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worrentigre · 6 years

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Rhuli’a’s Trial pt.6 Conviction (RP Scene)

*Rhuli’a has survived this grueling trial, but he still not finished yet. He may be near the end, but this will be his toughest challenge yet. With already being battered and tired, this will require every ounce of his will to overcome. Will his dream finally be realized? He will soon find out as he enters the final area, approaching a figure in the darkness.*

"Congratulations on making it this far," A familiar voice comes from the shadowy figure. "Rhuli'a Kanjun. He who wishes to be a Fist of Rhalgr. However..." The ambient lighting in the room flickers a bit, and suddenly a burst of aether can be felt coming from the figure. The light brightens slightly, and the figure turns out to be Worren Tigre himself.

He paces to the side while speaking. "Do you know what you are getting yourself into?" Another burst, and another. Two, three. "The path of the Fist is one to obtain physical, mental, and spiritual perfection. To be one with Rhalgr and all that he stands for." Four. "It is much greater than being a prize fighter. You may be a champion. And then what?" Five. Six. "Great power requires the utmost control and responsibility to use it properly, and the mental facilities to command it." Seven. This burst of aether is a lot stronger than the previous six. "You came to me seeking the means to gain absolute power, that the strong govern the weak. To be strong and be a champion of Ala Mhigo. Know this, that absolute power corrupts the mind. Just ask your mad king." Eight!

This final burst came out with an air of finality. "Gylbarde did not succeed in the Autumn war on his own martial prowess. He possessed the mind necessary to secure the victory. We are not just spiritual warriors. We are not barbarians. We are war priests. The second campaign was lost due to hubris in the search for power."

Worren then stops pacing, as his full power flows all around him, and the room is bright. "You still have one last test, Furious One." He puts his fists up to fight, his expression and demeanor showing that he means no mercy, the menace oozing from him. "Come show me your conviction." Rhuli'a's posture didn't change throughout the whole ordeal. Studying every small thing about his master, his current opponent, who stood before him. Lessons of the past and lectures of today wrapped themselves around his sensitive ears, studying intently as to how the aether gathered around the dark-skinned Highlander.

However, at the mention of the Mad King, and a jab at his rage, Rhuli'a balked. That trait was rising, threatening to overtake his entire being. His eyes narrowed, his skin tightened, a light sweat was clinging to his skin.

And ever so, did the sense of red, of blood, of absolute conviction and desperation continued to rise.

((https://youtu.be/GUVGSri3YQU <----Fight BGM))

Breaking his stance, Rhuli'a clenched his fists, grit his teeth and concentrated. From his chest, this sensation flew, surrounding every ilm of his body. Sparks of power and aether flared up, twice in total throughout him. He knew it wasn't a fair contest. His body and mind was screaming that he would be slain if he took a step forward.

So Rhuli'a sprinted.

Taking a leap 3 yalms from his master, his newest opponent, and feinting a leaping kick, instead falling to the ground in a sweep at his legs instead. Every tactic, every way he had fought before was running through his mind.(edited) He had to purposefully mislead his master with his intent, to even stand a chance.

With all of the time Worren has been observing and appraising Rhuli'a, he knew full well that the man valued hand to hand singles combat and technique. Watching and reading opponents, figuring out weaknesses. With this in mind, he fully expected a feint, seeing that opening with a lunging attack like that would leave Rhuli'a too open, something he knows he would not risk early on. Still, instead of dodging or blocking, he uses his chakra to harden his flesh like stone, as well as put up a thin aethyreal barrier to help him defend whatever may come, and to be able to retaliate as well.

Worren never took his eyes off of his opponent, and while bracing his body for the jump kick, he saw the sweep coming instead. He hops over the sweeping leg before sliding forward a step push his empowered right fist out waist high. Where Rhuli'a as tall as him and standing, the fist would hit his stomach. But, since he is shorter and recovering from a crouching sweep, the fist would likely hit him in the head if it lands. Rhuli'a's strike went wide, throwing him off-balance, though, to his favor.

Sprawling on the floor, completely on his back, Worren's fist puffed at the air above him, urging a fresh chorus of survival instincts screaming at him to run, to use his feet like never before.

