[center][img]https://i.imgur.com/kmr93Nj.jpg[/img][/center] [color=CA6F1E]Time: Morning Location: Dugmaghord - The Pit Interactions: Random Orc Mentions: Pâsh[@Alivefalling], Slick [@FunnyGuy], Rosaria [@Potter], Aurora [@Mole] Weapon: [url=https://i.pinimg.com/564x/6e/24/4d/6e244d336101c9a1335c3f5894c3d9f1.jpg]Glaive[/url] with Unbreaking and Returning Charms Armor: Just the clothes on his back Equipment: Lockpicking kit, a small knife, 4 large red potions (1 used in post), and a pouch of amas.[/color] [hider=Purchases During Time Skip] [color=CA6F1E] -Cobalt Glaive -200 amas -Charms; Returning and Unbreaking -200 amas and -600 amas -Lockpicking Kit -70 amas? (idk how much this should be) -Small Knife -6 amas -4 Large Red Potions -6 amas each [color=E20000]Total deduction: -1,100 amas[/color] [/color][/hider] [hr] [color=E0B061][color=E20000]Drip.[/color] [color=E20000]Drip.[/color] The gash above the young catman’s head continued to drop blood into his eyes and even though it stung, amongst all the other pain in his body, it barely registered. His chest rose and fell with heavy breaths. No time to think, he dove away from the swing of the mighty war hammer. Leaf on the Wind was swift on his feet, his energy often had few limitations, and he could outrun an orc, under normal circumstances, any day. Most orcs were slow, predictable, but ruthlessly brutal. It had only taken a couple of good hits from the orc to turn the feline into a bloody mess. Several quick blinks tried in vain to clear the blood from his vision but his grip on the glaive remained tight. His tail flicked with anticipation as he caught the next movement of the orc that towered over him. The orc swung the war hammer again with all his might. Leaf’s ears pinned back and his mouth grinned in a way that showed his blood-coated teeth. Leaf ducked down, rolled forward towards the orc, missing the hammer, and he ended up parallel to the orc just to his left. The glaive that felt like a part of him shot forth, slashing through the back of the orc’s calf just above the foot. The trusty glaive slashed through flesh, the faint and satisfying sound of a pop reached Leaf’s ears, and a small bit of bone was flung loose as a tendon was snapped and severed. More blood mixed with the sand. The orc’s blood. Leaf’s blood. All of it soaked into the sand as the sun beat down upon the two sparing warriors. The orc let out a primal cry of pain and rage, that echoed through the pit and whipped the crowd into a frenzy as the spectators let out a deafening roar at the sight of more bloodshed. The orc swung the injured leg and Leaf went to move but his glaive was now stuck firmly in orc flesh. The orc’s foot collided with his ribcage and Leaf heard and felt the cracking of several ribs as he was kicked to the side. His glaive remained within the orc. The orc’s weight now rested mainly on his other leg, the injured leg toe-touching the ground, and the war hammer was briefly used as a cane to keep the large creature from falling over. Leaf struggled back to his feet, knowing another hit from the orc and it was lights out for the catman. His ears were ringing so loud he couldn’t hear anything else, and blood continued to drop into his eyes making his already blurred vision even more useless. Leaf had learned many things over the last few months. He’d learned that you couldn’t always trust what a pixie’s said and Aurora did not have some form of highly contagious blindness and was, without a doubt, the most genuine and kind creature he’d ever met. He’d learned that sometimes you really could trust orders from some folks and Rosaria wasn’t out here to use people up and toss them aside. He learned that men like Slick, who could lie as easy as breathing could make the most trustworthy of companions. The world was growing darker by the day but those with him here kept the light burning. Most importantly to his current situation, he’d learned that when you fought an orc you didn’t even have to see them, cause you could always smell them clear as day. Especially in the desert. The orc’s scent got stronger, the creature was against the light blow of wind. Leaf spun towards the wind and away from the orc, spitting a mouthful of blood onto the sand as he did so. [color=CA6F1E]“Meliora!”[/color] He shouted the name he’d chosen for the glaive, his every breath already stung, the effort of shouting was almost enough to leave him doubled over but Leaf would not allow it. Not in the pit, not in front of the other orcs. He had to do better, had to be stronger. [color=E20000]Thhwwwaaapppp.