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Post by sargepepper on Jul 8, 2013 17:02:28 GMT
Sofur Heldstrom, Boxer Gentleman of GanglirJonso (June) 15th, 2472 AS Port of Sojo, The Low District, behind the marketplace. “Sofur!” The voice came from behind the fourteen year old, interrupting the sojourn his mind had taken into lands of myth and battle. He was somewhere in the midst of a fantastic battle, smiting the glorious foes of Raheem with his blade in battle when the small voice carried him out of the glories of battle. He bit into his apple a little pointedly, hoping to still his irritation at being pulled out of yet another daydream his mind hopelessly encapsulated him with before having to speak to the trespasser of his dreams. But his irritation was quickly squelched as a pair of arms wrapped themselves around him, turning his cross look into a twisted smile as he lifted him from his stance with a flourish and twirl. He laughed and batted her playfully as his elder sister swung him about for a minute. They usually crossed paths here on their way back from school, depending on how late the teacher decided to keep the children, but it was always night to walk home with his sister, their imaginations always bright after a stint of learning. “Angelina, you always seem to lag behind me from school.” He said, her wide smile down on him as the fifteen year old placed him back on the ground. She pulled back, snatching his apple and taking a bite of it herself nosily before handing it back. He took it and took a glance at her once more. He still remembered her with tight curly ringlets and a pouty face that was far too quickly becoming very beautiful. He was still a gangly pre-teen, but She always said that he’d be a knockout eventually. “Maybe, Brother, it’s because I value hearing what smarter people have to say?” She leaned forward and ruffled his hair amid a large smile. “When they have something I want to hear, I’ll listen. For now, it’s just boring. This Regent Exemplar this, That Agent of Raheem that.” Another bite of the apple and sneer punctuated his feelings on the subject as they started to walk down the road together toward their villa in the market. They lived in the glorious Port city of Sojo, and the marketplace was always awash with colors and amazing smells. Sofur loved listening to the sound of the city as he fell asleep at night. “But you’ll one day learn why that is important. We must know history to have the strength to change our future.” His sister said, with a very put on, stuffy accent on, most likely imitating one of her teachers. He scoffed and continued walking, looking for the alleyway that they needed to walk down to their home. It’s wasn’t large, but their father managed to carve a good home for them out of what he made. It was close to his stall on the market, but it was cramped at times. He and his sister shared a room, their father sleeping in the main area with a small galley to eat in. It wasn’t much, but it was home to them. They giggled and continued to tease and badger the other up the stairs of their building before getting to their door. Angelina was about to open the door, when a loud crash was heard and someone, who was not their father, call out to him. “ RADSHASH, DO NOT LIE TO ME!” He yelled, and another crash was heard, their father’s cries muted through the stone wall. Both children paled as Angelina’s hand froze over the handle She just had to slide the rough wood panel aside, and they could do…something. Sofur knew that they could not do much, but he could not let his father get beaten like that. He stepped forward, hand almost to the door, posed ready to throw himself on his father’s attacker, when the attacker’s voice, barely audible, came through the door again. “Tell me where it is, Radshash. Your children, they will be home soon, eh? It would be shameful if they fell into this as well. Just like your late wife?” Sofur was floored. It seemed all the air had left his body. Hadn’t their mother died naturally, giving birth to him? One look at the tears in his sisters eyes and he knew that the rug of their life had been pulled out from under her too. A scream was heard, not a pathetic scream, but a scream of vengeance, that only sounded remotely like their father passed through the wall. This time, people poked their heads into the hallway as the resounding crash came through the walls. Shocked out of his trance, Sofur threw open the door to frame his father on top of his assailant. It took Sofur a moment to recognize the man, through his father’s blows and the blood pouring from his face. But he still recognized Haktil, one of the enforcers of the Low Merchant, one of the officials in charge of the marketplace, the one with the crooked jaw. Sofur and Angelina stood for a moment and watched their father and the assailant battle each other, stunned again at the fists flew. Finally, their father, on top once more, was drew close to his attacker and said “I will never let you touch my children, you pervert, or will I let you near the neckl…” That’s when a sob escaped from Angelina. And their lives changed forever. “Children? What are you…” A gasp came from him and something poked at the back of his tunic, making a small tent on his back. Sofur started to see red around the edges of his tunic as a very confused and worried look came over his face. He looked down, then back up as he coughed up blood. HE looked at his children, pleading in his eyes as he gasped out: “Uncle’s…. Run.” Sofur did not remember running. He didn’t remember tripping on the dirt in places and sprinting back up, or slamming into walls in his haste to run. He didn’t remember slamming on his Uncle’s door, with Angelina in tow, and him hurriedly accepting them, packing all the necessities for a trip and lashing a mule to a buggy, critical runecrafter tools hanging off the side the whole time. All he remembered was looking back on the city he loved as it dissolved into darkness.
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Post by sargepepper on Jul 9, 2013 1:00:43 GMT
2485 AS
City of Ganglir, Smelting Side, Glood's Bathhouse.
The blows were coming too quickly for him, something Sofur was not used to having happen. Left, Right, guard head, right again. He felt the blows slam against his skin, but knew that they were just tests, feints, prods to see where his guard was weakest. He stood strong, only moving where he wanted to, noting where his opponent was trying to push him.
Right, Uppercut, right jab to the forearm.
More rights. As much as the blows were weak, they were starting to hurt, being hit in the same place. Bruises forming. He winced with a large hit to his side and felt his guard slip to the side for a moment. Glancing through the gap it created, he saw the windup as though it were made of molasses. The hard right hook, pulled back as far as his opponent could manage, the momentum slowing as the forward muscles took over the momentum, shifting it toward his now growing opening.
He had the advantage now.
Sofur learned the art of Gorheem Boxing in the last few years. He'd been watching many fights after their Uncle uprooted them from the bright and colors city of Sojo to the grim and dust of Ganglir. He needed something to do, something to keep his time. And luckily for him, the city of Ganglir had just the thing a brash young man like him needed. Boxing. The manly sport of learning how to get your ass handed to you, while giving more than you get.
Gorheem boxing in particular was a brutal style. It was created in Sali by a wandering fighter who spent years under Raheem, meditating on his grace and patience. Everyday, more who had heard of his presence came and demanded to test their skills against his. They were met by a wall of silence. Finally, after years of silence and sitting still, he demanded a fight from the crowd that followed him.
Gorheem boxing came forth as the art of the Mountain, Raheem. Patient. Calculating. With one or two deadly strikes that won the match. Everyone thought that the master had lost, simply defending, until one lighting strike came from the Master's guard and broke the man's jaw. It was instantly popular in Sali, due to its reliance on endurance and patience.
This is the style that Sofur adopted.
This is also the style that Angelina hates. As it hurts her, more than it did him.
Angelina's Right hook was coming right for his face as a slight smile crossed his face. He knew that Angelina dedicated total power to this blow. He also knew that he could shift his body weight faster than she could.
Her eyes popped wide as Sofur literally dropped his left guard and moved his body upright, pulling his right arm up for an uppercut.
