Fantasy A Harmony of Spear and Soul {Closed to LuvDragon}

[BluJaq]

~In the Quiet, misty morning when the moon has gone to bed…~

The kingdom of Aeteba was roaring with life. As the competitions approached all was fire and bustle. Distant champions arrived from far off lands alongside local legends, all assembled with the same dream. That, under the eclipse, they would claim the right to ride the legendary beast, a dragon.

~When the Sparrow stops it’s singing and the sky is clear and red~!

Knights in shining armor rode through the streets, distant sultans arrived astride elephants, the raid-boats of vikings rested like grand whales in the harbor, and every child in the city fell to their knees at the majesty the world could truly offer. So strange then, that a little bird could cause such a stir.

~When the Summer’s ceased it’s gleaming and the corn is past it’s prime~

It began, as so many things do, with a simple story. The handsome young man sat astride the rim of a fountain, entertaining a few children with a grand tale of conquest, romance, tragedy and betrayal. As he described the glistening red of blood and banners they sat starry eyed about him. When he spoke of the grand conqueror and his army, a group of troublesome teens joined in. At the mention of the waiting lady, who in the face of such slaughter had never surrendered, many a man and woman slowed to listen. When the bird mentioned romance? The crowd drew nearly still.

~When Adventure’s lost its meaning I’ll be homeward bound in time~

His enchanting voice and glittering eyes held them occupied nearly an hour as he told his epic tale! The Sparrow rose to glorious crescendo, saturating the very soul with glorious emotion as he described the army’s mighty strength and glorious triumph. As he told of all that was lost, his voice quieted, an ominous edge more unsettling than any knife pricking his listeners. When he described the way the conquering lord and the governess unbroken fell for each other, despite war, crime, and fate itself dancing between them, his crowd nearly needed lean in, entranced by each word.

~Bind me not to the pasture! Chain me not to the plow!~

The story ended with betrayal, and perhaps, a seed of new hope. A child born with the coming of spring, one that could unite two countries and… Just perhaps, two lost lovers. Warmth and comfort filled the hearts of those lucky enough to stay the whole way on that fine Summer’s day, and then the dancing began…

~Set me free! To find my calling, and I’ll return to you somehow~

When the young men and women didn’t recognize the steps they were shown, the songbird rallied some street musicians, tipping them to carry a beat. He sang the song he danced the steps, and before the end, his crowd had joined in!

~Oh if you find it’s me you’re missing, if you’re hoping I’ll return~!

Sparrow had bursted through the doors of shops all up and down the street, wild heart soaring on wings born of the songspeech. Each restaurant was told to open their doors, it was going to be an amazing day for business! When they saw the parade his charisma had assembled in the courtyard beyond, they were quick to listen.

~To your thoughts I’ll soon be listening, and in the road I’ll stop and turn...~

It was on these celebrations Zoya Willows stumbled in the late evening. It was all so… Beautiful! Dancers moved in ways she had never seen, the songs filled the air like she had never heard! The joy, pure and blissful, was so contagious not a person could keep a smile from their face from block and blocks away! Then, in a moment of inspiration, through the din of the crowd… She saw him.

~Then the wind will set me racing as my journey nears it’s end!~

It was as though all the energy the kingdom’s greatest night had come from that smile. Sitting, relaxed as a king on his throne, on the lip of the fountain was one of the world’s great champions, and gods… He looked the part. Feathery blonde hair lit like fire beneath the burnished lamplight, and bronze skin could have been gold! Eyes of amber caught each light from every star and it spilled out from between his lips. Delicate tattoos accentuated his toned athleticism, the boy, (Zoya’s own age!) looked like something sent from heaven. The whole evening was something of the heavens, and his voice would haunt the kingdom for years to come.

~And the Path I’ll be retracing as I’m homeward bound again...~

/One Week Later/

Gladiators sparred on the tournament grounds, sharpening their skills and, much more importantly, trying to analyze the competition. In a contest of horsemanship or a foot race one could only train and hope for the best, but the combat trials? In those it could be important to know your enemy.

Not many sparred Zoya a second glance as she moved through sword forms, trying to get the hang of what she was doing. Her cause was noble and just, but if she didn’t make it past the first round, what did she prove?

“Watch your thrust.”

