#Shonkhor Angura stories

[solitarywriterblog]

[FFXIV] Under the Desert Sun II

Sasaraji had confidently led the way over to the Pits beneath the Gladiators’ Guild.  The Coliseum ring had it’s own fight under way but the Lalafell had steer them away towards one of the rougher corners.  K’yiala had accompanied the pair, insisting that she’d be far safer with them; that the merchant wouldn’t come back if she was with them.  Sasaraji had agreed and in the end Athala had conceded to allow her to tag along.

“If you want the best help, why aren’t we looking at the Coliseum?” K’yiala wondered.

Sasaraji spoken over his shoulder, just loud enough for them to hear without his voice carrying.  “Because the Coliseum is a peacock display.  Arena fighters that live for their reputations within the city’s competitions.  But if you want real fighters, combatants who’ve seen blood and fight with fire in their eyes, the Pits is the best place.” he explained, indicating the dimly lit sunken ring off to the left with a sizable crowd rallying around it.

In the Pit a Xaela with a greatsword was holding his ground against an axe wielding Roegadyn, a scimitar and shield Miqo’te, and a Duskwight lancer.  The Elezen and Miqo’te were attempting a pincer strategy while the Roegadyn took the brunt of the assault.  All four combatants were bleeding profusely and it was clearly from the tempo of the fight that the battle had been going on for several minutes, long by the usual Coliseum standards, save for the headliner matches that drew the large crowds.  Towards the back wall above the Pit fight, a table had been thrown together from a plank and two barrels where gil and collateral was being tossed around with a casualness reserved for the darkest alleyway dice games.

The Xaela and Roegadyn met weapons again before the Au Ra combatant peeled his swing through his parry, brought the blade back around his head pointed towards the dirt as he blocked the scimitar strike with it by a shift in his footing.  The maneuver simultaneously put him out of reach of the Elezen’s lance, rendering the thrust pointless.  “They call him, I hope I’m pronouncing this correctly, Dorēku.  It’s Doman vernacular I believe.  In any case, these are no slouches.  The Roegadyn is Titus from the Lominsan ship Dauntless.  Has an 80% win rate in the Pits as far as I know.  The Elezen is a former Twin Adder, dishonorable discharge from active service for his insubordination; if the rumors are accurate.  And the Miqo’te is K’takha Tia, one of the Hipparion tribes best hunters.  Got bored of being a Nunh and left or so I heard.” Sasaraji explained, a hand coming to his chin as he considered the fight and it’s possibilities; as if it were a chess game.

Titus took a strong swing forward.  Dorēku absolutely overpowered K’takha, pushing backwards with his quads and forcing the Miqo’te into the wall.  Dorēku stepped forward again, the winded Sunseeker no longer pinned to the wall dropping to his knees; the Au Ra brought the blade around to block the follow up strike from Titus.  The sword caught most of the axe but the pullback made a shallow cut along the upper arm as it did so.  He emitted a hiss of discomfort but little more, lunging forward with his shoulder pushing Titus back off his balance a bit.  The lancer attempted another thrust.  This one landed a gash along the upper thigh rather than a true piercing, but to his misfortune Dorēku pulled his blade around and locked it such that the Elezen couldn’t simply pull his weapon back.  They grunted as the struggle to interlock, and untangle respectively, the weapons ensued.  The move became a clear ploy as the Au Ra reared his head back and headbutted his opponent.  The Elezen wavered, the grip on his weapon weak before he toppled to the ground unconscious from the force of the hit.  K’takha now recovered lunged forward abandoning his weapons in order to tackle Dorēku from behind his knees.  The Au Ra managed to turn just enough that K’takha came from the side rather than the back.  Dorēku waivered but remained standing before bringing the swords pommel crashing into the space between K’takha’s shoulder blades.  The Miqo’te joined the Elezen on the Pit floor.

Down to Titus and Dorēku, the two took a moment sizing each other up again; the cheers and curses from the spectators now reaching a pinnacle as they gave their approval for the brawl.  Both shifted their grips, Dorēku adding a duelist flailing twirl, as the circled the arena.  Titus made the first move, bounding across the distance between them in a blink bringing his axe in a large spinning slash that -weapon aside - would not have been out of place on the ballroom floor of a formal banquet.  The Au Ra barely got his blade around the counter the strike, before the Roegadyn hooked the lower sweep behind the blade around Dorēku’s sword before ripping and throwing both their weapons to the side; turning the duel into a fist fight.  Dorēku brought his arms up just over his waist in a very relaxed and seemingly unprotected stance.  Titus brought the elbow up first, bashing it into the jawline, sending Dorēku reeling back into the wall.  Titus grinned, taking a step back and switching from a left handed stance to a right handed position.  The Au Ra recovered, glancing to the side and spitting on the ground, some blood mixed with the saliva.  He waited for a moment and the stutter a scuffing step, kicking up the dirt hit enough to be an irritant but not an honorless tactic.  He followed up by rushing in as Titus’s arms came up to defend his face, slipping underneath and landing a firm drive into the stomach.  He moved into the combination, feinting a left hook before following in with a right uppercut.  Titus staggered back with arms spinning out of their defensive posture for balance.  Dorēku stepped in and delivered another powerful left jab into a right cross.  A few more moments and Titus dropped to his knees, his eyes unfocused.  The Au Ra took a step closer judging whether or not to strike the Roegadyn again.  Satisfied with the semi-conscious display, he narrowed his eyes and spat again on the ground between them before giving the hulking man a firm push down into the dirt before moving to exit the Pit.