And there was nothing Angelina could do but follow through into the empty space where her brother's face was.
He pulled through, slapping her gently on the face and let her fall to the mat, tripping her slightly. His smile broad and gleaming as she flipped over, giving him a very obscene gesture as she scrambled up to face him, red face burning in embarrassment.
"WHAT THE HELL WAS THAT? DROPPING YOUR GUARD?!? THAT'S HEEKTEL <Bullshit>! YOU NEVER DROP YOUR GUARD!" Sofur did a slight jig over to his corner of the ring as the trainers both clapped on the outside, very impressed with both of their techniques.
"I was just getting you back for that back hook kick last match, Sis. You surprise me, i surprise you." His smile was infectious as the trainers both came on the mat, going to their respective contenders.
"Angel, come now. A good fighter knows a good move and changing his tactics to surprise you should be celebrated. Remembered, but celebrated. You two are so evenly matched, that it's hard for either of you to get better without changing your tricks." That was Trader Hiij, Angelina's trainer. The gleaming turquoise and Blue turban that he wore on his head suited the bronzed skin and rune scars that covered his body. He was a teacher of Bordun Kickboxing, which was all about quick strikes and feinting.
"Agreed. I cannot bet anymore with Hiij because we do not know who will win." Kardesh replied. Kardesh Moorel was Sofur's trainer, a champion of the Smelter side of Ganglir, but was knocked out with a busted knee in an unfair hit. He was given credit, but couldn't fight anymore.
"It's that the point of gambling, Kardesh?" Kardesh shook his head and sighed. He was always one to speak little. But what he did say, you listened to.
"Sofur, the rule of gambling is to never make a bet you aren't likely to win." Hiij said with a gleam as he handed Angelina a waterskin. She hoisted it, the coolness of the water rapidly cooling her temper. Her temper was legendarily short, but it dissipated just as quickly.
"It was pretty good. Make sure to use that on a Rupel match. We could use the coin, and a stunt like that is pretty sure to get someone off guard." He walked over and nudged his sister playfully as he toweled off with his side towel.
"Ugh, are you ever going to get rid of that thing? It's ratty and torn apart." She sighed disgustedly. He feigned shock as he held the cloth protectively.
"My lucky towel? The towel that has carried me through victories? Has stuck with me with every defeat and success? Never!" HE looked down at the piecemeal assortment of cloth that he has used, and briefly wondered if there was anything left of the original towel under there. He shrugged, tossing it over one shoulder and getting the bottle of water from his sister. She scoffed at him and ruffled his hair.
"Nice hit, Brother. You're getting better everyday." They smiled at each other as she walked away toward the baths. "Just make sure to get home on time tonight. Uncle's got stew on."
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Post by Timeon on Jul 9, 2013 1:32:17 GMT
Sofur arrived at his uncle's home before his sister did. It was built into the mountainside, like so many other homes in the Smelting Side of town. As always, there was an oil lamp burning at the window, and Sofur could smell his uncle's stew already. He wondered if Angelina had gotten home already, but wagered that she was probably still out, as usual.
He heard talking coming from inside. Uncle was not alone, and he sounded upset. It gave him awful flashbacks. Sofur suppressed them, a pained expression crossing his face for a moment only. Seconds later, he straightened his back, puffed his chest out, and waltzed towards the door.
Inside he found his uncle hotly debating a rather fat man, seated in Sofur's chair.
"... you'll find another way."
Sofur's uncle did not seem so sure. He was stirring the stew, and his face turned from anger to genuine surprise when he saw Sofur.
"Ah, of course. Sofur, meet Abu Baasa. He's an old friend."
"So generous of you to say so. You are as generous as Abu Baasa himself." the fat one remarked with a gesture, bringing his assortment of rings and gemstones to Sofur's attention. Politely, Sofur took a little bow and seated himself in Angelina's seat, beside Abu Baasa.
"We were just discussing business." Uncle pointed out, trying to seem casual. He had finished stirring the stew. "Nothing to worry about."
"You are a terrible liar, uncle." Sofur remarked with a little smile.
Abu Baasa puffed a chuckle.
"Your dear uncle is in debt, young Sofur. As an old friend, I thought I would lend him a hand, you know?"
Sofur nodded, unconvinced.
"And it's only fair you'd want something in return?"
Abu Baasa offered a gigantic grin, putting a sweaty hand on Sofur's own.
"Abu Baasa has watched you fight. He has also heard you aspire to compete in Konsheer next year?"
"That may be the case." Sofur answered, accepting a bowl of stew from his uncle.
"Well, Abu Baasa invests in fights - fighters, to be exact. He looks for talent. He makes a profit off of talent. And for the luckiest of fighters, he provides training. Quality training."
"So what you're saying is, Abu Baasa, you want me to work for you. In exchange you'll wipe my uncle's debts? And I'll get the training I need for Konsheer."
Abu Baasa blinked salty drops of sweat away.
"You are bright as a candle from Catar."
Uncle intervened, smashing a fist on the table and causing a droplet of stew to fly from Sofur's bowl and onto the carpet.
"I said no, Abu Baasa. If the boy is to fight, he will do it on his own terms. Not under one of your infamous contracts."
A dark look crossed Abu Baasa's face.
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Post by sargepepper on Jul 9, 2013 12:59:16 GMT
2485 AS
City of Ganglir, Smelting Side, Uncle’s Home
Sofur looked between the two men, the tension thick enough to cut with a dagger. It was obvious that Abu was trying to get something from my Uncle by placing guilt and pressure on him. The problem was that Uncle was much like a diamond found in the steppes of their homeland. Pressure seemed to wash off of him like the rivers water. But now that Sofur had been brought into it, this diamond was showing its faults. Sofur was a brash man sometimes, but he liked to think that some of Uncle’s tact rubbed off on him. He brandished a big smile as he slid the bowl of stew over to Abu Baasa in politeness.
“Well, We could talk more about this, but we have a custom in this house from our homecity, that we never discuss business over dinner. Here, you may have my portion if you wish, but I must insist you stay and eat with us before we conduct any more talks of debts and contracts.” His smile was genuine, but not because he was glad to give his portion over to the fat man beside him.
No, it was more the look on Abu’s face that he tried to cover up, one of disgust that only a Noble (Or one who thinks he is) gives to something that he considers beneath him. Sofur watched with near laughter as a potato bubbled to the surface of the stew and Abu had to close his mouth with a finger and compose himself for a moment.
“No, Abu Baasa must decline this most humble of offers, as Abu Baasa has more… titillating meetings to attend to. “ His dark eyes looked up to his uncle and then to Sofur before his tone turned a little darker. “But this offer Abu makes, it will not be forever.” Sofur’s smile lit up the room again.
“Of course not, Abu Baasa. Your generosity is famed through the city, and we will not keep you waiting with our response. Are you free tomorrow evening? I must work for my Uncle here, but will be free to attend any place of your desire to further discuss this.” Sofur knew that this placed the meeting in favorable conditions for Abu, but there was not much else he could do to placate the man’s temper. Abu wasn’t really known for his generocity. He was more known for illicit contracts, an ill temper, and weird tastes (If the ‘working’ women’s rumors are to be believed).
