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Post by Deleted on Dec 13, 2016 15:02:25 GMT -6
Sword Play
Muiris | Otama
War-Colt | Cogaidh
Y1700: While in the common training grounds, Muiris will usually stick to himself. However, when he notices Otama off in the distance, practicing with a sword, he cant help but get a little curious. |
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Post by Deleted on Dec 13, 2016 15:35:58 GMT -6
M U I R I S
❅War-Forged Raider❅
 Fate whispers to the Warrior
"You cannot withstand the Storm"
the Warrior whispers back
"I am the Storm" The cool, brisk morning air swept through the training grounds, arching around the hills and tousling the brief foliage upon the ground. The sun had barely risen, slowly showing itself over the Onea mountain range. Thin, wispy clouds traveled slowly across the lightening sky, casting weak shadows whenever they crossed path with the sun, bringing a chill to the earth below before the sun managed to peak out once more.
The weather was perfect.
The sounds of the early riser trainers could be heard across the grounds. Not sounds of chit-chat or leisure, but sounds of work. Metal upon metal. Huffs and puffs of hard-working breaths. Heavy hooves upon a hard ground.
Of these hard working War-Forged equine was a roan Raider. His light coat was dark with sweat, his mane and tail tied into tight buns, pulled neat and out of the way. Before him, a dummy clung for its life on wobbling stilts, beaten time and time again by the large draft's studded hooves. With each hit, he let out a wartime roar, as if he were intimidating an enemy. Long scars stretched his body, showing all he battles he had both lost and won. Each one, he carried with pride. Each one held a memory.
He gave one more hit to the dummy, with a spin on his front hooves and both back legs striking out. A thwack! rung in his ears as his hooves landed their hit before falling back to the cold ground. His breath heaved through tired lungs as he took his breath, reaching to the water bottle propped against a nearby rock. His amber gaze scanned the grounds around him, watching as others practiced on dummies such as his or with weapons instead. Water trickled over his lips and down his throat before he put the bottle down, getting ready to pull his own War Hammer and practice with his weapon. A gift from his very own herd. His family.
That was, until a certain someone caught his eye. Pausing, his gaze found a painted mule from afar, his head tipping as she noticed her playing - no, fighting, with a sword. Of course, he had seen other Raiders engage in sword play, but he had never seen a sword as unique as hers.
Shaking his sweaty neck, the Raider pressed away from his training spot, slowly approaching the stranger. He stopped several lengths away, his ears pricked forward as he watched her nimbly movements with the weapon. Her steps were beautiful, her handle on the sword the best he'd ever seen. He found himself staring in awe, all words lost. |
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Post by cogaidh on Dec 15, 2016 11:47:27 GMT -6
Òtama
The cool air of early morning was a welcome thing for the young mare, it kept her from sweating too much while she went through her practice patterns. Even with the cool air, her coat had darkened with sweat from her exertions. Strands of her pale mane had escaped the tight bun she had pulled the longer sections into and stuck to the sides of her neck. The heavy bronze sword never wavered in the patterns she moved through, the blade a blur of golden metal in the faint morning light. Each of her patterns she had learned from her father, though she had modified each one to fit better with her smaller frame and nimbler hooves.
Her breath came out in sharp pants as she parried imaginary blows, her mind creating her foes to better fill her patterns as she whipped her sword around her body. Such practice patterns had been much easier to do when her father had been there to spar with her. A real opponent was always better than just the air she fought now. Òtama was still new enough to the Valkyries, that she hadn’t had time to ask her sisters-in-arms for practice bouts and she wasn’t even sure which would be willing to spar. As she spun into a new pattern, the braid at her withers slipped from the loop she had pulled it into and whipped painfully against her neck.
This slight distraction brought her from her concentration enough to realize she had an audience. She came to a swift stop in her pattern, turf flying from her hooves as she dug them in to stop her momentum. Her watcher was a large draft stallion, two small horns rested above his nose showing his unicorn blood. Much like her he had pulled his mane and tail up into buns to keep them out of the way. Òtama’s long ears flicked to and fro as she assessed the roan stallion. She brought her sword to her side, sliding the flat of the blade along her foreleg in a practiced motion before sliding it into the sheath that was strapped to her left shoulder. She dipped her head in a greeting before raising it to look him in the eyes. Her Valkyrie sisters had helped her quite shake her submissive lowering of her head.
“Good morning,” she said after a moment, unsure of why the stallion had approached her.
