Commander of the Immortal Army
Bisexual, Prefers Women.
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Immortal
Authored by Rhys.
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Post by Connor Lachesis on Oct 3, 2017 21:48:08 GMT
Obligation? Was that what had brought him to this place, buried so deeply in the wilderness and so high in the mountains? Not exactly. He didn’t feel as if he owed the she-wolf anything. Branwen’s mate attachment to him, and the correspondence he’d received of her having sought out a figure from his past, were sources of curiosity more than anything else. He had also been thoroughly wrapped up with assisting Solara, too occupied to address Branwen… for what felt like some time. And then that damned ball had happened. The numbers of Werebeasts slaughtered by the human guards had bathed the hall in blood. That was when he had encountered her – far away from the place where she’d been working with the younger wolf. Realistically, he wanted to stir the stewpot a little. He hadn’t encountered the woman for decades, at least, that was prior to months back when two of her pack had nearly attacked he and Branwen on the fringe of the territory, back when the wolf had first bonded to him. Alvina preferred to keep to her mountain home, and he ever on the move. It also didn’t help that the circumstance of their knowledge of one another was far from friendly, even if it was familiar; in fact, an old gag order he’d imposed on her had stemmed from a debt she owed him from a prior, unrelated matter. They operated more on begrudging, owed favor, rather than any sort of sentiment. Owed favor. That was certainly a factor. Rather than skewering her or slitting her throat back in the chaos of the ball, he had settled for far less lethal means. She, of course, would know what that meant. Reminding her, stirring the pot, checking on the younger wolf if he could find her, and keeping away from Solara to prevent a chance of her dying from his ill-controlled power… All were fair game. Checking to see if any of the pack had scented any herds of horses being transported, hidden away in the mountains, that was yet another. And so, he ascended the mountain. Astride his painted mare with a loud, colorful coat, he was at ease in the place. Of course the mare was far less happy, the scent of predators growing stronger the deeper into the territory they forged, but that was of little consequence. His name, requesting an audience with her – he would be untouched. She kept the group on a short enough leash, and there were enough in their ranks that knew of the arrangement in place that aside. Adjusting his grip so he was more comfortable in the saddle as they started up another steeper trail, his eyes traveled among the shady streaks of brush, wondering just when he’d encounter the first of them. Or the shadowy she-wolf with blood-red eyes. Warin Ilmatar |
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Post by Warin Ilmatar on Oct 3, 2017 22:30:27 GMT
Taking more patrols had been the only thing keeping Warin from hitting someone at this point. Despite the fact that he was sure Alvina hadn't said a word and he certainly hadn't, it seemed like every person in the pack was gossiping about what might be going on between the were-swan and the she-wolf. Though most of them shut up when they realized he was close enough to hear, a few people were more interested in trying to weasel the truth out of him. And some of them hadn't allowed him to jokingly divert their attention to something else. It was like they'd never heard of privacy or something before. And he was trying to give her space. He didn't actively avoid her, but it seemed they both more business like than ever. And if he watched her when she wasn't looking, who could say.
Patrols kept him out from underfoot and away from wagging tongues. Thank the gods he had a quiet partner for the day as well. Unlike many of the weres, he preferred to patrol in his human form, soft-footed as any practice hunter in the jungle that was growing rapidly familiar to him. He's partner today was a young cinnamon wolf who had the good sense to keep their conversation light and away from Warin's relationship problems. Could they even be called that?
"No one's the good guy in war, Logan." He kept his voice to a bare murmur, trusting the wolf's sensitive ears to pick it up as they slipped along deer trails and cut into the deeper woods. Whatever the cinnamon wolf might have responded, their conversation was abruptly cut short as he pricked his ears and paused, nose quivering.
Horse that way, not far. Smells like only one I think.
Warin nodded and followed the wolf through the foliage. It was only a minute or two before they reached a place that overlooked the steep trail so they could observe the possible trespasser. Typically, they would do no more. Watch, observe, and wait for word back. Wait for Alvina to make the call. When Warin saw who it was though, he didn't hesitate. He stepped out onto the trail a few yards ahead of the horseman, shedding any attempt at stealth. He ignored the protests of the wolf in his mind, and his threats to tell Alvina what was going on. Let him tell- it wouldn't change what Warin felt needed to be done.