The casual advice drifted over the air, carried by a familiar voice. With high melodies and warm undertones it sounded like the… Just like that night!

The champion at the party stood not ten feet away, leaning on a strange, outlandish spear. The weapon was longer than anything one would want to throw, with a hook set near the tip like a crossguard. He leaned against the weapon like it was as familiar to him as another limb, and his eyes followed the smooth motions of her sword.

“When you stab, don’t bend your wrist. You risk injuring yourself. You want to apply pressure perpendicular to the bones of your wrist, it helps prevent sprains.” He offered helpfully, demonstrating with his spear.

 

[LuvDragon]

One week earlier.

"Zoya, when you head into town take your brother." A woman called from the window. Long chocolate strands of silken hair falling over her shoulder as she leaned against the ledge. "And bring home a loaf of bread, a wheel of cheese, and some apples if you can." The woman was in her early forties with a few strands of silver hair starting to make its way into the brown. Wrinkles just barely puckering at the corners of a pair of vivid blue eyes. "And don't forget to take lunch to your father." She added.

"But mom! I need to pick up a few things from Nadia for the competitions. And I still need to practice." Zoya protested as Bobby came running out of the house swinging his wooden stick. The 6-year-old boy loved following his big sister around. Even if it was just to pester her.

"YAY screamed Bobby. Maybe there will be some of the nobles there! And I can watch them getting ready! And..." He paused and looked up at his sister then smiled. " And we can show them we are unstoppable and will win a dragon!"

Zoya laughed light-heartedly at her brother's enthusiasm as she dropped down to one knee. Ruffling her brother's hair in the process. "No Bobby. You can't say anything about fighting in the contest. Only nobility is allowed to fight." She kissed his forehead and took the practice sword away from him. Leaning it up against the house. "And I'm not fighting to win a dragon. I'm fighting to prove anyone can do it."

Town was livelier than expected. Bobby took off for the singing. Leaving her to run errands. Not having the boy underfoot was a blessing. Only standing 5'4, Zoya was a hair shorter than most. Like her mom, silken strands of chocolate hair fell down around her slender face. Only her hair was short, no more than shoulder length, and feathered naturally. Instead of blue eyes, she had bright green ones that rested against honey skin.

After picking up the things she needed and her mom wanted, Zoya took off to find her brother. There, sitting on the fountain ledge had to of been a noble for sure. And his voice. It was unlike anything she had ever heard before. Soon her foot was tapping as a smile spread across her lips. Time stood still for a moment. It was a sin for any one person to look so good. Finally as if coming out of a trance, she forced herself to move and collected her brother. Once home, the noble was all Bobby could talk about.


Now...


Zoya looked herself over in the mirror a few times. She was something between lean muscle and softly rounded. The outfit of brown leathers and fine tapestry hugged her every curve. A brown studded choker rested around her neck with a silver charm. Only thing that might give away that she wasn't nobility was the smell of fish. Unfortunately, there wasn't much to be done about that since she was a fishmonger's daughter. Stuffing a sash of lavender and ground almonds into her bracers would help some.

At the arena, she quietly worked on her swordplay. Trying to hide away from sight as much as she could. Hoping not to be noticed. Or more to the point hoping no one would see how weak her sword skills really were. Everything seemed to be going well until a voice rang out from behind. Not just any voice but a voice she wasn't about to forget anytime soon. "Why would you be helping me?" Her voice nowhere as smooth or melodic as his. Instead, she was a strange and exotic mix of feminine and hardness. Zoya kept her tone low as she spoke.

Still, she took note of how he moved and mimicked what he demonstrated. She may not have much skill with a blade but she was able to pick up on his instruction fairly easily. "I'm not going to take it easy on you once the competitions begin." Zoya added. Trying to stay focused on the task at hand. But the stranger was more of a distraction than she wanted to admit to. "Thanks for the advice." she finally added before repeating the thrust a few more times. Making sure she kept her wrist straighter. Beads of sweat forming on her light honey skin, making it glisten as she moved.

It was like watching someone dance more than fight a dummy. Agile and light on her toes. Constantly shifting her weight from one foot to the other. Always on the ball of the foot and only stamping down her heel when she needed to brace or anchor herself. Every so often she would look over to the man who stood there watching her. It raised chills across the back of her neck. Why was he even there? Unless it was to size up the competition like the others.