Coiling the limbs in question, Rhuli'a sprang towards the man! Leaping off the ground to try and smash both feet square into the Hyur's chest. Whether or not his strength would be able to overcome the defenses the man had erected, was one thing, but it was better than laying prone in front of someone who could potentially cave in his chest with a stomp.

One of Worren's main strengths in combat is his idea of always learning from every fight. Always watching, and emulating certain aspects of opponents into his own arsenal. His very first chakra was unlocked while fighting to survive against an onslaught of golems in the old Nymian ruins. And unfortunately for Rhuli'a, this is an aspect he greatly emulates into his already defensive style. The prospect's feet hitting Worren's chest would be like hitting a stone wall, what with his aether barrier, chainmail linked under his cyclas, and his flesh hardened to act like stone.

He doesn't stop coming, and continues moving forward. His right arm comes up high in the air and then curves downward. With a mighty roar, his aether would move to his fist, leaving a faint purple trail in it's wake as the fist come crashing down with a great might. It is unseen to the naked eye, but if one were to sense aether, they would see it moving around Worren's body, concentrating on certain parts at will as he moves, augmenting each and every movement in some way for maximum efficiency. This would include the periodic erection of his barriers. Rhuli'a's feet did not seem to make the Hyur budge at all. Springboarding off of him, he deftly returned to his feet, wisps of lightning beginning to travel over his body. They elicited both shocks of pain and pleasure as they flowed through his body, causing his anger to resurface and multiply. Within his breast? Desire. Upon his face? Defiance.

Both guided his left fist as he swung up in a levin-wreathed uppercut. With a roar, he sprung up, putting his full weight behind the blow and trying to overpower his master.

Of course, he didn't.

Arm shooting back down from the terrible force brought against it, the Miqo'te yelped, never before facing such an unwavering defense. Rivers of pain were going through his arm, as though the limb would burst apart if he moved it. Gritting his teeth, Rhuli'a dashed backward, stomping a heel into the stone to throw up a spray of debris that would mask further actions for only a moment.

Fading back, he waited for Worren to come to him.

Worren almost smirked at Rhuli'a's display. Almost. He slowly stalks forward two steps, but then suddenly stops. In an instant, his movements, intent, and aether all shift as he remains in place. He takes on a wide stance with his right side forward and right arm out, similar to that of a ninja. However, his left hand is behind his back. With his right palm facing upwards, he tilts his body back and raises his right foot, while his hand simultaniously closes into a fist and pulls up. And then he stamps that same foot down HARD.

This all happens in less than a second, with his left hand gripping an earth core hidden on his belt under his cyclas behind his back. It's power strengthens his attunement to the earth, allowing him some measure of control over aether with earth elemental properties. And so, his right hand is snatching up and ripping away the dusty veil the prospect has created, dissipating the cover he hid inside. Worren's aether then shifts to his foot as it comes down. This is a move he has done many times before; the stomp sents a purplish shockwave of unauspected aether along the ground at high velocity in Rhuli'a's direction. This wave is concussive in nature, rather than energy, with the intent of bowling him over, if now out right knocking him out. Rhuli'a's eyes were narrowed as Worren adopted a stance so unfamiliar to him. However, they soon widened in shock as the blast of his master's strength knocked him off his feet and sent him skidding backward, head ringing and teeth chittering. The noise of the action alone had his sensitive ears ringing, and as he stumbled to his feet, head in hands, he realized he might need to fight with some sort of hearing protection in the future.

Distracted as he was in the future, he suddenly snapped back to the now.

Rushing toward's Worren again, Rhuli'a was intent on finding out the patterns of his opponent's attacks. With such a stalwart defense, the only way to land a telling blow would be to strike with a counter-attack. Something that would rattle the skull. All he had to do was find a rhythm and interrupt it.

Though, this was easier said than done.

Dashing within the taller monk's reach, Rhuli'a acted aggressively, but safe, landing only small strikes here and there while keeping his guard up at all times. Mentally counting how many the Hyur would take before reacting.

Coiling up like a viper.

