Noob vs Pro (The Great Beating)

Here she was. Klara walked under the stone arches alone. Her original plan to enter with another person but she was never able to coordinate with them. It was not her proudest moment but she had to accept that she was not the main character yet. What bugged her most though was the lost of value in the experience of working together with another person. Now if she did choose to fight someone, she would have to give her 100 percent instead of leeching off another's success. That seemed like too much efforted though.

The girl looked at the list of open fights. It seemed like there were people, gladiators who got paid to fight strangers. The girl felt like it was sort of cool but she just did not feel like going to the effort of challenging train professionals. It seemed a bit out of character but the girl would protest. She wanted a better story than challenging someone who got paid to accept challenges. She wanted a memory, a story that she could add to her own collection. If only she could fill it with heavy sighs.

In the end, the girl found herself just sitting in what could best be called "a fighter's lobby" It was here that she could see the current combatants through beaten bars. Clashing swords sent the crowd in awe. They probably had a better view because the girl did not feel like cheering. This was already a poor story.

She stood up and was going to leave but then she was stopped by a woman. Apparently there was suppose to be a event to get new people into the coliseum. Some big name was doing friendly matches with inexperience competitors. Klara was a little doubtful but ultimately ended up accepting the request if only to get the woman to leave her alone. Sadly now she had a commitment to do.

Klara entered the coliseum with her insectoid demon beast skull helmet and a white cloak. Inside the cloak were sharp bones that she used as darts. On her back was her sickle. She wore her red bandage over her black leotard with a black belt like strap which formed a pseudo dress and skirt. She had long black gloves which reached her triceps and a black band hugged her left thigh and had more teeth darts attached. Beneath her helm, the girl was not smile. All she could think about was how much this was going to hurt.

stuff:

Knuckles Shi once again was doing a PR stunt for the Coliseum.  Today he was doing some training fights with newcomers. So all he was going to be using was a sword and shield.  He doubted he would really need them but it was important to the newcomers that they get a taste of true battle.  The announcer would let the crowd know the opening event was about to start and that was his queue to gather his things and get going.  

Putting his sword threw the slot in his shield he fixed the threshold to his left forearm. Moving towards his gate he waited for it to open wearing only his typical sash and leather pants.  He was shirtless and shoeless showing the many whipping marks on his back and his slave tattoos from his younger days.

The announcer then introduced him as the gate on his side opened up and the red-haired warrior stepped out and waved upwards to the crowd above as he held a smile on his face. He was a well-known veteran of the Colisuiem and a fan favorite never having lost a match yet. People betted on him becoming the next champion of the Coliseum.

Once he was out into the arena he watched the gate close behind him before walking into the center of the ring, With each step he felt the hot sand under his feet, curling his toes to dig into it he looked across and awaited his first opponent to enter.
"Time to break in the newcomers with a fun exercise. I wonder how many will run away."

gear:

Klara walked into the arena after she her name was called, with that name being just her first name since she did not really have a performative name. She adjusted her helmet as light shined over her. She looked forward a the man before her. She saw a taller and much larger fanalis standing there with a sword and shield. He did not have anything else really special looking on him that she could identify but with the hot sand under her feet and the attention of a few hundred eyes. The girl found feelings changing.

No more was the lost of value from the man who promised to join her. Now was a blood bubbling excitement of a possible fight. Klara herself was normally not as battle hungry or openly aggressive as a lot fanalis, however, even she had that itch in her blood which tensions got high or she was riled up. A huge grin grew beneath the mask despite the very real concern. She was going to get beaten up really good but it was going to be fun for her fanalis instincts. This was going to be the next story in her book and she had to make it good. Even if she was the supporting character this time.

Stepping into her spot, the girl remained energetically quiet. She had no intentions of bantering with the experience fighter, not that she should. She had no intentions of talking herself up. However, she did want to want to avoid doing certain things in front of seeing eyes. As an unofficial guide and poor man's bodyguard, something that kept her safe, besides being a fanalis, was people's lack of knowledge about her. She had never been in a serious fight where she had to give her 100%. So she raised her fist and took a human box boxing stance. A small breeze flew over the arena flapping her cloak into the air and revealing her weapon on her back.

It appeared that the woman was prepared, emitting the aura of a warrior. However, his extensive training as an assassin and in the military had taught him to scrutinize individuals more closely. It was the way she moved that caught his attention - not the firm and assertive stride of a warrior, but a subtle grace in her footsteps, a delicate touch on the ground that he, as a novice assassin, had learned to recognize. She possessed the qualities of an assassin or had received training as one.

