Tag: martial arts

#Lore24 – Entry #131 – Muckenmyre Month #10 – Harsh Discipline at The Bloated Floater

From the journal of Takara, Slave Inquisitor of the Stellae Illustris.

As I attempted to express the council’s lack of interest in the glassware to the merchant, there came shouts from the Bloated Floater.  Though I had not been to the dockside bar myself, I was aware of its reputation for being a place for sailors, and that it was not for the faint of heart; the owner, a dwarf by the name of Hafus Blackjaw, had something of a reputation involving his pet crocodiles, and though I was not privy to the details yet, I could certainly guess.  There were a larger than usual number of ships in the port this day, and as I would soon find out, some of the crews of these vessels were not on friendly terms. 

It was the crashing of wood, followed by a loud battle cry that drew our attention to the bar.  A moment later a dozen sailors ran out, and the sounds of broken glass, more snapping wood, and angry shouting followed.  A few more stragglers ran out, one with a bleeding head staggered out, only to be pulled back in by a muscular orcish arm.  The mayor commanded some of those gathered to seek out the constable and some of the town watch and hurried toward the bar.  I followed, though he tried to dissuade me from getting involved.  I shook my head and continued alongside him, a few other council members following us.  As kind as he had been to me, I would not allow harm to come to him if I could possibly stop it; it was my duty in a way, or at least, I considered it to be so.

Another bleeding man came crashing through a window as we approached, and the sound of battle within was intense.  The mayor called out for an immediate halt to the fight as he entered the front doors, but as I entered, I could see that there was little hope he’d even been heard, and none that anyone involved would have listened.  As Mayor Pleasence again tried to shout down the fury of two dozen drunken sailors, one of them hurled a bottle toward him. 

I reacted without thought, caught the bottle before any damage was done.  I heard one of the councilmen gasp in surprise.  In the next moment, I shoved him away from us while forcing the mayor aside as a tabletop was flung at us.  Though I felt little in the way of anger, I could see the mayor was outraged, and had already set himself to get involved.  Given the fact that I’d seen him practicing his swordplay several times now, it was hardly unexpected.  As I caught his eye, I nodded my understanding and led the way into the chaos; better to let them focus on me first.

It was my first battle in some time, and I was perhaps a bit out of practice despite the exercises I performed daily with Satella.  I only managed to disable three of the sailors during my initial attack, catching the first in a nerve cluster on his back with a strike that left him whimpering upon the floor, while I struck his companion with a kick that shattered his knee, while I caught the third with a flurry of quick strikes to disorient him, then landed a solid punch to his gut that had him doubled over on the floor.  I managed to deflect several poorly aimed strikes from fists and improvised weapons from others as I stepped back to provide cover for the mayor, caught a few blows myself, but the blows were hardly anything for me to worry about. 

The mayor was not skilled in the Arts as I am, but he was no stranger to brawling.  He dealt with several in his own way as I continued to provide cover and strike as opportunities permitted, leaving many broken bones and painful nerve strikes in my wake.  I probably took as many blows as I landed, none that were terribly serious, though, the worst being a broken rib as I stepped in front of an enraged orc and blocked a blow to the mayor’s head from the table leg he had been wielding as a club.  I then took it from him, struck a blow that knocked out several teeth, and proceeded to break both of his arms and one knee.  It has been my experience that orcs do not go down easily when angry, so one must be thorough, doubly so when they’re also drunk.

The fight had mostly left the remaining dozen or so sailors by this point; the arrival of the constable and a half dozen of the town watch helped settle their ire further as they looked upon the many disabled fighters on the bar’s floor.  Though I remained watchful, I had little doubt there would be further trouble as I gazed at them and watched them shrink away from my glare.  With the watch moving in to secure the troublemakers, I noticed that Satella had followed them, and had leaned in through the front door, smiling pleasantly as she took in the scene.  She came in, stepping over the destruction, atop one of the unlucky sailors who lay groaning on the floor, to my side. 

The mayor declined Satella’s offer to heal him, said that his wounds were not so serious, but I could tell he was nursing a broken rib of his own, and his head had a nasty gash from a broken bottle that I had not managed to intercept in time.  Feeling that I had failed in some way, knowing that allowing my charge to be wounded was not acceptable for a member of the Stellae Illustris, I nonetheless offered to heal him myself.  He was surprised that I had suggested it, as I hadn’t told him I possessed such abilities.  I assured him he would not feel the same agony as one would when healed by Yurisaya.  He agreed, and I placed one hand upon his torso, the other over his head wound, and called upon the magic I had been taught by the Stellae Illustris. 