"Excuse me, I must be going." Sheathing her sword, she turned to head out of the area. Only her feet didn't make it that far. Maybe staying out in the forest to practice would have been better. But the sandy floor at the arena shifted differently underfoot than that of the fallen foliag. Getting practice moving on it would have been good. Quickly she turned once more to face him. Zoya narrowed her shamrock eyes on the handsome stranger as she tried to figure the man out. "What is your name?"

 

[BluJaq]

The man proved fairly friendly, although he had taken an interest in her. The competitor was impressed with the speed at which she learned, and the few corrections he deemed needed were made with a kind, if joking, air. His smile rarely left his face, but his style was completely unique. For one, his sword seemed thick, heavy for its size, and was a touch shorter than a knight's standard affair. Rather than wield the weapon two-handed or picking up a shield, his free hand steadied his wrist. In some of the flashy, flickering movements involved in his practice he led his hand down the unsharpened back length of the blade. The whole thing had the appearance of a dance, rather than something militaristic and practiced. He made it look like an art. It seemed, at the very least, enough to give his opponents pause. The true question arose with what he could do armed with that spear of his.

The two of them moved synchronized, and while he wouldn't say it without a reason, her quick movements impressed him. There was something to this young woman, he decided, something special indeed.

"I'm helping because you seemed to need it!" He chuckled. "You know, if swordsmanship isn't your expertise they allow other weapons? I'd hate to have to take it easy on you after all."

When she turned to leave he sheathed his weapon to watch her. It was a shame to see her go, truly. This was a new land, and Sparrow adored company. At her question he cocked his head, beautiful tawny hair feathering in the wind. His amber eyes glittered, and what he said couldn't have been any more fitting.

"Sparrow, Sparrow Therris." He answered with a little bow. "If you don't mind I'd like to ask the same. I've been to many places, and you still seem foreign to me?"

 

[LuvDragon]

Shamrock eyes danced around the arena before answering. "Zoya Willows." Her voice softening a degree as she spoke. No one in there should know her but Zoya didn't want to risk it. Cause she needed it he said. Great, was her skills or lack thereof that noticeable? No others here would have been so willing to help. In fact, none had. The nobles only cared about themselves. "And as for the sword, there is at least one event that requires it." Surely he would have known that. Or was this a test?

Zoya eyed him closely. Listening to him boast about having to take it easy on her. "We will see. Just because I lose one event doesn't mean I'll lose the competition." Her eyes slowly landing on his peculiar weapon. "Where is your blade from?" She inquired, stepping away to switch out her sword for a short spear. "I've never seen a sword like it before. Or a fighting style quite like yours."

There wasn't anything particularly remarkable about the weapon. It could have easily been a fisherman's spear from the simplicity of it. A long thin wooden rod no more than two and a half inches in diameter and three feet in length. The plain spearhead was lanced to the rod with thin dried sinew and twine. Resting the shaft behind her neck and draping her arms up over. "Let's try this again with a different weapon."

The head of the spear, which pointed towards the right hand, dropped slightly as her left toe drew an invisible half circle along the ground. "Ready?" The spear slid across her arms as the tip rapidly dropped towards the ground. Before it touched the sands her right hand gripped the shaft and swung it upwards in a circular motion. The weapon came to a stop at a slant in front of her shapely chest. with a left hand just below the point and her right further down the wooden shaft. Amusement tugged on lips as she found herself enjoying his company. He was like a breath of fresh air on a blossoming spring morning.

 

[BluJaq]

"Across the sea," Sparrow answered in reference to his sword, sheathing the weapon with a wry smile. "I have a lot of swords, as for my style? I suppose you could attribute at least some of it to the swordsaints of Aldori."

The songbird casually dropped the name of the greatest organization of champions in the world. Swordsaints were walking myths, so dangerous and rare that fewer than a dozen held the title in any given generation. A single swordsaint had been known to turn the tide of a war,

And here was one in the competition.