[/color]The returning charm did its trick and the glaive ripped itself free from orc flesh with a wet sound and returned itself to Leaf’s outstretched hand. There was no cry from the orc, only angry grunts and snarls as it lumbered about. Orcs were massive creatures, it was hard to miss the feel of heavy thumps their footsteps made against the sand of the pit. In a feat of pure strength, Leaf would never best one, even the smallest of orcs had fists like anvils. So Leaf had to be better, had to use every advantage he had. They were going to war, people would be counting on him and he couldn’t let them down. If Pâsh could go out there and kill a hygora shrimp, and Leaf had damn well heard that story from just about every orc here, then Leaf could finish this fight and he had to do it quickly before the orc knocked him out. Now Pâsh was scary, even without the added shrimp powers, and Leaf would rather chew off his own tail than disappoint the orc chieftain who he knew was bound to be watching the pit fights. Maybe that was all part of Leaf’s problem, when he was around an impressive figure he wanted to be impressive too, and the hard to please the harder Leaf tried. He had to try harder. He had to win this one. He was so close he could taste the victory. As the orc’s footsteps sent clumsy vibrations through the ground, Leaf’s feet dug into the sand, claws outstretched, weight shifting forwards. The massive blurry shape swung again, this time lifting the hammer upwards as the orc was forced to use it as both weapon and crutch. A swift jump out of reach, his feet slid against the sand. Then the glaive shot forwards, driving into the orc’s forearm as the orc swung the hammer back downwards again. A guttural sound that was a mix of a warcry, shock, and pain, burst forth from the orc and broke through the ringing in Leaf’s ears. Leaf opened his mouth and emitted a similar sound, blood and spit spraying from his mouth as well. He ripped the glaive free. More blood splattered the sand. The war hammer fell to the ground as well. Leaf lept forward, the glaive now held between both hands with the staff hitting against the orc's throat. The big guy tumbled backward, hitting the ground with a loud thud with Leaf still atop him and the staff of the glaive still pressing down against the orc's throat. Wide orc eyes stared up at him with fury, bulging almost out of their sockets, as the big guy struggled for air. Some orcs would take the opportunity to kill the weaker, and straggle the air from enemy lungs. Some might also offer a swifter death, Leaf still had the glaive, in a quick second, he could burry the spear tip into the enemy's throat. But the pits were not the war and Leaf was not an orc. [color=CA6F1E]“Yield?”[/color] Leaf asked through gritted teeth. The orc whose color was darkening from the lack of oxygen sputtered a muffled reply. Leaf shifted his weight from the orc’s throat to better hear the reply only to find himself being knocked off the orc. The orc attempted to get back on his feet. Leaf was knocked backward but true to his nature he landed atop his feet with feline grace, spun the glaive, and thrust it towards the orc and where his neck should be. The tip pressed against the orc’s flesh and Leaf held it there. [color=CA6F1E]“Yield or die!”[/color] Leaf did not ask this time. [color=B14405]“Yield.”[/color] The defeated orc said before collapsing back into the sand with a sigh. Leaf let out a sigh of relief, and sunk down to the bloody sand. The adrenalin began to wane, and the pain of every hit took its place. Four months of training with the fiercest race in Avalia. Several weeks of being constantly exhausted trying to keep up with them. Three months of being knocked out by orc fists in pit fights. Countless days earning respect for being able to take hit after hit and bounce back up again. Time and time again every pit fight he’d stepped into had ended in bloody defeat, only for him to try again as soon as he was able. Four months of him learning how to fight in ways he never had before. Today it paid off, today Leaf on the Wind was the victor. The roar of approval from the crowd made it even sweeter. Large red potions were offered to the fighters after they had left the pits to make room for the next fight. With a bit of time the orc would be fine, his pride seemed to have taken the worst injury. As for Leaf, the potion headed up the gash to his head, his vision slowly cleared up, and the overall pain lessened a great deal. His ribs, his well just about everything, still hurt but he’d heal fine, and in time all trace of the beating would be gone. What he had now was well worth it, he’d beaten an orc, something didn’t think he could do four months ago, and that feeling wasn’t going anywhere. His glaive was still held firmly in his hand because just like teeth and claws meant survival in the wilderness, his weapon meant survival both here and in war. He kept it close at all times, always ready, never forgetting the terrible sight he’d seen in the sky of demons and what they could do. They would not get him, they would not get his friends. Once he could move a bit more comfortably, he cleaned the orc blood from it and inspected his glaive for any sign of damage but the unbreaking charm kept it safe. After his glaive was tended to, Leaf cleaned the blood from his fur. Now he could relax, Leaf looked forward to watching more pit fights, studying the way the more seasoned orc’s fought one another. The gurgle deep in his stomach, however, demanded lunch before he could truly relax and enjoy the day's festivities. He groaned with disappointment, getting lunch meant he had to move from where he sat, and right now moving sounded very unrelaxing.[/color]