Fate - First Reply Deafening Silence

[Brenna]

Brenna considered the axe heading straight for her face with almost a detached curiosity. Her uncle would have berated her for letting her guard fall the way she had, and it had been a stupid mistake. A text book number one mistake: she had taken her eyes off her opponent. For someone who had no hearing removing one of the few remaining useful senses in a fight was a critical error. The man she was fighting had used the split second her attention was divided to move with a speed she hadn't expected of him. Text book error number two: underestimated opponent. First he had hooked her shield with his axe and pulled forward, then he had used the momentum his yank had caused to sweep her legs out from under her as she stumbled. Stupid. Weak. She was furious that despite the intense training she had been going through for the past two years she was still miles behind the people who should be her peers in terms of strength. But if brute force wasn't her friend she would use what was.

As the axe sailed towards her she rolled to her left, snatching up her sword in the same movement and landing on the balls of her feet. Absentmindedly she berated herself for dropping the weapon: sloppy. She felt the axe thud into the ground a split second later, could see the way his mouth moved - some kind of curse perhaps - she did not know for she didn't have a full view of his lips. Brenna could see the shield to her right but she waited. Her opponent was mad, he would swing at her with slightly red visors next. He had thought he had won and he didn't want to lose against a girl, let alone a deaf chick. Almost on cue he lunged at her, bringing the axe up in a huge curve and left his shield slightly down. Her uncle would berate his sloppiness too. When he stepped within her guard, with all her strength, she stomped the rim of her shield sending it spinning upwards. It hit the man square in the nose. She could imagine the nasty sound it would have made. Before the shield could sail back down again she plucked it from the air and righted the wrong she had committed in the first place of dropping both shield and weapon.

The man stumbled back and dropped both shield and axe as all attention was diverted now to his nose. Blood poured down his mouth and chin and Brenna couldn't help the slight grimace - she hadn't meant to cause that much pain.

Sorry. She signed, but he didn't speak her language, nor did he particularly care. She caught one word as he spoke to a friend who ran over - broken. Brenna grimaced. His friend shot her a look and said something el-- yes she knew exactly what that meant. She quietly accepted the overly aggressive bash to her shoulder as he pushed past her to exit the arena behind her. She didn't bother to turn and watch them go, instead heading to where her warmer clothes were piled along with her waterskin.

She had come here to train on her own in the early hours: even if she was away from home her uncle wouldn't tolerate her not going through the manoeuvres he was teaching her. So she had found this small arena in the days she had been waiting to hear about her brother and, in her previous times visiting, nobody else had shown up to use it. The boys had simply been passing when they had noticed her training and had decided to ask for a fight. It was always the same. She was small, she wasn't overly muscular though she was well toned. She looked like an easy meal ticket at the offset but then someone would discover she was deaf, an extra layer of arrogance would set in hard. Brenna wasn't an easy meal ticket. She wasn't the best, she was catching up on years of training her mother hadn't allowed her to do, but she wasn't easy. She wouldn't be her fathers daughter if she was.

Picking up her water skin she took a long drink.

 

[Magrin Kor]

Every settlement had an arena, a pit or just a circle molded into the earth where men fought. It seemed as though it were an expression of the immortal spirit for men to challenge one another but here in the Eretejva Tundra, among the Nordenfiir the women fought too and they fought as hard or harder than the men. In this place, among these people fighting and revelry went hand in hand to the point that to fight was to revel.

-----

The Wanderer's large, fur lined boots shifted across the earth as he walked. On his way into the arena he passed two men, one helping the other on his way while he held his nose. Even if he hadn't seen the blood his senses would have detected the copper in the air, the faint metallic smell that went unnoticed by most. There was a time, years ago when he was just a youth that he wouldn't have noticed it either but that seemed so long ago now. He barely remembered it.

Proceeding ahead he moved past the two men who were leaving, never speaking to either of them though he heard one cursing under his breath about the girl who had done this to him. Once he'd moved on, the two somewhere in his rear he'd have chuckled under his breath. Something about it was funny.

When he entered the arena he surveyed the area, turning his head slowly so the blue of his eyes could move over everything. He'd seen her then, drinking from her water skin and at a distance he examined her. She wasn't large, small really but then who was he to talk; he might have been considered large in any other place but here there were few Nordenfiir who didn't stand at least a few inches above him. Even many of the women were close to his height. No matter really, from what he could see she appeared strong.

Magrin had approached her, never caring if she had seen him or not. The Cloak he wore fastened to his shoulders and hanging easily from him, his tunic and trousers tight to his frame but permitting movement comfortable. Gray hair was pulled back though several strands were loose on his brow. When his arms pressed the cloak backwards his wrists were noticeably thick, encircled in leather bracers and the muscle continued up into his forearms and biceps. He looked stern but the depth of his eyes contemplated. An Axe hung in a leather loop over his right hip, the etched crescent of its head measuring just over nine inches and fitted onto a lacquered handle that would fit comfortably into one or two hands. There was another, smaller axe on his left hip that was plainly visible; a Hand Axe.

"Know how to use that?"...his right hand had gestured to her sword making it obvious what he was talking about before he waited to see how she would respond to him. He knew nothing about her, not her name or who she was related to. Due to his own condition Magrin preferred to move often, he didn't know many people.