Worren meets him head on. Aggressive, just like he likes it. He switches back to his boxing stance, keeping his fists by his chin while moving in. He answers each of Rhuli'a's strikes with his own. Though, while the Miqo'te is testing the waters, the Hyur is using his punches to try and crush the smaller man. His punches were hard, all of them aiming at Rhuli'a's face, trying to break through his blocking arms if he has to.

All the while, the wheels in his head are turning. "He's too smart to match me blow for blow. He has something up his sleeve," He thinks to himself, before switching up to throwing his non dominant hand, the left, low to bury the fist into his stomach and liver, and incapacitate him. That was the plan, anyway. A calculated risk, as he is opening his face to counter attack. Rhuli'a was able to block the worst of the blows. Always retreating into a more solid defense as Worren harried him, dodging back to not meet the full force of the blows. Though his forearms shook with every strike, the Keeper was resolute, his flashing eyes staring daggers and hate at his opponent.

Again and again, the peppering came, Rhuli'a only offering quick ducking kicks to slip under the blows the Hyur would throw at him. And then fortune shone!

Leaping at the opportunity, Rhuli'a swung to the side, sidestepping far to the left and throwing an open palm, fingers extended and rigorous, directly towards the side of the man's neck! Lightning laced the tips, and the force would be akin to striking him with a flat mattock, compressed all within a thin line no wider than half an ilm no longer than four.

Sparks flew and Worren was sent reeling back several steps. With his barrier down, he actually felt that. His flesh were still hard like stone, but it hurt. Good. This is what he wanted. Immediately his defenses shoot back up. Worren shakes his head a few times before glancing over his shoulder, as the blow caused him to turn. The look in his eyes were unreadable, but that quickly changed when he pulls the earth core from behind him. The unreadable look on his face turns into one of mirth as he stands up straight and clasps both hands around the crystal to his chest.

Very quickly the aether barrier around him emits a faint yellow glow, and dirt, dust, and loose rocks laid around the temple from years of disuse raise up and begin to swirl around him. They move in closer and closer until they encase him into a stone cocoon, looking not unlike a stone coffin for a mummy. "Come and get me," He taunts. Rhuli'a followed through as the Hyur stumbled back several paces, dashing after to try and strike a finishing blow. Smelling blood, figuratively perhaps, he stopped mid-rush as he saw his master withdraw something from his back.

A contorted face of confusion soon turned to one of fury.

"Feckless parlour tricks will not avail you, master!"

Completely unfamiliar with how Worren was actually using the object, Rhuli'a sped forward, gracefully springing atop the man and striking at the head of this monstrosity, his levin-encased limbs taking on a softer nature, wind becoming more apparent than the lightning. Encased in stone as Worren was, the sight recalled memories of Salt Dharas commonly found in the Lochs. The beasts were too slow to handle hit and run strikes and slowly, but surely would crumble after enough pinpoint blows.

Would Worren be the same?

The stone cocoon was reinforced by Worren's aether, and sparking flashes seemed to burst with each of Rhuli'a's strikes. He used this same test with Kodaro; it would take a lot to undo this.

Worren begins to speak again while inside, "You can hit harder than that, can't you? You won't get anywhere under-utilizing your power like that. Use it, feel it, give it all to me. Or you will fail." He then pauses before adding, "What would your mother think, hitting this weak?" He purposefully pokes at him, urging him to push himself to the absolute limit. If his pride won't take him, then maybe his anger will. A grunt of frustration rose within Rhuli'a's throat at Worren's taunts.

Caution soon gave way to a burning need to see this armor shattered across the stone. To strike down the encased monk utterly and have that awesome, cloying emotion of victory wash over him if only for the briefest of moments. Winning was everything, he could see it, stricken across his future like an oil painting.

And, so he began to strike with reckless abandon, forgoing any sense of defense or caution. Only impulses.

Starting with a flurry of jabs to begin his rhythm, to once again urge levin to wrap around his limbs, Rhuli'a's strikes were almost like a dance, akin to a leaf being blown through a storm. Punctuating the combo with a high kick, the Keeper snapped it down, his heel coming down with a terrible force before a quick windmill of low kicks were brought to bear against the cocoon next. Rising with a vicious hook, electricity flying this way and that, Rhuli'a spun, following through with the force by spinning around and leaping up into an uppercut!