[WC:404]
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Post by Deleted on Dec 15, 2016 16:34:03 GMT -6
M U I R I S
❅War-Forged Raider❅
Fate whispers to the Warrior
"You cannot withstand the Storm"
the Warrior whispers back
"I am the Storm" He watched with wonder as the young mare parried imaginary foes, not a single step or swing of her heavy sword miscalculated. He found himself so lost in the movements of the sword whipping through the air, he almost hadnt noticed that she had stopped. But she had. Her weapon was slipped into its holster, the painted mare turning to look at him.
He noticed how she kept her hair tied back in the same fashion as his own, but hers had started to slip loose from its ties from her workout. She was a good deal shorter than him, sporting a scruffy coat and long ears. Chocolate eyes turned his way as she ushered forward a greeting.
"Good morning." He replied, his voice thick and gruff, but with a soft, inviting tone. He held his stance like he would with another Raider; respectable with his head leveled and hooves pressed into the cold hard ground. His eyes found her sword again, his cranium dipping in its direction.
"I dont mean to intrude, i was just fascinated by your weapon." He complimented. "I havent seen a sword fashioned like that since my father's time." Granted, his father had had a lot of swords. Probably more swords than what was healthy. Muiris always loved looking at their fine details and shining blades, awestruck over every little etch and curve.
Pulling himself from his memories, he gave a glance around the training yard. Sure, there were other warriors training, but he found it odd that no one offered her a spar. It was always best to train with live targets rather than imaginary ones, anyways. His lips upturned in a lopsided grin as he turned to look at her again, shuffling a few steps away to the common grounds swords that were left out for all to use.
"Would you like a partner?" He called over his shoulder, glancing between each weapon where they hung in their place. They were nothing fancy, of course, as they were only meant for training and nothing more. "Im not nearly at your skill level, but i know a trick or two." He pulled a sword from its place on the board, weighing it in his telekinetic grip before turning back to look at her for an answer. an eyebrow raised. His mind started spinning as he tried to recall all the tricks his father and Nolk had taught him; just enough to make him not look like a fool. |
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Post by cogaidh on Dec 15, 2016 23:32:45 GMT -6
Òtama
She tilted her head to the side as he spoke, he seemed to show her respect which was a pleasant surprise. While many of the War Forged were accepting of the Warlord’s changes, some Raiders were still standoffish or even hostile towards any Valkyrie. She saw his eyes slip back to her sword and she glanced at the red fabric wrapping the bronze hilt. She gave a small smile at his comment, “This was my father’s sword, I inherited it when he fell in combat just over a year ago,” it was still a raw spot in her heart but she wasn’t saddened anymore by thinking of him. She glanced up to see the stallion look around the training yard.
She had noticed many of the other training equines had kept their distance from her, not speaking or offering to train with her. She knew it was partially her size and partially her gender, she was way to small to be a Raider and many still believed that mares didn’t belong in combat. The roan Raider’s movement caught her eye and she turned her attention back to him, he was moving towards one of the common weapon racks. Her ears perked forward at his offer of a sparring partner, “Yes, I would like that,” it would be nice to have a partner for some sword play. She pulled her sword from its sheath as he hefted one of the practice swords.
A blush crept up her cheeks at his comment, she didn’t think she was near as skilled as he believed. She had just had a lot of time to practice what her father had shown her and what she had observed from other sword fighters. She was quite green when it came to actual combat, hopefully she wouldn’t make a fool of herself before this new stallion. “I’m Òtama Sighirkdóttir, by the way,” she added as she settled into a battle stance, her sword held in front of her.
[WC:330] [Post:2] |
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Post by Deleted on Dec 16, 2016 16:58:07 GMT -6
M U I R I S
❅War-Forged Raider❅
Fate whispers to the Warrior
"You cannot withstand the Storm"
the Warrior whispers back
"I am the Storm" A small twinge found his heart when she mentioned her fallen father, his lips pressing together as he remembered his own father's fall. There it was, they already had something in common. Holding the sword before him, he examined it as she accepted his invite to spar. The sword was much longer than his own; its blade thinner and sleek, but strong and sturdy. It had engravings in the hilt to show it belonged to the training yards, a leather tassel tied off at the end. There were nicks and scrapes on the blade from years of rough treatment, but a few swings through the air showed it was nothing to worry about. It still had a few good years of abuse left.
"Im Muiris." He replied as he held the long sword out before him, mimicking her battle stance. "Muiris Akecheta." It had taken him years to come to terms with his name; his last name, that was. The name held too many memories of his father. Of a stallion who believed mares were property and children were disposable. A stallion who fought for blood, not kingdom. A father.. who was never a dad..
