The Festival

Krigon grinned at the small test of wills. So his opponent knew his game, did he? Impressive, but no point in waiting around for his mind games to work if the man had already predicted it, they could end up standing there all day.

Krigon hunched his shoulders forward, and held his sword in the first position of the kendo katas, which angled the sword toward his opponents head, but allowed for quick movement, even a feint at this distance. With some quick footwork he closed the space between them, waiting for that split second in which the blonde man would give away his first move.

Akaelin recognized the angle of the sword as some funny japanese thing, but wasn't quite sure exactly what it was called. Taking in Krigons large size as the man charged at him, for once, Akaelin was glad he was so small in stature. It could definately be used to his advantage. He dropped to the ground and slid himself between the mans legs, digging one of the sai into the ground to stop himself before he slid too far. Instead of jumping back up like one would suspect, he pulled the sai out of the ground and twisted himself around into a crouching position. He aimed a quick jab at the back of the mans left knee. Armor was usually either weak at that part (since it was a joint and needed to have freedom to move) or completely nonexistant. He was hoping to breaking the tendons, eliminating use of that leg.

Krigon was surprised when instead of protecting his head, the man dived between his legs. He then cursed himself for not seeing it coming when he felt a sharp pain on his leg, and for the first time that day his own blood spilled.

'I've been out of practice too long...' he cursed himself, although he couldn't help but grin at the challenge. Acting like he was going to crouch down and hold his wound, he held out his sword with his right hand, acting like he was going to swipe blindly behind him.

Then, Krigon quickly back-flipped by propelling himself with his uninjured leg and arms, catching sight of an arm as he fell back towards the ground. He wrentched the dagger from his belt and aim for the appendage, while at the same time trying to land with his massive feet on the mans skull.

Akaelin instinctively ducked as the bigger man pretended to swipe backwards blindly. Instead, the man backflipped using his arms and uninjured leg. Akaelin looked up, seeing the mans feet come crashing down towards his head. Cursing, he moved forward and out of the way. However, it was too late for his right arm, and he ground his teeth together as he felt the sharp steel of the mans blade cut the whole way through, amputating the limb. He didn't think he would have time to reattatch the limb just yet. This guy probably wouldn't give him enough time. He needed to finish this fight quickly before he lost too much blood.

((Muse slowly dying again...))

((give your muse some coffee or...cocaine, I'm on a roll here!))

Krigon grinned as he felt the tell-tale squish of flesh, and the crunch of bone that said he had successfully cut off his opponents arm. His feet landed beside his head, and to his exasperation he found that he could no longer depend on his leg. He was tempted to just limp away and leave the man to bleed to death, but a strange, prophetic feeling told him that wouldn't be wise. Despite the fact that his opponent was now disadvantaged as well, he knew it wouldn't be long before exhaustion and blood loss would get to him.

He threw the dagger at a tree, embedding it there for later. He took his sword in both hands, preparing to launch a full-on attack, no more fancy techniques.

Derak jumped a little, not expecting to have anyone listening in on the conversation, regaining his composure quickly however he managed, "Hello there, my name is Derak Thunderhammer, I do not believe I have had the pleasure..." He said in a friendly voice and extending his hand.

"Nathifa, Akaelin's mate," Nathifa started to extend her hand too, then pulled it back and grabbed at her shoulder in pain. She looked with worried eyes back at the village where the pack leader was fighting the other rider. She knew that Akaelin wouldn't thank her for cutting in on his battle, but if he was injured any more she would.

Akaelin kept a careful and close watch on the dagger that the man had thrown into the tree. He knew that his opponent hadn't done it to be flashy or for dramatic effect. This person didn't seem like the type to resort to that kind of thing.

He couldn't let the man strike him again. There was no way he would be able to hold back a blow with just one arm. He didn't have that kind of strength. He could only hope to dodge his attacks until the man gave up and limped away.