Sparrow picked up his own weapon, and the differences between their spears was made apparent. His was thicker, the wood firm and probably reinforced. The weapon wasn't something for dancing, his strikes would be hard, heavy, and capable of breaking bones without the point. Beside and just below the sharpened head was a sharpened war pick, similiar to the guard of a boar spear. Presumeably, it provided extra surface to parry, and it looked like it could pierce armor with the massive momentum the weapon could gain in a hefty swing. The way he spun it in his hands before setting himself in a combat position proved Zoya right. It was heavy, but well balanced, and Sparrow had the muscle to control it. Care would have to be taken. It wasn't unreasonable to believe Sparrow's weapon could shatter Zoya's with a particularly strong swing.

Sparrow set himself, one foot forward, with the spear held at a downward angle over his head. His hands balanced three quarters down the length both ways and presented the spike upwards towards his opponent. It was a clever defense. The only openings it would be difficult to defend were from the sides, angles it was hard to assault with a thrusting weapon. If she came at him with a thrust, he had the whole length of the weapon to parry with, and his counterattack could hook her own weapon. A quarterstaff style approach would leave Zoya with inferior reach his longer arms and weapon would clearly try to leverage.

He seemed entirely at ease, as relaxed with a spear in his hand as most men were sitting down after work. There was an air of bliss in his flickering breeze of a smile. Content to let Zoya come to him, Sparrow had the audacity to wink.

 

[LuvDragon]

From across the sea? What on earth? How far had he traveled if his weapon was from another continent? Zoya's smile lessened as he spoke about the Swordsaints of Aldori. Surely it was a bluff. Never before had one been allowed to enter the competitions. Why would one be let in now? "Prove it." Her words sharp. His spear reminded her more if a halberd. Only it was missing the axe. Still, it had the same kind of weight. Her eyes focused only on him as she swung the tip downwards, in a large sweeping motion. The tip moving from left to right at ankle level before coming back up. It was a basic move, one meant to off-balance an opponent allowing time for maneuvering. Then she saw it. He winked at her. "Are you mocking me?"

Color rose high in her cheeks. Short chocolate strands of silk fanned around her flustered face as she moved about. In a huff, she followed through the natural momentum of the swing to try and land a strike to his right side with the flat of the blade. Not that the blunt edges would do much damage anyway. The weapons didn't hold the usual quality of a noble. Those who took any time to inspect them would see she mostly modified the working tools of a fisher. But she made good use of them. Especially being a custom to their lightweight and flexibility.

Her heart pounded as they began the fight. Something a bit more intense than that of the casual swordplay. Zoya was going to prove, one way or another, that she had as much skill as any other upstart high born. Self-trained and determined, she wasn't about to back down. Tired of always being told to mind her place. For her, winning the dragon wasn't the ultimate goal. It was simply to prove breeding didn't determine one's skills.

As they switched from swords to spears, eyes began to shift in their direction. People were starting to take some notice of them. That knowledge only seemed to bother her and make her unsteady. Zoya wasn't polished and honed like Sparrow. Nor was she muscle and power. There was an unrefined grace to each action she took. A simplicity to her style that many would overlook or dismiss without a second thought. "I will not lose." The words clearly a statement. Although from the looks of things between the two she was clearly outmatched. And now they held the attention she wasn't wanting.

 

[BluJaq]

The sweep came low, and Sparrow barely bothered to deflect. The spear missed by intentional inches, wind feathering his hair as the air snapped around Zoya's spear. She turned the weapon to the side, and Sparrow's smile widened.

The spear's hook caught the unbalancing swing and flicked it upwards. Sparrow stood, unbroken, and let the fight truly begin.

With her weapon out of the way, he turned to a full-bodied lunge. With his legs, shoulders, core, and arm behind the intense weight of the spear his attack could have shattered stone. It was a perfectly executed counter enabled by the spear's hook, and while Zoya snapped her defenses back into place just in time to block, it was clear who the stronger of the two was.

The furious exchange of blows and technique lasted several minutes and Zoya saw wonders of combat the kingdom had never witnessed. Sparrow's hands were always shifting along the shaft, alternating between balanced guards, swift lunges, and even heavy swings from the very end of his weapon's haft. There was a coiling and uncoiling to his body, a way you could follow each strike from it's start in his footwork and core, all the way to the end of his arms and point of his blade. Compared to Zoya his attacks were slow, predictable, and perfect.