Brenna Ardullsson

 

[Brenna]

Brenna was debating going after the two boys. Guilt was gnawing at her gut and she wanted to make sure the boy wasn't too hurt, that she hadn't broken his nose. Memories of the day she had lost her hearing ran through her own mind like a fever dream: just one small step over the line of what was right for the training ground and what was right for the battlefield and you could do serious damage. Permanent damage. She poured out a little water into her hands which trembled slightly and splashed it on her face. It was stupid to dwell on the past, her uncle reminded her. A broken nose was nothing, children did that to themselves by running into walls or falling over. She couldn't be a warrior if she was going to worry about every little cut and scrape and injury she gave someone along the way.

The first sign she had that she was not alone was the sudden shadow that fell over her. Brenna half expected to see the boys back again, perhaps with back up, so as she turned sharply it was with the sword in her hand. Not in any real threatening position, but loose and easy to flick up to defend a blow if necessary. Instead, it was a stranger.

Nearly a foot taller than her he made her feel like a dwarf, but then that was nothing new amongst the Nordenfiir, and he was just as wide, but again nothing new. It was the smell that caught her off guard - he didn't smell... like a Nordenfiir. Norden, yes, but the animal scent was not the same as those who had found their Svalen. She also, suddenly, felt completely under dressed in comparison. When she trained she liked to strip down to basics - it allowed her freer movement but she actually enjoyed the cold. Her warmer clothes were piled onto the bench now behind her, but currently she wore a close fitting vest tunic and a pair of leggings. Her boots were the only thing that looked warm but a sheen of sweat coated her skin to show she clearly wasn't feeling the cold as of yet. Her hair was scraped back into a braid but silken whisps had escaped and framed a far too gentle looking face.

She swallowed and twisted the sword in her grip so that it spun once. A trick move that impressed young children but did require a little bit of skill.

"I'm..." she motioned to her ears and gave an apologetic smile. Brenna never spoke much out loud - she could a little, she had not been born deaf after all. But it had been over 10 years since she had last been able to hear the language, and like with all language if you weren't immersed in the early years you often forgot. She had also never heard the word 'deaf' when she was of hearing.

Attempting to learn... the beauty of their sign language was that most of it could be performed by just one hand, the second added nuances like tone. It was designed for a Nordenfiir who most likely would be holding a weapon at some point and still have to communicate.

 

[Magrin Kor]

It didn't seem to take him by surprise when she turned, sword in hand as though preparing to defend against a blow. By all accounts she had embarrassed one of the two he'd passed on his way into the arena so it made sense that she might assume that one of them wanted to settle accounts with her. As for Magrin, he appeared to be rather impassive upon seeing her raise her sword as though he wasn't worried for his safety.

She was a Bear. He couldn't tell if she was capable of making the change yet but he knew she was a bear. Like her he could smell the difference between them, unlike her Magrin knew exactly what she was. Being among the Nordenfiir gave him that experience, the knowledge to know what he was dealing with because as different as many Nordenfiir were individually they all carried a similar underlying scent.

As she spun the sword in her grip once he'd have watched, the blue of his eyes never changing but when she attempted to speak he seemed to understand. Perhaps it was the way she spoke, even the simple beginning to what would have been a sentence, the tone of it and of course when she signed the rest it was clear to him. "You can't hear."...the statement wasn't meant to be demeaning it was merely a statement as he understood it, a fact and just as much would have been conveyed via his verbal gestures and body language. He didn't know how to sign beyond the basics, pointing at something or indicating he saw something. There's never been the need to learn much more.

Instead of speaking Magrin would reach up, lifting his right hand so that he could loosen the cloak that hung from his shoulders before gathering it in a fist made by thick, calloused fingers which pulled it free and flung it aside carelessly so that it was out of the way. Now that he was without that minor trapping she could see him more easily, the musculature of his frame though his midsection likely had a bit of fat around it; hard to keep warm without a little extra. Then he turned and marched away from her.

Magrin would put exactly fifteen paces between them before he turned to face her again. Wrapping the fingers of his right hand around the haft of his axe he gripped it well beneath the head as he pulled it free of the leather loop it'd been sunk into while hanging off his right hip. He settled into a practiced stance, his right side ahead of the left at forty-five degrees. The Axe in his right hand was drawn back at height with his hip, the head cocked to the right of him while the remainder of the haft turned back behind him and extended over his glutes parallel with the ground. Lifting his left arm he'd have motioned to her, pointing with one finger so that there was no confusion as to whom he was meaning...."Come on."...he had assumed she could read lips however his stance and the gestures he made would likely tell her everything she needed to know.

 

[Brenna]

There was a tense couple of beats as the pair stared at one another before he moved his lips in a statement of fact. Brenna nodded once, confirming in her action that she could also read lips. She was about to go for the notebook she had taken to carrying with her from the moment she had lost her hearing when he ripped the cloak from about his shoulders and threw it carelessly into the stands. She hesitated. It was not an action she had expected from him. What she had expected was to be told to leave and that she was about to disrupt some lessons perhaps, or maybe he had booked this place out in advance. As he strode away from her she ran her eyes from his head to his feet making a quiet assessment. This man clearly had mileage under his belt when it came to fighting. The stride was confident, but not with arrogance like younger men. This was someone who knew his limits, his strengths, and was probably thinking over what he had already determined as her own points to exploit.

When he turned and beckoned her Brenna very slowly began to smile. It was rare that anyone older agreed to spar with her. Perhaps they were worried about the impact of her hearing on fighting or, as was often the case in her home town, they knew of the dangers she took on when fighting. Another serious blow to the head could be death. But the song of battle was something that hummed in her blood and she couldn't keep resisting it's call. She picked up the shield which she had set against the wall and absentmindedly wiped the blood from the rim where she had hit the boy. Valthar is going to kill me. Mother is going to kill me. The idea thrilled her even more.