The wide smile on Abu’s face reminded Sofur of a smile a pig might put on his face.
“Of course, young man. Abu Baasa will be happy to host you in his personal room at The Klik-Shar smoking dens. “ Uncle’s face darkened more at that, but Sofur nodded again, smile dioplmatic.
“Then, may Raheem bless you until our paths cross again, Abu Baasa.” Sofur said, bowing with the opening of a traditional Sali farewell. It was best to go all out with these types.
“May he raise the mountain to your feet as well, young man.” He said with a flourish and bow. And with a waddle, the fat man was gone. Sofur breathed a sigh of relief and sat down, pulling the bowl of stew to himself and digging in quickly. He was starving after the long day and workout with Angelina, so the bowl did not last long. Uncle had sat down too and was eating slower. Not many words were exchanged for a while, the pair eating in silence.
“You lied to Abu.” Uncle said with a slight smirk on his face. “Not talk of business over dinner. That was a clever one.”
“Had you not been upset, Uncle, you probably would have thought of it yourself.” Sofur said, quickly wiping the remnants of the stew out with a damp cloth. He sighed hard and steadied himself of the counters edge.
“How much do you owe?” He said quietly.
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Post by Timeon on Jul 10, 2013 20:47:30 GMT
"Enough." Uncle poured another ladle of stew into Sofur's bowl. "Enough that selling my tools of the trade could pay it off."
Sofur thought on how his uncle could possibly have gotten into such debt. Then his heart quickened.
"Does this have something to do with Sojo."
Uncle nodded, without looking him in the eyes.
"Covering our tracks was... costly. I know there's a lot I haven't told you, but life is better that way."
Angelina chose that moment to walk through the door. There was a disturbed look to her, a couple of beads of sweat trailing down her forehead. Sofur was on his feet in a moment.
"What's wrong?"
Then Sofur caught uncle burying his face into his hands.
"I thought somebody was watching me." Angelina paused, working her mouth, as if realising she had been worried about nothing. "Just a feeling I had. But it wasn't the feeling I get when I've got an admirer's greedy eyes following me."
"Well, if it was an admirer I wouldn't be surprised." Sofur said with a smile. Then he noticed her necklace was gone, and he went cold. "Where is it?"
"What?" Angelina asked, brow furrowing. Then she remembered. She reached into her pocket and brought the necklace out. "This?"
Uncle breathed a sigh of relief.
"So nobody saw it?"
"You told me not to wear it in public." Angelina said with a shrug. "What's going on?"
Uncle bit his lip, then patted an empty chair for Angelina to sit down. When she did, he handed her some stew, and filled up Sofur's bowl again.
"It's time to talk about Sojo."
And so uncle told them what he knew. Much to their disappointment, it was not much. Many years ago, a man had come to Sofur and Angelina's father, Radshash, with a necklace. The stranger said that he was being hunted, and that the necklace was no longer safe with him, and that it needed to be hidden somewhere ambiguous. The item would have great political ramifications if it fell into the wrong hands, and tens of thousands of lives could be endangered if it were misused. The necklace he gave was a key, but to what, the man had never said. What he did say was that someday he might return for it, but if he did not, the man who would come in his stead would bear the title of Diviner.
"So we don't have any idea what it actually is." Angelina said, eyes narrowed. "And father died for another man's troubles?"
"He died because he had faith that the stranger spoke truth, that the necklace could lead to the deaths of many innocents." Uncle fired back, his fists clenched. "You will honour that sacrifice."
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Post by sargepepper on Jul 11, 2013 14:12:04 GMT
“Uncle, please.” Sofur said, sitting back down at his table, sipping at what he suspected was his last bowl of stew tonight. It was sitting very heavily inside of him. “You know Sister’s inclinations toward this subject. And to an extent, I share her sympathies.” Sister beamed at Uncle, who’s fists clenched tighter.
“However, Sister, we knew our father. He would not do anything like this without having faith that it was legitimate. Let us not soil his memory.” It was his Uncle’s turn to smirk now. Sofur sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose as he processed this new story, and pondered as to exactly when he became a mediator for his family, being so hot headed himself. He looked out the window overlooking the mighty Forges of Ganglir, their light and heat even present now on the horizon. Clusters of them looked like bright suns back dropped on the darkness of the surrounding mountains, lights of the surrounding homes stars of their own right.
He understood his sister’s frustration. Why had Father risked their livelihoods so? If he believed the stranger, than surely he had figured that the necklace would be dangerous. Sofur sighed heavily as he knew exactly what was on his father’s mind. It was the thousands of people he could have possibly saved. But regardless of what happened then, it was what was happening now that had Sofur concerned.
“Uncle, if I fight, he will pay the debt, yes?” His Uncle, seated again, nearly shot up out of his seat before Sofur continued quickly. “Now, Uncle, be reasonable. I am not a stupid kid, I understand what signing with Abu contains.” His sister’s head shot up from her own stew bowl.
“WHAT?” She said, eyes wide in shock. “You got an offer to fight under Abu? As in Abu Baasa?” Sofur quickly explained all that had happened before she had gotten home. It was her turn to sigh and pinch her eyes.
“So, you are seriously considering signing up with Abu Baasa, the scumbag who is reputed to throw fights, make bad bets, and keeps worse company?” Sofur leaned back in his chair, eyes still out the window.
“Unfortunately, the way I see it, as of now, any time Uncle had to repay his debts just ran out. Besides, every also knows that Abu Baasa only takes good fighters. He may be a bad gambler, but most of the people he’s taken under his wing and protection have gone to either the Examplar Tournament, or the Welcoming Match. It would be a good opportunity for me. And, of course, I’d have my backup in the corner.” He said, smiling toward his two family members. It was a warm smile, but one of finality.
“It is decided. I need to take the contract. But don’t despair. I will be setting my terms.” He said with a firm fist setting down on the table.
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Post by Timeon on Jul 12, 2013 14:34:43 GMT
Winter 2485 AS
January.
City of Ganglir, The Heights
Sofur Heldstrom was allowed into the residence of Abu Baasa without much fuss. Like most residences amidst the mountains of Sali, Abu Baasa's mansion was carved into the mountainside, and had a splendid view over the city of Ganglir. It was cold up here, and it had taken a while to come up on foot.
Inside, Sofur found Abu Baasa and several guests at dinner, servants pouring wine and bringing trays of assorted food from the kitchen.
"Tis' messy business, war!" one of the guests was lamenting. "Poor Lashuff."
"Lashuff is impenetrable. The Dominion will never pass. Do not worry yourself." a woman at Abu Baasa's side commented light-heartedly.
"Friends, Lashuff does not suffer because of battles. It suffers because of the death of trade. Lashuff was the gateway to Samar, and now its gates are shut." a gentleman with a bear's physique grumbled, bent over the table and fumbling with his fork and knife because of his massive fingers.
"Abu Baasa has another guest!" the fat host exclaimed, throwing his hands into the air. "Dearest Sofur, please take a seat!"