To every trick she tried, Sparrow had a response, but he was pressed to the limit trying to match Zoya's speed. Lightning-fast thrusts threatened to break his guard, pressing him on the back foot with a snarl on his lips. Setting his heel, he stopped giving ground and gripped his spear by the guarded notch under it's hook. Suddenly wielding his five-foot polearm like a dagger by only the last foot, he rebuffed her. Abusing reach like that, he tried to bully her around the arena. If he got in too close his dagger-like hold and greater strength lent him the advantage. At extreme ranges he could threaten his spear's longer sweeps and jabs, but his eyes grew more and more visibly amazed as she avoided all of it.

In the end, he wiped blood from a hairline scratch on his cheek. Ruby droplets glistened in the setting sunlight in sharp contrast to his near golden skin. The watching crowd gasped. Young women had come from the village, as many as were allowed to watch the practice, to see Sparrow. Between the songbird's natural charisma, friendly charms, and the party he'd made on the street he was already a crowd favorite, and the girls had one more reason than most to admire him. Kids and young men came in admiration of his skill, oohing and aahing at the way he moved with a spear in his hands. The competition watched closely, analytical eyes measuring this swordsaint from a far off land.

Before the crowd, Sparrow bowed.

"You don't lose. You may not win, but you refuse to go down. Hold onto that, Zoya Willows, it will serve you well in this match. You've a talent for the spear."

 

[LuvDragon]

Droplets of sweat glistened off her honey skin as her chest rose and fell between heavy breaths. Mottled cheeks confirming her exhaustion. If the fight had lasted any longer then she would have been walking away with something more than a few crimson lines across her face and hands. Or a few torn seams where the wardrobe was snagged. Okay, so maybe he would still have to hold back even when using a weapon she was more skilled in. Laughter rolled up as he spoke about her talent. About her not losing. "You are an odd fellow Sparrow. Come on, I know a place we can get drinks and sit for a bit." After that round, she needed a breather. Although Sparrow looked as if he could easily have gone another round or two.

Gathering up her weapons she returned them to the racks. Normally she didn't mind the crowds. But with her dressed like a noble and there with him, it wouldn't have gone over well. Especially with the morning talk all being about the man who sang like an angel. "Or maybe somewhere without everyone staring? At the very least I need to get changed." Her words sounding more and more urgent as she recognized a few of the onlookers. "And we can talk about fighting and technique and whatever else you want to talk about."

Sarah Pensly, the ever-present thorn in her side was watching. The one person who would turn her in without a second thought was there. Panicked, Zoya grabbed Sparrow by the hand and took off as fast as she could. Not ready for the conversation, or sparring to be over. She didn't stop until they were at a small inn and she was off getting changed. It wasn't long before she was back in more simple attire. One of faded browns and tans with a few off-colored patches in a few spots.

"Mead and stew please." She called out to the barmaid as they got a table. Now in something, she felt more comfortable to be seen in, Zoya was finally able to relax. The red finally fading from her cheeks as she sat back in the chair. "So, Sparrow. You really are a Swordsaint. What brings you here?" They were normally given just about anything they could ever want. Through trial and combat of course. But still, how was she ever going to prove herself with someone like him fighting.

 

[BluJaq]

She really does have something to prove, Sparrow realized when she re-emerged in all browns and greys. She seemed far more common than normal, and the songbird's grin went positively huge.

He liked this girl, with her attitude to remain unbroken before this world. Society had placed a wall before her, and she'd grabbed a hammer.

Although, a guilty part of him did miss seeing her in a choker. He made certain to pay that part no heed.

"I don't drink," He warned politely and flashed a smile like sunshine at the barmaid. He layered his soul over his speech, letting his powers carry warmth to all who heard. This was a good place, he had decided. Sparrow could see himself easily staying here for a while.

'You won't stay longer than the contest.' A dark voice, one he hated, whispered from the back of his mind. Sparrow banished it, but the thought lingered. He really didn't stick around long, now did he?

"Yes, I earned the title." He replied with a touch of care. Sparrow didn't make a big deal of it. Really, very few of his order did. Most swordsaints were popular enough anyone important recognized them on sight. Sparrow had an extra reason. He'd been named a swordsaint nearly three centuries ago. If his old titles were dug up his cover could be blown, and... well...

Sparrow sighed. That would mean the end of parades on the streets, contests on castle grounds, and pretty girls in taverns.