Sasaraji and the others waited for the rabid mass to disperse a bit before the Lalafell approached the gladiator.  Dorēku looked the trio over before querying the lot with solely his gaze, both haughty yet apprehensive.

“Eorzean?” Sasaraji asked simply.

“Broken.” Dorēku replied non-committally.

“Watashi no Doman o yurushitekudasai.” Sasaraji replied before continuing at a head nod from the Au Ra.  “Watashi no shitsumon ni iku mae ni, anata no namae wa nanidesu ka? Tashikani karera ga shiyō suru pitto no taitorude wa arimasen: Dorēku?”

“Karera wa, uroko no tame ni watashi o doragon to yobimasu. Anata wa watashi o Tokugawa Akira to yobu kamo shiremasen.” he replied.

Sasaraji bowed his head to the warrior.  “Aete ureshī yo. Watashinonamaeha Sasaraji Seserajidesu. Jinshin baibai no mondai ni tsuite nanika tasuke o motomete imasu. Tasukete kuremasu ka?”

Tokugawa took several minutes thinking carefully.  “Hai.” he replied nodding.

“Anata wa eozēn de karera ni hanasu tame ni watashi o yurushimasu.” Sasaraji turned back to Athala and K’yiala.  “This is Akira Tokugawa.  And he has agreed to aid us.”

@latrouvaillefc

[ffxivaltstars]

#22: Monster

"Papa!"

It was almost funny how quickly Rhet had adapted to the role of father. With Malqan nearing the age of three, he was still surprising Rhet and Lynea with new things on a fairly regular basis. This time was no different.

"What is it, Mal?" Rhet asked, sitting on the edge of his son's bed and smoothing the child's fine, soft hair back from his face. "Is something wrong?"

"Papa, a monster!" Mal whimpered and pointed toward the ajar door to the closet. He huddled down further beneath the covers but didn't stop pointing.

"A monster?" Rhet rose from the bed and crossed the room to the closet. He pushed the door open and looked inside, carefully pushing aside the clothes hanging from the bar and making sure the neatly organized shelves were clearly visible from the bed. "There's no monster in here, Mal," he assured, pulling the door firmly closed before returning to the boy's side.

Mal squeaked and dragged the covers over his head. "It moved!" he exclaimed, his voice muffled. "Now it's under the bed."

Obligingly Rhet slid to the floor on his hands and knees to peer beneath the bedframe. All that greeted him were a few fluffs of dust, and the fleece-covered wooden body of one of Malqan's beloved sheep toys. "Ah, there's no monster at all," he said cheerfully. "It's just No." Somehow, with a logic known only to a two-year-old, Mal had decided upon naming his favorite of the toys 'No'.

"No!" Mal squealed, tearing the blankets off and practically launching himself from the mattress and into his father's arms. Rhet was not his target, however - the small wooden sheep was. Mal wrapped it up in his pudgy little arms and hugged it tightly. "You saved No from the monster! Papa, my hero."

As it did so often when he was around his beautiful child, Rhet felt his heart melt. "I'm not a hero, Mal. But how about I tell you a story about a hero? His name was Malqan, and he was the strongest and bravest Xaela the Shonkhor tribe ever knew."

"That's my name," Mal said, his piping voice a mix of swelled pride and childish confusion.

"Yes, it is," Rhet agreed with a nod. He stroked Mal's hair again and made sure that the little boy was tucked securely into bed with the rest of his herd of miniature sheep. "But it's also the name of my father - your grandfather. He was the khan. That means the leader of our tribe." Rhet smiled softly, his heart squeezing in the dull ache that came from remembering his family. But despite the long-existing hurt, there was also a deep love he held for them, and it was only right that Mal should know about the people he'd lost before he'd ever been born. Though for now toned down to an appropriate level for a toddler's bedtime story.

"There was one time when the tribe was camped at our winter spot, waiting for Mama's tribe the Angura to join us, when a wild matamata appeared out of nowhere and attacked! The tribes warriors all rallied to fight it, but it was Malqan who defeated it. He distracted it by forming a ring of fire all around it, which kept it right where it was so it couldn't attack anyone else. And then when it lunged to bite Malqan, he threw a spear directly into its open mouth."

Rhet mimed the actions as he spoke them, forming a circle with his hands and then pulling one back as if to throw a javelin. "The matamata bit down on the spear and shattered the haft. The spike, though - the spike went right up through the roof of its mouth and pierced straight through the monster's head. Malqan had managed to defeat it and protect his tribe from more than just a few minor injuries. He was truly a great warrior and leader."

Mal smiled a sleepy smile and hugged No closer. "I'll be a great warrior one day, too."

"I know you will, Mal," Rhet agreed. He leaned over to brush a kiss to Malqan's forehead before getting up to creep quietly out of the room.