Welcome to Gaia! ::

In what seemed to him like just a moment, the hammer which had seen him through countless tussles with the tavern occupants became his enemy. Surprise finally made an impact upon him as the Troll was disarmed and struck in the same manner he'd approached his prey. Struck in the side of his already disfigured face, the brute was launched to the side, lifted off his feet for the second time in his life, and for the first time it was with his own weapon.

The wall where his body had stricken began to crumble, falling about his form at first, and then continuing by collapsing atop the beast himself. With a long groan, and a slow rise, the Mountain eventually began to push aside the thick bricks and portions of wood which covered his chest and stomach. Again he had to slap his palm down and use will power and fury to lift himself up. Confused as to how the warrior had performed such an amazing feat even the buffoon couldn't help but ask a question.

"Ow ou ou ot?" he asked, though his speech had become worse still as his jaw hanged loosely upon his face. Onlookers would swear that the portion which dripped as it could not hold saliva was no longer attached to the man it belonged to. Unarmed and broken, most men of the world would have fled, but here in the iron kingdom retreat was delaying a cowardly death. Charging again, the bulky brawler leaped at his opponent, ignoring that he had become the unarmed fool. It appeared that the monster of a man was attempting to land his body weight atop the leaner fighter, trying to find another way to use his own form as a tool.

As the stranger stepped aside, miraculously as the brute had planned, the behemoth of a man tucked his shoulder, allowing him to roll past the warrior. Rushing away from the man, Mountain ran for his opponent's rather large weapon. Taking firm grip upon the item, the brawler heaved with all his might. To his surprise however, the blade would not budge. It was as if Drogum himself had forged the blade to stick to the ground as it had. Many grunts erupted from the brute, but as he noticed the wanderer approaching...he gave in.

He could not lift the blade, his jaw seared with pain, and though he himself had been dealt many blows that would ruin the common man Troll knew that he had placed not a scratch upon his opponent. Walking past the fighter he had lost to, the beast man made way to his own weapon. Slumping down to his knees, he took hold of the weapon...and passed out, falling upon his jaw and dealing one last blow to the ruined feature of his face.

Safira was, in a word, wandering. She did it every so often. No place ever seemed to have quite what she needed. Sooner or later she'd come to the realization that she might be better off elsewhere. But that "elsewhere" always proved the same as the latter. Sometimes she was asked to leave after "accidentally" causing destruction. One bar keep had commented on how she had "a temper worse than any drunk that's walked through that door". And perhaps that was right. But she had plenty to be angry about and had no intention of changing her ways anytime soon.

This time it was the Aroch kingdom. She wasn't particularly looking forward to it. The laws about having to slay something at age 12 made her feel slightly queasy. She imagined it was hypocritical, taking into account the large amounts of people she'd killed. But she'd been fully grown before she'd touched another person in anger. However, it was a new place and she was determined to make the best of it.

As was her custom upon coming to a new place, Safira found a nearby pub in the midst of a brawl. As she didn't have personal interest, she was content to stay back and let the fight run it's course. She was surprised at the winner though. He was smaller than one would expect a fierce warrior to be. There wasn't even anger in his stance. What made him so strong? Stranger still, he simply walked away at the end of the fight, no parting words to speak of.

She wasn't usually forward enough to speak to people on the street, she preferred to keep words short and in a business-like manner, but this man was so strange she couldn't resist. She quickened her silent steps until she'd caught up to him. "Do you always fight so calmly?" She asked bluntly. She'd yet to manage subtlety in speaking, however smooth she was when it came to fighting.

OOC: Menna's busy getting married and I didn't want to tie Sydelle up with Astrenose making a return. So say hello to my new character!

If the man was surprised at her sudden appearance, he didn't mention it. And she knew she'd been absolutely silent as she moved. That was something she'd learned early on in her days of fighting. Training with various masters had showed her that much. But he didn't so much as blink an eye. Did he have super human hearing as well? Or was she losing her touch?

His answer was mundane enough. While her own father hadn't been a warrior, she knew that fighters often beget fighters. He kept moving, but she kept up with him easily enough. He obviously wasn't trying to lose her, as he kept speaking. "Fight without emotions?" That was a new concept. And a completely foreign one to Safira. "That's not possible." She studied his face as they walked. No surprise, no annoyance, not even any sign of interest in his surroundings. It was as if he went through life uncaring. It made her annoyed. He had to show emotion sometime. "Did your father teach you to be so emotionless about everything?" It was a rash and cruel thing to say, but Safira had a hard time curbing her tongue for years.

OOC: Not sure. They have similar past, but completely different personalities when it comes to emotion.

Safira preferred movement to everything else, but the man was intriguing enough to keep her interest, so she followed suit and sat down. She doubted the conversation would last much longer. Her patience with people was fairly short, however much she hated to be alone. And he seemed particularly annoying. Interesting and annoying might have been a strange combination, but it was enough to keep her in her seat.

His "teaching" of a vengeance battle hit a sore spot for Safira. Despite the fact that it had been over 8 years ago, she'd never gotten over that first battle. It's what had triggered much of what she was now. And she was certain it would take something just as intense to change her back into the girl she used to be. Fortunately, she was distracted from this line of thought by surprise. "Taken from you?" She echoed. Her first thought was to call him a liar. But how else could he remain so apathetic through everything? "How in the seven planes did that happen?" Perhaps this conversation was going to take a little longer than she'd originally thought.

OOC: Everything pisses Safira off sooner or later. She's a hot mess of anger and bitterness.

Safira listened quietly to his tale. Unlike the apathetic man in front of her, she tended to feel everything too much. His story wasn't exactly like her own, but fighting the man that had killed his family reminded her uncomfortably of her own sad tale. She did her best to keep her face passive, but it twitched a couple times in response.

"And this spell, it made it impossible to feel anything?" The story was a bit far-fetched, but the way he spoke it made it sound like truth. She thought for a long moment. For the past 8 years she'd felt like a storm. A lot of rage, bitterness, and hurt swirling around in her head till she felt like she was made of it. "Wonder where I can find one." She said with a short laugh. Truth be told, she wasn't sure if she was joking or not. Being emotionless sounded a lot better than what she was currently.

OOC: I'm honestly not sure what could convince her to chill. But he's one of the few that wouldn't get ticked off by her.

His actions matched his words. He truly did not feel anything. She could not guess at what that felt like. It would be saddening, had he the ability to feel sad. Or frustrating...except that was off limits as well. She sat staring at the ground as he stood up. He suggest rest...but she didn't feel tired. And most of the work she did was at night. Was much more difficult to sneak in broad daylight. But Aroch seemed more savage than most and her normal way of doing things wasn't going to work.

She stood up and followed him, still mostly lost in thought. An idea occurred to her belatedly. "So this man who did the spell, you didn't know him?" It was the one major point where their stories differed. But did that make it easier? She looked ahead to the inn. She had plenty of money on her. She'd had several high paying jobs and few things beyond food and shelter that needed tended to. In the morning she would ask around for various jobs. At this point it was looking to be something having to do with trolls, but she didn't mind that much. If not, she'd have to move on and find occupation somewhere else.