Combat Training {OPEN}

[syla brenzen]

~SYLA BRENZEN~

Pain shot through her right shoulder -- again. Stumbling backwards, she brought her left hand up to her neck, splaying her fingers over the rapidly swelling bruise in an attempt to shield herself from further attacks, but it was useless, similar in futility to trying to defend oneself from a sword with a piece of string. Her adversary struck this time at her thighs, and there was a dull, hollow 'thwump' as the bokan connected with the side of her knees, the impact causing her to collapse. Falling heavily on her rear, she tried to use her weapon for support, but it was too late to break her fall, and she felt the damp floor press against her back for the third time that sparring session, the wet seeping through her tight, low cut training top.

Syla groaned as she stared up at the sky, attempting to block out the cheers of the gathered onlookers, the congratulations offered to her bigger, stronger and better trained opponent by their master, instead focusing on how badly her neck hurt, and how much she wanted to give in. Combat training was not one of her favored classes. She thought herself brain, not brawn, and her lanky figure was hardly built to withstand the onslought of a slightly overweight, aggressive female twice her size. Her coach shouted something at her, but it was lost among her other thoughts, and it was only when the frumpy woman had strode up to her and lodged a firm kick in her ribs she responded.
'Listen Miss Brenzen, third time you've lost against Miss Krayne over there, how about you just forfeit, and choose a slightly easier opponent, perhaps someone from a lower grade?'
The question was asked with impatience, mixed with not so subtle hints of sarcasm.
Looking up at the tough old witch, Syla pushed herself up a little, and grimmaced, speaking in a low and quiet mumble.
'Doesn't matter who I fight, I'm going to lose anyway.'

The womans hand shot to Syla's arm, and dragged her to her feet without any care for the injuries she had sustained.
'Look Syla, you have to beat two opponents before I can pass you and you can forget coming to these compulsary classes. You're getting beaten black and blue each week, and it won't be long before that pale skin of yours is a constant bruise. All you have to do is knock two people down. Any two. And lets face it, you'd rather be elsewhere, and I'd rather get a talented student.'
Sighing, Syla nodded a little.
'Now pick up your bokan, and lets try again shall we? Unless you want to forefit, and choose a different opponent next week?'

Shaking her head, she stooped a little and wrapped her long fingers around the bandaged hilt of the wooden training weapon, and looked across the field. She had no idea why she'd picked the biggest, nastiest witch in the section, but she had been beaten by a different girl each session, and she had wanted to give everyone a turn. It must be nice to get one certain win each class.

Rising, she nearly fell back to the floor as her familiar, Nullec, appeared at her shoulder from out of the blue, startling her.
'Nul! What have I told you about doing - that!'
A wry smile on his face, he shrugged a little.
'I apologize Syla. No harm intended. Sometimes I just forget the orders you bark at me.'
Glaring at him, she twizzled the training blade in her hand in a lazy manner, any skill that would have been shown in the action lost in her obvious unease.
'What do you want Nul?'
Leaning into her ear, he lowered his voice to a whisper.
'To help you win.'
Eyes widening, she raised an eyebrow.
'You know the rules! We aren't allowed familiars aid while sparring.'
'I won't be aiding you Sy. Look, the people who spar here are focused on one thing, their weapons. I've seen very few use their...other talents...'
'Magic? It's frowned upon you...'
'It may be frowned upon, but there is nothing clearly stating it's prohibited. So people will mumble terrible rumors about you, not that you aren't already used to that...'
'Shut up....'
'Just think about it. Use a little...skill...and you might actually get out of this class and be able to concentrate on somethig else. Afterall, Miss Krayne is...magically retarded. There is a reason for her size and boy-like nature...'
With that, he seemed to fade out, appearing a few meters away with the other gathered familiars, watching their mistresses beat each other down with wooden poles.

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'You ready to fall on your skinny ass again you Coventry whore?'
Standing almost face to face with Breen Krayne was a remarkably daunting task, and it was made all the more difficult with the knowledge that in a few seconds Coach Rai would blow her whistle, and the near 7' brutish man-girl-thing would come at her, wooden pole swinging with a surprisingly deft accuracy.

Clutching her own weapon tightly, as if it were a life line, Syla gulped, and closed her eyes for a moment, praying to some non-existant higher power that she'd be able to last at least a few seconds, and escape any blows to the face or body. She knew at heart she'd have no such luck.

As the whistle sounded, Breen advanced with a mighty roar, similar to that of a bear, and swung her wooden block at Syla's head. Barely able to lift her own blade in time, it was nearly knocked from her hands, but the blow was narrowly deflected, giving Syla a moment to step back and find her feet. She wasn't in that much of a better position, but she flicked her sword out, hoping to catch the big girl in her thighs, but the attack was predicted, and Breen swatted Syla away easily, and jumped forward, battering the slim girl with her shoulder. Tumbling back, she let out a squeel, and dropped her sword into the mud, and watched with unabashed horror as Breen kicked it away.

Gulping, she knew she'd lost, and it didn't take long before the remarkably dim opponent came to a similar conclusion. Grin plastered to her face, she approached Syla slowly, no need to rush. She clearly wanted to enjoy watching the smaller weaker girl quaking in her boots. Syla's amber eyes flashed between her disgarded weapon and the advancing monster, and Nullec's advice ran through her head. Magic. Despite her want to fit in, she didn't, and getting beating to a pulp wouldn't change that. A few moments of thought later, she'd made her mind up. As the wooden blade whistled toward her head, Syla dropped herself beneath the attack, and rolled away, reaching out and clasping the hilt of her dropped bokan.

Stumbling to her feet, she faced Breen's attack full on, the bull-like woman rushing her, and concentrating hard, Syla tugged on the Ley line. Jumping forward, her slim body was hurled skyward, and mid-flight, she dropped down behind the charge, and delivered one swift blow to the back of the other girls head, and she fell face first into the mud.

A strange silence followed the move, and all that could be heard was Syla's heavy panting, her breath leaving her body as white phantoms. Behind her, Coach Kai placed a hand on her shoulder, and squeezed gently.

'Might be hope for you yet girl...Lets see how you manage against your second opponent...Any takers?'

OOC; Anyone hop in! It's not the most fantastically written opening post in the world, so I apologize in advance, but it shall have to do. Anyone who wants a little experience inthe whole combat writing side of the site, this is a thread for you, and hopefully we can help shed light on the whole dueling process, from the attack system to the admins/moderators judging. Only massively important piece of information is this - all fighters are using wooden swords.