Sofur Heldstrom bowed just enough that he was being polite, and sat at the edge of the table. A servant placed an extravagant tray before him, the smell of different spices overwhelming his nose.
"May Abu Baasa introduce Sofur Heldstrom?"
Sofur offered his fellows at the table his best smile, whilst tucking a napkin into his collar. Formal introductions began. The bear-sized gentleman was a former boxing champion from Lashuff. Beside him was a woman from Malvern who had arrived with a ring of Malvernian boxers to partake in Sali championships across the mountains. The last man at the table was the shortest and least imposing of them all, and the most well-mannered. He was a Samari merchant, from the isle of Anankim.
"When you have time, Abu Baasa? I would like to discuss your offer."
Abu Baasa's cheeks bulged with mirth, and he called to the servants to bring coffee and sorbet.
"Why, of course, Master Sofur. Perhaps in private? We were just discussing the tournament in Horush in two weeks. We will be heading there soon, and it is my hope that you accompany us, if you feel you are ready to compete."
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Post by sargepepper on Jul 12, 2013 18:28:19 GMT
Winter 2485 AS
January (Janssong).
City of Ganglir, The Heights
Sofur’s nose tingled with the spices coming up from the plate in front of him. It was hard not to drool. He had never smelled anything quite this…exotic before. Abu noticed it almost immediately.
“Abu Baasa is very pleased that you seem to enjoy the Carshon that was prepared. I’m sure that in the runecrafting works, you don’t earn enough to taste what has gone into it!” He said with a flourish. Sofur’s rage boiled for a moment, while he interpreted that comment, but looking at Abu’s face, he realized it wasn’t a taunt, but merely a statement of fact. And, honestly, he was right. Sofur took a moment to calm down before picking up a fork to eat the delectable roast (?) in front of him.
“You would be right there, Mr. Baasa. This smells absolutely delectable and worthy of much more of an individual than one such as I. I am blessed by the Regent’s Eyes to have been given a meal such as this.” Abu’s face cracked into a wide smile as the other’s did two. Except for the Malvernian Woman, Valoria Santica. Her face split into a small frown.
“Your compliments are a bit…heavy, don’t you think?” Valoria said, casting a sidelong glance at the young man. Sofur put on his winning smile again as he ate a piece of the best roast he had ever tasted. Savoring the bust of flavor that it came with, he closed his eyes for a moment and sighed inwardly before glancing over at the woman again.
“I have found, that in the presence of tigers, it is easier to offer meat than spears. Eventually, they get full and don’t think to eat you.” A gleam came to his eye as he quickly consumed some of the vegetables with some sort of glazed flavoring on top of them. Everything was just so rich and tasty. He took a moment to see a small smile cross the woman’s face as she went back to eating her meal as well. Luckily, no one else at the table noticed the link to an old tale involving a hero’s quest to capture tigers for a king, eventually supplanting the king by surrounding him with an army of tigers.
“So how goes the ring, boy?” The fat man on the other side of the table bellowed. That was Mr. Basan Grijj, former champion of Lashuff, more commonly known as the Jagged Fist for his rapid fighting in the ring. Sofur noted with a little animosity the full extent that the ex-boxer had let himself go to the opulence of celebrity. Taking a quick summary of the man, he was sure that he could beat him in the ring. The greasy man wiped his face with a napkin and looked back toward the young Salimonas he swallowed.
“It is a fierce as ever, Sir. Plenty of competition to go around. I even heard tell that one of the youngest fighters in the ring has claimed the title you claimed at one point.” The big man smiled and leaned back, patting his rotund belly as his gaze unfocused. No doubt he was reliving a few of his glory years.
“A lofty title. Lashuff always was the holder of titles and records, alongside its sister city, Ganglir, of course. It’s a shame she is closed off right now and starving of culture, or they might still be a serious competitor at the next Tournament. The young Hashir is an admirable fighter, but one can only say that so far when you look at his competitors. He’ll wise up soon, though.”
The conversation continued, the majority of them talking about the state of affairs in Boxing; Abu, Basan, and Valoria taking over the conversation while Sofur offered polite commentary a few times. As he wiped the remnants of the absolutely wonderful dinner from his lips, he finally took a moment to notice the Merchant, simply introduced as Martuk. Sofur was a little interested to know exactly how a merchant on an isolated isle worked, when the city was so frequently under blockade. Sali send regular relief to the city, since her mighty icon plated ships turned the bolts of the Dominion easily. But Sofur did not think that goods were still sold and traded.
The man looked back at him, noticing that Sofur was calculating him and nodded once, almost accepting of his analysis, but there was something more… humor? It was almost as if the man was cheered up that someone was trying to figure him out. But before the confusion Sofur felt could be brought up, Abu stood up with a smile on his face, a silver goblet in his hands that was quickly topped off by a nearby attendant.
“Now, if you’ll excuse Abu Baasa, Sofur will join me so we can negotiate a contract for him to Fight in Abu’s stable as the next champion!” He said mirthfully, waving the young man into the next room. Sofur politely nodded, but stopped for a moment, looking at the Merchant Martuk. He simply nodded again before turning back toward the conversation already coming up between his other companions. There was something off about him, but Sofur could not place it.
Abu lead the way to a lavishly decorated sitting room, stacked full with seating pillows. It was obviously meant as an entertainment room, but Sofur felt that there were many contracts negotiated here. Abu sagged into his corner of pillows more than he sat, a wheezing noise carrying over as he hefted his weight down. He motioned to a cushion on the floor, in front of a smoking tower, obviously indicating that Sofur should join him. Abu immediately took one of the nozzles attached to the tower, huffed on it a few times and laid back, glaring green eyes sparkling.
“So, young Salimon. What have you to say about the terms Abu Baasa has laid out for your dear old uncle?” Sofur nodded and places his hands on his knees before speaking.
“I have conditions I think are favorable, but must be met before I can accept any position with you, Mr. Baasa.” A quick hand wave cut him off as Abu pulled another drag out of the tower’s pipe.
“Please, Mr. Baasa was Abu Baasa’s Father. You may refer to Abu as Abu. Name your terms, I am in an agreeable mood tonight.” He said dismissively.
“Okay, Abu,” Sofur said with a slight smile and nod toward his large host. “My first term is that of length. You promised me the Welcomeing. You have me in this contract until the time of the Welcoming. If I am there, we will renegotiate. I think with your trainers and promotion, I will be there regardless, so this is more a formality for the contract.
“Two. You release my Uncle’s debt to you unconditionally. No selling his contract, or trading it. Three, no staining my name either. I am your best asset when I am viewed as strong on my own behalf. No thrown fights, no illicit deals, no help. I do it as a result of my own strength or I don’t do it at all. And Finally, I have my Sister ringside at every match, if not in my corner, and Uncle when he can spare the time. No expense to them.” Sofur leaned back for a moment and paused before grabbing one of the pipes for himself and taking a long drag. It tasted of apples somehow.
“I hope these terms are acceptable, Abu.”
