Fight:Demeter and Caltarok Spar
This is a Warrior's Guild RP.
Summary: A casual training session agreed upon by Demeter and Caltarok in previous RPs and a note left by Caltarok with Demeter giving time and place at the end of a tourney bout. The match goes from friendly training to something more intense and a strengthen bond of warriors.
Frozen Hunting Grounds
As you come into the area a chill rolls over your body. The old hunting grounds used by the frost giants are now used by you. The grounds are used to hunt for food, skill, and to prove ones self within the frost giant community. Its is also said that exiled frost giants are forced to live within this wilderness, and are never to return, unless they wish to be killed. From this path you may head east, back into Frostmaw, or west further into the hunting grounds.
Caltarok || Having arrived at the old hunting ground used once by frost giants to prove themselves, Caltarok had taken advantage of the tranquility and infrequent use of the place to release his transformation and be in his true form. He had no concern of being seen this day as the winds carried light snow and the day's light had bathed his scales to a brilliant white fitting in with all the snow around him. Perfect weather he mused for hunting and feeling the freedom that only being himself in tune with the nature around him could give. With a firm shake of his head, the revelry had ended. He expected that Demeter would be along any minute and he wanted to have a make-shift ring in place for their spar… something he really looked forward to after befriending the avian. She had given him a most precise gift in her trust, friendship, and calling him family; it was only fitting that he made sure this was given his utmost in return. Finally after a hours of tearing trees down from the forest in the west, shredding their limbs, and laying them out in a ring fashion that would measure easily three leagues in a circumference. Landing in the middle of the makeshift ring he awaited. One approaching the boundary line, would see the varying trees laying on their side. Quite a few a mile apart making it hard to vision the field without having first seeing it from the sky.
Demeter had been scouting the area of Frostmaw nearby when from the skies she thought she caught sight of Caltarok, staying a distance away as she spies on him. It was easier for her to spot him; choice of attire didn’t seem to change. Oddly enough she started to almost sense him, blaming it on claiming each other as family. Or was she just silly and really could not? She gave him extra time as Demeter awaited on an idea to show up, once it came to her, she smirked wickedly as her brows lift. Noting the opening that she had not recalled hours ago, wondering if he had something to do with it. Noting the way, the trees were lain about, instantly her suspicion was answered. He had set up an area for them to train. Bending her wings behind her as she began a nosedive, her bow in the left hand as she laced an arrow with her right hand. Aiming for a good two feet away from his feet, spreading her wings out to catch her before she slammed into the ground. Jerking her feet forward to land feet first. “Hey Cal boy.” Placing her bow in front of her with both hands resting on top, follow by her chin.
Caltarok laid in a bit of a half-slumber till her head the whistling of the arrow in the air. Immediately coming too, he begin his transformation back to an human as fog formed giving camoflauge to hide the shrinking body. Instead of the normal 'greens' that he wore in the southlands, he had trade for the winter-wolf leathers and fur skin cloaking. The white on the snow would provide additional layer of concealment as he moved slowly avoiding the snow underneath to crunch. He noted the angle of the arrow when it struck the ground and used it to tell him where the attack came from along with the call of Demeter's all to familiar Cal Boy. He chuckles before releasing an arrow of his own at her last location after finally picking her out amongst the grey clouds. The arrow have been placed enough to easily fly over her head just after she landed giving credit to his marksmanship for tracking her trough the rapid descent and knowing when to fire to avoid an accidental injury. In playful tones while casually drawing another arrow, "I missed?! Oh my, hello there sister Demmy"
Demeter had felt the air be cut through as his arrow whistled past her, knowing and hoping the hunter was skilled. Luckily, he was, crinkling up her face at the nickname he gave her. “Demmy? Really?” The crinkling left as she began to laugh, “Hope you are ready.” Watching him, she was preparing for a move, her smile grew wider, “Oh yes!” She screamed, taking off in a run that soon became a charge towards him. Her grey eyes keeping track of his hands, ready to see if he would fire again, wondering if she could grab it from the air and send it back to him. If nothing were fired at her, before she met his body in a collision her wings would expand with a curl to aid her in spinning around him. As she spun around, Demeter would drop down. Thrusting her bow outwards aiming for the back of his knees.