The room flashes with each strike, the ambient light still playing off of Worren's own power. Sparks fly and the attacks are loud. But still, the stone holds tight. "Focus!" He shouts to Rhuli’a from inside the stone cocoon. He holds it as long as he can, but the power of his core is starting to wane. The yellowish earthen aura around the stones begins to slowly flutter about. Sensing weakness, Rhuli'a pulled back his left fist. Among his knuckles were scars of the past, as well as abrasions of the present. Bearing all his anger and hatred for this trial, for his master and for more that nestled within his bosom, Rhuli'a brought it squarely against Worren's chest.

Yelling as loudly as he could all the while. There is a loud crash and bright flash, and a small crack could be seen formed in the middle of the stone cocoon. The aether around it starts whisping around and ebbing away, showing that it is weakening. However, from within the crack there's a small glow, that grows brighter as the crack enlarges. Then all at once there's a large burst, and a large concussive force of aether explodes all around, blowing chunks of rock and aether everywhere with enough force to knock anything within five fulms away.

When the dust settles, Worren stands there with his arms raised outward, with a now depleted and clear crystal in his right hand that he unceremoniously drops to the ground. "Nicely done. Now you know 'somewhat' what it's like to go the distance and push your powers to it's limit. However, there's still the matter of control..." He places his hands behind his back disarmingly and stands straight, as if about to go into another one of his lectures. Rhuli'a found himself flat upon his back, blinking and rubbing away the dust that had gotten in his eyes. Scrabbling to his feet, he paused, waiting to see what Worren would do.

While he didn't drop his guard, he made no move to attack. Worren simply stands there, watching Rhuli'a, studying his action. This went on for some time; the silent standoff. He stares directly into Rhuli'a's eyes, trying to discern their intent. When he feels he will no longer be blindly attacked out of anger, his entire demeanor suddenly shift, and the stern look on his face softens to a simple blank face. His hands come from behind his back, and there is a second earth elemental crystal in his hand. A backup, for just in case. He does not outwardly show it, but he is proud and relieved that he did not have to use it. Instead, he tosses it with an underhand motion to Rhuli'a. "Catch. Hold on to that."

Rhuli'a caught the crystal, studying it before soon coming to the realization it was the selfsame thing Worren had utilized.

"Why should I? Is there ought else I need to do?" Worren begins to walk away in a now open doorway. When did it open? Most likely while they were busy. He starts closing his gates one by one, as evidenced by the ambient light in the room getting more and more dim, until it's back to it's previous illumination. "It'll be important for your first official lesson. You'll see when the time comes." He calls this over his shoulder, but does not stop walking. Once he's in the doorway, he disappears into the shadows. "Wh-?"

Rhuli'a followed, trying to catch up after the Hyur. With a leap, he passed the threshold daringly, almost recklessly.

Where would he end up? In the hallway he'd find nothing but a pathway to back outside. A light at the end of the tunnel, that shows a silhouette of a chest sitting next to the wall halfway down the hall. Was this it?

Rhuli'a gingerly stepped towards the chest, looking to the light once more before going back to the trove.

Kneeling, he threw it open, peering inside at the contents... Inside the chest there is a uniform top. It is neatly folded with the shoulder pauldrons resting on top. It's color is red, like the other treasures that were found. That's all there was to it. No traps. No tricks. No drawing. Just the chest, and the light at the end of the tunnel. Taking it, Rhuli'a narrowed his eyes. The light at the end was much too bright for his tastes.

Folding his newfound cyclas over his arm, he nonetheless strode out of the temple. As reluctant as he was to leave the shadows, his chest swelled with a pride that threatened to burst.

@the-original-rel @moralistcyclops@syelirakaisuri@thornedblossom @flamesonhammersmith@crooked-tarot-rp@astralagency @valentinoix@interdimensionalpeacekeeping@florihilda @dynamitecowboy@chiyohoshi@thetaleofoldmanmaruud @supermeganick@grandmastream@jancisstuff @berrodarmstrong @nhara-tia @cfs-melkire

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