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Post by Timeon on Jul 15, 2013 14:04:20 GMT
"I'm afraid that I cannot do as you ask." Abu Baasa said plainly, wrinkle of amusement at the corner of his mouth. It prompted Sofur to rise to his feet rather hastily, and prepare to walk out.
"Then I'm afraid we're finished here, Abu."
"A moment, Sofur. I will accept your terms, all save abolishing your uncle's debt. For your uncle's debt is not with me. I will give him the money to erase it, of course, but your uncle owes money to a friend of the Low Merchant of Sojo. It is the Low Merchant who is looking for him yes?"
Sofur felt the muscles of his arm tense, much as they did before a punch.
"Yes. He is."
"And Abu Baasa knows why, because Abu Baasa helped your uncle start a new life in Ganglir. Why did Abu Baasa do this? Because you misjudge Abu Baasa. There will be no dirty fights, and no smears on your reputation, good Sofur. I ask only that you do not spread filthy rumours about Abu Baasa, like many who have worked for him in the past. We will pay off your uncle's debts. And we will have a good relationship, you and I. We are going to Horush in a couple of weeks. And then Abu Baasa plans to partake in the Sojo tournament afterwards. It is Abu's hope that Sofur will fight in Sojo."
"You would ask that of me? Knowing my history?"
"Of course." Abu Baasa stated. "You may choose to fight under a pseudonym if you wish, though then the fame for your victories in Sojo will be lost on you. The Low Merchant won't recognize Sofur, for he only saw Sofur as a child. But if you wish to fight in Sojo as Sofur Heldstrom, fearless, then Abu Baasa will protect you. And if the Low Merchant plays his hand against you, breaking the law of Sali, then rest assured, Abu Baasa will use it as an excuse to crush that detestable man. But the choice is yours, friend Sofur Heldstrom."
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Post by sargepepper on Jul 15, 2013 15:34:22 GMT
Winter 2485 AS
January (Janssong).
City of Ganglir, The Heights
Sofur took a hard look at the man seated across from where he stood. The silence was palpable as he absorbed the words that Abu has spoken to him. In fact, more had been revealed in those few sentences then an entire conversation with Uncle had revealed. Abu was not the bumbling idiot that Sofur had taken him for originally. In fact, it appeared that Abu had a heart and was trying to help. But what took Sofur’s attention was Uncle’s apparent hatred of the man, or at least, having someone else pay off his debts.
Something was fishy about this whole thing, and while Abu seemed honest at the moment, Sofur had no doubt that this man did not become right off of luck. There was planning behind this man’s eyes. Uncle, while simple, was a good read of people, and a good man. If he had reason to distrust Abu, then so did Sofur. However, Sofur did not see any reason not to take this deal. It offered everything he wanted, and Abu was willing to help Uncle out.
Enough time had passed of Sofur looking at Abu, that he was starting to get visibly concerned that Sofur was going to walk. But before the hulk of a man could say anything further, Sofur spoke.
“I want it known, before I agree, that I do not trust you. Not because you are not hospitable or kind in your offer. In fact, that does you justice. But your weight of reputation precedes you and it is not kind. I will try to keep that from effecting from working with you, though, as you present a fair and agreeable contract. That said, I would be honored to work with you.
“As far as fighting in Sojo, thank you for your offer of protection. I will never fight under any name but my own. Even if the Low Merchant somehow gets to me I will not go down without a fight. Ever.”
He held out his hand for the larger man to shake.
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Post by Timeon on Jul 18, 2013 0:42:09 GMT
The agreement was sealed, and the two men returned to dinner. Basan Grijj was amidst an argument with Valoria Santica. They seemed to be discussing the merits of different fighting styles, while Martuk the Merchant picked at his food silently.
"So, Martuk. What does a tradesman from Anankim sell?" Sofur Heldstrom inquired, seating himself and tucking in his napkin. The words almost slipped out, and he was not sure if he was being rude or polite.
Martuk looked up from his mostly untouched meal, and gave Sofur a knowing look.
"Oh, Anankim may not have much to offer to Sali. But for a man such as myself? Bringing Salimon goods to the besieged in Anankim, now that is profitable."
Somehow, Sofur was not convinced, and Martuk knew it. He smiled slightly, and returned to his idle meal.
"So what makes you so eager to hire this Sofur fellow?" Valoria had her chin in the palm of one hand, seemingly bored. Her argument with Basan had come to an end, for now.
"Abu Baasa has seen dear Sofur fight. Suffice to say, Abu Baasa has an eye for such things."
"Don't we all." Valoria mused. "Well then, why don't you let Sofur fight my champion tomorrow? An unofficial match, to see him in his element. Part of his training, perhaps?"
Abu Baasa's eyes twinkled with comical rage.
"Mina is your most violent fighter. You wish to smack Abu Baasa by crippling his new employee? Mina fights dirty."
"It's alright Abu." Sofur commented, wiping his mouth. "I'll have to think about it either way."
Basan bellowed with an earthquake of laughter.
"I wouldn't mind testing myself against the lot of you. You especially, young Sofur. There's a thing or two I could teach you, you runt."
"No doubt."
Conversation lasted another half hour, before Sofur excused himself and bade everybody goodnight. The following morning, training could begin, and his competitors and allies would begin to seize him up to gauge his worth.
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Post by sargepepper on Jul 22, 2013 18:16:32 GMT
Sofur had showed up early to the gym that he and his sister worked out at. He wanted to get a little warm up routine in before Valoria came in with her fighter. All he knew was that the fighter was a woman and her name was Mina, not that it mattered at all, his sister bested men all the time. It wasn’t a rare thing to see women in the ring in Ganglir, standing toe to toe with larger opponents, and still giving a good fight.
It was just bothering Sofur that he had to fight someone fresh for the first time in a long time. No idea who they were or how they fought, what their tells were. He had nothing at all on this woman. He was feeling a little uncomfortable, butterflies keeping his heart rate up and his punches a little distracted as he felt the blood start to warm up through his body. But soon he lost himself in a rhythm of swaying and punching that was far too familiar to him. He let the simple motions command his mind for the moment, letting his mind slip away.
“So I’m going to guess you are nervous.” The feminine voice rocked him out of his zone, a small stumble as his punch carried a little more momentum than he anticipated as it cruised past the stuffed bag he was working on. There was much more sweat than he thought there should have been and he was panting lightly. Angelina, in her sisterly glory, leaned against one of the walls, watching him with a little sparkle of sibling mischief. He sighed and shrugged, going back to small punches toward the bag.
“A little.” A said curtly. It wasn’t dismissive, and Angelina knew that. Sofur was just warming up. He didn’t speak much before a fight.
“Is it about the fight? I find it strange that you agreed to such a fight without demanding to watch the fighter first.” Sofur nailed the bag again before steading it’s sway with a fist.
“It’s fresh for both of us.” He said, sending a brutal right hook into the bag once or twice. He danced around with light feet for a moment, holding his guard as he watched the bag. His sister watched him for a moment.
“Well, since Uncle has to work in the shop, he sent me to be your Paltur.” Sofur was about to send another hit before he dropped his guard entirely, looking at his sister in disbelief.