The roar of the crowd in the coliseum was deafening, a cacophonous symphony of anticipation, fear, and thrill. It was a sound as ancient as civilization itself, the collective exhalation of thousands of spectators hungry for spectacle and action. The echo bounced off the stone walls, reverberating around the towering structure. Each shout, each cheer, each jeer, served as a haunting reminder of the impending battle. The very air seemed electrified, charged with the impatient energy of the spectators, all eyes fixated on the arena floor, awaiting the unfolding drama.

Knuckles observed as she assumed a boxing stance, devoid of any weaponry or apparent magical artifacts. It was an intriguing anomaly, to say the least. He couldn't fathom a plausible motive for her entering a debut fight without the intention of employing a weapon.

Knuckles' heart pounded in rhythm with the crowd's chants, a thrilling symphony that fueled his fighting spirit. His eyes sparkled with a mix of determination and anticipation, reflecting the fiery passion that had ignited within him. This was not just a battle to him, but a dance—a dance where he could showcase his unwavering resolve, unparalleled skills, and the lessons learned from years of painstaking training. The arena was his stage, the crowd his audience, and each cheer a testament to his strength. He felt invigorated, alive—like a wild animal finally let loose into the wilderness. A magnetic pull drew him towards battle, a primal instinct he could not resist. The thrill of the fight, the sweet anticipation of the dance of war, was a feeling Knuckles cherished, a positive affirmation of his purpose and his prowess.
Thus, the announcer declared the beginning of the battle, and Knuckles wasted no time. As always, he propelled himself off the ground, closing the gap between him and the woman, aiming for melee range. Grunts escaped his mouth as his lungs drew in air, fueling his muscles and propelling him toward his destination. His intention was not to defeat her with a single blow, but rather to assess her skills and witness her abilities. Nonetheless, he also aimed to demonstrate the prowess of a top-tier Fanalis and Coliseum warrior.

Approaching the young woman, Knuckles utilized his A-tier speed, excluding his Fanalis step, to meet her head-on. As he reached striking distance, he gracefully lowered his body into a slide, targeting her left leg. By positioning himself on his left side, his slide came at an angle, allowing his shield to glide against the sand instead of his arm. This move, admittedly, was risky. It sacrificed his ability to maneuver and prevented him from utilizing his shield and sword in the initial attack. However, this was intentional. Knuckles wanted to observe her response and see how she would react. Holding back his strength Knuckles' attack would only deal Basic Damage if landed.

Knuckles' strategy was akin to a game of chess. Each move was calculated, designed not only to attack, but also to probe and gather information about his opponent. As he slid towards her, his eyes remained laser-focused, scrutinizing her every movement, every reaction. Would she step aside, or would she counter his attack? How fast could she move? What was the pace of her reflexes? These were the questions that raced through his mind. His strategy was not just about the physical battle; it was a psychological one. He was testing her, examining her skills, her technique, her strategy. He was gathering all the data he could to develop a plan of attack, to predict her moves before she even made them. This approach was the result of his years of training as a top-tier Fanalis and Coliseum warrior, a testament to his disciplined and strategic mindset. It was not just his strength and speed that made him a formidable opponent, but also his sharp intellect and tactical acumen.

Knuckles' strategy carries immense significance and reveals a great deal about his character and his approach to combat. Not one to rely solely on his physical strength, Knuckles combines his Fanalis speed and power with a keen tactical mind. His preference for assessing his opponent's skills before launching a full-scale attack underlines his caution and patience, qualities that are arguably as crucial as force in a coliseum confrontation. His decision to slide towards his opponent, protecting himself with his shield, and knowingly limiting his offensive options demonstrates a willingness to take calculated risks. Moreover, it reflects his belief in strategy over mere brute force. By keeping his eyes on his opponent and continuously evaluating her reactions, Knuckles shows a profound understanding of battle as a dynamic, evolving situation. It is not just about landing the first blow but about out-thinking and out-manoeuvring the opponent. His strategy, therefore, embodies his comprehensive approach to battle - an interplay of physical prowess, quick thinking, and psychological warfare.

As Knuckles slid towards his opponent, a whirlwind of thoughts filled his mind. Every inch of his opponent's stance, every subtle shift in her weight, and each barely discernible change in her expression was cataloged meticulously in his mind for future reference. He was not merely pitting his strength against hers - he was engaging in a battle of wits, where the smallest mistake could cost him dearly. Yet, within this whirlwind of calculated logic and strategy, there was an undercurrent of excitement, a thrill that energized him more than any physical exertion ever could. He relished the challenge, the adrenaline that came with the uncertainty of the outcome. It was these moments - the anticipation, the strategy, the risk - that made him feel truly alive. Despite the imminent threat of danger, he found a unique peace amidst the chaos, a serene clarity that painted the world in sharper colors and clearer lines. It was a testament to the duality of his nature - a warrior and a thinker, a beast and a man, all at once.