He noticed her soft blush and small smile, and couldnt help but return a half grin. Perhaps she wasnt used to compliments- or didnt usually get them. He understood it was tough being a mare in their herd, even if Hira's reign had been made it somewhat easier. And for that, he was sorry. He wished he could apologize for the entirety of his gender, but all he could do was be as welcoming as possible.
Now was not the time to dwell on such, however, they had a spar to get on with. Muiris was not one who usually made the first move, but today was a day of trying new things, it seemed. He gripped his sword tight and with steady hooves he charged the smaller mare, swinging his sword with a flick of his mind. |
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Post by cogaidh on Dec 21, 2016 18:10:41 GMT -6
Òtama
Ah so this stallion was Muiris, a few of her sisters-in-arms had spoken of him; her father had also mentioned him a few times in the short years before his death. He had said the stallion was honorable and accepting of Hira’s changes. Well it was nice to have a face to the name. “I think my father mentioned you a few times in my training,” she commented as she dodged his charge, always nimble on her feet. She had been taught that conversing while sparing was a good way to force her body to react out of instinct. She blocked his swing with her sword feeling the strength of the blow in the stress on her mind.
She slid her sword along his to lock hilts for a moment before whipping the blade around his. Òtama utilized the heavier tip of the blade in a slicing swing, her hooves light on the ground as she danced to the side to circle around Muiris. Her eyes flicked over his stance and footing, ticking over spots she could exploit in the spar. “His name was Sighrik,” her breath was a little short from having trained hard before the spar, but she wasn’t quite winded yet. Her strength was shown by how nimbly she moved the heavy bronze sword in movement patterns. Muiris might have made the first move but she tried to not be completely defensive in this spar, but she kept her guard up always looking for the subtle cues from the stallion to anticipate on what move he would next make.
[WC:263]
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Post by Deleted on Dec 21, 2016 19:34:17 GMT -6
M U I R I S
❅War-Forged Raider❅
Fate whispers to the Warrior
"You cannot withstand the Storm"
the Warrior whispers back
"I am the Storm" The stallion's interest perked as the mare mentioned her father knowing him; that was news to him! He wasnt sure why anyone would be speaking of him, especially if they knew of him during his training days. Nolk had made him sound like he was a softy; couldnt hurt a butterfly and wouldnt even if he could. As far as he was concerned, most were still wary of his skills if they knew him through Nolk.. which meant most who were older than him..
She nimbly dodged his attack, his sword swinging at thin air. He pressed back as her sword met his with a deafening cling! the hilts pressing together for a brief pause, before her sword spun around his, her hooves dancing circles around him. The tip of her sword nearly caught his cheek, the stallion quickly pulling back last moment to dodge. A shiver ran down his spine as he felt the air swoosh across his skin.
Sighrik. That name sure rang a bell. He had to dig deep into his memories, but he could remember that name rolling off his father's tongue.. and not in a pleasant way. Anyone who approved mare's learning or training to fight was basically the devil in his father's book.
He continued to play along the sword, watching her movements carefully to look for any openings. She was unsurprisingly well managed, or maybe he was just a little slower due to his previous work out, but he struggled to find good times to swing. Their swords clashed and rang together.
"My father's name was Cadfael." He replied, ducking under a swing before offering his own. "I dont suppose the two of them knew each other? Small world." He mused with a soft chuckle, pulling his sword closer to him before jabbing the blade in her direction. |
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Post by cogaidh on Dec 24, 2016 2:26:31 GMT -6
Valor is a gift. Those having it never know for sure whether they have it till the test comes. And those having it in one test never know for sure if they will have it when the next test comes. She enjoyed the challenge that Muiris was offering, she had to think hard on how to balance his larger size against her maneuverability. Sweat tricked down her brow and she shook her head a little to keep it from her eyes. Òtama’s pale mane stuck more to her neck and her coat had become darker. She really didn’t know how much longer she could continue the fight, no matter how much she enjoyed the experience. Her sword met with his as they continued to spar. “Well my father did have a higher opinion of females than others of his generation.” She commented as she jumped backwards to avoid his jab, she almost didn’t leap back far enough as she had to parry his thrust quickly. “Actually I know that caused friction between him and many other Raiders.”
She lunged to the left around him, trying to thread her sword past his defenses. Her tail flicked and swung acting as a counter-balance as she nimble moved her hooves over the slick turf. She was starting to feel the weight of her sword and had to focus more on her footing and strikes so as to not slip up. “He was one of the first Raiders to pledge their full support to Hira when she became Warlord. Which didn’t help other’s views of him.” She added as she pulled her sword into a guard position while she looked for an opening. She had definitely gotten a little rusty at spotting advantages in the past two years. Maybe she and Muiris could make this a regular occurrence. Many of the Valkyries were her age or just a little older so an experience Raider as a sparring partner would help her out quite a bit in becoming a better fighter.
