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Sparring match with Fear

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Sparring match with Fear

Post by Ryokoshky on Sat Nov 03, 2018 9:25 am

It had been some time since Sig had found his way back into Kyrias, on top of that, even longer since he had found his way to the city atop the volcano, Av'eden. His travels across the land had brought him to a few places he had wished to see in his adolescents and none of them seemed to hold the same grandeur he held them too. The sight of the grand fortress though always brought a pang of guilt to his heart. He had turned his back on his homeland for so long, that he now came to know it as homesickness. The streets filled with slaves running about ordered by mere warriors to do the bidding of the elite. In no other city could he see such a finely oiled machine at work, and in no other city could he find the spectacle, or rush that he was about to seek. It didn't take him long to navigate his way through the streets avoiding begging slaves or the occasional Heanta that'd recognize him as an elite, though he kept on his way. Until he reached his destination, on the outside he knew the building well.

He took his time to sign himself up for a training battle, having the attendants in the arena send out a slave to find the man he wished to battle, Sig assumed the man would be in the town still, and while he waited he took his time to prepare himself. Slipping out of his nicer attire into a tan shirt, and dark blue sleeveless vest, putting on his more form fitting pants, along with his drak'na before waiting patiently to enter the arena. While waiting for the slave to return and report whether his challenger was in fact in town or not he took a seat among the stands to watch the battles unfold. The arena was rather spacious, allowing the combatants a wide area, approximately fifty feet to do battle. The walls had fallen and crumbled in some spots, re-erected with wooden walls in some places, and others with much sturdier stone walls. He was even impressed that the walls had been given some decent height, taking into mind that some contestants abilities would reach outside the walls and even roof of the open building. The two heanta fighting seemed poorly matched for each other, an emaciated heanta, from where he sat it looked as if one of his horns had been filed off with the other shattered horribly, yet he still attempted to stand with ground with a crudely made wooden spear. His opponent on the other hand, held every advantage, from armor to protect himself, to a finely made hammer he continued to bludgeon the poor slave. No one made a move to stop the man as he continued beating the other, even when it was obvious he had no plans of fighting back any longer. 

Sigdrifumal held his tongue, the bile in the back of his throat at the spectacle would only make things worse, and not for the slave. He didn't believe the slave deserved to die for this amusement, better suited as a cog in the machine, but he also did not know the circumstances for this battle. Once it had finished new stone walls had begun to be erected over the wooden portions, he assumed that meant either two skilled fighters were about to enter the arena, or that his mark had arrived.

Sigdrifumal "Sig" Braene Rakoris A-4

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