She hadn't turned her back entirely on him so she could keep him in her peripheral vision. Not making that mistake again, Brenna thought to herself. When she was ready she took a breath and then stepped five paces from the stands and into the arena. Now there were ten and a bit of his strides between them. Her eyes flicked briefly to his stance - a text book form - so he wasn't planning to beat the living shit out of her just yet, excellent. Perhaps he would actually teach her. Another hesitation before offering him a genuine, shy smile, before slipping into her own stance. She went for another text book form most students were taught when facing an axe, bringing the shield in front of her and placing the sword over the top. With an axe, one of the major advantages was being able to rip away someone's shield and use the force of the drag to send a person to the floor. Other than that, if both fighters were good, everything else could be matched.

The hesitation and wariness was gone now. Brenna's blue eyes were filled with nothing but excitement.

 

[Magrin Kor]

In every person there existed the call of battle, he knew this so when he saw the slow smile begin to form on her features it must have pleased Magrin to some extent. His response was subtle but the expression set across his features seemed to shift in a display of satisfaction. Of course he hadn't expected her to shrink away, she was Nordenfiir after all and answering the call of battle was natural.

When he saw her assume her stance Magrin regarded her momentarily, he recognized the stance she had taken its strengths and flaws. As he noted the excitement beginning to fill her eyes he moved forward. There was no hesitation.

The Axe in his right hand would raise, coming out from behind him so that the remainder of the haft ran diagonally across his torso as the head came level with his pectoral while he moved towards her. Bringing his left hand across he'd grip the haft closer to the bottom, beneath his right hand which had cinched around the haft closer to the underside of the axehead. He looked like he might lift it up, over his head and send it chopping down at her but no.

As Magrin came within reach of her he would take a step to his right so that he could offset himself to her left. The Axe swung as Magrin moved, arcing down to height with his midsection as he swept it out to his left while manipulating the angle of attack as he used footwork to reposition himself around her. Hooking with the axe he'd he have driven the haft at the underside of the axehead to make contact with the outside of her shield rim, beneath the cover of her sword so that the axehead could catch behind the shield. At the point he'd have used his right foot as a pivot point, pivoting inwards to sweep his left side backwards and drive the momentum of his swing further with the intent either rip the shield from her grasp or throw her on the same trajectory away from him, into the dirt while he recovered.

 

[Brenna]

Brenna's breathing hitched the moment that he began to move. Strength was not going to be her greatest tool here, not against a man who was nearly a foot taller than her and was at least two and a half of her wide, so she needed to use her brain instead. As he brought his axe up in an arc all she could think was that a head on attack would make no sense against her initial stance: it was the easiest one for her sword to block. Of course he could be assuming from the offset she wouldn't be able to match the full force of a two handed strike, but she was confident he wasn't arrogant enough for such a move. Not without testing the measure of her strength first. On the other hand he could be going easy on her by giving her such a simple blow to counter; but the Norden didn't work like that. Which only left the option that it was a feint. It was a 50 50 chance which of her sides she would go for - her left or her right. Given her right was her sword arm and she had greater freedom in movement she gambled.

As he pivoted to focus on her left she moved to her right. It wasn't by much - he was coming at her with speed - but it was at least a step and in a fight a slight miscalculation meant being thrown in the dirt without a shield, or it meant just being knocked slightly off kilter. The power behind the swing jarred her arm right up to the shoulder as it thudded into her shield. Brenna couldn't help the reflective duck of her head as it hit home. However, rather than having a full purchase on the rim of her shield with the curve of the blade, it was only the tip that managed to purchase a hold. It meant that his following movement didn't have as much force as he was probably hoping.

She had a second to draw in a quick intake of breath and loosen her body. The danger with a shield yank was attempting to hold on to the shield and pull back. If you had the strength to match your attacker it could work really well of course; instead of your opponent sending you sprawling you could lock their weapon and pull them close to you with next to no defence of their own. But Brenna wasn't strong enough for that yet and she didn't fancy having her arm yanked from its socket. So instead of fighting the direction of his axe, she pushed herself into it instead, turning the momentum that had meant to be used against her for her own benefit. Thanking the good sense she had had earlier to strap her shield tightly to her forearm as she went towards the ground as he had probably intended, she put her palms out and flipped herself over in an elegant cartwheel, landing in a crouch on her feet. It was a unique move, especially with a sword, and required the person to drop the sword a second before their palms hit the floor and snatch it back up before they sprung back to their feet.

It was a small win but it meant that she wasn't laying stunned on the floor, and it also meant he wasn't getting a moments break. She had landed with her feet crossed, so as she stood up she was able to spin back around to face him in the same movement. Two steps and she was back within sword range. Given the trajectory of his blow, it would probably mean his weapon arm was stretched out behind him, unless of course he recovered in time to receive her sword. Even then he probably wasn't expecting an attack so soon after his move and it would at least put him on the back foot. So she didn't swing directly at his axe arm, which was the most obvious point to aim for, instead she went for the opposite hip, bringing her shield up at the same time to move counter to her sword and punch instead towards his axe arm. If he did raise it in time it would make it more difficult to bring it to the aid of his hip at least; it would make him think.

 

[Magrin Kor]

Survive long enough and you never underestimate any opponent. Magrin knew better than to underestimate her and he silently appreciated that after such an agile display of dexterity she rose to attack him however she might also be able to read his lips when he stated indifferently..."To soon."...during their next exchange which would likely be full of action and simple yet relevant movement.

