Recently she had found herself spending more and more time within the dojo of the Silent Fist Order, watching younger students training with the other adepts. Her sensei, Makoto, had asked if she could perhaps take over the training of another adept’s student for a few days and she was still considering the request – the last thing she wanted was to be tied to another person again.
She was no teacher, and she knew that.
A large Barbarian man entered the dojo, his walk silent and slow. He was quite tall, even for a Northman, with sandy brown hair that framed his square jaw. Dark eyes stared out from the barely visible woad that streaked across his deeply tanned face, full of a quiet calm and obvious thirst for knowledge.
Makoto motioned to the student, and the petite Teir`Dal woman watched the man walk towards them. After a few quiet words, he began the basic katas the dojo taught to their newer students, his large form executing each maneuver with a grace few saw within the Northmen.
She had seen that kind of grace before…
The first count of six quickly proved to be incorrect.
A Teir`Dal woman clad only in crude leathers had taken up a defensive stance within the quickly growing circle of guards about her. The faces of the Lucanic initiates looked back at her, pressing closer in an attempt to crowd her into a stand still. Soon over powered, the woman was subdued and a sword run through her belly before they tossed her body to the side of the road.
Unblinking eyes stared up at the treetops, watching the gentle wind as her life essence slipped away from her. The feral animals did not feast upon her slowly cooling body, in fact they went to great lengths to avoided it, traveling around it by at least half a mile or more.
Hours passed and still the unblinking eyes stared upward, their violet tints still quiet vivid and alive if but somewhat distant. Finally, she sighed, forcing herself to breath again as she slowly sat up.
To her surprise, she found herself staring face to face with a very large Northman, his bright woad dancing across one side of his face and neck, dark eyes wide in surprise as what he thought was a dead body came to life once more.
Caught off-guard, the Teir’Dal easily pushed him aside, kicking her body into a standing position in one smooth motion before dropping into a defensive stance. The Barbarian, though surprised, remained quiet calm, his eyes watching the woman closely as he stood up to tower over her slight form; his body was tense, muscles ready to move if provoked, though he made no move beyond standing.
With a silent curse for her lack of attention before rising, the woman suddenly sprinted forward, drawing her hands upward before her body as she leapt at the Northman. As her hands began to slam downward towards his sternum, the tall man simple turned his shoulders and gracefully slipped sideways, causing her to fall past him with a rolling twist as she tried to keep sight of him. Expecting retaliation, Shade dropped down lower to the ground, crouching deeply to avoid any attack from the Barbarian.
The Barbarian had not moved any further than the few steps he took to avoid her attack, still in his relaxed and calm stance as if she had not advanced at all. His eyes remained focused on hers until movement over his shoulder distracted her – another large black bird settled on the branch behind him, joining several others that had been watching since the Lucanic attack.
Curious, the man looked over his shoulder, frowning at the murder that seemed to be taking quite an interest in his attacker…such a bad omen that did not quite make any sense to him.
Using his distraction to her advantage, the Teir’Dal rushed forward for another attack, this time bracing her arms to bash into his ribs. Her elbow connected with hard flesh that seemed to give way beneath her, and the Barbarian again peeled away to the side. She adjusted her body, lashing out to kick hard into his shoulder, however her foot connected with air as the man dropped his shoulder and rolled through a crouch before coming to stand behind her.
“…are ye gonna keep at this all nigh’, or are ye gonna ‘splain yerself,” he asked, his voice thick and accented.
Frantic, the smaller elf again rushed her attacker, striking first at his neck, his shoulder and chest before trying to kick his legs out from beneath him; each time, the large man moved like water away from her assault, jumping upward and back as her legs passed beneath him.
As if to emphasis the futility of her attacks, the large Northman reached down and grasped her ankle, hauling her upward until she hung upside-down a few feet off the ground. Several angry kicks bounced off of his arm and chest, until finally she stopped struggling, her arms crossing over her chest while her other leg bent at the knee until her foot rested against her other calf.
“Ah, the Hanging Man,” the Barbarian mused, “or woman, as the case may be. Tell me, were did you learn to feign death so…realistically?”
His eyes drifted from her face to her stomach and her own eyes followed his to look, surprised to find the only evidence of the sword was a large hole in her shirt, and a very small wound that continued to close as they both watched it.
“I’d…like to know myself,” was all she could think to say.
Slowly, he lowered the dark elf until her hands pressed against the ground. The Teir’Dal stood on her hands for a long moment before slowly lowering her legs until her feet touched the ground as well before slowly rolling up to standing. Curiously, she placed a hand on her mostly bare stomach, fingertip tapping the place where the wound had once been.
“…perhaps I may know one who could answer such,” the Northman murmured before turning around and making his way back towards Qeynos…
…then Northman bowed to Makoto and Shade once before turning to walk away. Her eyes watched his back until the footmen slid the dojo door shut behind him before finally nodding to Makoto.
“Very well,” she replied to his unspoken question, “I’ll teach him…”
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