LimeyPanda — Roleplayer Guild

Intermission- Alicia Le'roux and Hanus Wolfblood

Alicia had been eager to arrive at the military quarters, having learnt of the location of Hanus at last. Ever since she discovered the general was in the city, the Liverian vampire had been desperate to meet with such a legendary figure for a number of reasons: chief amongst them to ask for help in training. She had found herself woefully lacking against Dirge and his minions, something she was not eager to repeat. Truth be told, she had struggled against the Half-orc and, while she knew she could have beaten him, it told her how unprepared she was for the orc himself.

As she entered the military quarters she would be greeted with the sight of the training room, though it served multiple functions as a large and open space for the military to gather together, practice, or simply cavort with one another. At the centre of the room was Hanus, who was overseeing training that day, likely to try and avoid politics once again as he was no particular fan of such things. He hadn’t noticed Alicia enter yet, though as he sniffed the air, his eyes wandered in her direction. “Vampire.” He comments with a large, playful grin. “...Diana… I would recognize the stench of her bloodline anywhere.”

Alicia stared at the legend in front of her with a mixture of excitement and surprise. She had never heard of a being that could actually smell the vamparism on a person, let alone the lineage. It was impressive, to say the least. “and you are Hanus Wolfblood. It is a pleasure to meet you: my name is Alicia Le’roux.” She bows her head to the general, smiling with an unabashed excitement. “I would be honoured if you would spar with me.”

“Spar?” Hanus says with an amused twist coming to his grin. Some of the men training nearby stop and stare, and whisper amongst each other. “Well.” Hanus motions for a pair of blunted blades against a wall, training swords that, while they could still incidentally cut, couldn’t really deal any significant wounds. One of the men retrieves both and tosses one to Hanus, who catches it out of midair and unsheathes it in one swift motion. “If you have a safe word, you should probably tell me now, I get a little… Overly exuberant in these affairs.” The man then walks over to Alicia and holds the blade out for her, recognizing her noble birth he bows his head. “Mi’lady.”

Alicia watches the militiaman walk over with the blunted sword, and she takes it from him with a flourish of her own. She gives the militiaman a smile of appreciation, both for the bringing of the weapon, as well as the courtesy shown towards her. “Safe word? How very forward of you general Hanus.” She offers the man a playful smirk, enjoying the prospect of a duel with a legend. “I will yield if you force me to: I’d rather keep my body unbroken, if it is all the same to you.”

Swinging the mock-sword from side to side gave the duellist a feel for the weapon’s weight, and after a few swings, she squared up to the general: lowering her center of gravity and entering a more free stance. “Without wanting to sound cliche: en guarde.”

“Surely you remember… That the one who offers to duel, is the aggressor.” With a sigh Hanus twirls the blade in one hand like a paper weight, showing his unusual strength off to his opponent. “Still. I’m not one to turn down a fair maiden’s invitation.” He suddenly dashes forward, blade firmly gripped in both hands as he swings in an uppercut motion towards Alicia, his feet firmly against the floor, knees bent so he would have a low posture.

The strength and speed of the general was more than Alicia had expected, and every instinct told her not to block the blow. Even if she could, which was something she wasn’t confident about, she would probably injure herself as much as the swing could. With little other choice, instinct had her stepping backwards, away from the blade and away from Hanus’ low swing. So focused on the dodge was she that Alicia didn’t even bother to throw a counter attack, she just stumbled away and regained her stance, lower than before: ready to dodge again. “That was...unexpected.”

“I’m not sure why you chose this fate.” He turns and faces her, circling her slowly, blade pointed downward and never straying more than a few feet from her. “You are of Diana’s brood. I am of Malaki’s brood. We are warriors, and tyrants. You are, at best, a highly sophisticated prostitute.” His grin turns somewhat savage. “Why would you choose to fight? You merely waste your talents you could use at a brothel.”

Alicia’s eyes seem to darken in anger at the words. The silver irises turning fierce in the face of the insults levied against her. She opened her mouth to speak, then quickly silenced herself. No speaking here: no words. She advanced forward, slowly closing the distance between the pair, her sword mirroring the position of his own. Suddenly, she lashed out, launching a swift feint from the right before moving into a savage lunge: aiming straight for the general’s throat.

With a surprising speed Hanus was taken off guard, the feint was one thing, but the lash out for the vitals was another. The blade strikes his right cheek, sliding off of it with just enough force that, despite being blunted, it did in fact cut his cheek cleanly and with surgical precision. Leaping back, he touches his cheek and chuckles, shaking his head. “Not bad.” He then coats the tip of his blade with his blood. “We’ll see how you last when I don’t stop now.” The nearby soldiers cheer at that, one yelling out a bet at how long Alicia would last. A whopping thirty seconds, it seemed, was the general consensus. “Prepare yourself.” What a gentlemanly masquerade.