Caltarok smiled watching her charge at him. Indeed another arrow had been unleashed but as soon as it was let go he had imbued it with magic. The arrow would slowly begin to smolder before actually igniting on fire in mid-flight. However, he wasn't aiming at the normal spots head, chest, or wings. He had actually aimed to catch one of her legs either directly to hamper her or to cause light damage by the contrasting temperatures of Frostmaw chilling winds with the heat from the fire. Not looking to verify if he scored a hit, he immediately began moving to jump to his left to avoid any counters of arrows fired or if she could grab the flaming arrow to throw it back at him. If not interrupted, his jump would end in a rolling dive taking him a few feet from where he was in the snow and assisting him from becoming bounded in the snow. In which he would begin an hasty back pedaling retreat know her wings granted far more mobility in the powder than his own human form could ever manage.
Demeter watched as the arrow he released towards her was infused with magic, becoming inflamed mid-flight. Barely moving her leg as she moved to the left as the arrow whistled by, nicking her calf and landing in the ground now behind her. Standing where he was before he moved, “Are we using magic too?” Demeter ask as her pale pink lips gave on a pout, “Game on, sky mate.” Tossing her bow upon her shoulder, dropping down upon a knee. The grey eyes stared out to him, flames began dancing behind her pupils. Tiny flames dancing about her leather attire, traveling down into her left hand that was now curling into a fist. Blowing him a jokingly kiss, before her now fist was covered in flames. Punching the ground applying the large sphere of flames into the ground that was now burrowing towards him, leaving the ground charred. With the release of such magic that had been pent up, a drench with the width of seven inches and a foot deep left in its wake.
Caltarok chuckles at first to her question, "This is a training session… I don't reca-". He gulps at the raging flames coming at him. He was regretting his own trick arrow which caused such a display of strength. With just a few moments to think knowing an escape over the snow from the… well now a literal wall of fire bearing upon him. He drops his bow and tries to focus on the air between himself and Demeter much like Slyphrena had been drilling into him when he met Demeter. Taking a deep breath to calm himself to feel the gentle breeze of the always moving air; just moments before he grasps the magical current and a wall of air can begin to form, Caltarok is hit by the brunt of the attack. The backlash of Caltarok's unfocused and uncompleted spell, however hits him as well. He is knocked flying with flames consuming the winter-wolf fur. The flames are quickly smothered as he lands rolling in the snow four feet from where he was standing. He would remain in this position dazed for a few minutes. The bow that had been dropped in the snow would have survived the onslaught due to the melting snow having soaked the wood before the fire could hit and incinerate the two foot length of wood, but the bow string would be lost.
Demeter knew she shouldn’t grow to worry but she did when she noticed he wasn’t dodging the flames running directly towards him, “Dodge you idgiet!” She took off flying along the ground, her bow held tightly in her hand feeling the air being pulled to him. Slowing down, noticing her was using the element of air to try to take out the flame. His focus was off as it still strikes him down, noting where his bow fell. Moving to pick it up, waiting till he seemed less dazed. “What’s that smell? Oh yeah, you got caught on fire.” Tossing him his bow, letting him pick it up before she approached him. “Block.” She tells him, sweeping her own bow low to strike his leg.
Caltarok shakes his head to clear his thoughts as he catches the somewhat useless bow until he get a replacement to restring his bow. He did regret the loss, but didn't have time to consider this. He easily moved to intercept her bow against his at an angle while he imbued the bow stave with some magic to strengthen it against the attack. If caught, her sweep would be redirected and maybe catch her off guard as he steps in and with his free hand tries to drive an punch into what would hopefully be an semi-open gut shot on her side. If not, he would still follow-through with the punch aimed more with an open palm to push against her arms near the elbow hoping to either cause the arm to bend and throw the balance or cause pain by bending in a way it shouldn't.
