GAME: Aryia rolls weapon0: (10)+12: 22
GAME: Aryia rolls damage0+damage0+damage0: aliased to 1d8+2+1d8+2+1d8+2: (1)+2+(2)+2+(6)+2: 15

Aryia's fists dip a touch at the display of power. Lips parting some in awe. But a glint crosses her eyes and she ducks in low. Launching herself at the swelled Thurid. Both legs curl in and explode outwards at the half-giant's hip, twisting them off balance before punching down at the back of a knee to put them into the ground. A torrent of rain pummels into arms and legs, avoiding vitals but wearing down the mountain as quick as she could.

GAME: Aryia uses an AoO! 4 remaining.
GAME: Aryia rolls weapon0: (15)+12: 27
GAME: Aryia rolls damage0: aliased to 1d8+2: (1)+2: 3
GAME: Thurid rolls melee+1+2: (8)+10+1+2: 21

Thurid staggers as Aryia throws all off her weight and strength into driving her off balance- it's touch and go for a moment, but the mountain falls from the determined maneuver, first to a knee, and then down entirely onto her side. Her arm comes up, defending her head and upper body from the deluge of strikes- after a few moments, she lets out a bellow and throws Aryia off her once more, rising to her feet with help from the hammer- its head planted firmly in the ground. Her hand sweeps the sand and matted hair from her face once more, and she hefts the hammer in both for another swing- bringing it like a golf club to strike at Aryia's midsection, and find it unyielding still. "You have come along in leaps and bounds!" Thurid says, eyes bright and smiling, "I am proud of you!" she says, though she prepares to follow up on her attack.

GAME: Aryia spends ONE point of KI POOL.
GAME: Aryia rolls weapon0: (5)+12: 17
GAME: Aryia rolls weapon0: (17)+12: 29
GAME: Aryia rolls weapon0-5: (7)+12+-5: 14
GAME: Aryia rolls weapon0: (15)+12: 27
GAME: Aryia rolls damage0+damage0: aliased to 1d8+2+1d8+2: (8)+2+(3)+2: 15

Aryia manages to get a knee in as she's thrown off like a scrambling cat. She lands on her feet as she slide back in the sand, a beaming grin on her sweating face. But the sand obscures the maul coming from below, and she was too late to get out of the way. It lands. Hard. Something certainly goes pop. But instead of going flying, she stands firm with the maul in her gut.

She pivots off the head of the weapon and presses harder at the praise. The once 'fraid woman now wanting to show the full breadth of how far she's come. And she doesn't hold back as a deluge of fists pummel across Thruid's side.

"Thank you!" she gestures with one hand as she gets some space. <Handspeech>

GAME: Thurid rolls melee+1+2: (17)+10+1+2: 30
GAME: Thurid rolls melee+1+2-5: (10)+10+1+2+-5: 18
GAME: Thurid rolls 2d6+str+2+3: (4)+str+2+3: 9 (14)

Thurid foregoes defense as the blows continue to rain down on her, and she lifts the maul up once more. She hip checks Aryia back, just enough to let her get a swing in- and she follows thecheck up with another golf swing- aiming for her center mass again, attempting to break through the smaller woman's so far unassailable defenses. The blow is slow, but lands hard, with the weight of the weapon and the Jotun's muscles behind it.Sh tries to follow with another strike- but Aryia's peppering of punches has worn her down, and her grip falters, causing the hammer's head to scrape along the dirt and loose its momentum

GAME: Aryia spends ONE point of KI POOL.
GAME: Aryia rolls weapon0: (12)+12: 24
GAME: Aryia rolls weapon0: (1)+12: 13 (EPIC FAIL)
GAME: Aryia rolls weapon0-5: (15)+12+-5: 22
GAME: Aryia rolls weapon0: (8)+12: 20
GAME: Aryia rolls damage0: aliased to 1d8+2: (6)+2: 8

The slow blow seemed to do the trick, the resilient defense broken as she gasps in surprise pain. She's flung slightly in the air, windmilling her arms to right herself before landing on the ground. Aryia does a brisk step to the side at the lethargic second swing, the pugilist drilling into the underside of the swinging arm. Nothing seems to land cleanly aside from the first.

She smiling brightly. Eyes alight despite the midday sun.

GAME: Thurid rolls melee+2+1: (10)+10+2+1: 23
GAME: Thurid rolls melee+2+1-5: (13)+10+2+1+-5: 21

Thurid backpedals at the strikes- even the ones that miss. She's slowing, and swearing, and the redness that promises to fade to purple and yellow of bruises is beginning to bloom on her limbs. She grips the hammer, shakes her head to cast of droplets of sweat and flick the hair from her eyes. She hefts it up, and brings it crashing down- striking Aryia's arms as she brings them up in defense. The hammer is lifted again, and the panting Jotun brings it down again- if she can't send Aryia flying, she's trying to crush her down. But it's clear that Thurid is tiring. Her swings are sloppy and her grip is not as strong as it was.