He'd swung his axe in front of him, right to left then driven it further after the impact with against the outside of her shield while his left side swung back during the pivot so that he could use momentum in an attempt to toss her or pull the shield from her grasp. As he recovered from this Magrin would tuck his left arm tight against his hip while the right remained somewhere across his body, below the pectoral with axehead cocked forward.

When she came at him Magrim would allow his weight to shift onto his left foot so that he could step backwards, transitioning from a right sided lead to left sided one. It would change the angle of attack and create distance so that while Magrin pressed his axe outwards to catch her swordblow on the axe haft, between his hands as she swung he was also withdraw from the shield punch meant to crack against his arm.

Another reaction followed as Magrin first pumped his arms to press her sword off the haft of his axe and push it to the right of her before driving his axe back across to his own right. The Axe would come across seeking to take advantage of what Magrin had hoped would be her own recovery by planting the head against the inside of her shield to knock it wide and to her left, opening her up while he followed through. Snapping his right arm upwards he'd rotate his wrist outwards after contact, releasing the haft with his left hand at the same time so that he could send the lacquered wood of the handle whipping up to catch the underside of her jaw while the swift motion carried the axe itself up and angled it back over his right shoulder, his elbow cocked out the right side as the motion completed. It was the kind of blow that could break a jaw, make someone spit a mouthful of their teeth if real power was put into it but the intent of attempting to clip her with the upwards motion of the handle instead of her full of striking her with it was as much to teach her as it was to leave a lasting mark and impression on her.

"Not at the same time."...Magrin seemed to say irregardless, if she wanted to learn she needed to learn to set up her attacks, make her opponent go where she wanted them to go. He was watching her, the way she moved like a Wolf studying its prey before the kill.

 

[Brenna]

Brenna knew she had messed up when he shifted his lead foot. It threw her whole plan off kilter and it was a stupid mistake caused by her own over eagerness to impress. As he had probably planned, when the shield strike fell into nothing when she had been counting on resistance, her footing slipped. Every movement after that felt like she was watching it happen from a detached viewpoint with the added downside of being the one with all the aches and pains. Her shield went wide - wrong - she found herself completely exposed - stupid - and then she got a nasty clip on the jaw for her mistake - fair.

Brenna's eyes watered a little as she rubbed the red mark along her jaw and chin where the shaft of the axe had caught her. It was going to be a beautiful bruise. Blinking away her bodies automatic reaction to any kind of shocking blow she then slowly lowered her hand and ran a tongue along her teeth; it could have been worse. Bre watched his lips move and then very slowly she nodded, though there was a hint of confusion in her eyes. It was hard when she couldn't ask a question. Guess she was going to learn with her face again if she did the same mistake in a row.

Fabulous.

Giving her shield arm a slight shake because that had born the brunt of the force aside from her jaw she then dropped back down into the same position with the sword over the top of her shield. He wanted her to go slower, dodge or parry, then pull back and breathe. Well, she thought that was what he wanted.

 

[Magrin Kor]

Narrowing his eyes when she reset her original stance he watched her, a sort of knowing grin touching the corners of his mouth in a subtle fashion as he observed her carefully. Magrin knew that the blow he'd landed would hurt, he would not shy away from striking her when they were squared with one another. Now she would know that too. Studying her stance, it was text book as one might expect however it also raised questions that went unspoken by him.

The Axe raised and angled back over his shoulder would ask his questions for him and he would make careful note of her response...

"So she has spirit---but does she have teeth?"

...the remark came cleanly, spoken clearly and at the same time as Magrin came forward for her again. Crossing the distance to come within range of striking he would lift the axe off his right shoulder while his foot came down, planting into the ground ahead of him and turning him into a right sided lead again. The Axe swung down in a diagonal blow starting over his right shoulder and sweeping towards the outside of her shield over her left shoulder with force and momentum behind it. As he made the blow Magrin twist at the waist, allowing his right to move with the action of swinging his axe so that it was fluid, natural while his left arm hovered at height just below his pectoral muscle, fist closed and elbow cocked back behind him.

He wanted to smash her shield, to force it aside and her with it. The fall of the axe was momentous, playing at the edge of her guard.

 

[Brenna]

Brenna flashed him a brilliant grin as he voiced his question followed up by a wink. Despite the pain spreading along her jaw she was enjoying herself. Now she knew he wasn't going to go easy on her she needed to focus or she would be a collection of bruises when she went to see Valthar later on. She stretched her hand that held the shield handle a little to get some feeling back into her fingers after the jar earlier and then tightened her grip.

This time she had a more reasonable idea of how strong his blow was going to be. As he brought it down over his shoulder towards her shield she took a breath and stepped into it, twisting the shield at an angle. Rather than the axe hitting the rim of her shield it hit nearer the centre of the large wooden disc as a slight incline. The obvious upsides were that the axe didn't get the purchase needed to rip the shield from her and by tilting the shield there was a lower chance the axe would get buried in the wood. The downsides of such a move was that the strength of the blow would have to be taken by the shield holder. If they weren't strong enough it could send them sprawling anyway. Knowing it could well do the same to her in her current position, as she felt the axe make contact she moved with the flow, going to her knee briefly. It still jarred but it wouldn't put her on her back. It also meant she still had good footing to push back up straight away, casting his hit back towards him and giving him a shove to force him to take a few steps back.