Krigon felt the intense pain from his leg creep up his spine, tempting his mind to wander from the task at hand, but he gripped his sword and gritted his teeth, harvesting the adrenaline from his injury and forcing his brain into complete control. He swung a practiced shot at the man in front of him, but in his haze, he missed, cracking the ground instead.

He let out a roar of frustration that shook the trees around him, and with a moan his bad leg collapsed underneath him from the strain and blood loss, having now created quite the puddle around him.

'Dammit! No, no, no!' he cursed himself and his incompetency in his head. It was always a foolish mistake after a great victory that defeated him at the end of all of his lives, whether it was catching the flu or getting gangrene from a small cut, it was never honorable!

'Why, gods, why must this always happen to me?' he silently asked

He looked desperately around for something that could help him, but to his horror he saw that he had thrown his dagger too far, and he had no magic to speak of that could call it back. It was finally over...maybe he could find peace...if his opponent would only show a little mercy and do as he asked...

Krigon fell unconscious from exhaustion and blood loss, thinking of the face that he hadn't seen for over a thousand years...

"Are you ok madame?" Derak asked, a little worried, many people looked injured to him, but as far as he could tell all the injuries were mild, hers didn't appear to be, "Is there any way I can be of assistance?" Derak asked

"I'm not the one that's injured," Nathifa growled, looking back toward the village longingly. She gave in to what instinct told her to do and started running back towards it. Akaelin could complain about her interfering in his fight later, but right now she needed to make sure he was safe.

--------------------------------------------

"Damnit!" Quill swore, kicking a piece of rubble with enough force that it should have hurt her foot. "Jetta, are you sure you can't feel her energy anywhere in this world?"

"Not withing my range," Jetta said, unable to be anything but calm. "But you have a more direct conection"

"Fucking asshead!" Quill swore again. If neither her nor Jetta could sense her sister anywhere then it could only mean that she had been taken to another dimension or something similar.

((I got no sleep at my grandparent's this weekend so... I'm turing in lol, sorry all...))

"Wait!" Derak shouted after her but he had a feeling she hadn't heard him, "Where is she off to then? And what did she mean she wasn't hurt?" Derak said, he did look a little frightened right now, "I am really not used to being out of my element..." He mumbled almost to himself

Akaelin advanced to remove the mans head. If he didn't kill him now, the wolf knew he would regret it later. He was a wild animal, literally, and things like mercy weren't in his nature. However, he stumbled. His vision became both bright and fuzzy at the same time - a sure sign that he was about to pass out. Cursing under his breath, he grabbed his fallen limb and held it up to the spot where it had been cut. Gritting his teeth as the bone, muscles, tissues and flesh knitted itself back together he really wished he had practiced that skill more. Once it was reattatched, the limb felt a little awkward, as if it didn't belong to him. He tested it by rolling his shoulder, and sure enough, it was on. The feeling would pass. He looked back at the man, who appeared to be dead. No doubt he would have died from all the blood loss. Whatever. The vultures could have him. If he was alive, the group he had been after would be long gone by the time he would wake, and Akaelin could deal with him later.

Diadal had heard the screams and seen the smoke, but she hadn't been expecting the amount of destruction she came upon when she wandered over to the nearby village, whose forests' she had been pillaging lone travelers lately. Hoping that she would be able to forage some money in the wreckage, she was unprepared for the utter devastation that had befallen the once happy little town.

'No travelers around here anymore, better move on.' she thought to herself.

The thick, metallic scent of blood hung heavy in the air, and she pulled a thin, bright blue scarf her mother had made her over her mouth to protect her delicate lungs. She trudge through the small path, and was surprised yet again that day.

Before her was a man with the hair color of none other than her sworn enemies, fighting a massive warrior covered in blood, a lot of it obviously from others, but a lot of it dripping from his own leg.

In amazement, the mountain of a man seemed to collapse from his wound, but not before executing a backflip and slicing right through his opponents arm!

'Now they'll both die!' she thought with mixed amusement and greed at the the thought of raiding their pockets. 'Damn light haired bastard deserves it.'

