|
Post by Arwen on Jun 15, 2005 10:12:00 GMT -5
"Perchance I might have been a garden snake, but that you had dubbed me viper first," she replied caustically, cocking her head. "You too pay in our battle, I see. If you need a rest, I will happily oblige you."
She smiled wickedly, then attacked him ferociously again as if to egg him on for that offered break. She was all the more willing now to end this quickly--unless he would pause for rest, thus her attacks were becoming heavier, more defiant as the fire in her eyes.
|
|
|
Post by Elladan on Jun 19, 2005 20:31:35 GMT -5
He parried painfully, grimacing,
"In battle a warrior mustn't give up his fight upon account of a wound, for he will surely die," he more grunted ooy then said, still laughing. He always tried to supplement any unwanted feeling or emotion with laughter.
His return attack proved a rather weak one. He raised his sword, swaying uncomfortably in his fighting position, tried to clear his mind, xlosing his eyes, then swung down hard;a move that, if not parried, which could easily be done, might shatter her skull.
|
|
|
Post by Arwen on Jun 19, 2005 21:05:36 GMT -5
"And yet you would offer--me a rest first?" she asked, cut off momentarily in the midst of this to parry. Well, she wasn't going to allow him to slice her head in two, was she? But Why this sudden change to weakness? Pain finally taking him. That leg of hers was making her rather shaky now too, though there was not too much blood... Just the fact that it was right over a muscle. "And if a man does not sit to rest in his battle, due to wound, he will die of the wound before the sword, when perhaps whilst resting some pity may be bought, though prefered would be fairness, to which man's battler would submit, and allow a fair duel, lest he be a coward."
She mustered the strength to swingfrom the left, adrenaline working through her veins, though the rush was fading...
|
|
|
Post by Elladan on Jun 19, 2005 21:20:26 GMT -5
He parried swiftly, grimacing again, but not so vigorously as he first had. Either the pain was lessening or he was developing a tolorance to it.
Cowardice? Have not you heard such is justifiable in war? In the eyes of many mercy and compassion is considered weakness. Such is the chance one must take..."
He backed away, breathing ruffly, crackinghis neck dauntingly, as if gathering some hidden power, strength enough for his next move. He continued, adjusting his position accordingly, eyes blazing with a passion.
"All is fair in love and war," he exclaimed, then shouted, running fiercely, blade raised for bloodshed. He more resembled a tiger pouncing out of the brush, intent on his prey.
|
|
|
Post by Arwen on Jun 19, 2005 21:38:46 GMT -5
This next move brought upon Lomadia a feeling of forebodying, for in that action, it seemed that perhaps this were not a spar for practice, but a true duel, one to the death. Split seconds lead to a summing up of the situation while a somewhat panicked emotion dashed through her mind--if she were not successful, he would injure her severely. Why she felt such sudden panic, she could not fathom--and even if she had the capability, she had not the time as she leapt to the side and rolled upon the ground, loosing her grip on her sword for a moment before managing to pick it up again and regain her footing, brows furrowed in pain and concentration as she wheeled on him again, sniffing almost contemptuously. If he could play games, she had every right to. She twirled her blade again, changed hands momentarily to wipe away the sweat, and charged him with that left hand, changing hands only at the last moment in order to attempt at throwing him off.
|
|
|
Post by Elladan on Jun 19, 2005 22:32:39 GMT -5
Naturally, he stepped away to avoid the lefthand attack... then she switched hands. Viper... He tried to jump in time, tried to swing his blade around, but his jump was poor and his parry caught on incorrectly. She managed a minor wound, ripping cloth and slicing his flesh. The block did manage to bide him a few seconds, which he used to jump away from her, stumbling and rolling.
He coughed heartily, pulling himself up to his feet with the aid of his blade, then charged, spinning his blade and swinging at her with incredible force. The elf in him sprung forth. The immortal blood seemed to cry out, crimson stains upon his torn attire, flowing plentifully from his gaping wound, a symbol of his mortality. Blood was life, and life poured from boundaries, away from the security of his flesh, out into the air where he could breath it, smell it and use it against her, the viperess that bit him.
(EEeww, gory and slightly demented. Eeww)
|
|
|
Post by Arwen on Jun 19, 2005 22:41:25 GMT -5
Though she was pleased in drawing blood from him in return for his wrongdoing to her leg, that pleasure did not last long, for his attack after managing to stand again was swift, and she was ne'er one to attack a man whilst he was down. She dodged him with wide eyes, but pure elven blood was not enough to keep her on her feet when all of her weight landed on the injured leg and twisted when she turned, pulling at the flesh and opening the wound further, whereas it had already begun to scab over...