Demeter gave a quick nod as he blocked, making sure he wasn’t dazed anymore, and proven. Good, now they can start again. As well, after replacing the bow string. The quick rebuke, and defense he expressed with the magic he put into the bow caused a hiss to escape, causing the avian to be shoved back. His fist met with contact to her lower torso, she moved to grasp at the wrist that belonged to the fist that landed. In hopes she made contact and got a grip. If it were a success, and he didn’t break her grip, she would jerk his arm upwards, twirl underneath it in a form of someone would see in a dance. Bringing his arm with her, twisting and pinning it against his back. Following by kicking at the back of his right knee in hopes for him to drop to his knees with an arm pinned against his back.
Caltarok finding himself caught in Demeter's grip and unable to break free even by applying motion against her thumb with his wrist. He turns into her spin with a bit of a jumpCaltarokroll thus avoiding the twisting and pinning of his arm behind him. However, he is left open for the kick that instead catches him mid-jump in the gut. A grunt is heard from the strike, but he retaliates by attempting to grab the leg just moments after it makes contact. If successful, he would attempt rotating towards Demeter and hopefully causing her to overcorrect her weight thus losing her footing and falling leaving her with the choice to land still holding his arm or to release it to catch herself. If the latter, he would quickly try to roll away from her with the bow stave still in his left hand and poised to defend.
Demeter grinned at even though he didn’t break free from his grip, and the target wasn’t hit he still got kicked, the grin widens at the sound of Caltarok’s grunt. Yet, the grin quickly faded as his grip was a success to her leg. Resulting in her to lose balance. Instead of catching herself, she kept her grip on his arm. Pushing her wings as hard as she could to work on gaining balance before she fell completely backwards, using his grip on her leg to her advantage the other leg sweeping over, unless stopped. Adjusting her wings to aid in her next move, wrapping the free leg around the arm that had the grip upon her captured leg. Moving herself in hopes of flipping them both to the ground, if this was done, she be on her side with his arm pinned between her thighs. Releasing her grip to strike an elbow to his nose.
Caltarok does interfere and catch the second leg within his own by kicking out his own in separate intervals. The first would hopefully send the sweep wide while the second would try to bring it back in as he crossed his own legs. Using her grip on his arm, he would try to adjust his position so he could face-palm her head as they land. As well as continue to rotate towards her hopefully causing pain as the hopefully caught leg was caught at an angle, he would be puling the other leg towards her chest. He hopes that the different positions and pulls would cause her to push back and release the grip on his arm; which he would flow into by rolling quickly away and regaining his footing.
Demeter did not intend for him to use his own body weight to defend against her attack of trying to pin him to the ground with her, instead they both slammed to the ground as both try to over do the other in this now seemingly wrestling match. His face-palm landed, with the force of slamming to the ground causing blood to trickle out of her nose. Her leg that he caught now formed at an awkward angle, sending flaming pain up and down the ligaments. The other leg he was using to push against her chest was hopefully jerked from his grip as her hand released his wrist but giving it a hard twist hoping to sprain it if he didn’t pick up on the pressure being released first. The exact second her moved, she mimicked it, ignoring the cry from pain in her leg. Staying close to him, tossing her bow to the side, using the left hand that once held her bow which sadly now had a crack in the center from the wrestling match. Moving both hands to grab his hair, to jerk his head down towards her for a hard head butt to his nose. If not successful, a punch would be thrown to the center of his torso in hopes for him to lose his breath.
Caltarok thankfully he had picked up immediately when his hand was released and used her own leg muscle trying to break free of his hand and the successful face palm to push off for the aforementioned roll. However, he was not agile enough to get good footing before she was again on top of him. His bow having been lost somewhere in the struggle earlier to catch her leg with his arm. She had been able to grab his hair and tug at. But instead of going straight down, he pushed off his feet into a flip trying to bring a kick down upon where he thought her head might be not calculating for her to head butt him. Thankfully the momentum of the flip would soften the blow and cause the intensity of the jerk to lessen briefly as he went willingly into it and his head would continue the motion. If the shock of his action didn't cause her to momentarily release his hair and allowing a successful escape. His flip possibly landing him behind her and into a roll if she continued moving forward or cutting short and him landing on her back frantically grabbing at her wings to rebalance himself.
