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Nihil vs Happy FIGHT!

Nihilistic_Impact

Nihilistic_Impact

Brigadista
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Aug 14, 2009
It was late, the last rays of the sun had long set beyond the horizon. The tavern was almost deserted, cast in shadows that wavered and danced across table and wall. The light cast by an oil lamp suspended above a miasma of smoke from the earlier crowd. A light so poor it failed to provide illumination floated in the cloud, it's soft red glow hinting at the outline of a slight feminine form, lips pulling at the burning paper before exhaling smoke.

With a twitch the cigarette rolled to the corner of her mouth, making room for the bottle of murky green glass and it's contents of cheap liquor. The harsh liquid passed her lips and ran down the throat before settling deep in the gullet. She glanced out of the corner of her eye, nothing disturbed her openly; but lurking at the back of her head was a peculiar notion that something was off. A hand strayed warily to the worn leather wrapped grip of a flanged mace.

It's weight was re-assuring and ever present; designed to stove in plate armour rending the weak flesh bare, or tearing the links of chain asunder. Girded as she was she was also protected by the maille coat concealed beneath her tabard.

Violence hung heavy in her mind and her body tensed in preparation for the carnage that was to come.
 
[Una Thurnwal]
(Stole this character from a previous role play -grins-)

With a triumphant roar from a small crowded table, a woman rose to stand above them. Clenched fists raised high above her head, she urged the crowd on as chants of praise pulsed through the room. "THOSE WHO DARE CHALLENGE ME WILL ALWAYS SUFFER THE SAME FATE! I AM UNDEFEATED!" The woman cried out over the cheers, her obnoxious head rearing back as she accepted her glory. Below her a man burst from the crowd, his left arm cradeling what appeared to be his shattered right arm, the look of utter shame upon his brow confirming his defeat to the ego on legs standing upon the table.

Her lips forming a wry grin she began to pace around the table, eyeing off all the patrons in the musky old tavern. "Is there another poor soul who wishes to take on the undefeated Una?! Step forward and prepare to meet your maker!" Una bellowed out to the eager crowd, their excited faces following her glances as they waited for another challenger to emerge.
 
There it was, nasty, brutish and far too long on the stupid. The woman aped the aspect of a warrior, braying and screeching her prowess; it made Siena chortle. Barking her laughter Siena found her tongue while eyeing her left hand; inspecting how her pinky and ring finger were chopped at the second knuckle. They had been lost, in a similar pursuit to the one she was about to enter upon. The adventure and thrill of martial combat was always a good agent provocateur to her blood.

With a thud of her booted foot Siena rose to her feet, grabbing the bottle with her left hand and bringing her mace up to rest on her shoulder with the right. Half laugh, half challenge she spit the words from her mouth:

"I'll take you; but what you going to wager?"

At ease with her surroundings she casually raised her drink and mouthed the last gulps of alcohol; her mind racing with anticipation for the climax of blood.
 
"You?!" Una sneered, her upper lip curling in disgust as the newest challenger stepped forward "You're barely sober enough to topple a cow, old woman! What makes you think you can take me?!". The crowd snickered at her remark, their eyes focused on the challenger, judging her and quietly whispering to each other. Taking a step back, Una gave a bit of a start as she lunged herself from the table, coming down onto the floor with a loud, shaky thud. Sticking out her chin she straightened herself up and looked the woman dead in the eye, her upper lip still curled. "I am not one to shy away from a challenge, even one that is a stinking drunk" She huffed, pulling a leather pouch from her belt she raised it up into the air and shook it to reveal the metal pieces clanking around inside. "Five hundred gold pieces to the victor and a life time of shame to the loser" Una grinned as she strapped the leather pouch back onto her belt. "What say you?"
 
In better lighting the casual observer would be able to note that Siena wore a chequered tabard of black and green, sleeveless with the left shoulder clasps loose, revealing the chain maille shirt beneath, under which was worn a short sleeve gambeson. Sweat encrusted, fingerless leather gloves adorned her hands; revealing how four fingers had been badly mauled at some time in the past.

The edges of a tattoo peaked above her clothes at her neck, thin wisps of some unseen design chasing up the jugular. Coins jingled around her neck, Siena's wealth on display. Her hair was dirty and pulled back tightly at the back of her head.

Siena was caked in the dirt of past adventures; mud and blood stained her. Worn boots rode up to her knees and clacked metal on metal as sabatons covered the tops of her feet, shodding them in additional protective measures. Belts cinched at her waist held what few personal belongings the woman carried, along with a knife to use for the real enclose, dirty work.

Standing before Una the petite five foot, eight inch woman just nodded her head. Stepping into close range, bringing the mace head up and down on her shoulder. Tapping out a rhythm of violence.
 
Exhaling through her nose with an amused huff, Una shoved her hands down by her sides, her hands grasping the leather handles of her iron knuckles as she wrenched them off her belt. Raising her hands to the level of her eye she took her stance, feet firmly planted into the ground she gave a nod of her head.

