Fight:Tiny Terror Versus The Masked Drunk

Kelay Way

Kelay Way Kelay: the most famous part of the land. Something is happening. But you don't know what and by the looks of all the villagers around, and their confused expressions, neither do they. For the moment though it seems relatively calm, whether it is the calm before the storm though is yet to be seen. Perhaps more can be found out in the tavern to the north? Perhaps shelter in the great cities to the east and west could be found as well? You ponder which direction you should take and wonder if it will lead you onto your destiny be that glory, or death.

Kuyo seemed to be barely capable of standing, yet alone walking, as he stumbled his way out of the tavern and onto the roadway that laid beyond; feet twisting this way and that as he wobbled his way on uncertain legs. The voice had been particularly convincing as of late and Kuyo needed to sedate it lest he give into the temptations of the other mask and so he had spent the day doing just that. The smell of wine hung heavily around him, the floral earthy aroma of fermented fruits wafting off of him whenever the wind brushed past him. Twice, the foxkin almost fell outright but managed to catch himself with his staff each time; leaning hard against it to keep himself from faceplanting outright. "You think you know me but you don't." He mumbled to himself, his words slurring as he spoke them. "Wǒ shì zhǔrén, bùshì nǐ!" Certainly he was garnering strange looks by passerbies who hurriedly avoided him. Drunk, masked, talking to himself in strange tongues, and clad in the unconventional attire of monastary robes and dǒulì. Likely, Kuyo looked more like a madman than a martial master. Yet, even though the mask he wore lacked eyeholes, the drunkard managed to weave and wobble his way around any obstacle put in front of him with a strange sense of awareness and grace that could not be coincidental. A traveller's cart was dodge with a sloppy pirouette and a crowd was navigated through with staggering steps that guided the monk through them without so much as one accidental bumping of shoulders. "You and your master wont win. I'll see to that. I will. Yes." He stammered, a bit of laughter clinging to his words.

Reoh | Further down the street, a crowd had gathered and was hooting and hollering. If Kuyo was to squeeze his way through to see what the hubbub was about, he'd be just in time to see a dwarf man sprawled out on the ground with a fermin in brightly-colored leather standing on a lamppost. She leaped into the air and brought her elbow down on the man's back as he tried to stand, knocking the wind out of him and causing the audience to groan in sympathy. They then cheered as the fermin got to her feet, and another man, an elf, stepped up and lifted her arm in the air. "Once again, the Tiny Terror has defeated her foe! Anyone else think they can best her? Pony up 3 silvers and you could win the pot!" There was a jar filled with silver coins under the elf's arm, obviously the "pot" in question.

Kuyo had been mid-conversation with himself when the noises of excitement caught the long vulpine ears that lay beneath his hat, the foxkin's head slowly turning to look towards the source of all that shouting. He reached a hand up to pluck one of the wine-filled gourds that dangled from the top of his staff before letting go of the staff. As it clattered to the ground, seemingly forgotten, the monk stumbled his way towards the crowd. He pushed his way through, staggering his way passed people with slurred apologies that garnered odd or annoyed looks. When he found his way to the center, he stared long and hard at the elf and her pot; his head tilting this way and that as he examined her with the unseeing painted on eyes of his mask. "One who fights for coin, fights without honor." Kuyo finally said as he slowly turned his head to look upon the fermin, his words clearly directed at her rather than the elf. "Is this truly how you use your fighting spirit? Spectacle and sport?" He paused, a hand lifting his mask just enough so that he could bring the gourd to his lips and draw from it a few heavy gulps. "Then I say to you, your masters should be ashamed of their student." He then added as he swiped a sleeve across the mouth of his mask.

Reoh blinked at the foxkin, his words seemingly having no effect. She looked to the elf, who shrugged at her before clicking his tongue at Kuyo. "Says the man who reeks of wine. A waste of coin, a waste of time. Your parents ought to be ashamed of their son." Reoh tugged on the elf's shirt insistently, and he sighed in annoyance and looked at her. She glared back at him, then pointed at Kuyo with her right hand while making a jabbing motion with her left. The elf shook his head, then cleared his throat. "Now, are there any other takers?"

Kuyo dipped a hand into a pouch at the sash that served for his belt, pulling from it a handful of silver. The monk did not bother to count the coin, dropping whatever amount that he happened to grab into the elf's pot. That hand then went to the ribbon that kept his hat tied to his head, tugging on it until it went loose. Kuyo did not bother removing the hat himself though, instead allowing the wind to catch it and send it fluttering away into the crowd. "The wine gives me power, you see." Kuyo laughed as he lifted his left leg into the air, bringing his knee level with his waist. The gourd was balanced upon that knee as the monk swayed left and right, looking like he could topple over at any moment. His hands lefted in front of him, fingers curled as if they were clutching wine glasses. "Allow me to show you. I accept this challenge."

Reoh tilted her head at the foxkin, then looked to the elf again. The elf scoffed and chuckled, then looked to Reoh and made a jabbing motion. Reoh nodded, but seemed unsure. Whether she was nervous about the fight or concerned about Kuyo's condition remained to be seen. Reoh backed away from Kuyo, and the elf got out of the imaginary ring. Reoh charged at Kuyo, aiming to grab the much larger man and hoist him into the air. Her belt, its blue buckle pumping its magic into her, would make that simple enough.