"What makes you think you're welcome here?" He didn't, really, have a legitimate reason to challenge him. Alvina herself had said that he had chosen the more moderate ground, the harder route of knocking her out instead of more violently incapacitating her or killing her. And yet... and yet Warin couldn't shake the insult of the whole thing. It was a shitty reason to pick a fight, but he was in a shitty mood.
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Commander of the Immortal Army
Bisexual, Prefers Women.
Single.
Immortal
Authored by Rhys.
Offline.
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Post by Connor Lachesis on Oct 4, 2017 0:26:57 GMT
His mare’s ears flicked forward before he ever heard them, though it was very quickly thereafter that the pair appeared before his eyes. Or rather, a man did. Judging by the flaring of the mare’s nostrils, Connor could make a guess that he wasn’t alone. That was not unreasonable, given it was pack territory. Staring down from the mare, he reined her to a stop as he regarded the man, expression every bit as neutral as Alvina’s. This man. His body language was far from wary; it was hostile.
Perhaps this one was untrained. And yet, somehow he seemed familiar. It wasn’t as though the immortal Commander had been paying great attention to how Alvina’s body had disappeared from the hall. And, at the ball, he hadn’t really seen Warin within any proximate distance to really recognize him. Then came the words. He had his own, which he followed up with quickly. “What makes you think you have the authority to tell me I’m not?” His voice came levelly, deeply. “You certainly don’t look like a partner to an Alpha.” Then, the pitch changed slightly. The voice was that of his position, simultaneously dismissive and altogether compelling. “I want to speak with Alvina. Now.”
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Post by Warin Ilmatar on Oct 4, 2017 1:12:57 GMT
Warin didn't like him. Whether it was reasonable or not, he had decided he did not like the Commander of the Immortal Army. His posture was easy, not relaxed but ready. His response garnered a laugh, short with an edge of mockery from the were swan. The demand only spurred the smile on his face- a smile that might have been more like a smirk. Had he been given to snarling perhaps he would have fallen on that instead.
"No." The refusal spurred right on the heels of the demand. Connor was not his leader. He owed him no respect and certainly no obedience. At this point spurning the orders of people he didn't like was practically his hobby. "Why don't you come down off your high horse and we can see how you fair against one of us in our right mind."
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Commander of the Immortal Army
Bisexual, Prefers Women.
Single.
Immortal
Authored by Rhys.
Offline.
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Post by Connor Lachesis on Oct 4, 2017 1:28:46 GMT
Connor stared down his nose at the other man as his body remained firmly planted in place. As if his refusal hadn’t been communicated with that gesture, Warin’s words flared… with an aptly placed insult. Now, Connor was not the sort to fancy himself above a scuffle to assert himself; not the type to play off of a Do you know who I am? type of threat. It would be easier to prove a point with a demonstration. He enjoyed the thrill of a good fight.
It was then that the Immortal man felt it, felt an impending tug deep within his gut – a deep pull toward the impending conflict. And yet, feeling the air practically crack as he looked at the other man, he knew what was to come. This was a far different occasion than his last encounter with Weres in this territory. Uninjured, awake… This would be easy. “Alvina is going to have your hide for this. Maybe I’ll leave it intact for her.” Regardless of that last appeal, almost obligingly he slipped from his mount.
His steps were light, a contradiction despite his solid stature, as he closed the space between them a few paces. He didn’t dare get his mare caught in the crossfire – his dark gaze practically boring into the other man as his hands loosely hung at his sides.
It was in that moment that the cinnamon colored wolf which had accompanied Warin on the patrol truly took off to go seek out their leader.
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Post by Warin Ilmatar on Oct 4, 2017 1:55:48 GMT
Warin heard his partner turn to leave, knowing full well what that meant. He waited patiently as Connor dismounted, uninterested in getting the lovely mare caught up in their fight. His issue was with the man, not his horse. And perhaps the Commander was right (alright, he knew Connor was right) but some part of his was satisfied by the calm acceptance of his challenge. Let Alvina take a piece out of his hide for this- he could accept that. He did not, however, declare such. For all that Warin jested and enjoyed sparring with words, this was not the time for it. His stance shifted subtly- there was a similar lightness to them, these solid fighting men.
