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Spooky Mittens

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  1. Spooky Mittens

    Church On The Hill [Barbarian Raider Attack!]

    [CoTH] While Tirkas took cover behind the coop, the old woman found within her the strength to carry Helena off and away from the immediate danger. Hopefully, the armed Tirkas would prove to be a superior bait and the raiders would not divert. He found a door on the coop that had a pretty simple wrought iron handle and hinges. This was the door used by the farmer to reach into the nests and collect his eggs, so it needed only be sturdy enough to keep the wind out. Tirkas ripped it from the coop with relative ease and gripped it such that he could rest it against his arm and protect his head from one side. He gripped his spear underhand then, resting the shaft against the point of his gauntlet. Before he could do anything else, one of the soldiers rounded the corner. Tirkas smelled them long before he felt the footfalls on the soft turf. The spearman would turn the corner to find Tirkas staring him in the face with shimmering green eyes, his reflective retinae dancing in the flames. He parried Tirkas' thrust with the shaft of his spear, wheeling his weapon around in order to bring it back in line with the elf's face. Having both hands on his weapon made this an easy enough task, having superior leverage in almost every regard, but Tirkas planned for this. He lunged in, knowing that he could expect the others to be set upon him in another moment. He leaned forward and drove the coop door into the shaft of the raider's spear, turning his own spear around with the force the raider applied so that he could thrust with the blunt butt of the shaft into the man's face. He released his hold on the door and took to gripping the raider's spear shaft. His aim was the eye socket to inflict pain and disorient the man and use the chaos to take control of the spear. Pressure from the impact would be used to transition the Tirkas' weapon from it's fully extended configuration back into the dagger form. Following this, Tirkas would wheel around to the side, whipping his left arm about from one side to the other in a one hundred eighty degree swipe. He turned upon his heels and rotated his torso with it, just as five axemen began to surround him, two others still hiding around the corner. As they lifted their axes and swords to rain blows upon the lone elf, a thick green vine burst from where he gripped the raider's spear, casting the weapon out and wide with a woody appendage holding it tight. The vine swept across like an intelligent limb, taking the swords and axes down at their knees and laying them onto their rumps. "Come one or a hundred men, it makes no difference to me." He growled as the spearman drew a long dagger and rubbed his eye. "You'll be joining me in hell all the same!" He bounded over the axemen as they began to recover their footing, making a direct charge for the archers in the back. Despite his heavy armor he was quite swift, a result of his elven anatomy. The lands of The Church on The Hill were lush and rich with life. Tirkas could feel the vitality of the hills and the forests flowing through him. His vine returned to his side, forming a coil at his forearm, like a targe. He guarded his face just below his eye sockets, presenting only the top of his head as a very difficult target.
  2. Spooky Mittens

    Church On The Hill [Barbarian Raider Attack!]

    [CotH] "Damn." Tirkas muttered once more, this time with a small twinge of sadness in his voice. He saw the boy rush out of the hot flames, only for a wooden support beam to fall on his back. He sent his lady love sprawling onto the ground in front of the home, but she was unconscious it seemed. The old lady, she rushed to Helena's side. Tirkas took a step forward to offer advice. They could not stay here, none of them. The old lady, the unconscious lass, and Tirkas the Green Knight. All three of them were sitting ducks. He opened his mouth to speak before his heart sank in his chest. The sound of a bowstring, the whistle of an arrow, and the loud metallic PTANG of an iron arrow head connecting with the spinal plate of Tirkas' brigandine vest. He had two choices in this moment. Beat feet and make his escape, or stand firm and let the old woman run. Neither scenario had any guarantee of success, but only one had a chance of keeping Helena safe. An old woman couldn't carry the girl, and Tirkas could not outrun nine raiders with his kit with an extra body slung over his shoulder. "So be it." He made the stupid choice. To stand his ground. "Get to safety, crone." Tirkas yelled to her as he slipped away from the street. He sought any sort of cover he could find, for these men would eventually hit a soft spot woth their arrows and Tirkas was much interested in not letting that happen. A nearby chicken coop would have to suffice. @Vansin @Fierach
  3. Spooky Mittens

    Church On The Hill [Barbarian Raider Attack!]