"I wanted to test myself, plenty of swordsaints do. I can think of two others who joined up this year. The eclipse caused quite the stir and champions smell glory. I've got as good a chance as anyone, why not give it a try?"

He took a drink from his glass of warm cider and eyed his bowl of mead. His stomach almost rumbled at the sight of the steam, and he leaned in to take a spoonful and cover his blush.

"How about you? Pardon my asking, but this doesn't seem the type of place for a noblewoman, and that looked like your first contest."

 

[LuvDragon]

What was up with her? He asked about her hanging out there and her competing for the first time. "Well, yes. It is my first time to be in the competition." She said sheepishly. "I've had lots of time to practice with the spear and bow. The sword and hand to hand still need work." Zoya swirled her spoon in her bowl as she spoke. Trying to keep the details vague.

"Guess you don't have any issues with weapons or combat of any sort." To have such talent and training would be nice. "I would love to hear more about that sword. Or maybe your spear? It was different to see a spear with a pick on it like that." Yeah, there were boar spears with picks but the overall shape was different. "And the weight of your weapon. I can't believe how precise your movements were."

"Oh, what's wrong with hanging out here?" She looked around a few times. Thankfully the place was mostly empty. A friend of her mom's was working and she knew the barmaid. "This place is full of good people and good food." What better reason to be someplace then that.

The ladies working all making eyes at Sparrow as they passed. Even a few at the counter. "I can respect that. Wanting to test your abilities. See if you really have what it takes." The ladies giggled as they watched the two talk. Trying to ignore them Zoya simply focused retention on Sparrow.

"Besides, it's nice to just set back and relax one in a while right?" Because nobles have to get away all the time. Or something like that. "What about you? What kinds of places do you hang out at?" She asked. "Or do you normally hang around fountains drawing in crowds?" Zaya mused.

 

[BluJaq]

> "This place is full of good people and good food."

"Agreed," Sparrow chuckled, raising his glass to the girls who giggled at the pair. His eyes sparkled with amusement as he lifted a finger to his lips, teasingly and jokingly asking they be quiet. Couldn't they see Willow and Therris having a moment after all? There was always that momentary fear that what he did or said could be misinterpreted, but he felt the wink sold that he wasn't serious.

"There are some weapons I still struggle with, no warrior knows everything." Sparrow shrugged. "I'm terrible with a anything heavy or blunt for instance, and i'm lucky the contest doesn't require the use of such arms. That said I doubt I'll do well in the joust. You have good taste, the spear is my favorite weapon."

He sipped his drink, drifting back to times before Zoya, perhaps before this kingdom, were born. Gods... Dragons were old.

"I was a soldier, so formation spear and shield was the first thing I got taught. The Swordsaints broadened that education. My spear is different enough from most other weapons that I'm not sure how much it still counts, but that was my start."

He leaned back in his seat, looking at the cieling. Nice to sit back and relax? Was it? Sparrow frowned at the thought.

"I guess we relax differently. I love travel, the open road and the variety of people you can meet. For me, the fountain was relaxing. I'm pretty comfortable as the center of attention. Finding somewhere lonely to calm down feels counterproductive, who would you talk to?"

Sparrow took his third drink from his glass, somehow making the inn's glass look classy in his strong hands.

"You said you were good with the spear and bow, and I've seen at least one of those. Did you hunt a lot as a youth?" She knew about boar spears, based on whawt Sparrow was supposed to know it was a damn fine guess, but he wasn't exactly looking to be correct. If he was right he was right, but if he was wrong? He may learn more based on her answer.

 

[LuvDragon]

She couldn't picture him not being able to use a weapon well. The way he oozed confidence while in combat. And every other aspect as well. "The spear was the first thing I learned. Using it to fish." Zoya said without thinking. He was easy to talk to. Easier than it should be. "Same with the bow." It had only been later that she started teaching herself how to really fight with them. Usually in private.

"I've only killed fish. Never been hunting before." She said between bites. "I have done lots of target practice with trees, hoops, and painted circles." Those were good times. The pride felt when learning a new skill. The joy of accomplishment. Always trying to do one better. Now she trained to make sure she could stand on her own two feet during the competition. Granted, she was still improving and learning. Just something was different about it all now.

