Intermediate Shaasskah

[Olvann Coia]

OOC: Self-Modded.

Middle Cryxatum, Era XV Post Fractum

Continued from here.

[Olvann Coia]

It was with some semblance of hilarity that Olvann recalled his last encounter with the great Markener Gaveth. As he recalled, the Vysstichi had been taken unaware by the skill Olvann had managed to absorb from him in a meager two cycles. Fortunately, Olvann had maintained a studious and disciplined schedule of daily physical exertion and practiced combat. If anything, his skills had been honed and the fluidity of his attacks and defenses had increased. He had improved his physique to receive a punishing barrage of blows, increased his strength, his speed and his endurance. He expected that any new techniques he would learn today could and would be mastered as quickly, if not quicker than his basic training with this man.

They entered the exact same training room, decorated with an assortment of dummies that seemed to have recieved regular abuse. Olvann tentatively removed his cloak, revealing a pair of loose black pants, seemingly of the same material. He was bare chested, and the difference was visible from the last time his teacher had seen him. He was scarily maintained. His body the image of a demigod. His skin had taken on the sheen of the purest alabaster, his blood pumping visibly through veins which refused to retreat within his musculature. Though his skin remained perfectly unmarred, it was hardly reflective of the wounds that had decorated his body. Such a perfect specimen would not be allowed to scar, it would have been blasphemy.

Markener said not a word, rather he launched himself at Olvann with a devastating blow that nearly knocked the man unconscious. Olvanns head jarred backward, making him flail his arms and fall backwards, he took four steps backwards in quick succession, attempting to gain a balanced state. One which Markener let him do. The Hayan blinked away the strike that had severely muddled his brain, causing his vision to swim momentarily in a daze. He focused on the Vysstichi, quite upset that he had allowed a blow to be landed on him within a few heartbeats of entering the training facility. His ideals denied the Vysstichi the pleasure of watching him moan, fall to the ground, or complain. He berated himself for not being attentive to his teacher - it was unlike him. He would never fall victim to so successful a strike from shear inattentiveness again. Markener eyed him with a coy grin, expecting him to fall on his face any moment.

The only answer he received was Olvann spitting three teeth into his hand. They could be healed into place later. He backed up to his folded robe and placed them gingerly on top - another reason he wore black was that it rarely showed the crimson that decorated him.

He returned to his previous position. Markener hadn't moved, though his expression had surely changed to one of confusion. He had no idea what Olvann had endured. The Hayan smiled, blood coating his teeth like a Nosferatu and proceeded to finger the bloody gaps in his mouth with his tongue. He surely enjoyed the tart, iron taste of his vital fluid. He had grown into this culture completely and he enjoyed the fact that at least one Vysstichi was unawarely stepping over the line. His line.

He sprung forward, his muscles contracting and then releasing in joyous servitude, he wove low and out, feigning a kick that would crush the Vysstichis outlaying knee. But Markener was fast, as fast as he? No, but he was surely far mor experienced and efficient in combat. He neatly stepped out of range and proceeded to spin about, crushing his heel into the upraised blocking arm of the Hayan. Olvann had become aware that he could place his blocking hand on his head and use his other arm to brace against such an impact. However, the heel was a bony appendage and could easily snap through the arm, so he adapted, moving forward almost imperceptibly as he realized the danger. The attack thudded into his arm, heel slightly past the forearm, doing little damage but shifting the man across the floor with its weight. He wasted no time, launching into a series of punches and counterattacks as he and the Vysstichi joined in combat. Markener chuckled, oh how his student had progressed, his blows were not tapered to allow his student relief any longer, he was not using his whole arsenal of attacks, but he surely could have maimed him by now had the healer not maintained his skill.

Markener absorbed an attack and threw a sinister double feint, ending in a reverse punch that had Olvann on his toes, but not unaware. He rarely became confused or muddled by an opponents tactics, quite sure that his own intellect could outmatch anything that could be thrown at him. Suddenly Markener withdrew, his chest heaving slightly and a smile blossoming on his face. "I see you've not let your skill wane... And have managed to evolve on our teachings. Good I would expect nothing less from one of my students." He said, somewhat irritated that Olvann had hardly broken a sweat, but fully prepared to accept all of his triumphs. "The kick I almost broke your arm with was a Back Hook Kick." He stated with a smirk. Olvann had noted the new kick, though he had hardly anytime to process the move. Markener walked over to a practise dummy and proceeded to execute the kick at knee height, waist and head, finally ending in slamming his heel through the dummies representative brain. "Whoops..." He said, slightly surprised and looking down at the splintered mess. "It can be an exceedingly powerful kick, as you can see." Fortunately, Markener had bitches who cleaned up his messes. "For all intents and purposes, the Turning Kick..." He continued, turning reverse clockwise, instead of clockwise and slamming his foot into a dummy adjacent to the one he just destroyed. The difference between the two kicks was obvious, the turning kick driving the ball of his foot, instead of the heel of his foot forward. "...Is essentially the same, save the rotational direction change. The heel and ball are the strongest part of your feet and will deliver the hardest concentrated hit, but that not to say that a strike from your shin wouldn't cripple a man." He finished, motioning towards the dummy. "Practise both kicks, low, mid and high, I'll be right back." He said and walked out of the training room.