It was indeed healing, of a sort.  I felt the skin on my brow tear open as if it was I who had been struck by the bottle, felt another two ribs break.  My vision blurred momentarily as his pain flowed into me, my breathing becoming labored, but I did not make a sound aside from a grunt.  The mayor seemed more disturbed by this than the prospect of Satella’s healing as I eased myself into a nearby seat.  The wounds would heal eventually, faster than natural healing, but it would still take a few days.

Satella had other ideas, though; she lay her hand upon my shoulder and uttered a healing prayer, and I felt the fiery healing of Yurisaya erupt through me.  I did gasp then, my broken ribs resetting themselves, my flesh feeling as though it was being flensed by a razor as it knitted together.  As the merciful agony began to fade, I thanked her, and as the mayor fixed me with a quizzical look, I assured him that I would answer any questions he had when there was time.

For now we picked ourselves up and spoke to Blackjaw about what had transpired within his bar.  He’d spent most of the brawl safely behind his bar, and was quite vocal about who was ultimately responsible for getting the sailors riled up:  “’Twas a pair of mazoku wenches, it was!  One of them red, the other blue, flirting with one man after another, using their damned demon charms on them, they did!  Wasn’t five minutes passed after they had shook their asses through my bar that the fighting started!  ‘Twas the twin twats from Tempest Tor!”

#Lore24 – Entry #127 – Muckenmyre Month #6 – The Ways of Mind and Body

From the journal of Takara, Slave Inquisitor of the Stellae Illustris.

I am not certain how long I stood where the mayor had left us, but after a time, Satella gently nudged me, bidding me to follow her.  Having no will of my own at the time, I did so as a slave would, a few steps behind, careful to keep my gaze from meeting anyone’s eyes.  It became awkward as we traversed the town again, when Satella kept slowing her pace so that I could catch up, and I likewise stopped behind her.  She realized what I was doing after a few instances of this happening, and gently informed me that she and I were equals now, and that I should walk beside her.

I didn’t know how to process that.  Me?  Equal to a free human?  It seemed absurd to the point of laughter, but I could find no such mirth within me.  Still, her smile never left her face, and she showed a remarkable amount of patience with my awkwardness.  It is so unnatural for me to consider walking beside someone who was not a slave, so against my very nature that I had to concentrate on the very act, knowing that were someone from the Empire to see me, I would be punished severely, and rightly so. 

Satella took me out of town via a boardwalk off the Lower Landing, following a rocky patch along the coast, in view of the Grimbridge lighthouse that stood on a nearby island, and eventually we wound up at a manmade breakwater that jutted out from the shore.  Satella showed remarkable agility for a human, her raised heels easily hopping along the rocks as she brought me to the end of the jetty.  There was a large, smooth boulder here, laying almost flat, which she lowered herself to her knees upon, and had me do the same, resting her hands upon her knees.  For a time, we said nothing, her eyes looking out over the sea, the waves calm for the moment, but the darkening skies further out indicating a storm on the way. 

Though I had recently been plucked from the very sea I now gazed upon, I held no fear of it, no particularly strong feelings.  The waves crashing upon the rocks a few feet below us were calming, the breeze blowing over us pleasant enough in the warm morning.  The sounds of the docks were but a faint buzz in my ears at the time.  After some time simply taking in the moment, Satella had turned her gaze upon me, and I could feel the intensity of her scrutiny. 

It was the same kind of gaze that I had mastered as an inquisitor, deep, penetrating, unnerving.  I was used to that look of course, so was unfazed by it, but thought it curious nonetheless.  I had had my suspicions about Satella’s nature, in the little time I had known her, but it seemed that she was openly telling me of her true self now.  I suppose it makes some kind of sense.  As a kerryn, I cannot begin to fathom the nature or intentions of the gods, for such things are not meant for us, but for Yurisaya to send a Confessor to be my caretaker at this time seemed somehow appropriate.  We are both intimately familiar with inflicting and receiving pain, of the many arts of torture, of the Ways of Mind and Body, as they are usually called; the word “Breaking” is usually omitted from the name.  I am uncertain as to how these methods came to be, and whether the Yurisayan confessors adopted them from the Inquisition, or if it was the other way around, but, at least, some things are the same even across the vast distance between here and the Empire, so it is likely the latter that is true.