Alicia should have felt pride at wounding the man, or perhaps a cruel moment of vindication. The scent of Hanus’ blood should have made her ecstatic, or perhaps even a bit hungry, but instead she was just focused on the anger and the cruelty in her chest. He had insulted her, berated her: and now his men joined in on the jeering. Which of these men were her equal? Who amongst them had ever wounded a hero? She felt an overwhelming desire to prove them all wrong, and there was only one way she could do that. “Your men suggest bets, do they? I would levy one of my own. If I last more than thirty seconds, as your men seem to think impossible: you must attend the ball, with me. In fact, I will force you to dance with me. Do you match these terms with your own?” The move was a bold one, a stupid one even. He could ask of her any number of things, but she wanted him to feel some of the insult she felt now, to be forced into such a position would indeed be insulting to the man, she was sure. He seemed a man of action: of war and of blood, not of politics and dancing.

“If you lose, you will attend the ball with Gooche.” One of the men whistles, and a large, drooling mutt stumbles his way into the room, with large floppy ears. He looks at Alicia briefly before going cross eyed and sneezing, then attempts to lick his own nose. “...And, you will tell anyone who asks how proud you are to be with such a sterling example of his kind.” The mutt barks, then starts licking the floor instead of his paws. “Acceptable?”

“Perfectly. Either way I dance with a dog.” Without any other words, she raised her blade and pointed it in the direction of the general, keeping her self low and her weight on the back foot, ready to move at a moment’s notice.

Hanus immediately and without further warning lunges forward, he knew what his advantages were, and he was going to use them. Swinging his blade from the left to the right, a simple attack really. Still, his feet were constantly moving, not giving himself a good footing, and not truly investing in this opening move. Why? Who knew, except Hanus, of course.

Alicia, like Hanus, knew that strength was certainly in his favour. Blocking a blow would have to be a desperation move, but he was presenting such an easy target to block: why? Instinct told her to attack, and she wanted to, but then every piece of logic that kept instinct in check suggested that avoiding confrontation was wiser. Instinct versus initiative, a duellist’s indecision could cost them dearly.

In the end, Alicia settled on initiative. She tapped her blade against the tip of his, sending the attacking blade upwards as she ducked and took a step back, away from Hanus and away from danger. Part of her wished she’d gone on the attack: Stepped into the wild swing and attacked low, but she had far too healthy a respect for the general. For all the anger, she would not blind herself to facts: this is a battle she should lose.

He grins and mutters a single word as his silver irises focused on hers. “Perfect.” Seeing as how she just stepped back from him, he throws his blade at her, high, towards her upper chest. Simultaneously he goes low, and body checks her at the waist. She could either stop him, or the blade, and this time, jumping backward was not an option.

Seeing him go for such an ingenious two-pronged attack had her in a moment of dread: the blade was high, but not too high. The body check was low, but not too low. Dodging one made the other a threat, and that stepping backwards had her hit by both. She was in a corner, but that just meant one thing.

If you can’t dodge, you attack.

She ducked low to meet Hanus, planning to avoid the blade above, but she kept her sword in hand and thrust forward with the blunted edge, aiming for the general’s forehead. She wasn’t factoring in anything like mercy or what would happen if she damaged a hero of Renalta: She couldn’t afford to. Instinct and anger were holding the blade as much as Alicia herself.

He brings his arms up in front of himself as he had already intended to tackle her down with the blade coming his way. Allowing it to slip between his wrists, he then snaps it at the midpoint and finishes his charge as he brushes the broken blade aside, tackling her with enough force to send her reeling a few feet onto her back. Keeping up the charge and taking advantage of her anger, he slides his feet along the floor and then jumps, intending to land on her prone figure. “It’s OVER!” He yells triumphantly.

Her over-reliance on her weapon proved to be a major fault, as suddenly the blunted blade was made redundant and her backside hit the floor. She wished she had the good common sense to just yield, then and there. If she really wanted, she could invoke the right of first-blood. She had every chance to get out, to denounce the bet: declare herself the winner, then and there.

...but pride was a dangerous bed-fellow, and pride had her determined to at least make Hanus work for the honour of humiliating her again. He heard him before she saw him, a flying missile intending to pin her down and win the duel. She had already learned that strength was hugely in his favour, even when she had a weapon and he was unarmed. Options were limited and defeat seemed certain. She had only one real shot left, and that was the riskiest one yet.

She waited until Hanus was as close as possible, the wolf looming above the lamb, and then she lashed out with a knee: bringing it up with the intention of introducing it to his face. The image of his nose bashing against her knee was enough of an imaginary boost to make her forget how foolhardy the plan was.