    [COTH] Tirkas really should have seen this coming. The chances that Ruska's lady love would be found in imminent peril was obviously high, so why would it come as a surprise to the elf that the girl was, in fact, caught in a fire? Yet here Tirkas stood, wide-eyed, as Ruska charged into a burning house to save his precious Helena with the kind of fervor that only a desperate young man could muster. Tirkas reached a hand out to grab for the boy, but he was too late by a mile. He merely stumbled forward and shouted after the lad. "Ruska, no!" But this call would likely go unheeded. How could you stop a boy from trying to save the object of his infatuation if he still had breath in his body? Words alone would never work. He was going to do this, and there was really nothing Tirkas could do to help him now. The elf was not emotionally invested enough to risk running into an inferno, and he wasn't dumb enough to think he would do anything besides getting in the way anyway. So he turned his attention towards the old woman. She was likely unmovable with words and Tirkas wasn't about to carry her off over his shoulder. He also wasn't about to stay here and wait for the house to burn down for nothing. "Damn." He muttered, stuck between his desire to escape and his desire to help Ruska. "Ten seconds. . ." He finished to himself out loud, making his thoughts real. He would give Ruska a moment to emerge, then he'd take the old lady and leave. @Fierach
  4. Spooky Mittens

    Church On The Hill [Barbarian Raider Attack!]

    [CotH] "At once." Tirkas replied. He was finally able to put a name to the expression he'd seen on the boy's face before. It wasn't something you could easily mistake so it was obvious that she was someone he cared for. The way he described her as the daughter of my father's friend rang untrue in Tirkas' ears. No, the girl I am in love with seemed a more fitting description even if Ruska wasn't yet ready to say it out loud. So the pair would run off towards the main section of the village, away from the bonfire and towards the people. Tirkas held his spear with the tip pointed high, held well above the heads of passers-by. They would have very little time to actually find Helena, and once they did the town would likely already be beset by raiders. Tirkas was, as said before, only one man. He couldn't guarantee his own safety, let alone the safety of a village, but with a bit of luck and quick thinking he might be able to protect a boy and the object of his affections. "What does she look like, Ruska? This Helena of yours?" Tirkas called over the jingle of his armor and the sounds of panic. Two sets of eyes could search faster than one. @Fierach @Vansin
  5. Spooky Mittens

    Church On The Hill [Barbarian Raider Attack!]

    [CotH: The Feast Bonfire] So the boy chose to parry with his forearm when he had enough time to parry with his stick. Tirkas had purposely taken the long way round by whipping his stick around his head before striking, if Ruska had controlled his swing, he could have diverted and intercepted Tirkas' blow with a schrankhut motion. This spoke to the boy's inexperience, which was to be expected at his age. “Lad, your moves are too wild. Tighten up.” Tirkas began, pointing his stick directly toward Ruska with his hand-shake grip. He pressed his thumb flat against the back and kept pressure with his third and fourth fingers, while the first and second acted to control. He bent his knees, turned his toes left, and hinged his waist so that his leading right shoulder was almost 90 degrees above his right heel. “Whether a stick or a sword, the tool in your hand is an extension of your arm lad. Hold it firm, but fluid, like this.” He explained while Ruska was lost in his own imaginings. Tirkas wondered if he was listening, and furrowed his brow as he saw Ruska look away from the fight at something else. Then Tirkas heard a crash, and the sound of roaring flames kicking up elsewhere. He turned and took in the sight, catching a glimpse of the last bit of fire falling from the sky upon the village. It's a raid! He thought, running through his mind for what to do. He had heard the rumors that bandits had been plaguing the roads around these parts lately, but this seemed a bit more sophisticated than you'd expect from your average highway robbers. Tirkas was one man, he could not hope to stave off more than two or three at a time, perhaps five if he used his magic. Even then he couldn't guarantee anyone else's safety, especially against an organized force. “Stay near, if you want to live.” He said to Ruska, throwing his stick to the ground. He reached for his dagger and tore the weapon from his belt. It was a curious blade, about a foot long with a grip that was far too long. Tirkas held it in both hands and tightened his grip with an audible leather crackle. Drawing his hands apart, the dagger grip erupted in both directions with a dim evergreen flash, solidifying in a new configuration a moment later. His one-foot-long dagger suddenly became a seven-foot-long spear. Tirkas offered no weapons to the boy, if he was seen wielding he would become a target. Tirkas was unfamiliar with this town, and he was too far away from the most obvious shelter on the top of the hill. Retreating into the outskirts seemed a decent idea, to slink away in the dark. Though that would likely draw some attention if a large group did it. People around the bonfire were already scattering and looking for loved ones. “Ruska! Have you any that you love? We will find them.” Tirkas added, motioning for the boy to lead the way. @Fierach@Vansin
  6. Spooky Mittens