Just as she was about to lunge forward with her sword her front hooves slipped out from under her, causing her to stumble and fall to her knees in the turf before she struggled back to her feet. A blush definitely colored her cheeks at such a slip up but she went back to a defensive stance, maybe she should focus on defending for now.
OCC: It's difficult to get up past 300 words, since I have issues keeping from just the facts, but this is great practice ^-^ |
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Post by Deleted on Dec 24, 2016 14:26:33 GMT -6
M U I R I S
❅War-Forged Raider❅
Fate whispers to the Warrior
"You cannot withstand the Storm"
the Warrior whispers back
"I am the Storm" Muiris was not used to sparring with someone so small and agile. He was used to the other raiders; large and powerful like him. He was struggling to keep up with her, but did his best with his fair share of parries and attacks. His own coat was growing dark with sweat, his breath growing more and more heavy as they continued. They were both getting tired, but it was worth holding out for a little bit longer.
His ears flicked forward in curiosity as she mentioned that her father had been a Hira supporter. He hadnt doubted it, seeing as she was a warrior herself, but it was still a nice thing to hear. He gave a nod, swing his weapon only to have it land with a hard blow against hers.
"Ah.. my sire was quite the... traditionalist. I can imagine the two didnt get along all that well. He was quite the opinionated bastard." He replied, his dislike for his father's views evident on his tongue. He still loved the old man, and had fought for him when he had been attacked and killed, but that didnt mean he totally agreed with him. If only he could see me today. He thought with a snort. "Your father was a Raider? Mine was for a while as well, only he made it to become a shield." He paused, a smirk crawling over his features as he blocked an attack, the blade slightly faltering in his grip. "He didnt last long under Hira's rein."
He found his footsteps falling more and more heavy, his thanks rushing to his studded shoes for the extra footing on the soft ground. He noticed her getting ready to pounce and lifted his sword to a defensive position when her hooves suddenly slipped out from underneath her. Thanks to his blessing, Muiris felt her hit the ground like an earthquake, the ground rumbling beneath his hooves and through his bones.
He couldnt help but chuckle. He had been there.
"Getting tired already?" He teased, flicking a strand of loose hair from his face. He held his sword back, the blade sparkling in the sunlight. "We can stop if you need to. No sense in wearing ourselves out before the day's over." WC: 377 | Post #5
Notes: No worries! Just do what you gotta do- shorter posts dont bother me <3 |
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Post by cogaidh on Jan 13, 2017 8:57:44 GMT -6
Valor is a gift. Those having it never know for sure whether they have it till the test comes. And those having it in one test never know for sure if they will have it when the next test comes. She gave a chagrined smile as she lowered her sword, “I have been at this since before dawn… It might be time to take a break.” She slid her sword back into its sheath, shifting her forelegs a little at the lingering pain from hitting the ground. She absently rubbed one cannon against the opposite knee to alleviate some of the sting. While the sparing session was probably over, she would like to continue to converse with the raider, it was good to meet other members of the Warforged who were accepting of the Valkyries.
“My father would often… get into fights with other raiders over some of their views. He wouldn’t start the fights, but he would almost always finish them.” Òtama remembered days when her father would return to their home with injuries he hadn’t left with. He had tried to explain to her why this would happen, he had never lied to her about it. “He never let anyone tell me I couldn’t be a fighter, teaching me how to defend myself verbally from them as well,” not even her mother had been allowed to scold her in her father’s hearing. Kaia she missed him. She turned slightly to take up a water flask so she could take a drink.
Almost all of her mane had escaped the bun so she undid the tie holding the strands in place. Shaking out her pale mane she pulled it back up into a bun to keep it out of the way. She noticed several of the others in the training yard watching them but she decided to ignore them. Nothing made those who hated the Valkyries more mad then the Valkyries having no care of their opinion. It was something that her grandmother had taught her when she was young and other foals made fun of her size.
WC: 309 | Post:5
Sorry for such a late reply, things have... been hectic for me since christmas.
my muse has been quite selective. |
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Post by Deleted on Jan 22, 2017 0:32:42 GMT -6
M U I R I S
❅War-Forged Raider❅
Fate whispers to the Warrior
"You cannot withstand the Storm"
the Warrior whispers back
"I am the Storm" He gave a small grin and a nod when she agreed to a break, making his way back to put the practice sword away. His ears pricked as she spoke up again, glad that she wanted to continue to converse. He didnt want to leave quite yet; he found her intriguing. He didnt know very many Valkyries; in fact, she was the first one to actually take the time to talk to him, even though he had been the one who instigated it.. It was nice to know not every warrior mare thought stallions were the enemy.
