Private The Last Dragonborn

[heliumradio]

These boys amused Anya with their sparring and small shows of bravado, and she tried not to consider just how dead they could be if the Dragonborn appeared. She was the oldest and had the most combat under her belt, but only because she'd lived through the war as a child. Whenever she could, she'd avoided heavy fighting. She wasn't built for it.

Virk's insanity could carry him through, but it could also get him killed. Roggvar was, for lack of a better term, scrappy, and Remy...well, Remy worried her the most. His machines were devilishly clever, but she wasn't sure they could make up for size and strength in battle.

Despite little evidence, Anya had a strong suspicion that the vampire who took Seryn was in league with the Dragonborn, mostly because of his sudden and unexplained appearance, and he had given them quite a lot of trouble. They were all exhausted when he got there, admittedly, so it was hard to tell what they could have done at full strength. The only thing that kept her from abandoning this group was the slight guilt that haunted her whenever she considered it. She wasn't the best of them, but her age and experience made her feel like she should be the leader, and the arrogance of that idea made her uncomfortable.

She followed the three of them outside. Previously, she would have taken Roggvar's lack of invitation an an insult, but she'd come to understand that most of the things he did were not meant that way. "Machines would be good practice, yes, Remy," she said, sitting on the ground with her legs crossed. "But it would be a lot of work for you, building them to just allow them to be destroyed."

 

[Humbungala]

Irelius was left a lone in the cave. Remy, Virk and Rogvar left to train, and Anya followed to watch. Irelius was in no mood to train. I've nothing to learn from sparring with any of them. I need to fight something more dangerous, more powerful. Irelius spewed fire between his palms. He had been working on a spell combination for a while in secret, and he took advantage of him being left alone to practice it. He focused the fire in a thin line between his hands and held it there. He then began conjuring ice, slowly covering the fire. After a few moments the fire was completely concealed in the ice spike that he had created. Before the ice melted, Irelius shot the spike at a wall and upon impact the ice spike burst into a small explosion of flame. Irelius smiled, Finally. He made his way outside, to show everyone else the spell he had worked so hard to create.

 

[Writes-Many-Posts]

Virk had accepted the offer with no hesitation. Sparring... No risk, not much pain, amusement, all for free. He readied the shivs that were on his belt, and then, a little of philosophy bursted through his mind, as if time had actually stopped. His arsenal was incredibly repetitive. Dodging, acrobatics, shiv throwing, dual wielding, fist fighting, then, if the enemy wasn't down yet, either improvising, fleeing, or passing out beaten up. A flamethrower would come in handy, and would save him some spare shivs for melee. He had learned something from fighting the vampire, though. He could pierce his boots to make kicking deadly, and it could come in handy if he wanted feeling unfair in brawls... Since he was out of bandage to cover the blades' tips, he wielded them in a way of a bat or a mace to hit his foes like a club without harming them much.

 

[IAmRoggvar98]

As Virk agreed and approached, Roggvar tossed a practice sword to him, and then one to Remy. "You're both great with your respective weapons, but maybe you should try something a little less... specialized." He waited for them to approach before he chose who should spar with whom.

 

[Writes-Many-Posts]

Virk caught the practice swords in mid air, with some clunky movements to adapt to the big, heavier and longer weapon he had now. He threw it to the air to try to do some acrobatics with it, just like the shivs, which were now on the ground since he had dropped them in a hurry to react to the thrown sword. The blade spinned with some grace, but, for Virk's disgrace, it fell on his hand, that was used to the weight of the shivs, was dropped, and hit his own foot with the hilt. "Ow!" He immediatly crouched to pick it up, blushing slightly ashamed, and posed a least flexible position this time, ready for stronger and slower combat.

 

[IAmRoggvar98]

"Virk, I happen to know that you and Remy have already sparred, so I suspect you will be good sparring partners. If you know each other well, you will learn to survey an opponent for their strengths and weaknesses. I will spar with Anya, as she seems to have invited herself," Roggvar smirked at Anya, who had followed them outside to spar. "I don't have another sword with me, but there are some suitable branches I could get for you."

 

[Snoball]

"But it would be a lot of work for you, building them to just allow them to be destroyed."

"Destroyed no, Miss Anya. Automations are built to disassemble when dismantled, not become destroyed. A scattered puzzle that the Dwemer could easily put back together if it had been defeated. I don't consider it work, but rather, a passionate hobby."

Taking his eye off of Roggvar for a moment, Remy surprisingly caught the sword in the air. In the heat of the moment, he pointed it up and posed with it, only to drop it after obtaining a splinter. After inspecting his hand, he picks up the wooden sword once more. "I wouldn't mind challenging Mr. Virk again, but wouldn't this feel like a repeat of Day 1, Mr. Roggvar? If it's my ability to adapt you're looking to test, I'd be happy to oblige. Just allow me to put my own spin on it." Remy reached into one of his massive pockets and retrieved an arm band laced with some small cogs, a miniature steam exhaust, and a blue orb in the center. It was lighter than what it appeared, so it wouldn't hold down the wearer.