    Church On The Hill [Barbarian Raider Attack!]

    [CotH: The Feast Bonfire] Smart. Ruska stopped his forward momentum and let Tirkas' strike miss him. He was getting sharper in such a short amount of time. Tirkas allowed his weight to continue carrying with his original motion, putting his left heel down and sliding his right foot across the wet grass, turning to face Ruska all the while. He turned his toes on both feet to face slightly to his left and returned his stick to a middle guard position. In sabre schools, this arm position is called carte. There is great variation between teachers, but the similarity is that the weapon is held mid-torso with the palm of the hand pointed up. Tirkas held this position below his right breast. He could see that Ruska was getting frustrated, but he had that youthful spirit. He wanted to learn and improve, but he simply didn't know how. This was an area where Tirkas could be most helpful. He didn't answer Ruska's question right away, letting the boy act out his next maneuver. Tirkas performed the same slip of his left leg as before. "Eyes up boy!" He shouted, digging his left heel in and note that Ruska was not watching Tirkas' upper body. This would make it difficult for Ruska to tell how Tirkas was going to defend himself in the long run, which wasn't so important on the boy's mind at this moment, nor relevant to his immediate actions. He countered this strike differently from before, intercepting Ruska's blow with a hooking motion of his own stick. The carte position was important to this as Tirkas needed to crank his wrist in this movement, pushing Ruska's blow slightly higher, and much further to Tirkas' right than he would have probably intended. This put Tirkas' arm in a position where his forearm was practically perpendicular to the ground, and his upper arm was at a ninety-degree angle to his torso. Rotating his wrist and forearm, then extending at his elbow and maintaining his momentum from his parry would bring his stick over his head and back around to strike Ruska across the cheek on his right if he wasn't able to react fast enough. "Protect yourself when you strike, gain control over the space first!" @Fierach
  7. Spooky Mittens

    Church On The Hill [Barbarian Raider Attack!]

    [CotH: The Feast Bonfire] Tirkas steeled himself against Ruska's fierce gaze. He knew that look because once upon a time he gave that same look to his own teacher. The boy would grow more vicious with his next approach, and Tirkas would use the fire in his heart to cement a lesson in his mind. Tirkas didn't look unnerved, but he visibly inhaled and exhaled as if to still his heart. He wouldn't disappoint either, because he came at Tirkas with a very powerful blow. Probably the simplest, strongest stroke if we consider pure biomechanics. Tirkas met this blow by sliding his left foot behind his body, a few inches past the outside of his right foot and a couple of feet behind. He moved his right hand out now, intending to intercept the strike laterally, where leverage was weakest to push the strike off it's intended path. He leaned his torso slightly right as well, pulling his head offline from the strike. The tip of Tirkas's stick threatened to whack Ruska on the side of his left eye socket if Ruska pressed forward. "Strong, but obvious!" He shouted through the process of the maneuver. @Fierach
  8. Spooky Mittens

    Church On The Hill [Barbarian Raider Attack!]