Landing on her stomach, she pushed up, grimacing, and rolled to her back, having not been far enough away from him to stand to her feet without risking an attack from behind. So she simply held her blade over her body to protect herself from his, ready to lash out, despite the pain that paled her face significantly, causing her to become a shade of grey beneath gold-brown hair that was now in her face again. She seethed and she shook, her entire body seeming to vibrate as she hissed breath through her teeth. She would have vengance for this one yet...
|
|
|
Post by Elladan on Jun 19, 2005 23:02:02 GMT -5
His blade rushed down, almost uncontrollably, almost unstoppably, but at the very last moment it swirled away, whooshing in the air until it completed its circle and halted. Cyrus brought the tip to the ground, resting it just beside her head in clear view, panting wildly.
“I, however, do have compassion,” his words were ruff and shaky, but his eyes still bright and livid, “Weakness? Cowardice? Consider as you like–“ he broke of, collapsing upon one knee, ankle torn from the action, imposing further damage.
|
|
|
Post by Arwen on Jun 19, 2005 23:11:15 GMT -5
She was ready for the attack, however vain her parry might have been, but as he stopped the blade and swung it in an arc before collapsing to the ground, she sat up, chest heaving and shuddering before tapping the flat of her blade to his stomach and leaning down to his ankle, abandoning the weapon to the side. "I consider you neither, considering that this be only a friendly spar, as deadly as it may have been," she managed shakily, placing a hand on his shoulder. "Sit... Let me see your ankle and your side. There is bandaging here, I've had to use it oft enough. You're covered in blood... Let me"--she coughed softly, wincing as she moved just properly enough to pain her leg once more--"Let me bandage that for you."
|
|
|
Post by Elladan on Jun 19, 2005 23:36:20 GMT -5
“No, no,” he resisted, dropping the blade he held, her blade, technically, so he could more easily roll his body into a sitting position, “ None of that. I’ll heal fine,” unfortunately he was stubborn, a quality that had losses and benefits. “You, on the contrary...” he glanced over at her wound, “Could use a bit. Perhaps we should return to the citadel? Oft steady hands can work upon others, but not on themselves efficiently.” He examined his ankle, red in swelling in painful glory, then took to his side- wound, marking that the blood-flow had now dwindled to a meager few drops. But something was wrong. He could feel it in the wound and see it by close examination of his tunic. A tiny bit of cloth was missing, shoved into the gash, probably not very deep, but even so...
“Infection,” he muttered, musing as he continued his analysis.
|
|
|
Post by Arwen on Jun 20, 2005 7:17:24 GMT -5
Gathering the situation from his actions and muttered word, she took hold of his wrist and pulled him toward herself, moving at the same time so that she could examine the wound, pulling his shirt away from the slash across his side and placing a finger on either side with a bit of pressure, unperturbed as blood oozed out and she caught a glimpse of some of the small amount of fabric burried therein.
With that, she stood, paying no heed to his words and moving off to the small building by the training grounds, and walking in the side door. She reemerged a moment later with a large bundle of bandaging and two skins, one presumably of water and the other of some kind of liquor. "If it makes you feel better, I'll do myself first," she said dryly, sitting and lifting her pants leg. She tore a bit of the bandaging off and opened a skin, pouring water over the wound before begining to clean it with ease, somehow having stopped the shaking of her body. Lomadia glanced up at him, turning her head slightly. "Put pressure on this for me, Cyrus?"
|
|
|
Post by Elladan on Jun 20, 2005 11:12:54 GMT -5
He tried in vain to stop her, for her actions were too swift even for his own quick reactions .He gave up, letting her examine him, still defiant. She could look, but she couldn't touch.
"Certainly," he replied, following her orders, pressing down. He watched carefully as she bandaged, studying her actions, the way she cleaned the wound with experience and skill. It comforted him to see her perform these action upon herself, yet he still felt great unease and anticipation for his own wounds.