"If you wouldn't mind Mr. Virk?" He eagerly awaited the response of the Imperial to test run the device.

 

[IAmRoggvar98]

Roggvar passed by Remy, quickly crouching slightly to whisper in his ear, "Watch Virk. The way he moves, his body type, his behaviors. This is how you defeat your opponent. For example, Virk is obviously stronger than you, but look at his forearms, particularly his left. His style of fighting doesn't rely on those muscles, so you can strike him where he's weakest by manipulating his wrist movement, which is connected to the forearm muscle." This piece of advice was something Roggvar himself would have used in a confrontation with Virk, and he felt that giving Remy an introduction to this way of thinking would help him bridge the gap between mind and body.

 

[Writes-Many-Posts]

Mr... It could make the lowest man feel important. Virk smiled and posed ready with the clunky wooden weapon. He had underestimated the breton the first time they sparred, and it posed quite a threat at the end. After 6 months of training, he could be a deadly steam powered humanoid fighting machine, and Virk had not much room for bold moves. "Virk was the one who started last time, he owes Remy the first strike." This time, electricity wouldn't be a problem as they were both using wooden weapons, if he could call it that, but despite the splinter, Remy appeared to be more apt for the long thing than Virk. He began investigating his surroundings, seeing what sort of strategy he could improvise through acrobatics. The rocky mouth of the cave could provide a good rebouncer for some mid-air tactics, and piercing the soil with the weapon would suffice for some spinning kicks. Still not many choices, though. He would not be able to back away while attacking, as he only had one sword that couldn't be thrown, and dual wielding was not possible, as well as blocking, since his dexterity wasn't good at that point.

 

[heliumradio]

"Fascinating, Remy," Anya nodded, smiling at him. He knew more about the Dwemer than anyone else she'd met, and she wish she had time to talk to him about it. Given the circumstances, though, she hadn't gotten a chance.

When Roggvar spoke, Anya smirked. "Yes, I invited myself, boy, as a lady must. If you'd like to spar me, fine, but I'm not sure I'm in the mood to damage you so badly." She laughed to show him she didn't mean it and sat down in the grass. She missed the feeling of freedom that came with being outside. It had been far too long since she'd seen Riften or anyone she knew, for that matter. Over time, she'd learned to sleep decently in this group of strangers, but she still found herself missing the Flagon.

She could hear the things Roggvar whispering tips to Remy, and she approved. She'd grown to like the Nord, if a little begrudgingly, and she actually enjoyed talking to him most of the time. "Come here and sit when you're done, boy," she said, and she leaned back against a tree.

 

[IAmRoggvar98]

Roggvar sauntered over to Anya, who was lounging on a tree as if it was the most comfortable piece of furniture created. She had a way of looking like so. "You know, if I wasn't being the bigger person here, I would be offending by you calling me boy all the time. Girl." Roggvar leaned with one foot against the same tree as her.

 

[heliumradio]

Anya dismissed him with a hand wave. "It's Khajiit. A habit, not an insult. You are young and unsure, so you are boy. Virk is older, more experienced, so he is brother." She shrugged. "Call me girl if you like, but I assure you, I will not answer." She rubbed her shoulder, making a face. Despite all these months on a cave floor, she still wasn't quite used to sleeping on rock every night, and it was beginning to take a toll.

 

[Snoball]

Remy took Roggvar's advice into deep consideration. The man obviously had more fighting experience, so he'd likely know of a better means of exploiting Virk's obvious advantage. "Left forearm, huh? How to go about this..." Remy knew this was a lot easier said than done. His opponent's tremendous agility would make targeting such a specific part of the body a grueling task.

"Virk was the one who started last time, he owes Remy the first strike."

Remy nodded eagerly, holding up the wooden sword. Before striking, Remy followed Virk's eyes as they trailed around their surroundings.... the cave's mouth, nearby stones, the ground. Knowing Virk's unpredictability, the difficult part of this fight would be correctly determining how the Imperial would use this setting to his advantage. Remy synchronized Beta to collect info during the battle, and got into position.

"As you wish, friend. Without further ado... En garde!" Knowing he'd likely dodge it, Remy swung at Virk's right arm first, opposite the side of what Roggvar had told him to strike to make his battle strategy less obvious.

 

[Writes-Many-Posts]

Virk tried to inovate his blocking skills instead of dodging, which went out wrong as expected by everyone, but him. He put the sword in the way of Remy's blow, but the impact made his own sword hit and burst his lower lip. Licking his newest wound, Virk fell back, unsure of what to do. He had to think fast, BETA and Remy were both going to attack soon if he stayed idle. Oh, the urge he felt to pick up shivs from his belt and feel at home combat again. But it was his vote for the fight, and his honesty at stake, he would end that battle with the sword in his hands. He sprinted towards the breton, spinning with his sword stretched at his right hand, hoping he could do some damage with the troublemaking weapon.