Previously she would have followed it with her own attack straight away but she reflected upon his advice and didn't move in instantly, instead she took advantage of him having to readjust his footing to take five quick steps, one foot over the other, so that she was just in the far corner of his peripheral vision. What Brenna lacked for in strength in comparison to most she made up for in speed. Once she had the position she wanted on his axe-less hand she lunged forward with her own blow. She had started with her sword down low, bringing it up in a arc to cut across his body from his left hip to his right shoulder. Even with forcing him to turn quickly to parry it was doable. However, as she brought the swipe up as if to hit him in the shoulder she swung the blade at the last minute so it sweeped over the top of her own head and instead changed the direction of the strike from his right to the left side of his face instead. If she was successful she would land a very delicate cut along his his cheek, pulling her blow at the last second so her steel would only lightly kissed his skin.

 

[Magrin Kor]

As the axe struck her shield Magrin, watching her fall to a knee as the force of the blow reverberated back up his arm anticipated that she would use her shield to press him back while she regained her footing. In response he'd started to draw his arm backwards so that the process was much easier while transitioning into a backpedaling motion that was also more controlled than if he had just allowed her to push him away. As he brought the Axe back he could position it diagonally across his chest so that the head hovered near his right shoulder, the haft ending near his left hip and gripped in his left hand which he'd taken it in several inches higher then the butt.

Backpedaling very easily allowed Magrin to turn as she used cross-steps to circle around to his left so that he could face her squarely instead of allowing her clean access to his side. As he concluded the motion he'd have set his right leg back so that he lead with his left side when she lunged in at him, closing distance to strike with her sword.

Magrin's lips had formed a small smile, barely evident when her sword started along its path. Using the haft of the axe below the grip of his left hand he'd press his left arm upwards to catch her sword on its underside as she swung it, diverting it from the natural path she'd intended to carry it up, over her shoulder. As he did this Magrin would press in, reversing his right hands hold on the haft of the axe beneath the axehead while stepping around close to her right side so that he could jam the lacquered wood of the haft horizontally into the underside of her bicep and impede her from resetting her swordarm before he struck. Lifting his left leg he'd attempt to deliver a vicious knee to the right side of her back, level with her kidneys before thrusting his arms out as his leg came back down so that the wooden haft of the axe was forced deeper against the underside of her arm, pushing her away to topple her.

It was only then that Magrin seemed to notice the faint sting from his body and she was swift with her steel, she'd clipped him on the outside of the left hip when her stroke had begun. A minor wound, some would say it was a small price to pay for superior positioning but that was dependent on the battle.

 

[Brenna]

Brenna's lips thinned into a displeased line when she missed her original mark, but she knew he would retaliate quickly and she had no plans to get another nasty bruise so soon. Her bicep stung as he stepped to her right and jammed the shaft of the axe horizontally into the underside of her arm, but now she had a faint idea on what he was planning to do.

Her arm was twisted awkwardly due to the axe shaft but instead of fixating on the pain of that long enough he could deliver the blow to her back, she wrapped her hand around it and used the benefit of his strong hold on it to flip. It was another more unconventional move for most of the warriors amongst the Nordenfiir. As she pushed down her weight on the shaft of the axe, she threw her shoulders back and kicked her legs forward, seconds before his leg collided with her. It felt like the whole movement happened in slow motion and she could feel the very faint brush of his knee. If her reaction had been a second slower her kidneys would be burning by now. As it was she landed on her feet, her arm that had been twisted by the axe was now still caught by his hand but no longer did the shaft dig into her armpit and impend her movement. As he followed through the the movement he thought would topple her - and it would have done had she been where she was a second ago - it actually helped in her own tug of her arm in releasing her entirely from his grasp.

She skipped back two paces, panting.

 

[Magrin Kor]

Among the Nordenfiir he met few and fought fewer that were adept at the skill of acrobatics, it seemed fitting that she defied this trend and showcased a talent for something that he, as a larger man could likely never do without difficulty. Even if he could do basic flips or displays he had to doubt he could compete with the grace and pose that she showed. As she skipped back two paces Magrin found himself laughing, his head thrown back briefly as he showed his contentment causing his features to soften momentarily and the grey hair on his head to shake with the gesture.

As his gaze came down to focus on her again he had started shifting his hands over the haft of his axe again so that he gripped, right over left near the bottom of the lacquered wood..."Small teeth but they bite."...he'd have said as the axe stretched out to the right of him, fit securely in the palms of both hands with thick fingers wrapped around it.

The Axe began an arc that took it up over Magrin's head then; he'd have started moving towards her at the same time to cover distance quickly, she had only skipped back two paces so the distance was minimal as is. As the Axe arced up over Magrin's head from his right to left he'd have planted his left foot ahead so that he could follow through with the natural momentum of the axe as it came arcing back down from its higher elevation to sweep around at the outside of her right leg below the knee. He wasn't trying to seriously harm her, the blow was heavy and would do serious damage but it was evident and Magrin was confident she could avoid it; he wanted to see how.

By now Magrin's limbs were starting to feel the heat of exertion but fatigue was an afterthought to him. The way he moved seemed to indicate that he was no stranger to swinging his weapon for long periods of time, especially in the heat of a battle.

 

[Brenna]

Was he... laughing? Brenna cocked her head to the side as she watched him toss his head back and the shake in his shoulders. He was. It seemed to soften his previously normal for Norden grumpy exterior and she couldn't help as her own lips tugged into a smile in response. It was very rare her people seemed to show actual joy, especially to strangers. Even if she left here covered in bruises there would be a slight skip to her step to know she had at least brightened part of someone's day today.

To his comment Brenna inclined her head a little - a thank you. She was going to take it as a compliment.