Zoya ignored his flirtatious nature as they talked. Quickly realizing it was just how the strange man was. "Oh, don't get me wrong. Getting out with people is good and all." If she didn't smell like fish most days then she would make the fountain a thing herself. The looks from people passing by after helping her father all morning. "And there are people here too. It' gets really lively in the evening."

So he was a soldier before becoming a swordsaint. Made since. Especially with his type of spears. Everyone always seemed to think they came in one size. No, they were like any other weapon. Coming in all different shapes and sizes to fit any fighting style.

"My weakest area is hand to hand." Physical combat was simply something she didn't have a chance to practice. None of her female friends were willing to be her learn to fight. And she wasn't willing to get that close to most guys. Then again, practicing with Sparrow might not be that bad.

 

[BluJaq]

Sparrow nodded, seeming to soak in the atmosphere of the place as he listened. There was a subtle beat, rhythm, music to the way he moved. Zoya was right, he was easy to talk to. Something about the glimmer lit in his eyes as he watched over his glass, something about the way his smile teased at hearts and heads, or how he so naturally seemed excited about what he was listening to. He occasionally greeted others, waving at couples who walked in, cheering for the young men who entered flexing. The place was beginning to lighten up, and Sparrow suspected it needed music. He was on the verge of providing.

"If you're half as dedicated to this contest as you were to that sparring session, we all have something to fear." He responded with a broad grin. His compliment was inturrupted however, by the door being tossed open. A group of men, presumably from out of town based on how they were dressed, stumbled in half-dead-drunk. Sparrow frowned, they seemed the sort who had already been tossed out of a few bars. Sparrow did his best to ignore them, continueing on through the ruccus.

"If you feel you need more practice, I'd be happy to spar with you anyday. Consider it my honor!" He raised his glass to toast, and frowned slightly like a disappointed puppy when he found it empty.

 

[LuvDragon]

The men that entered only held her attention for the briefest of moments. Her eyes rolled as she looked back to the charming Sparrow. A smile cracked her lips as he frowned. Quickly she waved over the barmaids for another round of drinks. Her cheeks darkened a degree to his complement. "Thank you. I'm dedicated and trying. The dragon doesn't mean anything. I just want to prove I'm just as good as the rest."

Two of the drunks had quickly made their way around the room before coming back to their table. Maybe it was because of Sparrow who could have easily been mistaken as a prince. Or maybe it was her who even dressed in commoner clothes still held an unrefined beauty. Whatever it was, the men decided this was the table to harass. "Excuse me." one of them said, reeking of brandy and other liquors. "Can we have a dance?" One of the men leaned on the table to block the view of Sparrow while the other grabbed Zoya by the arm, trying to yank her from the chair. Both men were dressed nice enough. Their attire something similar to that of a sailor or rich traveling merchant. Maybe they had come for the competitions?

"No thank you." Zoya snapped pulling her arm free as they tried to bring her up from the chair. "I'm perfectly fine where I'm at." She didn't like being manhandled and wasn't about to let this group be the first to get away with it.

"But we insist. We'll even buy you some pretty clothes as payment." The man started to yank on her once more. A third coming up from behind to shover her out of the chair. Causing it to topple.

Zoya slapped one and kicked at another. Without hesitation, she squeaked out. "Sparrow!" As the small brawl began. They wanted to maneuver her upstairs while she pushed and kicked. Not doing much in the process to deter the men.

 

[BluJaq]

Zoya cried out and Sparrow sighed. Those men didn't know who they were messing with. That girl was something extraordinary, something special, amazing, incredible. She was determined, with an inner strength to match any myth Sparrow had ever met. She could change this tournament, change everything if given half the chance.

The songbird set down his glass.

There were two men, more than half-drunk and dangerous from the night's festivities, fully grown and burly with bodies hard from a life of labor. There was a wild light in their eyes that said they wouldn't listen to reason, and had forgotten what the word meant.

"You gentlemen wanted a dance?" Sparrow asked cheerfully as he strode up behind them. Then, promptly, the thug carrying Zoya's legs felt his knee explode in pain, smashed inward by a heavy stomp from Sparrow's boot.

Sparrow's grin never left his face. He twisted his foot, firmly anchoring himself for his strike and grinding the brute's bones into the floor. His cross came so hard the air whistled, connecting with blackout force with the second thug's jaw. When the man staggered, at the very least seeing stars and at the most unconscious Sparrow returned his attention to the unfortunate man howling under his boot.

