animus_network | [video/txt]- A restless Nord

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[video/txt]- A restless Nord

[Over the last few weeks Brunwulf had become increasingly restless. He wanted a fight. A sparring session with someone at least. His Nord blood demanded that he fight with someone to hone his skills, which were going to waste in this place. Aye, he had Floor Thirty Two to hunt and things, but sparring with another man would be better. He narrowed his eyes into the screen, as he sent his message.]

I am in need of some fighting action within this tower of torture. Would anyone wish to spar with me? With either blade or fists, I do not mind. A fist fight would be welcomed, as I have not had one of those for many moons. If anyone wishes to take up the challenge, meet me on Floor Thirty Two. This is where I often go to hunt and practice my blade skills.

[He wondered if anyone would be man enough to challenge him. Or perhaps a strong woman might even challenge him. Who knew?]

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Thank you. I still do not know your name, warrior. I am Brunwulf-Bear Claw from the world of Skyrim. [Brunwulf eyed up Sephiroth's arms and his stance, before delivering the next lot of strong blows. He aimed for the other man's forearms, to try and break his defence.]

[Each blow shook Sephiroth's forearms, and the last he felt smash them apart with an explosion of sensation that would surely later be a bruise. He turns quickly though, into the momentum so the fist couldn't find it's way into his body. Also taking a half-step back in retreat before bringing his guard back up again and eyeing over the other man's stance.

Bear Claw. It sounds like some sort of tribal name, makes perfect sense given the size of the man.]

I am Sephiroth. My world goes commonly by the name of Gaia.

[Coming back in for the next set of moves, Sephiroth starts with two quick jabs again to Brunwulf's forearms. Then ducks down slightly and attempts a hook around the other side of the defense presented.]

Sephiroth. [Brunwulf pronounced the name in his thick voice and nodded. It sounded like some sort of fancy Elvish name. Brunwulf hooked his arms up to the front of his body, then to the side, to dodge Sephiroth's next moves.]

You move with the grace of a cat, Sephiroth. I am impressed. Or should that be a saber-tooth tiger?

Hmph.

[He's unsure if that is a taunt or a compliment really so Sephiroth doesn't answer, letting his next flurry of jabs do the talking for him.

The end of which follows with a knee up into the torso of his opponent, intending to get under the Nord's defense enough to get a blow to the head in; to disorient.]

[Brunwulf took the blows on his forearms but didn't expect the knee to his torso. It took him off guard, as he shuddered slightly and groaned at the impact. Brunwulf growled and went to elbow Sephiroth in the ribs.]

Umph.

[Sephiroth was already feigning backwards from his advance as the bulky elbow struck hard into the side of his ribs. Though leather coat and harness beneath took the brunt of the blow it was testament to Brunwulf's strength that it still knocked some of the wind from him.

The silver-haired man turned away from the blow and took two well-distanced steps back within his stance even as his ribs still thudded with the reminiscence of the blow.]

Strong counter.

[Brunwulf smirked at the silver-haired general. The other man was fast but he didn't match up to the Nord in brute strength. Yet, Sephiroth's aim was true and deadly fast. Brunwulf wiped his brow with the back of his forearm.]

You are fast, I'll give you that.

[Sephiroth released a single cough as the curling of the wind to his side started to uncoil itself. He shook his head and rubbed the side of his nose with the crook of a leathered forefinger. It wasn't bleeding or running at all like it might be if he was a little more mortal - though a faint line of sweat was starting to form between silver bangs of hair. He curled his fists back up and raised his arms once more into a ready stance and followed with a quick nod.]

As fast at least as you are strong. This is a good duel.

[He stepped back in, taking advantage of that speed, to jab three times again at Brunwulf and then side-step around him for the fourth.]

[The Nord smiled triumphantly. He enjoyed a spar and a good one at that, with a warrior who was his equal or more in strength and speed.]

Aye, this is proving to be good sport. [Brunwulf got ready for Sephiroth's next lots of lunges but didn't anticipate the man side-stepping around him. He managed to land a hit to Brunwulf's back, which caused the Nord to topple forwards.]

A good hit! [He nursed a sore back, as he regained his posture.]

[And isn't that what it's all about? Luring your sparring partner into a set of circumstances where they think they have pre-judged your next move, and then pulling out and hitting them with the unexpected. To Sephiroth, attack patterns are made to be broken.]

Hm. Careful not to get too comfortable.

[He flashed a grin from behind raised fists but otherwise gave Brunwulf the opportunity to get his stance back. He knows there might have been a window there to knock the heavier-weight over but this is a spar, not a real fight.]

I'm not. [The Nord growled and then smirked. He liked how his opponent played. How he played the moves out then used tactics to avoid being hit.]

You are skilled. [The Nord would not often spill compliments as such to men he'd just met, yet this man was skilled in many ways. He composed himself, then brought his fists up against his chest once more.]

[That growl in reply is satisfying. The Nord should be careful how he lets Sephiroth goad him - he is rather good at stirring emotions in others.

He shrugged his guard back up again to the highest it would go and grunted.]

Your move.