With excited whispers the crowd dispersed out along the walls of the taverns, eager to watch, but fearful of getting caught in the blood shed. The strength of the two women glowering at each other seemed to send a thrilling pulse through the room. Each of the on lookers holding their breath as they awaited the first blow.

"Don't keep me waiting, old hag" Una spat, her eyes narrowing in to vicious slits.
 
"...hag."

Siena hadn't paid attention to Una's words, just the tone; waiting for the inflection to drop to signify the end of niceties. She was in striking range, her nostrils flared with a quick intake of air, her eyes widened as adrenalin began to course through her blood, her left arm with bottle still gripped came up in a defensive stance, guarding her face and chest. Leading with her left foot she brought her weapon up and around with a roll of her wrist to bring it to bare upon the barbarian's left hip, a blow that could crush bone if one wasn't too careful.

For added measure Siena finally expelled the alcohol she'd held in her mouth, spitting it into her foe's face, with a war cry. Dirty tricks and low cunning were the only reasons the woman still lived.
 
The woman’s blow came swiftly, Una braced herself, but it was of no use. The large weapon connected with her side and Una was swatted away as if she were a mere insect. To add to her humiliation a mouthful of alcohol splattered across her face as she stumbled from the impact. With a pained groan Una collided into a group of onlookers, causing the crowd to scream and disperse from the tavern. The promise of a good fight not worth the shattered bones sticking around might entail.

Pulling herself up from the ground Una pressed a hand to her side, the muscles sore and significantly bruised, but nothing appeared to be broken. An amused noise escaping her nose Una lunged forward, her right leg shooting up into the air she brought it down against the crook of the woman’s neck, hoping to break her stance before side stepping around her and driving her iron knuckle into the woman’s left shoulder in an attempt to pop it out of alignment.
 
Steady eyes tracked their target, the physical form followed suit. Back leg swinging as the left leg acted as a pivot, keeping the pugilist Una in her fore ground. Siena was ready, waiting for what the woman would do; reserved and comfortable in the knowledge that she could weather any blow.

When it finally came Siena's eyes narrowed and their was the twitch of a grin on her impassive face. The kick leapt out, aimed high on her body. It landed with sudden force, not upon an unprotected neck; but the raised guard of woman's arm and shoulder. Spreading the impact over a larger area, even as the veteran warrior visibly sunk beneath the weight of it, her vertebrae, hips, knees and ankles compressing like a spring.

Like any spring, it could only be constrained for so long. The tension built and was loosed as Siena lunged from her rear leg, dropped her murky green bottle and lifted Una's leg high as she threw her right shoulder into the woman.

Potentially sending both women to the ground while leaving Siena's open to wayward punches.
 
"Fuck!" Una cursed loudly as her maneuver was halted by the brute's grip on her leg. Gripping tight onto the woman's messy locks of hair Una drove her fist down into the top of her head. The metal of her weapon colliding with the top of Siena's skull before rearing back and landing a blow to the side of her head. Her other hand yanking at the woman's hair she wrenched her head backwards so she could attempt a blow to her chin as they fell against a set of chairs. The flimsy wood splintering on impact, their bodies sprawled upon the ground Una moved fast to bring herself up and pin Siena's arms beneath her knees. Spitting to the side Una began to relentlessly pound into Siena's brow, her iron knuckles digging hard into her flesh and bone with every strike. "You're pretty impressive for a drunken old hag" Una hissed, forcing a harsh punch to Siena's throat before jumping backwards, giving her time to stand once more.
 
A curse sworn in haste wormed it's way into Siena's head moments before an armoured fist began to rend flesh. Digging into her scalp, drawing blood and tearing at the ear. The women had crashed into a table before dropping to the floor in a chaotic sprawl of limbs.

Straw soaked with cheep beer and vomit assaulted Siena's senses as her brain rattled in her skull, disorientating the woman. Still she held to her foe, shoulder pressed tight to Una's chest, head tucked in to protect it as much as she could. Her weapon was trapped though between the two bodies, it's deadly weight useless in the press.

There was only one option as black and red crept into the corner of her eyes. A quick punch to the groin with all the might Siena could muster.
 
Una gave a winded grunt as the woman below her drove her fist between her legs, causing her to buckle and roll backwards. Staggering away, Una gripped onto a table, a hand nursing her injured side as a smirk pulled at her lips "If I were a man you would have won this battle". Snatching up a pitcher of ale from the table Una chugged as much as she could before stopping for breath and slamming the container back down. Stumbling forward she huffed a sigh then cracked her neck, her arms back up in a defending position as she retook her stance.
 
Barking back laughter Siena looked past her foe, breathing heavily her shoulders rose and fell with a steady rhythm. She was tensed yet loose, prepared yet open, her eyes showed an unfocused awareness that drew in the whole of the room. Siena brandished her mace, arm cocked back for a lethal swing.

"You're not so bad."

Terse words, spat out with blood and spittle. As it fell to the floor she burst from her spot, swinging not for any of Una's body mass; but instead aiming for the woman's raised arms. She intended to break the woman down, part by part, limb by limb.
 
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