Empires of Ashes Reboot

"I am sure you will."

"Anyway... I believe we have gone over everything, for now. I'll send out my agents, you put the word out with the immortals."

"Indeed... I'll send those who's T'sebi were... *He pauses, searching for a word that does not wrench his gut.* 'Damaged.'"

*he raises an eyebrow*
"Damaged?"

"A poor choice in dracian...?" His jaw works for a moment, without speaking. "I do not know the word you would use. In kelthrovi it would be dibita... Broken apart, reduced?"

"Disbanded"

"I see. I will remember that one."

As promised. The immortal Hakon approaches the Cymrai camp. Striding up to the sentry.

The Sentry looks to his counterpart and approaches Hakon “You are the pit fighter?”

"I am the one your prince challenged."

Trajan: indeed...anyway if there's nothing else, I won't keep you.

The sentry nods and turns to his side, using his spear to point into the camp
“He is expecting you, the arena is in the middle of the camp, follow the cheering”

Ket: Indeed. No doubt there is another disaster waiting for me elsewhere."

Hakon nods, and starts walking that way.

trajan chuckles
"Probably"

Soon enough he finds a crowd of jeering soldiers, many of whom recognise him and open up a path to the hastily constructed fence that borders the arena. Inside Hakon immediately sees Mordred fighting an older warrior, both are topless and armed with blunted swords, the older warrior is greying and has a suitably large moustache and beard combination to show off his age. His chest is riddled with scar tissue, standing in stark contrast to Mordred’s near impeccable form. Both men have suprisingly white hair which spiked up, the pair likely having washed it in a mix of clay and water to ‘dye’ it.

Hakon stands in the gap they made for him, and watches the fight.

Ket stands, and replaces his veil and helm. "What is the dracian expression? Let there be no rest for the wicked?"

Trajan: close enough

He laughs, and leaves.

as he leaves, Ket spots LI sat outside a nearby tent. she is sat on a rock, a gigantic sword resembling a 7 foot long spatha on her lap, as she appears to be sharpening it, her helmet covering her face, and the dragonskin cloak she now owns draped over her shoulders

He starts walking back towards the immortal's camp, then stops, seems to think, and turns, walking towards Li instead.

she doesn't notice him approaching, rather focussed on her blade

he comes to a stop a respectful metre or so away, just off the track. "This is not a bad time, i hope?"

she looks up at him
"It is not"

"Good... Good... I wanted to... more formally apologize for my behavior."

The older warrior probed Mordred’s defence carefully, obviously knowing something that Hakon didn’t. In his current position Hakon could see atleast 5 ways to send the young prince sprawling to the ground. It looked like the warrior does too as he darts forward, seemingly having spotted a gap in mordred’s defensive posture. In an instant the prince comes to life, an ancient unintelligle curse crosses his lips as he dances past the warrior and slashes at his gut. The crowd roared into life as the men traded blows, Mordred moved aggressively but not without reason. Hakon can see the swordsman coming to life with every movement, Mordred fought like a lion, his every blow an unstoppable juggernaut of a movement. His opponent forced onto the defensive dodging and parryinglike a true duelist, but Hakon could see through the fight, Mordred was toying with the man, his posture gave away the truth of his intentions. And soon enough Hakon saw the end coming, Mordred let up on his assault and backed away, taunting his opponent, daring him to try and land a blow. The older warrior obliged his prince and had barely swung before Mordred came at him again and brought the man crashing to the ground.

Hakon could see why the boy was cocky, his skill at arms was obvious, and his energy limitless. But the boy is easily a swordsman first, reliant on speed and knowledge to win.

she looks at him quietly for a few moments, her helmet masking her expression.
"...Thankyou"

OOC: I need to learn to proofread my shit

OOC: i didn't see the first one, so dont matter much to me eh?

Ket: "If there should ever be something i can do..."

Hakon watches, apparently unmoved, and waits for the prince to address his presence.

The two men end up laughing as mordred helps his opponent up, they exchange something in Cymraic and Mordred turns to Hakon. A wide smile quickly forming

“Hakon! Come come in!”
The prince, clearly happy to see Hakon gestures for the man to duck under the fence and join him

The movement is somewhat awkward for the large man. His spear and large shield appearing a hindrance, but he manages it. "Prince... Mordred... You're not bad with a blade."

The prince bows his head in thanks “Thank you, your reputation as Immortal precedes you”

"Indeed... Well. You wish combat?"

“Aye, I do. Rules are simple, if we use swords you simply must bring your opponent down and have him yield. If we fight without, it is until one of us gives up. Winner gets beer, loser has to pay. Simple no?”
The boys accent is surprisingly heavy within his own camp, thought the tone is oddly friendly considering the history of their peoples

"Fists are more to my liking."

“I expected as much, no armour”
He turns and walks over to the rim, depositing his sword into a bucket turning to face Hakon

Hakon buries his spear in the ground, and leans his shield against it. His armour comes off quickly, with well practiced ease. First, the heavy breastplate, bracers, gauntlets and greaves. Then comes vest, fastened at the front with silk lace, which appears stiff, and sewn with a grid pattern. The silk padding underneath after that. The last thing to go, is his helmet and veil. He kneels down, and conceals his face with hunched shoulders, taking it off, then replacing it with a square of cloth, folded and wrapped around his head and face.

He stands, and walks towards mordred, stripped to the waist, wearing silk trousers that are somewhat baggy, to just below the knee, then bound to his calf with a silk tie. Across his chest, there are a dozen or more tattoos in the thengul style, interlocking spiral patterns, images of bears and wolves.

“You do not show your face?”
Mordred is similarly dressed, wearing dark but colourful cloth trousers with a kind of puttee thing around his ankles, with simple leather shoes. His upper chest and arms are dominated by blue spirals and ritualistic swirls, while his back has an actual tattoo in the shape of a dragon, which bares striking resemblance to his own banner. And finally a golden torque is wrapped around his neck.

For reference:

Spoiler:

"No. I do not."

“Are you ready?”
The prince turns slightly and raises his fists, obviously ready to figt

Hakon cracks his spine left, then right. "Indeed."

The prince rolls his shoulders and steps forward, determined not to make the forst move. The crowd have gone quiet, waiting to see what happens

Hakon stands side on, his left hand tucked to his chest, with his right held out. Both balled into fists. His kholled eyes hold mordred's, icy blue, and hard.

Mordred watches Hakon, studying his form and looking for weaknesses, working out which leg he’s most reliant on

He's heavy on his front leg, a very reactive style, and his stance leaves his head very exposed.

Mordred takes a few cautious steps forward, obviously weary. If Hakon doesn’t react, Mordred draws closer and throws a single left handed jab toward Hakon’s head, intending to bait a reaction and duck beneath whatever comes his way. In much the same wat as he did with the cymriac

Hakon waits until mordred punches, then sways out of the way of the punch, throwing a right jab to the gut.

The prince twists and brings his right hand down to strike a nerve in Hakon’s own arm before returning to his original stance

Hakon steps forwards again, continuing to press mordred, throwing a right hook at his head.

Mordred steps under it, turning as he does so and kicking the inside of Hakon’s right knee before again assuming the same stance. Hakon sees that Mordred’s right leg bears most of his weight, with Mordred relying on it to get out of harms way*

As mordred kicks hakon's knee, he bends the leg to lessen the impact, and launches himself forwards off his left leg, his shoulder connecting with the still turning mordred.

He catches the prince and throws the man off balance and onto the floor, immediately the man rolls and stands hopefully fast enough to escape whatever hakon does next