[His move indeed. Brunwulf steeled himself for the next lot of punches he was about to deal out. He cracked his knuckles and smirked. He wasn't going to be beaten by this man.

He side stepped to the left, before letting off a volley of quick, powerful punches to Sephiroth's arms and chest area.]

[One. Two. Forearms Shudder. Three. Fou-

There is an audible crack as Sephiroth turns and Brunwulf's powerful meaty fist meets head on with his right forearm. Pain blossoms instantly and is accompanied with a gasp as Sephiroth steps back and away from Brumwulf, keeping more of his guard up on the left side to block the punches that may keep coming.]

[Brunwulf heard and felt the crack against Sephiroth's forearm. He never intended to break the man, just test him. He did smirk slightly though. The Nord felt pride rise up in his chest for one brief moment, before steeling himself for the other man's next move.]

Are you injured?

[The fact that the Nord stopped in his attack tells of the polite arrangement here; it's a spar only, not a real fight. This satisfies Sephiroth, he'd not engage in a real fight on a powerless floor (as far as he could help it)

As it was he took a few seconds to take two deeper breaths in, and rub his forearm gingerly. He flexes the fingers of that hands carefully; if it had been broken then he couldn't have moved them. Then flashes Brunwulf a smirk.]

Just another bruise to the ego-mostly.

[Then he resets both his stance and his guard. A second later he'd be in close to Brunwulf again, offering a series of jab-jab attacks which he dodges from one side to the other with to avoid a counter.

His intention to get close enough to hook a booted leg behind one of the Nord's while punching forwards - a trip tactic.]

Hmph. [The large Nord snorted at Sephiroth's reply. The man's ego nearly matched his own. Brunwulf goes to try and place the taller man off balance, as he places a few well-aimed punches at his forearms and elbows. He never saw the boot coming to trip him, as he cried out and felt his balance fail him.

The huge Nord went tumbling over, as he growled and held his arms over his face, in case of punches from above.]

[Those last few jabs before hooking his boot around were shakier than he'd like on account of Brunwulf's counter punches to his arms. They were just starting to ache from the continued assaults when suddenly the bulkier mass of his opponent vanished back and crashed to the floor beneath him.

Sephiroth paused for a moment to consider continuing his attack, but then instead offered a hand in offering to assist the Nord to get back on his feet.

It would be a question of the other mans pride indeed, whether he took the offering or used it to his advantage. The test being Sephiroth's intention.]

[Brunwulf felt like smacking the hand away but thought better of it. He took the hand and gave a sharp nod to the general. This was a battle between friends not enemies.

He brushed himself down then prepared for the next lot of volleys.]

[One with the size such as the Nord takes an additional hand at his elbow to help to lever him back to his feet. Not that Sephiroth doesn't have the strength, just not the right leverage in his stance to start with. He'd half expected the Nord to neglect his offered hand.]

Two out of three?

[Sephiroth suggests, clearly indicating he's got one up on the Nord already, as he himself steps back, wipes a line of sweat from his forehead with the back of a leathered fist and then brings his arms back up again into their ready position.

Perhaps his suggestion will rub just enough salt to get the Nord to start pre-emptively-]

[The Nord just grunted and furrowed both his brows. He wasn't going to let this man wan against him. He buried his pride under his ego and hoped the next lot of blows would strike true.]

It would seem so. You are skilled, yet no one bests a Nord in combat. [Brunwulf readied himself, then let a flurry of strong punches towards Sephiroth's chest area and began to use my force towards the punches.]

[That bruised forearm crumpled under the second strike even as Sephiroth fought to try to turn into and against the force of the Nord's blows. To try and redirect some of the momentum rather than having it all shake at his guard.

Strike three and four both knock Sephiroth's arms wide open and strike five connects squarely in the window of his chest. His breath knocked away Sephiroth manages to take a step back before crashing to a knee, one hand at his chest while he fights for his breath back. The other hand at the ground to hold his balance.]

[Brunwulf grunted at each strong punch he was aiming towards the lighter man. He wanted to see a weakness, a chink in the armour he could strike at. The punch to his chest caused the Nord to smile in achievement. He looked down at the man and frowned, before smiling softly.]

Up you get. [He offered a rough hand to Sephiroth and hoped the taller man would take it.]

[Persistence, powerlessness and an already weakened forearm won Brunwulf his window and the silvered warrior is still heaving for breath as the Nord approaches him to first admire his handiwork and then offer the hand in much the same way that Sephiroth had himself.

Doesn't stop it being bitter though but at least it's adhering to some unspoken etiquette that they have in this fight. After a pause, a few deeper breaths, Sephiroth does take the large hand and hauls himself to his feet.

His chest still blossoms with thudding pain as the pressure of the winding strike works it's way through his too-human condition, and Sephiroth tries hard not to hunch over with it. If he could, he might have asked the Nord to give him a moment, but he's not sure his pride could really take it. It's obvious he's still recovering.]

[Brunwulf can see that his punch did more damage than he had thought. The taller man was obviously still in pain. The Nord was pleased that his punch had strike true but he wasn't out to kill the man.]

Do you need more time to recover? [He wiped some sweat from his forehead, as he met the gaze of the other man.]

[video/txt]- A restless Nord

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