“You. My Paltur. You can’t even mop the floor at home properly and Uncle is asking you to be my ringside?” He said half seriously. Angelina faked a hurt look as she held a hand to her ample chest.
“I am shocked and offended, Sofur. I was nursing your wounds when the bullies sent you home at 4 years. I am perfect for this job.” Another voice beckoned from behind.
“Shut up and fight. She’s fine.” The gravelly voice of Kardesh Moorel made him turn and smile. The stocky, soft spoken man that was his coach was right. Fighters were traditionally allowed two people ringside, their coach and their Paltur, or loosely translated as medic. They both allowed for good advice, and granted, Angelina knew her stuff. If she wasn’t fighting, she could have been a good healer.
Sofur took a glance around and even saw Trader Hiij, with his trademark blue turban and blue coat talking to one of the other people next to the ring. He was there to see the fight too, apparently. It had seemed that word had gotten out to a select few about the practice match that was occurring between the two fighters. While Sofur was a known fighter, they also knew that this would be his first real challenge against a similar opponent. Sofur was about to start back onto the bag when a booming voice carried over the room.
“Sofur! My Champion! Come here, let Abu Baasa See you in your glory!” The fat man waddled in, a gold and purple ostentatious coat with white linen trousers that seemed to be near bursting. His jowls jiggled with glee and pomp as the man ushered his followers inside. There was a small entourage of people, mostly servants and caretakers, but both Valoria and her attendants appeared with Basan. Sofur noticed a slight tension between Basan and Kardesh as they nodded to each other, but no further remarks were made. Instead, with a hard clap on the back, Abu swung Sofur around to see the incoming group from his side.
“And here he is, Valoria. I told you he would be here training.” Valoria seemed to hide a small half-smile as she turned to look at a woman behind her. The woman, wearing the standard tight tunic and skirt of female Malvernian fighters already had her hands wrapped. She wasn’t much to look at attractive wise, and Sofur couldn’t tell if she was flat-chested or just taped down. She was a little shorter than him, her blonde hair short and spiked in the back with a white band wrapping around her crown to her neck, keeping it in place. A set of green eyes analyzed him just as thoroughly as he was her, but was really got him was the long scar running from the right side of her mouth, almost to her right eye. It tugged her lip a little, continuously showing a little bit of her tooth, making her seem like she was always snarling. Though, so be fair, her eyes were saying that too.
“What do you think, Mina?” Valoria asked, looking back at Sofur, her eyes also taking in the young man a little longer than necessary, he thought. He could almost feel Angelina bristle behind him, but something kept her in check as Mina simply looked him up and down before grunting reproachingly and looking away.
“Well, hello to you too…” Sofur said with a sarcastic tone as he turned to grab his towel. He felt Mina’s green eyes boreing into his back as he turned, but the tension was cut with a heavy set of chortles from Abu and Basan at the exchange between the two fighters.
“No, play nice you two,” Basan said in a sarcastically fatherly tone. “You will be traveling together, after all. No need to be judgmental, at least right now.” Another round of chuckles as Sofur turned to see Mina rolling her eyes. At least they agreed there. Basan knew his boxing, but damned if the man wasn’t overbearing.
“Well, let’s see what these two can do.” Abu said with a flourish. There was slight applause as the pair made their way to their corners of the boxing platform, coaches and Paltur’s in tow. Angelina grabbed a small bucket and some small tools to help her bandage some of the wounds that Mina was undoubtedly going to inflict on her brother. As everyone climbed into their positions, Mina and Sofur came out to the center of the ring, next to the Caller of the match. He made sure that everyone played fairly, for the most part. Mina just stood there, staring at Sofur with a glare that could melt Sali iron. HE tried to be courteous and offer his hand in the traditional Sali good luck symbol of offering his right hand, his left hand pressing into his elbow. But she just shrugged it off, walking back to her corner as the Caller wrapped up his repetition of the rules. Sofur made a rude gesture to Mina’s back, to the amusement of the audience before slowly backing up to his starting location.
Sofur brought his guard up, keeping the strange Malvernian woman in his sights as she brought her stance to light. Her hands came up, fingers and palms pointed outward in a stance that left some of her torso uncovered. Kardesh recognized the style.
“Lightning Stance. It focuses on power in close combat. Try to keep her back.” He said simply, just as the bell rang.
This was going to be interesting.
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Post by sargepepper on Jul 24, 2013 18:43:31 GMT
Winter 2485 AS
January (Janssong).
City of Ganglir, The Heights
“3 Rounds of fighting, points based off of hits landed and style. Let’s have a good fight.” The board attendant was not even looking in the direction of the fight, he was busy with a sheaf of paper in front of him. He almost forgot to ring the bell. But he did it, and both of the contestants started to edge toward each other immediately. There were a few good hearted cheers and shouts in the growing crowd as several of the Gym regulars who came in around this time saw the fight and started to gather.
Sofur started to move up carefully, trying to gauge this new style he hadn’t seen before, being acutely aware of how long her reach was with those fists. It looked like she was set up to strike powerfully downward with the knuckles, but it didn’t seem all that defense oriented. They simply danced around for a few moments, making eye contact and trying to find an opening to weasel a hit in.
He threw a small test jab to the left, surprised at how quickly her raised hands could block the blow. She tried to counter, throwing a body punch to the right that Sofur pulled his guard up for. It went like this for a few moments more, each testing the other’s guard before Sofur saw the opening he wanted to take. Her raised hands left her midsection unguarded most of the time, and when she reacted to punches, her guard fell a little. He went for the opening gambit, feinting a right hook and watched for her body to shrink to the right before pulling for a hard left punch.
Sofur didn’t even have time to react to the punch she leveled from up high, her guard giving her a perfect vantage point to knuckle a high hit over his right guard into his forehead. His hit didn’t land as hard as he wanted as a result, leaving her a wide opportunity to lash out with her surprising powerful legs, snapping a kick to his ribs, knocking the wind out of him. She grabbed his outstretched arm and let lose another kick, stretching him out and overbalancing him for another fierce strike. Some in the crowd ‘oohed’ at the sound of the strike, and a few others have few claps at the surprise kicks.
Stumbling back, he struggled to push the harsh pain out of his chest, only to see another overhead strike coming in quickly. But he thought quickly, seeing how her power was committed to the hit and knocked it aside with his elbow, already sending a punch right toward her face, slightly smiling from the feeling of resistance as the blow landed on her face.
They continued to trade body blows, suddenly very respectful of the other’s skills, and the bell snuck up on both of them as it resounded. Sofur heaved a sigh as he turned back to his corner, chest still hurting from her kicks. He looked down to see the beginnings of a light bruise across his chest. Angelina tsked at him and Kardesh gave him a frown as they started in on him. Kardesh already had a small waterskin to give to him, Angelina pressing a cold piece of ice to his sore spots.
“I told you.” Kardesh said simply as Sofur winced from the ice.