    [CotH: The Feast Bonfire] So Ruska rolled off his left side, back onto his back, and arched his spine, in some bid to keep Tirkas from hitting him atop his head while positioning for his next move. Well, he would keep Tirkas from striking the top of his head, but the stick might just barely clip his left ear instead. Ruska then tried to clamp his legs down around Tirkas's waist with his calves. With his free hand, Tirkas simply shoved down on Ruska's right leg and signed, pulling his left leg back towards his right immediately after. "That's all wrong, lad." Tirkas started, speaking loud enough to be heard over the rain. "This isn't fun for anybody." He said in a somber tone as he tossed his stick at the boy. "Once more, on your feet." Tirkas backed away one more step and held a hand up to the crowd. A man among them tossed a fresh stick, only a couple inches shorter than the first that Tirkas had just tossed to Ruska. It seemed these simple folk appreciated sporting behavior. Tirkas gripped his stick now, leaving about eight inches of space below his grip, and roughly 16 inches more in front. He rested the stick upon his right shoulder. "Before this is through, I'll have beat you into a proper swordsman." @Fierach
  9. Spooky Mittens

    Church On The Hill [Barbarian Raider Attack!]

    [CotH: The Feast Bonfire] So Ruska decided to fall to the ground without trying to recover his footing. He didn't even grab for Tirkas' sleeves or jacket, and this fact wouldn't go unnoticed. He dropped to his buttocks, rolled his body left and sent a kick aiming towards Tirkas's right leg. It would never arrive. When Ruska's butt touched the ground and Tirkas felt the thump of his weight through the soft dirt in front of him, he acted. He stepped towards Ruska, turning his pelvis to face him square on, and in this process cut off the path from his left side to the inside of his right leg. He placed his foot down with the toes facing his left side in anticipation of later bringing his right foot forward near the boy's head. Ruska then, instead, made contact with Tirkas's left leg from the outside, more specifically the top rim of his greaves from the front due to the turn in his leg. The force of the blow would lack its maximum momentum, but it had enough to cause Tirkas' foot to slip along the wet grass slightly, halting his forward movement. Luckily his weight was still on his right leg. In the movement for this step, he performed a downward strike with his stick, flicking the tip forward with a movement of his wrist. The strike was all speed and lacked power, but striking the crown of the boy's head or his temporal plate would sting all the same. Ruska's right arm was free, so he could easily parry this blow if he saw it coming. @Fierach
  10. Spooky Mittens

    Church On The Hill [Barbarian Raider Attack!]

    [CotH: The Feast Bonfire] Disappointment. It was something everyone would eventually have to face at some point in their life. Most people faced a little bit of it every single day. For someone like Tirkas, who spent most of his time alone, it was a somewhat rarer occurrence, but it was something he was definitely feeling in these few fleeting moments between tempos. He imagined that Ruska would soon be feeling the same thing. He sought to close the gap, to seal off Tirkas from being able to execute the specific kind of lever lock he was hoping to pull off. This was of little consequence, as his end goal was still within reach. By moving forward in this specific way, with this specific goal in mind, Ruska was playing into Tirkas' original plans, but in a slightly different way. Ruska was stepping forward and trying to bury his face in Tirkas' chest. The very same place where Tirkas had moved his hand to when he'd first made to strike the boy along his nose. Originally Tirkas meant to backhand him firmly, but the force of his blow would be dampened because of the move closer to his hand, however, Ruska had forward momentum of his own. That meant this became more as though Ruska were headbutting Tirkas' metal hand protection, just right across the side of his left eye socket. Upon feeling contact, he would then move his hand down to Ruska's shoulder, aiming to get his hand somewhere around the boy's clavicle both to keep him at bay and as part of what he was doing with his legs. SImultaneously, actions were taking place below the belt. Ruska had stepped in and turned to shoulder check Tirkas. The elf felt the boy's arm, so he knew what was to come next. The clever positioning of his right foot inside Ruska's inside line had been done for a circumstance like this. As Ruska stepped in to perform this shoulder check, Tirkas quickly swept his right foot out, turning with Ruska's movement, and sweeping his left foot with the heel of his right. With Ruska unable to see this maneuver he had the tactile sensation to go off of, but honestly, if he found some way to avoid having his foot swept then Tirkas was out of his depth as to how. The sweep would widen Ruska's stance and destabilize his position, allowing Tirkas to shove his shoulder with the left hand and watch the boy stumble, assuming he was able to obtain the hand position he wanted. These two movements worked in unison to achieve a similar goal to what Tirkas had first wanted, only this time he was aiming to knock the boy on his butt rather than his face. He would have to see how the boy reacted before determining whether to take this to the ground or simply let him fall. @Fierach
  11. Spooky Mittens

    Church On The Hill [Barbarian Raider Attack!]