As he descends he doesn’t notice the knee until it’s too late. It strikes him in the chest, and the entire room winced as they heard an audible crack sound. Hanus exhales, eyes displaying a hint of pain despite his berserker training. He retaliates, however, and shoves her knee down, then presses a wrist against her throat. She was pinned, it was over, though judging by the grim look on his face, she had managed to do a little genuine damage to him. The soldiers standing nearby stared, silently. They knew he had won but Alicia had actually managed to do what none of them could: Harm a legend. Hanus slowly stands up, rubbing the left side of his chest gingerly. “That’s two ribs.” He states plainly, though the corners of his mouth raise slightly. “Well done. However, you should have used my momentum earlier, and closed in to trip me.”

The soldiers look at each other and nod, once again coming to a quick consensus. “Twenty seconds, about. Give or take a couple seconds.” Hanus spits out a little blood as the ribs were already starting to heal, and offers Alicia a hand back up onto her feet. “Any normal man would have lost when his ribs were broken. Thus, I will go to the ball with you.”

The blow to his chest had sure as hell sounded good, but it had not felt good to her at all. While she hadn’t broken any bones, she had bruised her knee in the process and the pain of it all was only silenced by Hanus’ wrist against her throat. She refused to admit to yielding, but the position said it all. She had lost, and by her count: she hadn’t made thirty seconds.

Truth be told, she was surprised that Hanus had went straight to offering advice and, for lack of a better word, congratulations. It was a defeat, but a sweet one indeed. She took the general’s hand as he offered to lift her, standing on her own two, albeit shaky, feet.

The soldiers confirmed her thinking, and she felt her shoulders dip in disappointment. She bit back the bile in her throat and the words on her tongue, but Hanus declared himself the loser in the bout, due to the fact she’d done what most thought impossible. Her body language shifted and she grinned broadly while she looked at her fellow vampire, ignoring some of the seething distaste underneath. “It would be dishonourable for me to force you to undertake all the conditions. I will not force you to dance, General. Besides, think of the scandals it would cause.” she offered a smirk, before extending her hand to his. “I am...thankful for your advice, General Hanus. I will be sure to follow instinct a bit more in the future.”

Hanus cocks an eyebrow at her prideful expression, then grins himself as he pulls her closer. “You act like a Drow woman with that pride. I drove you to anger and it caused you to make mistakes.” He then whistles Gooche over to his side, and scratches him behind the ears. “On a battlefield, make that same mistake again, and your opponent will kill you.” Gooche tilts his head and whines as he looks at Hanus’ still healing ribs. “And then, all that pride, will matter little.” With a click of his tongue and a single point, Gooche returned back to his corner to curl up. The men began to disperse and return to training wordlessly, though they showed Alicia far more respect in how they looked at her.

Alicia was taken aback as Hanus pulled her closer, but she doesn’t lash out in return. Instead, she listens to the wisdom of the general, and watches with a bit of revulsion as her near-dance partner comes closer. Having avoided Gooche as her dance partner was almost as satisfying as having beat the man that angered her. “Would it be too much of me to ask that I spar with you another time at a later date? I sought you out after being...insufficient in the town.”

“Of course. I will be available… Presuming things do not deteriorate further on the eastern frontier.” He stares towards the east, towards the Kingdom of Liveria. “Reports have come in that Witch Hunters have mobilized near the border and have started hunting our kind in the eastern grasslands… I am sure you know what this potentially means.”

The news was new to her, and it was frightful news at that. If vampires were being so aggressively hunted by her home nation it made her future prospects much, much bleaker. “It could mean a great deal of things, none of them good. Do you think Crown-prince Xavier himself is behind this?”

“I don’t know.” Hanus states honestly. “We will only know more come the ball later.”

“All the more reason for you to attend, general.” She smirks at the vampire, having cooled off significantly from her previous prideful rage. “If nothing else, accompanying me to the dance will give you an excuse to stick your nose in Liverian business.”

“Indeed.” Hanus says as he looks at her with a flat expression. “That couldn’t possible be why I offered...”

“General Hanus, you shock me. The very thought of you using me as a platform for your ulterior motives: how very politician-like of you. Certainly not what I'd expect from one of Malaki’s brood.” Alicia smirked at Hanus, taking the chance to jab at his pride, like he had jabbed at hers. The dynamic between them was like a fencing match: he had drawn first blood, but not as easily and with consequence as he had thought he would. There would be many rematches to come, it seemed: both on and off the field of battles and sparing. “If nothing else, I will take my leave, then. It has been an eventful honour, General.” Alicia offers the general a polite curtsey, being sure to keep eye contact with the man, before turning around and beginning to exit the room. She offered one last shout backwards to the vampire hero. “I do hope you choose something nice to wear.”

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