Kuyo waited for a moment, his body swaying side to side and front to back, wobbling in a slow circle. It seemed as if all it would take were a strong gust of wind to send the foxkin tumbling to the ground but that was part of the beauty of his technique. Were it not that he had specifically trained himself to fight in a drunken fashion, the fermin's charge would have likely easily taken him down with ease. As she closed in on him though, he thrusted his knee upwards to send his gourd into the air; his left hand lunging forward to smack his palm against the airborn gourd, launching it forward like a projectile towards his oncoming opponent. And as he did, Kuyo tottered off to the left as if losing his balance. He stumbled and then spun, pirouetting like a dancer to send himself in a wide circle away from her trajectory. "Lesson one will now begin." Kuyo giggled, his words slurring heavily as he slid himself to a stop. "You telegraph your attack. Trinkets are no substitute for skill."

Reoh 's eyes widened and she somersaulted, the gourd bouncing off her lower back. She rubbed the sore spot and looked at Kuyo, more confused than anything. The crowd began to mumble and look at each other and the elf, frowning, slipped away with the jar of silver. Reoh didn't even notice.

Kuyo pressed forward suddenly and aggressively, charging forth with an abrupt burst of savagery that defied the passive serenity that was painted on his mask. Each step seemed sloppy and uncertain as he staggered forward, his feet falling against the ground in heavy stomps that helped to make him move that much more quickly towards his foe. As he closed in, the monk spun again. But this time, it seemed that his legs became tangled amongst each other and the drunkard tripped over his own two feet. His right hand thrust forward towards the fermin's chest, balling into a fist as he fell forward; using the momentum of his fall to make that incoming blow all the more painful should it connect with its target. And as he fell, Kuyo continued to twist so that his tumble towards the ground might bring him to land flat on his shoulder blade. Of course this too was a set up for an attack much as his fall prior had been, the foxkin would roll to follow that falling punch with a kick towards the sky and, with some luck, his opponent's chin.

Reoh jumped back. She might have been a fighter for fun and profit, but she had been trained to be fast and agile. The foot came careening toward her and she moved to try and catch it. If successful, she would yank the foxkin from the ground and slam him back into the cobblestones. If unsuccessful, she would merely block the blow with a grunt.

Kuyo was indeed lifted and even let out a bit of a startled gasp. It seemed that his own ego had gotten ahead of him just a bit and in his confidence, he had left himself open for retaliation. He was not overly fond of the idea of being bodyslammed though. That seemed like it would be painful. So as he was lifted into the air, Kuyo reached up and gave the fermin's arm a tight hug as he allowed himself to go deadweight; squeezing tightly around where her shoulder and arm met. If nothing else, it might knock her off balance long enough for the monk to regain some semblence of an upperhand. And the fingers that began wiggling against the wrestler's armpit were intended to add distraction to the whole event, tickling her furred flesh. All the while, Kuyo giggled and laughed; utterly amused by his own combative antics. It may have seemed like a cheap tactic, sure... but combat was not always fair.

Reoh let out a strange, startled yelp and tried to shake the foxkin off. The crowd began to laugh and clap, clearly enjoying the show. They might have come for the beatdowns but they were staying for the comedy. Reoh eventually took to banging her fist on Kuyo's head. Not hard enough to cause real injury, but it might leave a bump or bruise.

Reoh hit the ground with a grunt as she found herself in a leg lock. Her belt gave her a giant's strength, but she had to be careful with it, lest she end up seriously hurting someone. She tried to work her leg out from his grip without cracking his knee in the process. She tried to pry him off with her hands, all the while the crowd laughing. She didn't seem to notice that, either.

Kuyo released and rolled away, not much wanting to lay that and struggle against someone who was quite possibly physically stronger than he was. He kicked himself back up to his feet, landing upon them with a hard thud that sent him stumbling forward ever so slightly and Kuyo simply allowed himself to keep tumbling forward until he fell; his torso twisting off to one side as he brought his hand to his chest to point his elbow down towards the fermin. "Time for lesson two. Never let your opponent dictate the fight lest you never gain the upperhand." He fully intended to drive that elbow down directly into her and it did not really matter where. He might have been a skilled fighter but no one had infinite reserves of stamina. The alcohol in his system helped to dull and ignore the onset of exhaustion but his breathing had become heavy with all his attempts at grappling against her.

Reoh got back to her feet and backed away, hoping to gain some distance to reassess the situation. It was then she noticed the elf was missing. She let out another strange cry, one that almost sounded like a real word, looking around frantically. The crowd laughed, and she didn't react. "Baaawww???" she called again.

Kuyo landed hard against his elbow as he slammed into the ground, cringing behind his mask as pain jolted up his arm. He breathed through it though, exhaling heavily as he rolled to his stomach and pushed himself back up to a standing position. His hands raised into striking position as he spun himself around to face the fermin, fingers curled as if wrapped around the necks of bottles. His head tilted when he saw her confusion though and though the zen-like expression painted onto his mask could not show concern, he did feel it for the seemingly frightened creature. Those hands came together, the fist of one cradled against the palm of the other as he dipped himself low at the waist. He held his head high though so that he was always looking at her even as he bowed. "I humbly yield to your strength." He said serenely, the slurred manner with which he had been speaking now replaced with calm certainty. "Find your elf and inform him that you've won your cut this day."

Reoh kept looking around. She didn't seem to even realize he was speaking. She caught sight of him bowing and, uncertainly, gave half a bow in return, then squeezed her way through the crowd. "Baaawww? Baaawww?"