    [CotH: The Feast Bonfire] The boy was sturdy, but his fate was already sealed with this last maneuver. With vision blurred and head rattled, he stabbed his stick blindly for Tirkas' armpit. Traditional wisdom suggested that one should aim their attacks for the gaps in their opponent's armor, but often times the inexperienced overlooked an even more important aspect of close-in fighting. That thing was grappling. If you want to stab an armored foe in his armpit, you first have to stop him from moving out of the way. A simple rotation at the hip was enough to completely throw off a thrust like this. That was exactly what would happen here. Tirkas' strike had landed true and he carried through the motion, turning his wrist to bring the stick back around as though he intended to give point to the boy's temple. Tirkas was moving up along Ruska's left flank as part of the initial strike, as intended, and he turned as he moved with his left foot already crossed behind his right and planted. He dropped that left foot to the heel and slid his right foot forward land about where Ruska's right foot was, slightly askew towards the inside line of the boy's stance. In this motion, Ruska's arm would collide with the inside of Tirkas' armpit instead of the stick, and Tirkas would loop his right arm around quickly to trap the limb. He pointed his own stick downward to start, turning it while he dropped his elbow until it would eventually come up between himself and Ruska, trying to slip the stick between his body and the boy's. He swung his left arm forward in a back-hand aimed for the left side of Ruska's face. Assuming Tirkas was successful in this, he would tighten up on his right arm, turn his body left and crank down on Ruska's shoulder and lodge his stick in the crook of Ruska's neck. He aimed to grasp the stick after performing his back-hand and use it as a lever, one end on the underside of Ruska's left arm, the other on the back of Ruska's neck. He aimed to use it as a way to trip Ruska over his right leg and plant him face first in the grass. @Fierach
  12. Spooky Mittens

    Church On The Hill [Barbarian Raider Attack!]

    [CotH: The Feast Bonfire] Tirkas remained utterly serene, even as Ruska called for a second stick. Tirkas was keenly aware of the boy's facial expression, and for just a flash of a second, he looked as if he would lose his nerve. Perhaps it was the fact that Tirkas was almost fully armored, or perhaps the sword hanging from his left hip, or even the long-hilted dagger slipped into his belt. There would hopefully be no bloodshed here tonight, but Tirkas was clearly no stranger to it. So Ruska advanced with all the fervor one could expect from a fresh-faced young man. He made a beat for Tirkas' stick from above. Tirkas merely pulled his elbow in and tilted his wrist to his left, allowing the beat to pass harmlessly, while also stepping with his right foot off to the side, following Ruska's stroke. He moved his left hand out from behind his back and pressed his forearm flat to his chest. Tirkas snapped his right arm forward and flicked his wrist back towards the right, curling his fingers around the grip a fair bit tighter with full intentions of slapping Ruska across the bridge of his nose with that stick. Tirkas planned to continue his step, drawing his left leg in to cross behind his right, both rotating and accelerating his body along Ruska's left flank. @Fierach
  13. Spooky Mittens

    Need someone to beat my friend with a stick

    You can try, @Pink Fluffy Cutiefly, but I won't just roll over and take it ;3 Unless you buy me off with candy.
  14. Spooky Mittens

    Need someone to beat my friend with a stick

    We're gonna bust em all up, just come at me with whatever. We'll say Tirkas has one that's 30 inches long to start and see where that gets us. @Fierach I will at least give everyone a good sticking! Preferably on the buttocks. @Deus Ex Aizen
  15. Spooky Mittens

    Need someone to beat my friend with a stick

    For SHAME! Double wide is the only thing that can satisfy my craving. @Narcissa And yes! He must have his dreams dashed so that he can realize that love is the best gift after all ;3 @Fierach
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