GAME: Aryia rolls weapon0: (20)+12: 32 (THREAT)
GAME: Aryia rolls weapon0: (20)+12: 32 (THREAT)
GAME: Aryia rolls damage0+damage0: aliased to 1d8+2+1d8+2: (5)+2+(1)+2: 10
GAME: Aryia rolls weapon0: (3)+12: 15
GAME: Aryia rolls weapon0-5: (15)+12+-5: 22

The wood hammer crashes against raised arms, feet digging into the sand to the shins from each hit. She grits her teeth as her bones are rattled. The pugilist is dripping sweat, her looking tired from her exertion but still standing steady.

There's a moment where she see's Thurid raise for one more strike, the sky behind her half-giant friend. The two statues to the gods of battle framing her. Aryia crouches down deep. Leaps up. Flips backwards midair.

And the toes of her boot smash cleanly against Thurid's jaw.

The shadow elf lands in the sand, dripping sweat and heaving with bruises growing on her arms.

The gathered crowd cheers as Aryia stumbles over, checking on her warrior-friend.

Thurid's teeth were already gritted for the strike, so at least she doesn't bite off anything important as her world is rocked by Aryia's booted foot. Her head flies back, sending a fresh cascade of sweat droplets flying from her hair. Her eyes roll back and her grip loosens on the hammer. Her knees go, and she topples backwards onto the sand. It takes a while for someone as tall as her to fall all the way to the ground. She's only out for a few moments- so by the time Aryia comes over, she's blinking away the starrs, though she makes no attempt to stand until the world stops spinning. "Ha... magnificent." she pants.

Aryia is grinning as Thurid comes to, one of the ring-watchers coming over to hand the elf a waterskin, which she offers to Thurid. There's a breathy sort of laugh that comes from the mute woman. "Got all your teeth?" she asks with a hand, sitting down on her knees beside the Angorite. <Handspeech>

Thurid laughs too, between her panting breaths. She fills her mouth from the skin, turns to spit a mouth full of blood and sand, and then turns back to take another swig- managing to sshuffle so that she's propping herself up on one elbow to make drinking easier. At the question, she reaches into her mouth to check that they're firmly seated, and then flashes a bloodied grin. "Not at all, but not lost any new ones." she laughs, as she wipes her hand clean first in the sand and then on the skirt of her outfit. "You've gotten too quick for me." she says to Aryia. "And you pack a mighty punch to boot."

Aryia snerks at the answer, her offering a hand to help Thurid get situated. The praise makes her grin grow into a slightly embarrassed one, her rubbing the back of her neck. "Thank you. Your hammer hits like a wagon," she answers, poking at her gut tenderly and wincing slightly. "Yes, that will bruise for sure." <Handspeech>

Thurid manages to sit up now, legs still splayed out, and one of her hands used for support. She free one- the one that wasn't in her mouth moments ago, reaches out to clap Aryia on the shoulder and squeeze it firmly. "I could tell at a glance you'd grown stronger. Now I know for certain you have. Well done." she says to her. "When my ears stop ringing, We ought get to the baths. Bring these bruises out sooner than later." she says then.

Aryia beams as her shoulder is engulfed by the large mit. "Thank you," she says again with her hands. "It's been a trial to get to this point, but I'm really glad you helped me early on. Gave me the confidence to keep trying."

The mention of the baths makes the pugilist's face warm in bliss. "Fuck yes. Let's."

Once Thurid had her wits about her, Aryia rises, holding out a hand to get the Angorite to her feet. Despite the height difference. <Handspeech>

Thurid accepts the hand gratefully, and knuckles the sand with her other to push herself to her feet with a groan. She slaps her own cheeks a couple of times, and then shakes her head, to dispell the lingering effects of Aryia's knockout kick, and then nods her head. "At this rate, I've no doubt you'll be stronger than I am, soon." she says to Aryia. "Though you could still stand to work on your definition a bit." she adds, squeezing the smaller woman's bicep. "Are you eating enough?" she wonders.

Aryia rubs her arm at the idea of surpassing Thurid. She may have beat the warpriest with minimal magical involvement, but if they brought the hammer down, so to speak, things might turn out differently. But still, the thought didn't do anything to wipe the proud grin off her lips as she hoists the larger woman up.

The elf pouts, her muscled yet lean arm squished under the appraising hand. "I eat plenty! Not everyone can be as ripped as you, you know?" she motions quickly, poking at an unblemished spot on Thurid's arm as they start to leave. <Handspeech>

-End Scene-