Demeter quickly let go of his hair before they were carried on to the ground again, she would not allow them to end up tangled again. Leaning back barely in the nick of time as she caught he leg moving out the corner of her eye, he indeed did land behind her. Moving enough for him not to land on her back, but not enough as the dragon grabbed her right wing. A pretty big mistake due to her hiding razor blades in between the feathers. Her entire body shuddered from the touch to her sensitive wings, he wanted to grab her wing so she leaned away. If he didn’t move his hand away as she moved, there was a chance the blade would dig deep into his grip. Dropping downwards trying to flip away from him to grab her bow, if successful she finished breaking the bow in half. Moving back towards him, fire burning behind her pupils once more. Not running, walking, leaving burnt ground behind her causing the melted snow to quickly turn to ice. Not glancing to his hand to see how bad the damage was, that would be checked on when they call it. Flames erupt along the once bow, spinning it before swinging her arm around her body to hit him with one of the wood pieces across the face. Bringing the arm back around aiming for the side of his ribs.
Caltarok released the wings immediately upon realizing what he was touching. Like Demeter, he rolled forward causing more space to be between them. But he came out of the roll with his sword still in the scabbard unclipped from his belt. He looked at Demeter's face and quickly stated an apology for having touched her wings. He knew how intimate it could due to being a dragon and all, but this was a training battle. Unfortunately, nothing was fair in battle or sacred as they should be. With a sigh, he drew the sword from the scabbard. Holding the sword in his right and the scabbard in his left. Exhausted and nearly depleted of his magical reserves beyond what held his transformations, he once more tries to imbue his sword with magic. All the while moving to hold the scabbard in a low defense and the sword in a high guard position still ready though to slide in for a fast attack. He took Demeter's walk as a chance to relax his muscles to push through the boundaries and limitations of this body. The repeated blows received can be seen however in his face and labored breathing. As she approaches and to him with the flaming batons, fragments of her bow. He tries to swing the scabbard into her arms to delay the blow as he swings his sword down only to find that he over did the magic had caused the blade to melt again… really he could figure the proper amount and heat not to destroy the arrows but the blade he still didn't have the knack. If Demeter is able to press past the scabbard defense, Caltarok would receive the flaming blows that would knock him out and with the added pain from the fire create enough tax on him that his transfiguration spell would falter leaving not a human body on ground with burnt patches of skin. But a dragon sporting bruises in varying places and a dark spot on his head. Breathing would be detected from the smoke and melting snow around him.
Demeter smiled viciously, he could apologize later. Right now, he did not just ignore her rage but the last bit of the fire magic she had. Her own breathing was full of pants, her leg leaving spots of blood on the snow behind her. Bruises ribs were a definite, no escaping that from the punches he had landed on her. Her nose finally stopped bleeding, swelling at that with some bruising appearing which would cause dark circles under her eyes. His move with the scabbard to her arms knocked them back, which the wood had burnt to ash within her grasp missing the moment to strike. The sword having melted caused a deep throaty laugh to escape her, moving her wings to lift her upward prepping for a spinning kick when she stopped mid air to watch him transform back into a dragon. He was as done as she felt, landing down on the ground beside him. “Next time, we borrow wood swords. Yes?” Using her arm to wipe blood off her face which had frozen now, causing bloody icicles to fall to the ground. “I accept your apology, I may have over reacted.”
Caltarok turns his pain soaked and exhausted eyes to face, "Aye…. And maybe we call that the first to drop their weapon loses the match and limitations on how much magic we use." Looking her over again, "I really am sorry about your having touch your wings. I had only meant to rebalance and catch myself…. Unfortunately there was nothing else nearby. Reckon this is a draw or I can concede to your win. Pretty sure it would have been if it wasn't because of blocking your strike." He moves his head to nuzzle her, "You fault well sky sister. I am sure if we had been fighting for real this would have ended in me in worse shape if I tried to remain in this smaller frame."