“I know. It’s a strange style, but damn, it hurts.” He said almost admiringly as he made eye contact with Mina across the ring. She was undergoing a similar treatment to him, but they were paying attention to her face, from the blow early on, it seemed to rock her. Kardesh seemed to know that too.
“Keep on the face. Hard for her to strike and guard at the same time.” Sofur nodded as Angelina patted him on the back. He took a moment to look at her, but also noticed that there were many more people now. Word was spreading quite quickly as he noticed two more people come in, vying to find a good perch.
“Keep that center guard up, bruising is worse than it looks.” She said as the bell rang once more. As the announcer called the second round, he seemed much more interested than he did before, suddenly realizing how closely matched these two fighters were and how much skill and strategy were going into it. Everyone seemed to lean in closer as Mina and Sofur approached each other again.
This time wasn’t nearly as forgiving as last round. Mina came out of the corner and immediately started swinging, putting Sofur on a harsh defensive as she tried to land blow after blow on his sides and chest. He kept up with it, either dodging out of the way or blocking the attacks, but she was fierce. He had to wait on her to tire a bit, but the pain was starting to affect him. His guard was starting to sag as she pressed Sofur up against the ropes. He was expecting another body blow, but even as he looked up, he felt her arms wrap around his head and pull him into a hug. He was confused until he felt a sharp pain in his ribs and realized that, despite some of the rules for close contact in Sali, apparently Malvernians used their whole body.
Her knees were sharp, and he felt the bruising worsen through his ribs. He attempted a few badly aimed hits on her ribs, be managed to off balance her enough that she let go. He pushed forward toward her side that she was balancing on and managed to get her back enough to bring his guard up against another long leg strike. Mina’s eyes went wide as Sofur, instead of blocking it, allowed the strike to connect, letting his guard drop again. As the leg solidly hit home, he grabbed it with the hand on that side, and drug her toward him, keeping her off balance.
Mina hopped toward Sofur, trying to keep her balance, but her hands instinctively lowering to keep her body from twisting on one leg. She looked down for a moment to help her balance. But that was enough to give Sofur a large opening to drop a fierce blow to her face. She recoiled and tried to get a guard up, but the right handed blows raining down upon her were too much to both keep her balance and try to keep her guard up.
The only thing that saved her was the ringing of the bell, and only then did he realize that people were applauding. There was lofty cheering on both sides of the camp and even the announcer was clapping in appreciation of the last round. Sofur barely managed to keep from falling into the side chair, his hand wrapped around his ribs. He could swear he felt something moving in there, but that was more to worry about later. More cold rags with ice shocked his system and Kardesh was wiping his brow. Sofur winced in pain at the attentions of his sister, but knew better than to chide her for it, looking to her serious face. She seemed almost worried about him.
“Good catch. You got her to bleed.” Kardesh said simply as he quickly washed Sofur’s face. Through the wiping, Sofur got a good look at Mina’s quickly swelling eye, her ringside Poltur trying hard to stem the bleeding before the next match. A grim satisfaction took him over at that point, a small smile creeping onto his face as Mina looked at him. She gave him the same predatory smile in return, both knowing that the next round was the last.
The bell rung a last time, the hoots and hollers of the crowd seemingly giving them both a small boost as they nearly ran to each other, both eager to finish the fight. Blows flew and impact were resounding as the two gave everything they had. Mina landed the first major blow, ramming an upper cutting fist into Sofur’s side after a feint of kicks that confused him temporarily. He felt something give, but not snap, thought an explosion of pain nearly overcame him.
He shrugged it off, or at least tried to and went on the offensive, seeing her overbalanced again. Pushing into her high guard, he confused her with a set of feints and hard blows that left her wheeling. A sharp uppercut to her jaw knocked her back, and a hard right hook snapped her head downward, opening up her head wound again. She reeled back and got guarded before Sofur could press in again, but he saw the fire in her eyes. A few test punches before Mina decided it was time to finish him off. A quick set of punches to his guard around his head lead her to believe that his ribs were free to be punished.
She couldn’t have been more wrong. She realized that the blood had dribbled into her vision, blocking her view of Sofur’s guard, but even as she blinked it away, she realized that committing to this hit was a mistake as it revealed Sofur coiling his whole body downward. Her entire body mass was focused on this strike, so she could only watch as the uppercut came into her jaw, blasting into her skull. Her eyes reeled into the back of her head as she flew back and fell onto the hard dirt of the ring. Sofur kept his guard up for a second as the Announcer crawled over to her. With a single drop of her hand and glance at her face, he called it a knockout.
The crowd went ballistic as Sofur held his one hand high, the other cradling his bruised and battered ribs. It was a hard fight, but he won. Angelina ran over and hugged him gently, and even Kardesh was smiling at him.
“ABU WAS RIGHT!” The fat man bellowed as he walked into the ring, money seen changing hands behind him. “I KNEW SOFUR HAD IT! YOUR ARE GOING TO BE FAMOUS, MY BOY, EVEN IF YOU DON’T MAKE IT TO KONSHEER!” YOU BESTED MALVERN’S CHAMPION! THREE CHEERS FOR SOFUR!” Sofur smiled to his crowd, mustache twitching
“Oh, I’ll be getting to Konsheer, Abu. This is just the beginning.”
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Post by sargepepper on Jul 26, 2013 14:12:39 GMT
Later that Day.
Sofur nearly started to scream, slamming a hard fist down on an equally hard wall as the bandages tightened around his ribs. Angelina lightly slapped him on the shoulder, tsking at his outburst. She expertly pulled the bandages tighter around his ribs again, eliciting a gasp of pain from Sofur.
“You..::huff::..did that on purpose.” Sofur said as she tied off the linen whose full purpose to them was to keep all of Sofur’s squishy bits in one place. Angelina had a half smile that belayed her lie as she checked over her handiwork.
“Of course not, Brother. Why would I use my position as Pultar to make jabs and prods at your wounded body when you’ve been oh so inflated since your fight earlier today?” The sweetness of her voice tasted like bitterness to Sofur as he attempted to stand up straight. Pain skyrocketed up his side, kicked down the door to his brain, and jumped it like it owned them money. He staggered for a minute, placing a shaky hand on the table to balance himself, Angelina frozen halfway into a catching position as she waited for Sofur to balance himself.
He nodded to her, tight lipped as he attempted the stand one more time, and satisfied that he wasn’t going to cave under the shifting pain in his chest, started a slow walk to his bed. He accepted Angelina’s help in lowering himself, wincing and grunting as he finally settled down. Recovery was, by and far, the worst part of fighting. The exhilaration, the adrenaline of the fight pushed your bumps and bruises away for the moment, and a good fighter was aware of his injuries, but could ignore them. But once that High was over, and the dust settled, your body let you know, in spades, that it did not appreciate what you just put it through.