He moved when Connor had finished approaching, letting him choose the distance the engagement would start in. His body felt light, the way it felt when he was in flight and for a moment his mind cared for nothing except the fight they stood at the threshold of. Adrenaline began it's slow seep into his blood. He closed the distance between them. Faster than a human but not as fast as he could move if pushed. He feinted a punch to the Commander's jaw, then tried to catch one of his arms and slide sideways- in a grapple, a werebeast typically had an advantage by sheer virtue of strength.
And it would've been his pleasure to give Connor the same treatment he'd given Alvina.
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Commander of the Immortal Army
Bisexual, Prefers Women.
Single.
Immortal
Authored by Rhys.
Offline.
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Post by Connor Lachesis on Oct 4, 2017 2:27:23 GMT
The Immortal shifted his weight onto the forward part of his feet seconds before Warin's body gave way to motion. In a flash, the mouthy Were was dodging in close. A hand sailed for his face. Connor remained still as Warin's fist flew forward, eyes narrowing as his own body began to move. The man was too obvious – the movement not carrying the speed of intent. Or he was simply stupid. When he saw the posture begin to change, he knew what was coming.
It was a maneuver taught to gain hold on opponent. Distinctly militaristic in its origin, and very characteristic of a Were. Connor’s history; for only three hundred years had he been a part of the service. Though he was trained to fight with the cohesion of a unit, that was not where he excelled. He had pursued many other disciplines.
Rather than aiming to fight his way out of a grapple which would likely be as inescapable as an iron shackle, he twisted his arm at the last second, folding the limb inward. Presented was the point of his elbow, guided by a sharp thrust aimed at the man’s side as he hunched his body lower, weight shifting forward, his feet planting solidly into the ground.
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Post by Warin Ilmatar on Oct 4, 2017 16:14:03 GMT
Warin missed his grip and checked his own momentum, shifting to keep Connor in front of him and to try and control the distance between them. He misjudged slightly and the elbow clipped his ribs. The werebeat was thankful that the ribs had healed cleanly there and no longer bothered him, otherwise the blow likely would have doubled him over. It also indicated just how long it had been since he'd even sparred in earnest with someone who knew what they were doing. The sword had always been Warin's weapon of choice and swordplay frequently ended in a grapple if you both knew what you were doing. Here though, the engagement was different and he was pointedly out of practice.
Now he moved in earnest. He brought his arm closest to Connor in and up, trying to take advantage of the man's somewhat forward shifted weight to bring his elbow down on the back of his neck or between his shoulders. His body twisted into the motion to add power behind it, his far hand snaking in close to defend against a return blow or to follow up. Unarrested, the move would carry Warin around to Connor's rear.
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Commander of the Immortal Army
Bisexual, Prefers Women.
Single.
Immortal
Authored by Rhys.
Offline.
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Post by Connor Lachesis on Oct 4, 2017 16:43:03 GMT
Connor’s weight shifted, though not quickly enough to extricate himself from the other man’s range altogether. Warin’s own elbow came down hard, a little more to one side than squarely between his shoulders, something which immediately prompted the clenching of teeth on his part to stifle a small grunt. The man was moving then, seemingly trying to get behind him. Seeking to gain a hold. He saw the flash of a hand, ready to follow the motion.
The Immortal wasn't about to allow that. He unfolded his arm, the one formerly presenting the elbow. Rather than striking, he directed the limb outward to interrupt the man's movement. Aiming to catch Warin about the middle. If it failed, they'd grapple; he himself would probably be thrown. If he succeeded, his left forearm would wrap tight and high around the man's thigh. Heaving his weight upward, planting his own feet, Connor's grip would tighten further before he sought to direct the man's momentum down - effectively heaving him as one might toss a sack of flour. The one issue would be Warin's own training. It would've been easy enough for him to wrench his arm out of the grip that was the goal of the movement, as his body sailed for the turf below. And in doing that, Connor's own arm would be vulnerable.
In the far distance, a small cacophony of howls sounded as the message of their conflict was passed along to reach Alvina.