"Take your sword, I have no need of it. Obviously you won your rum with mere words." he chuckled in a low, restful tone, smiling still despite his immense unease.
|
|
|
Post by Arwen on Jun 20, 2005 11:32:45 GMT -5
While he held pressure upon her aching wound, she uncorked the second bottle, placing her hand on his wrist and lifting it gently away from her leg before pouring the liquid over her wound, groaning in pain and wincing, wetness sparking in her eyes when she opened them, the stinging pain worse than what had already been held. Placing his hand carefully back over the wound again with the bit of cloth bandaging, she unraveled some of the rest of it, swallowing before once more nudging his arm out of the way and begining to swiftly and deftly wrap her leg with the off-white material. "That's fine. Just... just a moment."
|
|
|
Post by Elladan on Jun 20, 2005 11:45:56 GMT -5
He winced along with her, stomach turning as he watched the liquid burn, sterilizing the wound. Eventually he looked away, over to his swollen ankle, letting her maneuver his arm as she wished, unwilling to watch any longer. He had firmly decided she wasn't healing him, not with that seering liquor of hers.
"I wonder what they will say of us at dinner, wounded like this," he mused, trying to divert his mind and hers. He looked back, watching as she bandaged, " Impressive. Where did you learn such skill?"
|
|
|
Post by Arwen on Jun 20, 2005 11:57:42 GMT -5
"Not many around the citadel do not know how to perform basic healing skills. Bandaging is considered a necessity, and it is. Don't look like that, Cyrus, they'll perform the same technique on you back there. It hurts just as much, no matter what they use--and this cleans just as well. That's why it's out here. Not aged properly, so it's not much good but cleaning wounds. Let me see your side. I can't do anything for your ankle, but I can get that fabric out of your cut and bandage you up. Lean to the other side, on your elbow so I can get to it."
|
|
|
Post by Elladan on Jun 20, 2005 13:19:11 GMT -5
His wide eyes rolled warily over to the seering liquor, one brow raised in question, unsure and undecided. He knew infection would be more painful in the end, but here and now increased pain seemed undesireable, and avoiding it a tempting option. Stupid, but tempting.
"Yes, but the citadel could at least offer me a good drink before doing so, maybe medication, herbs, something, none of which we seem to have."
|
|
|
Post by Arwen on Jun 20, 2005 13:25:42 GMT -5
"Drink this then," she replied easily, holding the liquor out to him. "It's strong... very strong. Half a skin of this would have a full blood elf swooning. Take a few swigs, if that is what you desire, I'll go find something. Though I don't wish to hear you complain that it's not manly to numb a wound before healing it as you did of resting while in battle." She finished dryly, lifting a brow as she gazed at him in an almost scolding manner. "At least let me clean it with water whilst you whine like a babe, Cyrus, come now..."
|
|
|
Post by Elladan on Jun 20, 2005 14:14:26 GMT -5
“Still a viper, even whilst resting from battle,” he mentioned, taking the liquor and bringing it swiftly to his lips. Oddly enough, he only took one sip, then gave it back.
“Do whatever you like, I care not anymore, as I obviously cannot shake you off.” He positioned himself as she’d suggested, removing his shirt entirely, as it seemed more of a bother to lift it up and hold it away from the wound.
He glanced over the cut again. The blood had ceased to flow, dried and brown now, gaping still. That would leave a nasty scar. He could see the cloth, not deep, just in there in a tiny red stained strip. That might take some hard rising, or a knife to push it out. He sighed, turning his gaze away, unwilling to watch.
|
|
|
Post by Arwen on Jun 20, 2005 14:22:30 GMT -5
"Once a viper, always a viper," she said softly, gazing at him in an emotion close to pity. "Do you wish a numbing reagent, or not? Good man, if you will not cooperate with me, your submitting is of no use. If you wish it, we will speak not a word of it after the fact. And I will gladly find it for you."
In the mean time, she had the water pouring down over his wound, and was gently cleaning the surrounding area of blood, applying slight amounts of pressure at the edges of the cut to clear a bit of the grime away, stomach churning slightly. It was not a hard feat, removing a bit of cloth from a wound, especially considering with this one that it was not in a vital place, but it was a bit sickening. She took a moment to seat herself beside him and inspect the wound, now clear of most of the blood, again with gentle hands and adept fingers.
|
|
|
Post by Elladan on Jun 20, 2005 23:09:54 GMT -5
“No, war would give me less luxury.” He looked back, watching the concentration in her eyes and the skill in her fingers, noting the pallor of disgust that lit her visage. Eventually he submitted to another swig of liquor, wary of the pain to come. His phoenix eyes were lit with hesitance, yet still they held a certain strength, mirth and stubborn pride, though submission dulled their fire. He seemed more like a horse under reins, tamed, surrendering to mankind. That was Cyrus, watered down, humbled, submitting to a healer...
“Snake... in elvish,” he mumbled, randomly, trying to divert himself, “Your blade– earlier you mentioned the hilt. I just remembered,” he smiled, eyes cast down to the earth in thought, fingers taunting a small insect.
|
|