Awkward

SUMMARY Rona and Malorn beat each other up while Aya observes, but Malorn is far better at it. Later they talk about religion.

Despite undead dragon gods threatening the universe or wights sprouting up on one's own backyard, there are always those able to find the time to pummel one another for leisure. They tend to congregate here, as do those spectators who enjoy such more casual, less deadly beatings for their own amusement. Aya is among the latter category, currently, observing a rather sparse gathering of sparrers from a perch atop the stone overhang above one of the more prized seating boxes.

Malorn is down amongst those that are fighting. He is dressed simply and has the hooded top of his tunic drawn up over his head and pulled down low as he waits for his turn in the fights. He stands a bit off by himself, observing the others as they fight.

Yelrona , for her part, has been making more of an effort to learn the arts of unarmed combat of late. Mostly, the result has been reinforcing her belief that combat is best engaged in at a distance with a bow, but she _is_ improving, for what that's worth. Which doesn't stop the more dedicated fighters from mopping the floor with her, admittedly. She is paired up for the next match with a white-haired Mul'niessa, and nods a greeting to the man before dropping into a defensive stance. "OK, then!" she says cheerfully. "Let's see what you've got!"

One corner of Aya's mouth lifts at Yelrona's continued zeal. A worthy trait... at least until it zeals one into unconsciousness. She is aware that she is not the only one observing for more than entertainment, and the two combined prompt her to relocate to a nearer vantage point. She reappears adjacent to the hooded mul, attention upon Yelrona as her next spar begins. "Have you noted anything interesting in your opponents?" she inquires askance.

Malorn glances over at Aya, "The one I am up against next looks as if she is an archer, based on her arm muscles. This should prove interesting." He says as he makes his way towards Yelrona and he bows to the woman who's running the sparring before he bows to Yelrona. He notes her defensive stance and he drops into a stance as well as he starts to move towards her. His movements are much like a big cats as he stalks towards Yelrona, but at the last moment he goes to move past her leaving himself open for an attack, perhaps daring her to try to strike at him.

Yelrona doesn't know what to say to Aya. "Beyond the obvious? Not really." She sets the question aside as the match starts. To her credit, Rona does consider the possibility that the opening is a feint, but she takes it anyway, trying for an arm-lock on Malorn's exposed side.

"Indeed..." Aya doesn't make it clear to whom her comment is directed. Perhaps both. She doesn't clarify, either, as it would be impolite to interrupt the pugilistic pair. Not to mention it would dampen the entertainment for all involved.

Malorn was counting on Yelrona to take the opening rather then let him move by. His arm is grabbed in the arm lock, but he's quick enough to send a lightning fast strike with his other arm at Yelrona's side, trying to hit her hard enough to make her let go of his arm, but not enough to give her more then a bruise. They are just sparring after all.

Malorn's strategem works easily enough... while Rona is not an inexperienced fighter, she has no particular skill at this sort of sparring. His strike hits, knocking her back, but she recovers quickly and retaliates with a roundhouse kick to his side.

Malorn falls back into his style as the roundhouse kick comes at him. He can't get out of the way of it fast enough and he takes the hit on his shoulder. He counters with a straight kick to Yelrona's solar plexus before he takes a step back to ready himself.

Yelrona tries to back out of the way of his kick, but her weight has been too fully committed to her own, and it lands solidly. "Ooof!" She lets the impact of the blow and her own failed attempt at evasion knock her back a few feet, nods, and grins lopsidedly. "Dare you to try that again..."

Malorn doesn't try it again as he leaps at Yelrona and performs a flying kick at her shoulder. He lands and whips his leg around to kick at her other shoulder. Malorn's limbs are moving fast as he throws an elbow at her midsection before he brings his fist up to hit her chin. He's pulling his punches though so that his hits are going to leave just bruises not wounds.

Yelrona was expecting _something_ of course, but the monk's flurry of blows is just too fast for her to avoid. She manages to avoid the elbow, but the kick and punch both strike, leaving her woozy and probably no more than one solid combination from going own. She retaliates with a punch of her own to the man's midsection... she's making no attempt to pull her punches, but it doesn't really make a difference in her case.

Malorn is hit in the midsection and he lets out a grunt. He throws a punch at Yelrona's head, but it's a wild haymaker. He uses the momentum to spin around and go to trip Yelrona as his leg sweeps out.

Yelrona is a bit punch-drunk by this point... perhaps she's been sparring too much... and commits herself to blocking Malorn's punch. Foolishly, as it turns out, as the attack goes wild... a feint, mostly, distracting her from the man's elegant legsweep, which takes her feet out from under her. She gets back up quickly, leaving herself wide-open in the process.

Malorn kicks at Yelrona's head, but his foot stops an inch before her face. He looks at her and accesses her, "Do you yield?" He asks as he has no desire to hurt someone. It's one thing to spar, it's another to keep fighting when caught up in the heat of the moment.

Morgan has arrived.

Yelrona grins. "The alternative is being pummeled into unconsciousness, yes? Which unlike some people, I have yet to develop a taste for. Yes, I yield," she says amiably, tapping the ground in the conventional signal before rolling to her feet and offering her hand. "You are _very_ good at this."

