"HAW! Watch out Trevvis, you may get burned again!"
"She fought well, as I am sure you will." Jadid bows quickly and goes straight for a grapple, no strike.
The two come together in a flurry of limbs. Trevvis is talented, but Jadid's training simply beats out the mercenary leader. Jadid spins around and wraps his limbs around Trevivis's arms and pinning his neck down in a full nelson.
Jadid applies pressure. "You are too used to your objects."
Trevvis gasps as Jadid pulls his muscles taut.
The mercenary leader struggles to free himself, but the monk has him locked in tight.
"The body is both soft but hard. Knowledge and training shows you how to decide."
"GRAAAHHH!" Trevvis yowls in pain as he flops in Jadid's arms. The monk, quite, simply, is a tree rooting the mercenary leader in place.
The other mercenaries have stopped throwing down their coins and their cheering and laughter has subsided to a slow murmur.
Jadid simply keeps the hold. "Submit?"
Trevvis is red-faced and sweating profusely. He struggles in Jadid's grip but his legs find no purchase on the dusty ground.
"Stupid... Scarred... HRPMH... Not... Let GO!"
Gerber looks over to see the mercenaries watching the battle, a little wide-eyed at seeing their leader so helpless. "Enough, Sand Snake! Hold!" Gerber yells in Imperial, concerned about the sentiment growing in the mercs.
Jadid lets go, but stands watchfully. "You fight with great talent. I am certain your weapons are deadly. I . . .hope I have not overstepped bounds. This has been my life since I was a babe. I wished only to practice with other students of combat."
Gerber walks over and helps the mercenary leader up. "Just go to bed, now, Sand Snake. I'll smooth it out."
"In what language, northerner?" Jadid offers his own hand as well. "I think we can teach each other things, my friends. Life is not only combat, though I can teach what I know."
The mercenary looks extremely unsteady on his feet as he struggles to catch his breath.
"Piss off," he snaps, butting elbows with Jadid as he walks toward his bedroll.
"Don't pay him any mind," one of the mercenaries says quietly (Jadid thinks it's Akram). "It's been a while since anyone has trounced him so thoroughly."
"Besides," says one of the female mercs. "You won us some coin against him."
The other mercenaries slap Jadid on the back. The mercenary next to Gerber nudges Gerber and smiles giving him a thumbs up.
Gerber just purses his lips and nods.
"I meant no offense," JAdid says to Gerber. "Perhaps I can teach you the language of the sands in exchange for knowledge of your ways? Until then, let us drink. At least these are not Imam's shouting their lies.”
"Now, who here is an expert in this . . .Hanaan's piss? For though my body has been burned many times, my gut has never burned with such fire."
"This one just about finished it off I think," one points toward Gerber. "But we have another-"
The entrance of Almah's tent flies open suddenly. She looks over the camp.
"Get. To. Sleep."
The camp goes quiet as Almah looks over the camp. Garavel walks out after her.
"These people were hired to do a job. I will not have you weakening them unnecessarily."
She looks toward Garavel. "See if those three are done with that creature. It's the middle of the night and that thing has barely stopped screaming."
"Everyone else get to bed. Now. First thing in the morning your playmates have work to do."
"It is like I am in the temple," Jadid sighs. "always someone to say when to sleep."
Gerber gets the idea and wordlessly returns to his cot. Those watching cannot discern how he feels about Jadid.
Dima is halfway through describing her life at the desert Oasis her tribe called home before her family moved to the markets of Rashadar, to the camel drivers when Almah gives the command to quieten down. She bids them a fond fairwell and beds down, watching the flames for a while.
Kashif finds a dark nook between pack and bedroll to watch over his mistress.
"She fought well, as I am sure you will." Jadid bows quickly and goes straight for a grapple, no strike.
The two come together in a flurry of limbs. Trevvis is talented, but Jadid's training simply beats out the mercenary leader. Jadid spins around and wraps his limbs around Trevivis's arms and pinning his neck down in a full nelson.
Jadid applies pressure. "You are too used to your objects."
Trevvis gasps as Jadid pulls his muscles taut.
The mercenary leader struggles to free himself, but the monk has him locked in tight.
"The body is both soft but hard. Knowledge and training shows you how to decide."
"GRAAAHHH!" Trevvis yowls in pain as he flops in Jadid's arms. The monk, quite, simply, is a tree rooting the mercenary leader in place.
The other mercenaries have stopped throwing down their coins and their cheering and laughter has subsided to a slow murmur.
Jadid simply keeps the hold. "Submit?"
Trevvis is red-faced and sweating profusely. He struggles in Jadid's grip but his legs find no purchase on the dusty ground.
"Stupid... Scarred... HRPMH... Not... Let GO!"
Gerber looks over to see the mercenaries watching the battle, a little wide-eyed at seeing their leader so helpless. "Enough, Sand Snake! Hold!" Gerber yells in Imperial, concerned about the sentiment growing in the mercs.
Jadid lets go, but stands watchfully. "You fight with great talent. I am certain your weapons are deadly. I . . .hope I have not overstepped bounds. This has been my life since I was a babe. I wished only to practice with other students of combat."
Gerber walks over and helps the mercenary leader up. "Just go to bed, now, Sand Snake. I'll smooth it out."
"In what language, northerner?" Jadid offers his own hand as well. "I think we can teach each other things, my friends. Life is not only combat, though I can teach what I know."
The mercenary looks extremely unsteady on his feet as he struggles to catch his breath.
"Piss off," he snaps, butting elbows with Jadid as he walks toward his bedroll.
"Don't pay him any mind," one of the mercenaries says quietly (Jadid thinks it's Akram). "It's been a while since anyone has trounced him so thoroughly."
"Besides," says one of the female mercs. "You won us some coin against him."
The other mercenaries slap Jadid on the back. The mercenary next to Gerber nudges Gerber and smiles giving him a thumbs up.
Gerber just purses his lips and nods.
"I meant no offense," JAdid says to Gerber. "Perhaps I can teach you the language of the sands in exchange for knowledge of your ways? Until then, let us drink. At least these are not Imam's shouting their lies.”
"Now, who here is an expert in this . . .Hanaan's piss? For though my body has been burned many times, my gut has never burned with such fire."
"This one just about finished it off I think," one points toward Gerber. "But we have another-"
The entrance of Almah's tent flies open suddenly. She looks over the camp.
"Get. To. Sleep."
The camp goes quiet as Almah looks over the camp. Garavel walks out after her.
"These people were hired to do a job. I will not have you weakening them unnecessarily."
She looks toward Garavel. "See if those three are done with that creature. It's the middle of the night and that thing has barely stopped screaming."
"Everyone else get to bed. Now. First thing in the morning your playmates have work to do."
"It is like I am in the temple," Jadid sighs. "always someone to say when to sleep."
Gerber gets the idea and wordlessly returns to his cot. Those watching cannot discern how he feels about Jadid.
Dima is halfway through describing her life at the desert Oasis her tribe called home before her family moved to the markets of Rashadar, to the camel drivers when Almah gives the command to quieten down. She bids them a fond fairwell and beds down, watching the flames for a while.
Kashif finds a dark nook between pack and bedroll to watch over his mistress.