The canvas of the straw mattress felt good against the cool day it was turning out to be. It hadn’t snowed yet, but then again, with the fires of forges going around the city, it didn’t much. The residual heat almost seem to soak into the mountain itself. Sofur remembered Winter’s being much more harsh in Sojo, next to the Ocean. He somehow managed to pull the cover over himself without bending too much and settled in, trying to practice the breathing exercises that Kardesh taught him long ago. The bandages were to help keep everything in place while they healed from the swelling, but a few deep breaths helped the muscles keep from seizing and kept them limber. He closed his eyes and took deep breaths, concentrating on the pain and pushing it away from himself. Distancing himself.
He heard a loud pop and opened an eye, looking at the grizzled white beard of his Uncle. He had a familiar bottle uncorked and was holding one out to him on the bed. Sofur painfully shifted up on his bed and accepted the gift, uncorking his own bottle as Uncle sat down. They sat in silence for a while, drinking the deep amber textures of the local Ale that was brewed here, “Val-Shrush.” It had a smooth taste that went down a little too easy for most people. Sofur and Uncle had been doing this for years at this point. Every single time, when he got roughed up and beaten down, Uncle would always be there, no matter what his work schedule was like. He always had a brew, even when Sofur was much younger. It became a tradition between them.
“I hope that the other one is limping, if they put you to bed.” Uncle said with a sidelong smile. Sofur’s mustache twitched as he smiled too, taking another long drag from his warm ale.
“She was out cold when I left her. Not sure how she is now. Haven’t been able to walk over and check.” Sofur said. Uncle didn’t even bat an eye at that. Women were in the military, sailors, and even fighters. They didn’t have a humongous population, so why take perfectly able fighters out of the equation? Just more sipping as they continued to sit in silence, staring off into nothingness, each in their own thoughts.
“I never got to thank you.” Uncle said, balding head turning to look at him. Sofur looked up at him, then glanced at his bottle incredulously.
“Just how potent is this, Uncle? You didn’t slip Jangesh into this did you?” Sofur asked with a hint of humor. Jangesh was the local alternative to the ale there. Highly alcoholic, tasted like tar, sank like a stone in a well. But it did it’s job. Uncle snorted at him, taking another swig.
“Fortoon <Smartass>. Seriously. I have my doubts on Abu. But I know that you didn’t simply take a contract with him for you. He paid me today, setting our last ties to the Low Merchant on fire. We are in the clear for the moment.” Uncle said with relief. Sofur smiled. He hardly got to see Uncle relax, especially when his whole life has been working to make those strings disappear. He held much weight on his shoulders, but for right now, in this moment, Uncle was just pleased to be around his nephew.
“I did it so all of us could have a fresh start. Abu said he could get me to the Welcoming. It’s a great opportunity to get my ass handed to be by all sorts of new and exciting people, in a variety of ways I’ve never seen.” Sofur started to laugh, but let out a long groan as his rib reminded him how true that statement really was. Uncle snorted again, laughing both as Sofur’s regretful laugh and his joke. They were silent for a moment more before Uncle turned full to him.
“I’m proud of you, Sofur. You’ve made a great young man out of yourself and I’m excited to see what the world has in store for you. I’m thankful to see you take on these challenges in stride.” He paused for a moment.
“Your father would have been proud too.” Sofur’s bashful smile slowly faded as the absence of his father and the flashbacks to his murder were made painfully present again. He slowly drank his ale and sighed.
“I miss him, Uncle.”
“There is a spot in every child’s heart that only a father can fill. Do not spoil that spot with grief, Sofur. Your father’s pride and strength shows through you every day. You have his smile too. Carry those with you like the trophies they are and show them to everyone. In that regard, young man, your father will never cease to be.” The words touched Sofur deeply as he wiped a small tear away. But there was stil la small smile as he remembered his own father’s smile.
They would have continued the conversation when there was a knock at the doorway. They had curtains seperating the rooms, so whoever was there either just showed up, and was listening in. They had tact waiting to knock until they had wrapped up their conversation.
"Come in." Sofur said simply, taking a painful deep breath to steady himself.
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Post by Timeon on Jul 29, 2013 14:33:21 GMT
Winter 2485 AS.
February (Chillfern).
Horush, Mountain-Top Academy.
The Mountain-Top Academy was Horush, and Horush was the Mountain-Top Academy. The two were practically indistinguishable, especially because the city's economy relied on catering to the academy itself. Famous persons from around Sali had spent a few fashionable years studying in the academy, to make a statement about their intellect and wealth. It was expected of all notable Salimons to spend a stint studying there.
Of course, all those who could not afford to study there, or had better things to do, ridiculed the academy for its profit-minded mentality. Sofur was not sure what to think, deciding to reserve judgement until he learned more about the academy from first-hand experience. It was convenient, then, that the next tournament would take place in the training arenas of the Order of the Hammer.
Sofur had left Ganglir with Angelina and Kardesh Moorel, and a train of other fighters under the employ of Abu Baasa, Valoria Santica and Basan Grijj. The mountains of Sali were extremely cold at this time of year, and the top of a mountain was even more fearsome. Wrapped in heavy furs, Sofur had entered the mountain academy shivering, barely able to feel his hands. The monks had ushered them in for a quick warm meal, and then put them to sleep in very basic quarters for the night. It was a lot warmer inside than out, but overall, Sofur was still having a hard time of it.
Over the next few days, there was orientation and training, and introductions to the other teams present for the tournament from around the nearby cities. There was a team from Faloosh, one from Ashir, and much to Sofur's bewilderment and discomfort, one from Sojo.
As the teams were gradually introduced to one another, Sofur realised that he recognized somebody. Dusty and easily distracted, Emuel was easy to spot. Emuel had been one of Sofur's best friends, back in their youth, and a bit of a bully. They had made friends when Emuel had tried to take something from Sofur forcefully, and Sofur had beaten him down. He had not seen him since fleeing Sojo, but was not surprised to find him taking part in the tournament.
By the looks of it, easily distracted Emuel had not recognized Sofur yet. When Sofur's name was called, Emuel perked up curiously, made eye-contact, then got a look of disbelief on his face. They were then shuffled off for separate training.
That evening, before dinner, the elusive Martuk paid Sofur a visit as he was about to clean himself up. He knocked on Sofur's door, found it open, and stepped inside.
"Martuk? How may I help you?"
Martuk looked as unreadable and stoic as always, and went about warming his hands by the little brazier Sofur was allowed to keep.
"Just something I'd like to warn you about, dear Sofur."
"What would that be?"
"Well." Martuk said with a quaint smile. "First of all I'd like to extend my congratulations to you for getting this far, as always. But I've got to warn you that the team from Sojo is working for the Low Merchant."
Somehow, Sofur was not surprised. Everything had been going too well for him to relax, he had let his guard down. Was Emuel working for the Low Merchant? More importantly, how in the pits did Martuk know anything about Sofur's problems with Sojo?
"Did Abu Baasa talk of my private business with you?"
Martuk feigned offence.
"Certainly not. But a champion like yourself attracts a lot of attention, Sofur. People who want to invest in you conduct background checks, you see. That's the price of fame. Speaking of which, here's something to cement our friendship. If you ever have a favour to ask of me, just ask. I hope it will go both ways."
Martuk handed him a coin purse, with enough gold in it to cover the profits in uncle's shop for two weeks.
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