Malorn slowly and in a very controlled way pivots and lowers his leg to the ground. He takes Yelrona's hand to help her up. "I would strive not to pummel you too badly, but some people persist long past when they should have stopped." He inclines his head, "I do my best, but I still have much to learn."

"Well," Rona replies as she shakes his hand, "part of the point _is_ to learn how to take a hit. It's not like ogres in the wild will pull their punches, after all. But, yes, a lot of fighters here are... well, less _disciplined_ than you seem to be. Where did you train?" she asks curiously, then... "Sorry. Where are my manners? ," she says formally in sildanyari, "though I haven't been back there in years. Which is probably for the best, if the shrine spirit there is still mad at me."

Malorn moves out of the ring to let the next match start. He stretches out and he rubs his arms to loosen his muscles up. "Well that is important, knowing how to take a hit in the right way can mitigate the damage. I trained in a monastery dedicated to Navos, but the monks there only set me on the path, it was up to me to walk it. Even when the path was rough like when the Dran took it over and I was forced to come here." He pauses for a moment as Rona switches to sildanyari and he replies back to her in it. < I am Focus Malorn. > He switches back to common, "Why would the shrine spirit be mad at you?"

GAME: Yelrona rolls knowledge/religion: (1)+7: 8 (EPIC FAIL)

Yelrona looks puzzled by the title, and shrugs. "Well, that's a long story, and I don't know most of it. But the short form is she apparently had blessed me for a particular task when I was born, and then I screwed things up by taking vows in the Temple of Tarien." She shrugs. "I'll have to clean that up some day, but, well, there are more important things going on at the moment."

GAME: Malorn rolls Knowledge/Religion: (2)+10: 12

Malorn nods, "Yes I know about being born into obligations. They are not so easily discarded are they. Yes I've heard of the undead invading the city. I was away on an escort mission and am relieved that the city's adventurers were able to protect the city."

"Well, don't be so quick with the past tense!" Rona replies with a smile that doesn't quite reach her eyes. "The undead threat is still quite real, and we're still protecting the city. Dragonier... well, I don't pretend to understand what drives Heth's timetable, but it is too smart to just throw its forces at us like that without a plan. That was the overhead swing... we need to be watching out for the dagger in the ribs."

Malorn nods solemnly, "Indeed we have to keep vigilant against the thread that the Undead Dragon has planned. Very true, while we are worried about the undead coming at the door, something else could be sneaking in underground. Perhaps the sewers should be investigated. I know it's not something that adventurers like to do, but it should be done."

"Good thought," Rona agrees. "I know there were shenanigans going on recently with wights in the sewers in some outlying districts, no reason to expect they wouldn't do the same here. Or the Morduzumite tunnels, or... well, there's no shortage of routes into the city, really. I mean, even with martial law declared, it's not particularly difficult to get in and out." She grins. "But if that was an invitation to go sewer-hunting, I'll have to take a raincheck. Admittedly I've been on weirder dates," she adds, teasing, "but I have a meeting scheduled with some Artificers later today I should prep for at some point. You don't happen to know anything about pre-Sundering Kulthian necromancers, do you?"

Malorn listens to Rona explain what else has been going on, "I'll have to keep an ear out at the Adventurer's Guild then if they are planning more expeditions into the sewers. Not fun, but necessary to keep the city undead free." He doesn't comment about the raincheck on the sewer date, he merely shakes his head, "Sorry I don't. That wasn't one of my fields of study at the Monastery."

Yelrona nods. "I didn't think it likely, but it was worth asking. Navosians turn out to know the strangest things sometimes. So," she says casually as she walks to her locker and begins to don the gear she set aside for the sparring matches, "what _did_ you study?"

Malorn nods, "My knowledge is mostly about religion and things related to that. Training, how to live an ordered life, focusing on your mind, body and spirit to overcome the limits that might be thought of as impossible."

"Sure, makes sense. Sorry... most of the Navosians I've met are kind of packrats about information, they just end up picking up expertise about all kinds of odd things. I guess it's as much of a stereotype as Tarienites being unable to resist a good practical joke... well, except that's kind of true," Rona admits. "When the new class of acolytes arrives every year it's hard to find a pew _without_ a whoopee cushion for the first few weeks."

Malorn shrugs, "It's all right I am not your typical worshiper of Navos. Yes many of the other monks and clerics and devotees of Navos do fit the image of a horder of knowledge, but Navos is not the god I worship, even though I follow his teachings."

"Oh? Sorry, I assumed, since you mentioned a Navosian monastery. Who do you follow, then?" Rona asks curiously.

Malorn hmms, "I don't worship any god in particular I worship them all, however my soul is all ready owned by the Shadow Sorceress." He says matter of factly.

Yelrona blinks, startled. "That's... not funny," she replies. Tilts her head to one side. "But then you aren't joking are you?" She regards the man judiciously. "Hers is not a welcome faith in these lands," she says eventually. "But I imagine you know that."

Malorn shakes his head, "No I'm not joking, again I don't worship her or follow her, but I like all others Mul'niessa, have our souls owned by her. There is little we can do about it, but just because she owns our souls doesn't mean that our actions have to be in her benefit. We can strive to help others and live lives other then what she wants." He knows he's getting some looks from others. "If you'll excuse me I should be headed back to the monastery." He gives a bow before he departs.