The large warrior took one last swipe at the blonde man, and then fell, allowing a small groan of pain to escape. It almost seemed as if it was at frustration at himself instead of complaining of the tendon sliced in half, but she had no time to contemplate that as she watched in amazement the view before her.

'Vhat creature is this that can reattach what has been cut off?' she asked herself in fury. Would this unholy race of light-haired thieves stop at nothing to overcome others? Had he sold his soul, or perhaps become the servant to some demon that possessed such powers?

Grabbing her bow and arrow, she quickly fired in quick succession three arrows in the pathway of the victor.

"So...the Arwanians no longer cut out the spleen out of their victims to prove they're bloodtharst?" she asked him in a thick European accent.


((she's a little delusional ^-^ you can tell her to fuck off, I just need someone to save Krigon once Akaelin runs off, which he can do whenever...Diadal's not gonna stop him, scouts honor))

"Arwanians?" Akaelin mumbled sarcasticly under his breath, stopping as the arrows embedding into the ground in front of him. The name didn't ring a bell to him. Distracted, nothing really did at the moment. He was in no mood or condition to deal with this idiotic little bitch. Whatever. Little whore could do as she pleased. He flicked her off with his good hand and left her with the dead/dying man.

((*muse dying. Short post is short* o.0))

"That's right, you walk away!" she told him cockily, and then quickly snuck over to the one lying on the ground.

"Oh, well, you've seen some interesting times, haven't you?" she asked him, rolling her tongue over the R's. She removed the hood covering his face, as well as a scarf like her own, and was surprised to see a face that looked native to her own country. The nose was broad and the eyebrows were heavy, his jaw was square and strong.

"You remind me of a few of my boyfriends..." she chuckled to herself, and felt his neck for a pulse. To her immense surprise, he was still alive, as slow as his heat beat was. Knowing full well there was no way she'd be able to lift him, she did her best to clean his wound there in the clearing, and wrapping it quickly.

She was extremely disappointed to find no money in his pockets.

((Diadal: No monies in his pocketsies?! D8

XD Gollum ness.))

((yeah, I've decided to make her a complete hypocrite! she complains about the Arwenians, (which, by the way, is a name I pulled completely out of my ass ^-^) but then she steals everything she sees! fun, huh? Her and Hel have got to get together, I'll tell ya somethin...hahaha, I have fun...))

((Yes, but don't forget that Hel's a blonde. >.<))

((whatever, I'm kinda gonna let this one be a little insane and confusing. Just have Hel say something really bitchy and Diadal will just be like 'That's so mean! I like you!


I do that a lot myself...))

((That'll work. Okay, I'm done spamming the thread with OOCness.))

Nathifa arrived at the village just in time to see the exchange between Akaelin and Diadel. "Count your lucky stars that I'm letting you walk away," she growled at the girl that had shot arrows at her mate. She fell into step beside Akaelin as he was walking away. "Do you need any help?" She asked. "You must have lost a lot of blood."

Akaelin couldn't help but remember Nathifas story about her night with Ra, Apep and Runi. "I'm fine," he replied stiffly, flexing the fingers of his right hand as feeling slowly started to come back into that arm. He wanted to repeat her and say that it wasn't important, but he held back. He really wasn't in the mood at the moment. Actually, he wasn't really in the mood for anything. If Nathifa could brush of her injuries like they were nothing, then so could he.

"Don't play it down, I was a defensive type so I had to reattach limbs a lot," Nathifa said. She thought that Akaelin might still be a little bitter about her not telling him how badly she had been hurt the previous night. But her and Runi had taken advantage of the time difference in the oasis to spend a week healing. Her comment also made herself wonder - was Akaelin an offensive or defensive type? She had never thought of it before.

"I'm not playing anything down," Akaelin mumbled. "I said I was fine and I am." His vision was a bit blurred and his head felt fuzzy. His shoulder was throbbing like crazy, but other than that, he was fine. He remembered vaguely about Jetta mentioning something about offensive and defensive types, but that had been so long ago that he couldn't recall the details.