The bigger they are. . . [attn: Bella and Lysira]

[Roan]

Bastian

Bastian ducked the incoming swing, took a quick side-step and pushed his fellow Drin back over his hip, and onto the ground. The Drin wasn’t ready to give in yet, and swept Bastian’s feet out from under him. Both were back on their feet without hesitation, and Bastian laughed his deep, rumbly laugh, “Timon, are you holding back on me? I’m barely breaking a sweat.”

Timon smirked, “You like showing off for the Novices. That’s fine. You’ll be the one dumped on your arse in the end, Bas. You may be bigger but I’m quicker.” In truth, Timon wasn’t that much smaller than Bastian, but the size difference was hard to miss.

Laughing, Bastian countered, “I’m not the one running around with my shirt off. I think you are the one trying to impress the ladies, though you’ll have to do better, me thinks.”

Timon didn’t hesitate as he charged, hoping to tackle Bastian, but the bigger Drin side-stepped as he grabbed Timon’s arm and twisted it behind the man’s back. A second later, he had Timon in a choke hold. He laughed once more, “As I said, you will have to do better.” He started to ease Timon to the ground when his fellow Drin tapped out. Bastian released him, “Nice try though.”

“I will beat you, Bastian. One day, I will beat you,” Timon replied as he went to retrieve his shirt and walked away, looking a bit dejected.

Looking around at some of his other classmates in his unarmed class, “Who wants to practice with me?” After a few seconds, no one came forward, “What? No one? I’m not that bad. . .or good, I guess.” He couldn’t help the smirk, nor did he quite realize how cocky he was coming across to those who were looking on. To the big Drin, he was just having a bit of fun.

[Bella]

"I will."

The voice was male, but the one who stepped forward from the semi-circle of onlookers was a woman.

She was short--very short--standing at least four hands shorter than the trainee who had called the challenge. She had long black hair securely back in a braid, though several small curls had escaped around her face, and unnaturally large, unnaturally black eyes. They glinted with amusement as if pieces of obsidian as she came to the front of the crowd. She stood without intimdation or worry, only that amusement.

Her clothes did nothing to show her rank. Judging by her face, she was probably somewhere in her thirties...though one never could tell around here.

"I'm always game for a way to pass some time," she 'said.' Her hands flashed in the signs as a young man standing at the edge of the crowd, who knew who she was all too well but wasn't going to say anything, translated the signs for her.

[Roan]

Bastian looked around to the man speaking, but he wasn’t the one who stepped forward. Between him and the speaker, just off to the side a bit, was a woman who stood significantly shorter than Bastian. He watched as she signed, and the man spoke. Some of what she signed was familiar but her hands moved to fast for him to ‘understand.’ What he did know was that she was taking him up on the offer to spar.

The much larger Drin didn’t recognize who stood before him, but he also knew those in the Yards generally knew how to handle themselves. Still. . .she was a lot smaller than him. He raised both brows, but gave a broad smile, “You want a way to pass the time, and you want to spar with me?”

Someone in the small crowd that was gathered called out, “Careful, Bas.”

He ignored the warning. What was there to be careful about? He’d already shown he knew how to handle himself against the other Drin he’d been taking the unarmed class with, and while he knew there were those with more experience, he tended to be a quick learner, or at least that’s what he thought.

Tilting his head slightly, he nodded, “Alright. Let’s do this. Any ground rules before we begin?”

[Bella]

Lysira's onyx gaze took in all of the big man before her. The look of surprise in his eyes as he looked her over told her in an instant that he didn't know who she was. It wasn't that she considered herself a celebrity of the Grey Tower, but she had been here for a long time and trained many. She was known.

But not, apparently, by him. That amused her.

It was going to make this particularly interesting, as well.

She took a few steps closer to him, rolling up her sleeves without hurry, revealing forearms that were corded with slender muscle, tanned from the sun, and covered in various scars. Once she had, she signed and the trainee who had translated for her moments ago was willing to do so again. "Don't die," they said and she flashed an almost wicked grin.

With that said, her body shifted like water back into an easy defensive unarmed posture.

[Roan]

Bastian studied his new opponent, and the way she carried herself. She carried herself as a warrior would, but that wasn’t surprising given they were in the Warder Yards. She held a quiet confidence about her as she rolled up her sleeves. The grin she flashed just before she settled into a defensive stance caused Bastian to do a double take, but it was gone as quickly as it appeared.

Arching a brow as he smirked slightly, he nodded towards her, “Don’t die. Got it. Pretty sure that’s the goal every day.” He settled into a centered stance as he looked her over. There was no hint of weakness in her stance, and nothing suggestive of an opening.

Behind the woman, Timon was pulling his shirt on, and looked to Bastian with a smirk, “This is going to be worth being late to my next class, Bastian. You don’t know who she is, do you?”


Bastian looked to Timo and laughed, “What? Me dumping you on your back wasn’t punishment enough? You want to scrub pots for the Mistress of Kitchens? That’s what the Mistress of Training has been handing out as punishment of late. There’s nothing to see here. Just two members of the Warder Yards sparring.”