As he rushed as her she sucked in a breath. Should have put more room between you, she chastised herself. It meant that her reaction times were going to have to be spot on this time, especially as he was heading towards her with an over head throw. The whole beauty of an axe compare to a sword was the difference in weight distribution - with an axe once you put the initial force behind it you could almost just let it fall and it would still cause an immense amount of damage. Brenna wasn't planning on being there to find out just how much that was going to hurt. Slipping into a slight running start position, she tested her own stamina and explosion sprint skills by running straight for him as he brought the axe over his head. She could see the blow coming for her knee, but once it got to hip height she kicked her left leg forward at the same instance she dropped to the ground. The speed of her sprint start combined with the energy from the kick sent her skidding through the rough terrain and through the man's legs. To ensure the axe missed her entirely she threw her shield arm back and rested her cheek on it, so her whole body was flat to the ground for the movement. Once she passed under him, she got her bent right foot up and under her and brought her left leg round in a hard kick to the back of his right knee.

Whether she connected or not once she completed the movement, the force of the kick itself would have pivoted her body back around so that she was facing him and would have brought her left leg back under her so she could push herself back up into a standing position. This time she attempted to put five paces between them with her quick backwards skips.

The move had cost her a little skin from her exposed arms, her vest tunic was covered in dirt and she was breathing hard but her eyes were blazing with the adrenaline rush.

 

[Magrin Kor]

As she went skidding between is legs Magrin displayed a mixture of annoyance and satisfaction. While he admired her agility, speed and acrobatic skills the risks involved in the maneuvers she performed only paid off as long as they were successful. He'd made such an obvious attack so that he could measure her response and now she'd responded.

Disappearing from view as she went skidding between his legs Magrin's head would crane downwards momentarily but only as long as it took for him to feel the impact of the blow to the back of his right knee which caused him to buckle down onto it. This however did nothing to stop the momentum of his axe.

The Axe which had been arced overhead and brought around to swing at the outside of her left leg let momentum drive it as it continued to sweep across to the right of him. Rather than fight the momentum Magrin moved with it. As the axe swept out to his right Magrin twist at the waist, turning to the right with the follow through of his axe while releasing his grip with the left so that he could take advantage of the full arc of motion of his right arm. Twisting around, drawing his right shoulder back with the motion would allow him to look back behind him as he rotated his arm to complete the entire revolution of the swing. Such as it was anyone standing in a wide arc around him would likely have their legs taken out from under them and in this case the closer the better as it meant the haft of the axe would likely be what struck rather than the head. It was both an offensive and defensive move all at once, ensuring that anyone behind Magrin was still within his scope of attack and still allowing him to ward them off.

As the rotation of the Axe concluded it would come up, behind his head to rest horizontally on the back of his shoulders from right to left, his right hand still affixed around the lacquered wood of the haft while the axe head set itself over the back of his left shoulder easily. Magrin pushed up off the ball of his right foot, coming back to his full height before swinging around to face her again uncertain how his follow through had fared though knowing that after that kick had landed she had been close to him.

 

[Brenna]

The thrill of seeing her kick make contact almost cost her her feet.

Despite going down the axe didn't thud into the ground like she had hoped, he had managed to twist the trajectory into a wide arc around his back. It was incredible to watch and it hadn't been something she had thought about doing before. Of course if someone took out your leg from behind you you should swing towards that attack straight away. When you were down on your knees someone could use the opportunity to slit your throat from behind. She hadn't been counting on any kind of attack in her direction now she was behind him but she was definitely not expecting it that fast. It came at her on her third hop and she caught it out the corner of her eye.

Son of a-

Having been mid movement anyway it was hard to get both feet off the ground entirely to clear the sweep of the weapon. Her right foot cleared it fine, but the left foot got a nasty slash just above the tread of her boots. If she hadn't been wearing them the damage would have been a lot worse, but thankfully all she had was another blossoming bruise that went to her bone. It would go beautifully with her purple face. Either way she flashed him a smile of reassurance as he stood up.

 

[Magrin Kor]

Magrin stood there, watching her from across a short distance as she flashed him a smile of reassurance. He knew his axe had made contact but until he saw her he hadn't known where. Once he saw the slash that graced the top of one of her boots he'd have known, the boot was likely ruined and her foot would be bruised but she would keep her leg. His features remained unflinching but he assessed her from across the distance that separated them.

The Axe would come up off the back of his shoulders, lift in the grasp of his right hand and swung in diagonal arc that took it from his right shoulder to left hip then brought it around, up to his left shoulder and back down to his right hip with a rotation of the wrist to control the momentum. Unlike her earlier trick the move wasn't meant to impress though performed in quick succession it could have that effect, Magrin did it to loosen his joints and muscles though so that his arm wouldn't tense to much. When he finished the movement he set the axe onto the ground, balanced on the axehead while the haft leaned against the outside of his leg.

"Pretty good for someone attempting to learn."...he'd have said, he spoke intentionally slow so that she'd have no trouble reading his lips..."Are you sure you're not trying to fleece me?"...he joked with her then, he could see how someone who took her lightly or was looking to humiliate her could find themselves on the losing end of a contest. It made sense to him now why the two he'd passed on his way into the arena had been cursing her name.

"What's your name?"...Magrin probably couldn't understand what she signed to him but he would attempt it if she did or maybe she could use that sword of hers to scratch it out on the ground of the arena, the thought of which prompted him to ask..."Can you write?"...it seemed wrong to him that he might not know the name of the person who stood across from him otherwise and few of the people he crossed axes with as it so often happened were left in much of a condition to tell him who they were as is.