Kindred spirits by virtue of our abilities to inflict and endure pain, of our ability to drive others away from us by our very nature. 

And yet, Satella was rather different than the Confessors I had known; she was very much like the average Yurisayan in demeanor:  cheerful, compassionate, friendly…yet still at a distance from others, as evidenced by the looks she had been given by the townsfolk.  A strange dichotomy, but one I could understand; I had often put on such faces myself, at least in my earlier days, before I had been fully adopted into the Inquisition. 

Having shared this moment, she rose, and I followed, and now openly aware of both of our natures, she assumed a stance, nodding for me to do so as well.  Of course, I was quite familiar with the form, for it is amongst the most basic of exercises which I practice daily and had resumed following her healing my bones.  The forms were unarmed techniques, meant for fighting without need of weapons or armor, for slaves were to have neither outside of a full-fledged slave knight of the Stellae Illustris, but quite useful for an Inquisitor hidden amongst the rank and file of the slaves.  The particular techniques we shared were meant to be the most efficient at disabling opponents, at inflicting the most damaging blows to bone in order to disable and cripple, to strike the nerves in ways that could cause limbs to go numb.

I mirrored her movements exactly, without need of her to slow her progression through them, though by the time we had finished with the exercises, I was sweating and winded, still not fully recovered from my ordeal at sea.  We returned to sitting upon the stone for a while longer, until I had recovered, simply enjoying the sea, though it was growing rougher as the storm approached. 

Though my deeper thoughts were still far away, back in the heart of the Empire, my earlier uncertainties about my situation had alleviated somewhat, knowing that I had a kindred spirit beside me, our intrinsic understanding of one another creating a bond between us without need of words. 

LORE24 ENTRY #17 – Kanna the Crusher

Category – Person

Kanna “The Crusher” is a famous pit-fighter known across multiple systems for being the most skilled fighter around.  Based on the planet Ruvale, she runs “The Crush”, a spacer’s bar and fighting arena where she is the reigning champion with an ongoing challenge to anyone willing to accept it:  beat her in a fight, win the big prize, which is currently over 200,000 credits.  Though many have tried, none have managed to defeat her in a fight.

Kanna is a massive female orc, standing over seven feet tall and is built like an equinarian (meaning she’s loaded with muscle and appears to be amongst the strongest humanoids walking), her green skin covered in intricate tribal tattoos in red and white inks, and below those dozens of scars from her many fights, her shoulder-length hair also white, unkempt and wild, her eyes a distinct reddish tint.  Kanna’s muscular form is rarely covered in more than a furry bikini with matching furry bands around her wrists and ankles.  She is not known to have ever been spotted wearing shoes, either.  Outside the ring, she is friendly and outgoing, often mingling with her customers and getting to know them as they enjoy some food and drink and the other entertainment her establishment offers.

In a fight, however, she is all business.  Kanna can certainly be vicious, but unlike many orcs, seems to control her bloodlust, never letting herself get flustered or out of control.  Her movements are always intentional, no movements wasted, as are her strikes.  To date, there hasn’t been a challenger who has managed to best her in battle, her knowledge of unarmed fighting styles seemingly unmatched.  Depending on the attitude of the challenger, she may not hesitate in simply putting them down for the count, or she may play with them, trading maneuvers and wearing them down, drawing them in to see if they have predicted her feints.  Though Kanna is a master of many styles, as her moniker implies, she has a preference for grappling.  A vast majority of her fights end with her opponents being crushed in her arms or between her legs, or even underfoot, with her twisting their limbs in a painful submission hold.  Rumors persist that she gets quite excited having smaller beings under her feet, but thus far, nobody has been brave enough to confirm the rumors.

Unbeknownst to nearly everyone, Kanna is not only amongst the deadliest unarmed fighters in the known galaxy, but she is also a skilled arcanist, casting spells of moderate power, though her true talents are in tattoo magic; many of her tattoos were created through her own efforts, and provide various benefits to her.  Those who are aware of her arcane talents assume that she has enhanced her body with her magics, and it is her magical tattoos which are responsible for her impressive combat abilities.  The truth of the matter is known to only Kanna herself and Shi Sukimori, the kerryn arcane gunslinger whom mentored Kanna in the mystic arts, though there are rivals who, having found out about Kanna’s magical tattoos, are plotting to find out the truth for themselves, whatever it may take.