Just about five feet separated the Drin from Lysira, and he closed the gap with two quick strides. The man grabbed her wrist as he moved his leg nearest her behind her and then attempted to push her back over his hip, in an effort to get her off of her feet and onto the ground.

[Bella]

Lysira stayed perfectly still, but not tense. Her form was easy, almost casual, but her eyes were active and intense. His legs were long and she knew he'd eat up the ground between them in an instant, but his form was rough. His shoulders and feet telegraphed his intent and she picked up on the signs fairly easily.

Her own body did not give away her intentions.

When his big hand wrapped around her small wrist, she waited just until his leg moved. Before he could push her back, which with their size disparity would have put her shoulders more than her back over his hip, she lifted the arm he held and spun under it. Her wrist twisted in his grip, breaking it at the thumb, and she elbowed him in the gut--just pulling the hit--before finishing the turn and moving away from him.

She danced back a couple of steps, resuming her defensive posture as she looked over her opponent. Lysira chose to not move in for the offensive...yet.

[Roan]

Bastian grunted with the elbow to the gut, though part of him suspected it was at a fraction of the woman’s actual strength. Behind him, he heard Timon barking a laugh, “Already worth it, Bastian. I’ll happily scrub pots. Have you caught on yet?”

The bigger Drin ignored his peer as he looked over his opponent once more. She moved with a grace he’d seen in most of the Gaidin and maybe a few Ji’val and perhaps only the odd Drin. Her clothing should have been the give away. Drin and Ji’val wore uniforms, she did not. He was sparring with a Gaidin, and one who had a cat like grace that would make him look like a Trolloc walking across ice compared to her.

The corner of his lips twitched into a slight smirk as he gave a silent snort of a laugh. So it’s like that? he thought to himself. He had a sinking feeling he’d bitten off more than he could chew with this one, and she was going to make a point of showing him as much.

Sinking down to lower his center of gravity, he shuffled forward again, though he wasn’t going to try and flip her over his hip. He had a longer reach than she did, but his size was as much of a disadvantage as an advantage. He feinted with his right fist, and then came in with an upper-cut with his left, deciding to take a slightly more conservative approach for his second pass.

[Bella]

His eyes suggested that he had finally realized he was not up against another trainee now. That was good, at least. A part of her--a very small part in a very small woman--had felt a little bad about this was going to turn out, but it was a very quiet part as well... Ego was a dangerous thing for a Gaidin to have. There was always someone scarier out there.

And they did not always look as scary as they were. And that was the lesson this young man was about to learn.

Those big, impossible-to-not-see shoulders were still giving him away. The feint wasn't bad, and someone with less life-and-death combat experience probably would have fallen for it. But Lysira... Well, she had far, far, far more of that experience than one person should ever have. Dating back to...well, being a tinier mute child long before she was a tiny mute woman.

As the left fist came up, she shifted her weight back with a single step. This swung her body from defensive to offensive, and moved her just enough out of the way to not get hit. That was all you needed, after all. Too many young fighters overcompensated, when economy was the name of the game.

With his left arm still extended for the hit, she put her weight on her right foot and kicked with her left. She lowered her center slightly, kicking a bit up as well as in, her foot headed for his lower abdomen.

[Roan]

Learning to fight was a very different beast to actually fighting, even if that fight was an unarmed spar. Everyone had their strengths and weaknesses. Bastian knew all too well his size was both a blessing and a curse, though to date, it’d been a blessing. The tiny powerhouse of a woman he found himself sparing with was showing him how much of a weakness it could be.

The Drin realized his mistake far too late, when he’d already over-extended himself. He knew enough to keep his center of gravity low, and also to keep a wide stance, but by over-extending, and her added kick to his abdomen countered all of this and he found himself off balance. Someone was laughing in the background, and Bastian knew it to to be Timon. He hadn’t learned how to tune others out and focus on the task at hand. The distraction only added to his awkwardness in that moment.

The basics of his unarmed seemed to vanish from his mind as Bastian let instinct guide him and grabbed for the woman’s leg as she kicked. The momentum of the kick, and him already being off balance meant he soon found himself falling backwards, but he wasn’t about to let go of the leg if he could help it.

He couldn’t help it. His own sense of self preservation won out and just before he hit the deck, he let go, his body slamming into the ground with an audible thud as a cloud of dust went up around him.

[Bella]

The big hand grasped her leg, but she was prepared.

It wasn't that Lysira knew he would try to grab her leg, or knew that he would succeed--she was not a foreteller--but she was a Gaidin, and that meant being prepared for every eventuality that one could conceive of. And in the case of a warder, to conceive of them very quickly and plan counters just as quick.

His grabbing her leg, of course, was an easy and obvious eventuality to think of. By the time he reached for it, her foot was already moving away from his stomach but he managed to get a hand on her. But, he was also already falling. So, she rode the momentum with him and pushed her body forward.

By the time he let go of her leg, she kept her trajectory...right up until the moment that his arse was in the dust and her foot was on his abdomen. She didn't put all of her weight on that foot, but some of it as she used him just a little bit as a springboard and threw herself forward. Hitting the ground with her hands, rolling, and coming back up to her feet.

She spun, but froze. Her body moved back to defensive posture, watching to make sure that the big trainee hadn't hurt himself in the fall.