Demeter gave a nod, cringing as she did. “Next time, no magic. Wood swords. Nice facepalm, Cal boy.” She says as she touches her nose, “If you had broken it, at least we can say it has been broken before. It is definitely a draw, we got a little carried away with magic. If we use magic announce it so we can study what the others looks like while casting?” Her hand rubs along his jaw, “You fault really well too, also proved to me how behind I am on my training too. I promise not to kill you next time.” Slowly with a sharp inhale as she sat up, looking over to him. “I am probably going have to get use to you touching my wings eventually, especially if I become a crutch again.”
Caltarok || As a sort of peace offering, Caltarok spreads his wings around Demeter. He knew somewhat too if either of them became wounded on the battle field that they may deal with this situations. He also acknowledged the fact that she would be the only one he would trust to care for him in this form at this time, but he would not admit that to her for his pride wouldn't fully admit that he could be so wounded despite the beating he just endured. "Definitely… though I hadn't meant to get carried away. Though your shot from the sky made me think this was a full training. At least we now know a little about each others weakness, movements, and all to really push each other. Your firewall was a neat trick had me really struggling to figure a way out with the snow hampering me." Thankful of the fast healing and somewhat light wounds, Caltarok moves to better situate himself. "I will need to feed after all this… Maybe find a few horses or something up here."
Demeter out of reaction she reached for her dagger as his wings wrapped around her, catching herself she stopped. He was the only she would trust to treat her, just not something she would admit to him. Relaxing best she could, trying to adjust to psychical contact. Her hand coming up to run fingertip along the wings, “Call it even now.” Looking over to him, then back to the mess of the area they made. “With how we seem to be, it would end the same way it did. We are both fighters, who lost control and it could had been worse if we didn’t care. Face it, we are dangerous. Especially even more learning each other’s weakness.” Turning to him pointing to her nose that was a nice shade of bruising, “The color look good on me? I am starving myself and want a good drink. I need to refill for other means.”
Caltarok in his growling laugh forces the transformation upon himself partially in fear that any of the Frostmaw guards could pass through the area on why to guard the border. He didn't care to face them as a dragon after having seen other frost giants take down one of the wild ice dragons. In a near pant he sits back on his heels showing just how poorly his clothes had made it from the fight. "True. But knowing each others weakness can help us protect each other or in worse case… well help stop the other during a rage." Caltarok shudder in fear a little for the rage that his kind was known for. He always wondered if that was how the wild ones became lost and as such harbored the fear that he too would become lost and wild. At the question, he looks at Demeter, "Indeed it does. A great reminder to anyone foolish enough to try and rob you just how great of a scrapper you are. Adding to that dangerous look that fits you so well."
Demeter :: “I agree, knowing our weakness helps us block those that seek to harm us by aiding each other as we have vowed.” He has a very small glimpse of her rage; she was sure his dragon rage would be much of a larger bite than her blades would be. Alas, she was about to succumb to the rage and harm her only friend, worse. Moving to turn around, seeing the condition his attire was now from her magics. “We both are pretty good at hand to hand, I think if we were against different people we would had broken bones.” With a roll of her grey eyes, “What dangerous look? I am always dangerous.”
Caltarok laughs briefly at her comment, "Aye, sister you are always dangerous. As dangerous as a dragon either breathing or not breathing fire." Caltarok stands and heads to where their last grappling was to find his bow stave still intact miraculously. Thrown over his shoulder, "Well off to the tavern for me and to get the latest of the tourney. Perhaps I will see you at the next match or at the tavern beforeCaltarokafter a match." Not daring to look and see her reaction as much as he hopes to hear it in her words or movement on the snow, he adds the only honorific he knows from his race for those not of dragon-blood; "Take care Demeter, warrior priestess of dragons. To me dear sister of the sky, you are Demeter ban Oiorerua."
Demeter tries her hardest not to smile, but her lips betray her and she gives a genuine smile. “May I keep getting more dangerous.” Slowly climbing to her feet, her hand resting on the bruised ribs for but a second. “I owe you a bow string, I’ll keep it on me until I see you again. I need to go get stuff to stitch my leg, and then to a tavern for a good strong brew. You will surely see me around again.” She wanted to spend more time with him, but she knew best to try keep distance. Demeter might not had known how the dragon work, but she could tell what he called her, was of utmost honor, “Thank you, Caltarok. My dear brother of the sky and twin of flames.”