 

[Snoball]

With Virk charging back at Remy, BETA (Still within Remy's mechanical arm) quickly collects data on Virk's last move as he spins. BETA communicates with Remy through his eye piece.

"Block tactic in 3.. 2.."

Remy puts up his metal arm to block Virk's swinging blow, but messes up just as he did. Not only had BETA identified Virk's tactic, but his error as well. Remy's metal arm rebounded off his head, luckily only making him a bit dizzy. Still feeling the effects of the blow while being unused to the sword, Remy lunges at Virk's thigh in an attempt to slow him down a bit.

 

[Writes-Many-Posts]

The lunge actually had a dangerous level of effectiveness. Virk backed away once again and buried the wooden sword on the ground and took a few steps back. Then, avoiding the scan of the spider, he ran to the buried, only seen wooden hilt and stepped on it. His height held such a grace. He had never achieved that much in a long time. As if time slowed down, he spinned in mid air in order to perform a drop kick against the thorax of his opponent. Upon landing, he looked at his blade shocked. Virk had just broken it and could only take the separated hilt of the ground. The blade was buried in deep enough to be unreachable. He stood up with his now half of half a sword, trying to figure out what to do against Remy with such a dull object.

 

[Humbungala]

Irelius walked by Remy and Virk who were now sparring. He raised his eyebrows upon first sight, surprised that Remy would be sparring with a sword. He looked towards Rogvar and Anya who were speaking to eachother. Irelius approached them, "Not to interrupt you two love birds," Irelius leaned in for a whisper, "Or to take any shine from the two fellows fighting," Irelius backed up again and raised his voice back to a medium volume, "but there is something I've learned and I'm really excited to show you. May I?" Irelius stepped back and raised his forearms perpendicular to his hips.

 

[Snoball]

Virk's agility had made it impossible for BETA to scan the dropkick fast enough, plus it would be difficult for Remy to mimic with his lack of athleticism. Remy held his throbbing chest following the impact, and was bound to have left some heavy bruising due to the attack's height. While Virk attempted to pull his sword from the ground, Remy tested a way of changing up the battle's setting. He quickly adjusted his arm.

Since he never believed in killing, Remy had picked a wind blower over a flamethrower to go into a fight. He pointed it to the ground, causing all of the dust and dirt to be shot up in the air, providing momentary cover. Seeing through his bionic eye, Remy charged at Virk through the dust using the sword's flat end to strike his abdomen. The swing also caused some of the dust around them clear out somewhat, evening out their vision a bit more.

 

[IAmRoggvar98]

"This is a good fight, is it not?" Roggvar adressed both Anya and Irelius. "And yes, I would love to see what you've learned." He tried to give his attention completely to Irelius, but couldn't help to peer at the battle from the corner of his vision. Virk was inexperienced with a long weapon, but was beginning to cope at an impressive speed. This, however, seemed to allow Remy to become a full offensive front, using both physical and technological warfare. Roggvar tried to remember to speak to Remy about this when the fight came to an end.

 

[Writes-Many-Posts]

After Remy's strike to Virk's abdomen, his whole body appeared to be like an aftermath of all the blows he had taken so far. The attack to his thigh was now affecting his speed, the fall from the dropkick was hurting his back,and his pain in the abdomen was now preventing him from breathing at a normal rate. The dust was no help either, stopping Virk from seeing the breton he was sparring with. Shaking his head to refresh his brain and drive away the pain, he desperately threw the hilt of what was left of his practice sword randomly into the cloud of dust Remy rose. He quickly fell back to the buried blade once again to try to dig it up, but no success. "Gah, what was I thinking?" No shivs, no sword, all he had left was his agility, which was nearly useless in the artificial mist.

After thinking he had no choice but his fists, Virk noticed Irelius was talking about a new spell of his, and remembered about the convenient spot he was close to. The tree where Anya and Roggvar were leaning at. He rushes between the dust and crawls to the top of it through the weak wooden cracking branches. Hidden again, safe. But everyone knew where he was, safety and victory had neither been achieved. Still improvising a new strategy, Virk picked up some leaves and broke a thick branch, somewhat shaped like an ebony dagger, only... unfortunately and drastically way more dull. Hiding the leaves in his sleeve and wielding the branch as a dagger, one of his weapons of choice, and after feeling safer with a lighter and handier weapon, Virk climbed to the top of that tree and jumped in a double flip, landing on his feet in front of Remy, pointing to him the new "practice dagger", still trying to figure out some use for the leaves he picked up.