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Post by Warin Ilmatar on Oct 4, 2017 17:13:06 GMT
There was some satisfaction in landing that blow, even if it was not as clean as he'd have liked. But then, fighting like this was never clean. There were a few gentleman's rules, if you chose to follow them. Still, he failed to force the Immortal to overbalance quite as quickly as he'd anticipated and he almost missed the movement of his arm. A sound that was somewhere between a hiss and an abbreviated curse escaped him as he felt the muscled arm wrap around his leg.
He didn't fight the throw, trying to take it as he had taken a thousand throws before in practice and in spar- so rarely did real combat involve only this sort of grapple. If he'd thought the Immortal would try to knife him while his back was in the dirt, he might have tried something different. Instead he twisted to catch hold of the arm left vulnerable by the throw. It was less than elegant and as soon as he thought he had something his grip slipped, the glove shifting and beginning to slide free. His other hand shot out as he back thumped into the dirt, knocking some of the wind from him, and caught the Immortal's wrist.
What had been a pleasant buzz of adrenaline abruptly spiked. His heart leapt and his pupils dilated wide. His fingers sprang open as though he'd gripped hot iron and he rolled away, putting space between them for the first time. Warin shoved himself to his feet, pacing back on the path a little. His focus was narrowed to only Connor and to a lesser degree the area around them, watching for things that would trip up his footing. The instant fight or flight response had calmed a little in the back of his brain and he clamped down on the instincts surging just beneath the surface, hoping that disengaging would give him enough time to get his senses back.
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Commander of the Immortal Army
Bisexual, Prefers Women.
Single.
Immortal
Authored by Rhys.
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Post by Connor Lachesis on Oct 4, 2017 17:36:53 GMT
Connor clenched, body going rigid as he full well anticipated the man to twist his arm, and launch him face first into the dirt. To twist, locking his arm in a hold secured by the force of his legs, should’ve been easy for the Were had he achieved that. But then, the Immortal felt the leather covering at his hand go free. Seizing that opportunity, he started to wrench up and away – though, it quickly became apparent that the other man had indeed noticed the lingering glove in his grip. Seeking to secure his hold again, the Were’s grip found his wrist.
And then, at once, the man released, rolling away, distancing himself. The immortal narrowly glimpsed a familiar sight, strapped to his back: a sheath, with the curve of a knife-handle peeking just in sight. Taking advantage of the increased proximity, Connor wiped his mouth against the back of his hand, before quickly kneeling to retrieve the glove. He knew very well what had happened. It had not been something he’d been in proximity to discover prior to Branwen touching him, but certainly it had a potent effect on Weres… if not actually doing anything to them.
Pressing that advantage against a startled beast, though, was not one he was keen to test. The last thing he wanted to deal with was Alvina’s wrath if he skewered a mutt for phasing and biting or clawing in a panic. He exhaled a breath as several feet away, his mare swished her tail, producing a small nickering sound. It seemed she could sense that a wave of predators was beginning to descend the mountain.
It was then that the taste of the conflict got the better of him, as he regarded the other man. His voice came light, goading,
“Is that it? Are you done now?”
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Post by Warin Ilmatar on Oct 4, 2017 17:52:20 GMT
It didn't take long to put two and two together as Connor retrieved the glove and his breath began to steady. Working theory- some kind of fear ability that worked through touch. Gods knew he'd heard of stranger things in his life. But Warin wasn't some fledgling just barely aware of his wings. His control over his beast was firm- though aggressive, a swan was still more likely to flee than fight. To fight as he had, with predators at his side and back and enemies to the fore, control was essential. A little fear was not going to wrest that from him now. Though the muscles of his neck were still tense and the hairs there prickled with unease, a smirk quirked the corner of his lips.
"If you're tired, you're welcome to concede." He met mockery with mockery, matching Connor's tone easily as though the familiar feeling of panic hadn't twisted his gut the moment before and forced his retreat. He didn't think about going for the blade at his back- unless Connor made for a weapon he had no intention of escalating. It had never been a matter of truly causing harm or death, though Warin was fairly certain that both of them were capable of being lethal with their hands.