Sparrow's hands closed over the man's face, jerking his head back into a smashing blow from Sparrow's knee. He collapsed to the ground, bleeding from the sharp blow to the back of the skull, and Sparrow offered a hand to Zoya. Two man, easily his own size, dismantled in seconds.

"I must not have been pretty enough! Look lively, their friends didn't like that."

They had... A lot of friends. Half a dozen others had come in with them, and while the bar itself was quiet for a moment, they were standing. Anger began to grow across drug-addled faces, and for the first time, the smile on Sparrow's face flickered.

That was a lot of rude drunks.

"Right..." He whispered, taking a light stance, one foot forward, knees and elbows angled and fingers in fists. "How are you at learning on the job?"

 

[LuvDragon]

What felt like minutes, an hour even, took place in only a few seconds. Sparrow had dispatched the two drunks that threatened all kinds of things. Meanwhile the number of willing opponents only seem to grow. The sounds of chair scooting and cracking knuckles rang throughout the bar.

"No fighting in my tavern!" One of the women cried out. Only to have a stein hurled in her direction. The bar maids all screamed and gasped as they dropped behind the counter in fear.

Taking Sparrows hand, Zoya made it to her feet. "Not much of a choice but I can't say I will feel bad about this." The men drunk and drugged would be slower than her. At least she had that going. Looking down to the spacing of Sparrows feet, she tried to mirror. Zoya's stance was more like a boxer. Still the weight stayed on the balls of her feet.

A hand full of men surged forward like puppets on strings. Hands as hard as stone darting and jabbing. Three went to the more prevalent threat, Sparrow. While two thought Zoya would be a quick knockout. Only she was fast on her feet. And in their inebriated state, the men's movements were slightly sluggish and off centered. Still a single punch, if it connected, promised to hurt.

Agile and nimble, Zoya managed not to get hit but she wasn't making much progress herself. "Ok Sparrow.. lesson one is?"

The three on Sparrow were taking their time, trying to circle and trap him between the men. From their expressions, they promised pain and dismemberment. Each punch coming for his face, aiming to bust the nose or blacken an eye. With all that going on the next wave of men were up and ready to join. The two simply weren't going down as fast as they wanted.

 

[BluJaq]

Lesson one?

Sparrow almost laughed, keeping his hands high he blocked, ducked, and dodged what came his way. Against three men he was disturbingly close to a stalemate. He could keep moving, and was quick enough to keep from getting surrounded, but he couldn't make any sort of counter. A second alone with any of these men and he could disable them, but they weren't giving him that.

"Lesson one of a fistfight? Try to avoid getting in a fistfight!" He nearly laughed, raising his hand beside his head, catching a right hook on the solid plane of his forearm and bicep. He took his chance, hammering a fist into the man's gut. Sparrow held back just a little bit less, the true strength of a dragon-soul shabti showing through in the way his victim was physically lifted off his feet and dropped in a heap back on the floor. The other two, as he'd predicted, came at him, and the sparrow narrowed his eyes.

"Stay on your feet!" He called out, wit forgotten as he focused on following his own advice. One man, seeing how well Sparrow responded to conventional attacks, chose to spread his arms and try to just tackle Sparrow to the floor. The Songbird lifted his leg and straightened it in a powerful push kick, crashing his foot into the man's head. The brute hit the wooden boards with a heavy thud and came up spitting blood. The momentum still knocked Sparrow back, but this way he could roll with it. What he hadn't counted on was the third man behind him.

Sparrow nearly swore as an arm wrapped around his neck. The drunk's other arm wrapped around his fist, completing the hold, called a blood choke. Sparrow's throat collapsed under sudden pressure and he forced himself not to panic. From here, the larger man could hold Sparrow, controlling the songbird's own body weight to keep him in line until he blacked out, or worse, the other drunks got back up. A swordsaint's training didn't cover hand to hand.

Sparrow was so much more than a swordsaint.

Stars danced in his vision and pain began to burn in his eyes. He bucked forward and found himself unable to move, so he kicked up. One foot found a table, and he got all the momentum he needed. Sparrow flipped up, and hit the ground, taking the man with him. The songbird got up first, and whirled to face any other opponents before any of his recovered. He glanced at Zoya, checking if she needed help.