 

[Brenna]

Brenna kept her body tight like a coiled spring as he brought his axe up... and then relaxed when she realised he was manoeuvring to loosen up his own limbs. It seemed the fight was at an end for now. She dropped her arms from their stance and carefully eased the shield off, resting it against the side of her leg. She sheathed her sword too. Once her arms were free she bent down to touch her toes, putting her head between her ankles to stretched out her limbs. Whilst she was down there she reached behind her back to stretch out her shoulders. As she stood up she caught his lips moving.

The compliment burnt a blush across her cheeks and the ridge of her nose. Brenna grinned again at him, pride shining in her oceanic like blue eyes before bursting into a laugh. Unlike when she spoke, her vocal chords were not strained when it came to this; clearly she was a person who liked to, and did, laugh often. In fact it was rather startling how melodious it was for someone who was otherwise silent. She shook her head: no she was not fleecing him. She put a hand over her heart and held her other hand up in the 'Scouts Honour' symbol.

But as the situation began to turn into conversation she held up her hand to signal to give her a moment. Now the adrenaline was wearing off her foot was beginning to throb harder and as she hefted up her shield and walked back to where she had piled her stuff it was with a slight limp. She was trusting him by turning her back to him in doing so and Brenna briefly glanced over her shoulder to make sure this wasn't another test. Once back at the stand she sat down, stretching out her injured leg in front of her, and begun to rummage n her bag for her notebook. Once she had located it and withdrew it, she waved it at him and patted the seat beside her.

As he decided whether or not to accept her invitation to sit with her she scribbled down the answer to his question.

Brenna Ardullsson. And yours?

She would then turn the notebook to face him so he could see her answer. She wondered as doing so whether he would recognise her fathers name in her surname; he was a renown warrior and this man seemed to walk the same path.

 

[Magrin Kor]

There was no need to test her in this regard. Every Nord knew better than to turn their back on an enemy and she was not his enemy, had she been there meeting would have likely turned out differently. While she went to sit down Magrin would take his axe, lift it in his right hand and replace it in the leather loop on his belt over his right hip where it would be within easy reach if he desired to hold it again. Once that was done he would stride towards her while she scribbled in the notebook she had procured from her belongings.

As he came closer to her his shadow would stretch out over her form, he didn't sit yet. Magrin didn't seem the type to sit often unless it was across the table from someone, enjoying a mug of mead or another beverage, that or if he was eating; he liked to eat. There was nothing offensive about his body langue nor did it appear he tired of standing.

When she turned her notebook to show him her answer he inclined himself towards her, tilting his head slightly and squinting his eyes. His vision was fine but sometimes it paid to play into his age. Once he'd read her answer he'd raise his head..."Ardullsson."...the name seemed to cause a flash of recognition behind his eyes..."I've heard the name. A known Warrior as I recall."...but the familiarity seemed vague, as a Warrior names of renown were often traded between one another.

"I am Magrin Kor."...he didn't expect her to recognize his name..."It's good to meet you, Brenna Ardullsson. Does your family live here or do you come from another settlement?"

 

[Brenna]

Brenna had to crane her neck a little now she was sitting down and he standing so she could read his lips as he spoke. She began nodding as he seemed to hover on her surname and scribbled:

Ardull was my father.

As he gave her his name she offered him another bright smile but it slowly faded, like the sun going behind a cloud, when he asked the reason for her being in the capital. The memories of the previous evening at the Mead Hall were still raw in her mind; it had been the reason she had sought out the training arena so early that morning. She hadn't been able to vent her own emotions in the moment, had had to be practical and strong for her brother. Her eyes lowered and she tapped her pencil against her notepad twice as if debating what to write before she did.

My family live in Faarin. I came here to see my brother; a few years ago he was thought dead in an attack on our home but we got news he had come back about a week ago, then he was taken to see the Queen. I came to make sure he was OK.

Is the Capital your home too?

A beat as she re-read what she had written and then she turned the notebook back to him. As he read it she took out her waterskin and took a long gulp, rubbing the jaw where he had hit her absentmindedly and offering the skin to him with a slight eyebrow raise.

 

[Magrin Kor]

There seemed to be a moment of recognition wherein while he towered over her he realized that it may have been awkward for her to look up at him. As for himself Magrin would read what she had scribbled in her notebook before accepting the water skin she offered him while he contemplated quietly.

As his large hand eclipsed the water skin, the other joining it shortly thereafter he would raise it to his mouth, tip his head back and drink deeply as though concealing a great thirst he had been concealing. It felt good when the cool water sprayed past his lips, wetting his tongue and throat, reinvigorating him. Outstretching his hand to her after lowering the skin he'd have handed it back to her, nodding his thanks before uncharacteristically shifting his stance so that he could sit next her, thinking better of it after she had invited him to take a seat.

Seated next to her Magrin's size would become even more apparent, his shoulders bowed beneath the tunic that covered his torso and his arms were extremely thick. When he took a deep breath his chest would raise heavily. Raising his right hand he rubbed the side of his head, calloused fingers scratching the faint scar that mixed with his hairline before he looked at her beside him..."Faarin, I know of it."...though the low tolerance of outsiders there meant that he hadn't visited often or for any length of time..."It is good your Brother lives. Perhaps there are gods that have offered your family a blessing, returning him to you after you thought him dead those years ago."...a paused and then he would add while looking at her..."Lucky for him to have such a strong sister to take care of him too."

The conversation seemed to come naturally to him, Magrin actually preferred the silence to the loud and boisterous voices of many others and speaking with her there seemed a serenity about the way communication was done. She might not speak but words, written or conveyed in sign language could be powerful. As Magrin considered her question about whether the capital was his home he'd eventually answer..."Nordengaard is my home. I live wherever my feet take me. It is better that way."...when this began she already noted the difference in his scent, he was not a Nordenfiir, many places did not take kindly to his particular affliction.