Again, Warin moved first. There was a greater wariness and seriousness, a heightened state of alertness as he surged towards the Immortal. It seemed at first much like his first approach, though he sought to gain a grip high towards Connor's shoulder, bring them back body-to-body. Allowed to get close he'd hook a leg around one of Connor's trying to throw them both to the ground with himself on top.
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Commander of the Immortal Army
Bisexual, Prefers Women.
Single.
Immortal
Authored by Rhys.
Offline.
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Post by Connor Lachesis on Oct 4, 2017 18:27:27 GMT
A broad grin flashed across his features. He admired the man’s composure, even if he was bold to have challenged him to begin with. To have disobeyed Alvina. That rebellious streak was something he shared, though he wasn’t about to pause. He didn’t want to sing the man’s praises – he wanted to see him lain out in the dirt.
The Were moved again – decisive, more intentional this time. This time, however, no fist sailed for his face. Instead, the force was directed at his shoulder. His arm flew upward at once, using his forearm as a point of collision against Warin’s own to redirect the blow. He’d been just about to followed up with a sharp, quick strike aimed at the man’s armpit, when Warin took him to the ground. Well. That was grounds for this to be over with this as quickly as possible.
Warin’s weight came down heavily over his own. Rather than seeking to push him away, knowing the Were would have the advantage from his position above, Connor’s first inclination as to shield his face from incoming strikes with his forearms. In a flash, however, that changed. He lunged upward. It wasn’t a headbutt, but a move to close the space between them. He sought to throw an arm around Warin's neck, intending to drag him down and put him off balance... something which would free Connor's knee to begin jarring him in the gut.
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Post by Warin Ilmatar on Oct 4, 2017 18:47:44 GMT
There was just a faint moment of pleased surprise in the back of his mind when the trick actually worked. They hit the ground and he shifted to try and get a little more leverage. Expecting Connor to guard his face, he shifted one arm up to try and help lift the other man's arms and free the way for his other fist to drive into the Immortal Commander's ribs.
He did not expect, the lunge upward that trapped his arm between them and pulled him down, an arm around his neck. Immediately, instinctively he tried to twist away but he was hampered by the closeness of the Commander's body. The first strike to his gut was uncomfortable but there was only so much leverage between them. He tried to push his body lower, to make the movement hard, but the shift put him in the wrong position and the next time the knee jabbed him it hit something in his abdomen that made him wheeze, pain trapped behind clenched teeth. He stopped fighting then, though it took a minute for him to unclench his jaw enough to speak.
"Alright, you win." There wasn't any resentment in the words, tight and strained though they were. If allowed, he would roll aside and lay on his back on the path, catching his breath and waiting for the pain to subside.
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Commander of the Immortal Army
Bisexual, Prefers Women.
Single.
Immortal
Authored by Rhys.
Offline.
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Post by Connor Lachesis on Oct 4, 2017 19:16:35 GMT
The ending was far less climactic than Connor had expected. A single, wayward strike in the midst of the struggle – something which just as easily could’ve incapacitated him – caused the man’s body to tighten, then sink down against him. That was his signal to release, allowing him to roll away as he sought to take a moment.
Connor, while Warin laid down to catch his breath, propped himself up. It was after scooting back to give the man a breadth of space that he set to brushing the forest litter from his clothing. His voice came mildly, almost regretful, as he tossed Warin a glance. “That wasn’t half bad. You should’ve caught me in the underarm with your knuckle to break that hold, though.” Then again, what was to be expected when he had lived so long? The Werebeast had gone head-long into a conflict without really knowing.
Nevertheless, the Commander decided in that moment that he didn’t altogether dislike this one. He’d fought in the form of a man, without presenting teeth or claws as others had before when he’d traipsed into the territory. A moment more, and he actually stepped over to extend a hand, to help him to his feet. “What’s your name?”
The sound of brush breaking echoed very quickly thereafter, a dark wolf and several other beasts emerging onto the trail a short distance ahead. Alvina’s eyes were murderous, her teeth bared in a snarl, as she edged forward. Behind the men, the painted mare danced around uneasily. This is not how we do things here. It wasn’t clear just who her voice was directed at. Just what do you think you’re doing?
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