Olvann followed the instruction and took little time in mastering the maneuvers by the time his teacher had returned. Markener was followed by his son Zackner, who leaned up against the wall in exactly the same position he had during many of Olvanns previous training exercises. They both watched as Olvann completed a full set of kicks for each maneuver and then Markener sauntered up to him with an interesting look on his face. Olvann looked past Markener to his teachers offspring and Zackner tossed him a wave and smirk, evidently his father had brought him up to date. "Excellent, I want to see a few in action..." He said, a smirk emerging on his face. "But I thought we might speed this up, seeing as it doesn't look like you've managed to tap into any of that hidden energy." A very real assessment, as the Hayan really hadn't been taxed at all... Yet... "I've picked up a resident Thaumaturge who tends to the students now, comes in every once in a while..." Zackner chuckled and Markener threw him a look that caused him to place a pair of ebony digits against his lips while the rest of his body shook. Olvann knew that if Markener had 'picked' up a Thaumaturge in Vortex it had been quite a feat, there weren't many around. He also knew that Zackner thought this was quite hilarious, as he had accepted Olvanns offer to heal the students back when he had been first learning Shasskah - something his father had undoubtedly admonished him about. "I've had him place a Nimbility spell on me. Do the same." He commanded, slightly irritated.

[Olvann Coia]

Olvann wasted little time in adhering to the command of his teacher, he placed his hands together ceremoniously and closed his eyes, more from the irritation of sunlight pervading the room then for need of blocking stimuli. He entered clara in just under a minute, and began the process of shaping the spell Nimbility, which he cast onto himself. He felt the energy infuse his muscles and the familiar tense that indicated his reflexes and dexterity had just been amplified. He opened his eyes, quickly bounced on the balls of his feet and grinned.

Markener observed the tangible difference in his student with a grin. It appeared as though Olvann had not just advanced in his martial studies. "Kick me." The dark elf stated and moved into a defensive position. What followed was evidently the reason Zackner had broken off his teaching for the afternoon. He spun, deftly kicking at Markners head and alternating clockwise and reverse clockwise positions, always to be blocked by an upraised arm. They moved about the room in steady circles at dizzying speeds, Markner absorbing the kicks at every level as the Hayan switched strike heights. Thwack-thwack-thwack was the only sound heard in the hallways as the barrage of strikes connected repeatedly, skin, bone and muscle crashing in a savage dance. "Enough!" Markener said finally, breaking away from the now sweating student. Olvann had beads glistening on his shaven head, though his cardiovascular strength still denied the exertion, hardly allowing his chest to rise. "I'll show you a new technique, see if you can pick it up." He said, instantly causing the Hayan into a defensive stance as he launched a quick threesome of punches at his face, Olvann dodged, taking a glancing blow to the face that he hardly felt and continued to counter with a savage back hook kick. They continued the exchange for a few minutes, the equivalent of double the time because of their respective enhancements. Olvann used a turning kick intending to connect with his teacher just above the left knee. Markener did something then that greatly surprised the Hayan, his right foot came up in a shorter movement, as though he was going to launch a front kick, but instead he batted aside Olvann strike, kicking him in the shin. Olvann wasted no time, instead delivering a series of low and high frontal kicks.

Markener blocked every one the same way. Olvann stepped back in a defensive stance, breaking the confrontation. "Good, you noticed, only took four of the same block." He said demeaningly, evidently the beatings on his arms had put him in a foul mood. "That is called a Leg Block. And it is extremely effective when you use it in combination with kicks, an opponent is usually not expecting you to block his punch with a leg, and it will offer you just one more deceptive move... One more deceptive move to finish your enemy as quickly as possible." He said, emphasizing his point by kicking out at one of his dummies arms and punching it in the throat.

Olvann nodded his head and moved into a defensive stance. Markener smiled, evidently looking forward to giving the Hayan a taste. So, it continued, Markener thrashing the man with a series of brutal kicks that he would mix up with a few well aimed upper cuts and reverse punches to keep Olvann on his toes. The Hayan did his very best to knock every single strike with his feet, but sometimes it seemed impossible and Markener took advantage of his uncertainty, forcin ghis to retreat or use his arms to block. "You will not always be able to use your legs to block, but this is good practice, imagine what you could do if your arms were disabled." He said, thrusting his fist forward toward the Hayans face. Olvann leaned back out of its range and kicked out at an incoming side kick meant to crush his knee, successfully blocking it. Markeners rage played out on the Hayan for the better part of a candlemark, ending finally when they both felt their respective spell enhancement fade and then completely wear off.

The Hayans arms, legs, chest and face were peppered with bruises, several well aimed strikes had caused deep savage broken pools of vessels below the surface of his pale skin. It had been a fantastic experience that he had truly enjoyed. His whole body was draining, sweat covered his entire skins surface with a gleaming reminder of the last candlemarks extreme exertion. Still, he could have continued. Markener looked surprisingly unchanged, surely he was sweating but it seemed to the Hayan that he had very little idea what stamina this Vysstichi possessed. Zackner looked impressed, few could keep up with his father, himself included.

"Thats enough for the brightening, come back tommorow and we will continue." He said and marched out of the training room. Olvann raised an eyebrow, he was going to teach another lesson? Zackner just laughed at his expression, "He's been doing this for a while... Don't worry, even if he doesn't like you, he can see you've got a lot of talent." He said, capturing two of Olvann's sentiments in one go. "Glad to see your still alive, tomorrow, I'll do some sparring with you!" He said from his leaning position, bristling with a wide smile. Olvann nodded his head and returned the sentiment, walking over to his cloak and replacing the teeth that had been knocked out of his face. He entered clara, aware as Zackner exited aswell, similarly intent on his next lesson. He cast a healing spell on himself, feeling the tissue pucker around his teeth and pull them back in, whilst simultaneously removing all the bruising on his body. He was sure he could have gone for another couple candlemarks of exertion, so instead, he headed back to the temple, intent on continuing his exertion daily routine of exercise, prayer and sacrifice.