For a brief time his demeanor seemed to grow colder, sterner but then he relaxed. Kicking his right leg out he would flex it briefly, it didn't hurt were she'd kicked him but sometimes the pain came later. Looking at her he'd have said..."Enough rest. Take up your sword again, we shall have one more pass. This time you will do the attacking."...his jaw set, he chuckled.

 

[Brenna]

When he sat down the girl became even more aware of just how small she was in comparison - she eyed up one of his hands as he drank from her waterskin and a part of her wondered how easily he would find it to break a bone with just one hand alone. But, it didn't seem to bother her. Her father had been a huge man and the others in her community had always been a head or two taller than her. Brenna shifted her form automatically when he sat down so that she was still facing up, one foot stayed on the ground whilst the other leg bent at a right angle and rested against the stone bench instead. It just so happened to be her bruised foot so she treated it with a little more care. It also gave her time to inspect the damage to her boot which was now gaping. Taking a bit of leather thonging that was strapped around her wrist for hair emergencies, she used it to hastily patch up the boot instead.

When he gave her back the waterskin she took another sip herself before putting it away, keeping her eyes on his lips as he spoke. Brenna mulled over his words with her eyebrows pulled together a little. It had indeed been a blessing that he was alive at all. From what she had heard of the Red Mist battle and what little she had gleaned from Valthar since, it had been a horrific experience that by every right should have meant he died in that pit along with the others. Perhaps that was why it was so much harder to swallow that he was being thrown into danger again so soon. She did laugh when he mentioned her taking care of him and scrunched her nose up a little to show how badly a job she thought she was doing at that job.

It was more interesting to hear a bit more about him, it pushed the thoughts of her own family out of her mind. She cocked her head to the side at the very precise words he used. But why was it better? Her eyes seemed to ask. She didn't want to press it so she didn't write it down, but her expression left it as an open question whether he wanted to take it or leave it.

Instead she rolled her eyes and groaned when he told her to pick up her sword and mock collapsed across the bench with her hand on her forehead. However the curve of her smile betrayed her real feelings on the matter. After a moment or two more of pretending to not want to get up she rolled to her feet, bounced onto her toes and back down. Her foot was less than pleased but she ignored it. There was only a slight unbalance to her step as she followed him back to their precious positions in the middle of the arena, drawing her sword and strapping the shield back to her arm as she did so.

 

[Magrin Kor]

While she groaned, rolling her eyes and making a small fit of things which brought a thin smile to the corners of Magrin's mouth he would continue to sit, watching while she got back to her feet and moved to the center of the arena again with shield and sword. From where he was Magrin identified the slight imbalance in her posture caused by the bruising to her foot while he continued to stretch his right leg out to ensure it didn't cramp up later on after she'd caused him to buckle onto a knee by striking him from behind. Once he was satisfied he rose, slowly and made his way towards her.

Magrin's movements were slow but purposeful, he'd have carried himself back into the arena until he settled what he believed would be about a dozen paces away from her. As he came to a halt his right hand sought out the haft of his axe and he'd pull it from the leather loop on the side of his belt once again. Raising it in his hand his fingers flexed, squeezing the lacquered wood as though he were testing his hold on it.

The Axe came up to shoulder height and Magrin would turn it horizontal so that it ran shoulder to shoulder, the head hovering to his right while the haft stretched across to his left before taking it in both hands. With his right hand gripping it several inches beneath the head his left hand would grip inches above the butt ensuring that a large amount of the haft lay between the grip of his hands in their current position.

He stood squarely, neither side leading so that he could adjust as necessary. Looking across at her, his chest rose as he took a deep breath and a sudden gust of wind caused his gray hair to throw itself across his face before dying down again..."Come at me."...he'd have said, his lips moving clearly so that she could make out the words. Magrin intended for a quick final exchange, something to get the blood pumping for both of them again before they finished.

 

[Brenna]

The wind whipped the tendrils of hair that had escaped her braid across her face as she stood contemplating her next action, her bottom lip sucked between her teeth in a testament to just how hard she was thinking about it. She had seen how quickly he could turn the axe and her jaw and foot had felt the strength of his blows. Whatever she chose to do was going to end in more bruises, she was pretty sure, but she didn't want to just put half her heart into it because she knew she was likely to lose. Brenna wanted to learn from her mistakes and what was the point in being told the obvious from boring hits rather than taking full advantage of the situation? Besides, she wanted to prove that little teeth still hurt.

She took a deep breath, stretched onto the balls of her toes and then slid her right foot back.

Brenna didn't stay in the stance for long. Almost as soon as she had pushed her right foot back did she lean her weight back into it and use it to give her an acceleration of speed. The injury to her foot was apparently forgotten for the time being because she moved with the same swiftness as she had earlier before sliding between his legs. Perhaps he might even wonder if she was going to do the same move. Instead, she brought her sword from behind her right shoulder down to her left, aiming to cut across his front. But even as she completed the arc her knees bent and she pushed off to leap at him as well as swing. It was in the hope that her weight would add strength to her blow because she knew he was going to parry it, the most she could hope to do was make him move his footing to take the fall of her weight and the hit of her sword in one.

Once her feet touched the ground she didn't stop. What ensued next was a powerful volley of hit after hit after hit of her sword. Aiming towards his left shoulder, then his right knee; his midrift, the right shoulder, an ankle.