“My father was the one who started the fights, im sure. I wouldnt be surprised if the two knew each other quite well..” He mused, chuckling softly to himself. He still loved his father as any son would be expected to, but he still knew he was an ass. A terrible, opinionated ass.
“Your father was very brave, you must be proud of him.” Muiris commented, swiveling on tired hooves as he turned back to look at the painted mule. “He sounds like he was very honorable.” That was more than he could say for his own, anyways. She spoke of her father as he would of his mother; with full adoration and respect. He couldnt help but allow a small smile to find his lips.
His gaze wandered as he noticed a few others in the yard staring at them, his eyes narrowing as he shot them a glare. A few held their stares, but only for a few more moments. It didnt take them long to turn back to what they were doing. Muiris allowed his glare to linger for a little longer, making sure no one turned back. While Otama seemed content ignoring them, Muiris was not one to tolerate their unfair judgements.
“What of your mother?” He asked as he turned his attention back to his partner. “What did she think of your father training you?” He knew most mothers would hate the idea of their little fillies charging into battle, playing a “stallion’s game.” He was honestly curious. |
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Post by cogaidh on Feb 12, 2017 19:01:11 GMT -6
Valor is a gift. Those having it never know for sure whether they have it till the test comes. And those having it in one test never know for sure if they will have it when the next test comes. She shook herself a little to rid her coat of some of the sweat that had accumulated on her flanks. “I am quite proud of my father, he would always go out of his way to protect farmers and merchants from attackers.” She smiled sadly and looked out over the view from the training yard. “He believed it was a warrior’s purpose to protect those who could not protect themselves.” Something he had taught her from a young age. Teachings that had spurred her into her own life as a warrior.
She glanced over at the stallion and noted his glare to the other warriors using the training yard. She smiled a little and was grateful for his defense. She could ignore the looks but it wore on her after a while. Hopefully as the Valkyries proved themselves more the regular Raiders would be more accepting of these new fighters. She sipped at her water to re-hydrate herself, and glanced around the yard from the corners of her eyes. While Muiris’ next question was an innocent one, Òtama paused in her sipping and sighed.
“I don’t really consider my dam to be my mother,” she said plainly, “she’s never really filled that role even when I was still a child.” She kicked at a bit of turf with one hoof as she decided how much to tell her new friend, “She is quite disapproving of my un-feminine interests. I believe, if she could do so without my Granddam’s ire, she would disown me. Though… from our last interaction a year ago, I believe she doesn’t even see me as her child anymore.” She snorted at that and shook her mane to relieve some tension. “Not that I ever saw her as anything other than the jenny that birthed me. And I’m glad I haven’t seen her since then, makes for less hardship that way.”
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Post by Deleted on Mar 31, 2017 20:39:59 GMT -6
 I SPOKE TO THE DEVIL TODAY, AND HE SWEARS HE'S NOT TO BLAME
AND I UNDERSTOOD, CAUSE I FEEL THE SAMEThe stallion's ears pricked at her sigh, immediately wishing he could retract his question. Families could be a tough subject for most, and he hardly knew this mare well enough to be prying. He opened his mouth to apologize, but she cut him off with a rather quick remark. The smallest twinge found his heart as she claimed barely any attachment to her mother. He always struggled to see how a child could resent their own mother, and vice versa, but.. perhaps he was simply missing his too much. Perhaps he was soft.
"I'm sorry to hear that." He finally replied, dipping his head ever so slightly. "Though.. i do not believe that she would disown you. It may not be my place, but perhaps she is worried for you." He spoke softly, his ears shifted back ever so slightly. He had never been great at speaking, but he felt as though he had to at least say what was on his mind.. whether or not she decided to actually take his words to heart was up to her. "Worry and fear can do a lot to a person. She may just not know how to handle it a better way."
He paused, pressing his lips together. "But that is just my thoughts as an outsider. Of course, i do not know your situation in full, but.. maybe that's something to consider."
He reached for his own water as it laid on its side against the ground, taking a small sip before shifting his gaze to the sky briefly. He knew where she was coming from, as Muiris himself had gone through a similar situation with his own father; however, now that his sire was dead, Muiris felt as though he would do anything to have just one more chat with him, even if it wasnt pleasant.
Again, maybe he was just soft. WC: 313 | Post #7
Notes: I am SO sorry for taking ages to get back to you <3
NOTE: turning this in for AP at this point, can continue the rp if wanted
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