The Iron Warrior came straight at Ana with a roar of fury, and a wave of fear broke and washed around Ana as she felt the effect of what must be a high-Level Intimidate Skill. Beyond the veil of her Enhancement, Fearless, and despite her Willpower, she felt herself wanting to back away, or to leap into the air and reassess. At the same time her Perception and Keen Hearing picked up the grinding sound of stone on stone behind her, easily separating it from the mage’s roar and the din of fighting farther up the square.
No doubt another of those stone spears was erupting behind her, to skewer her whether she stood her ground or waited for the mage to throw her back. So Ana advanced, pushing forward with both her legs and her wings. It was that or move to the side, and Ana wasn’t doing that. If this Iron Warrior wanted a standup fight, Ana was happy to give it to her.
Ana led with a jab with her shield to the mage’s face, who was coming in low, arms wide. The jab was bait, more to distract the mage and tempt her to tie up one or both hands with the buckler as Ana struck with her weapon. And it worked. Sort of. Just as Ana had expected, the mage evaded the jab and grabbed the buckler by the rim in one hand. What Ana hadn’t expected was for the mage to then wrench it aside, with such strength and with so much weight behind the movement that Ana’s own Iron Grip sent her stumbling to the side. Only her Perfect Balance kept her on her feet, and the axe-strike she’d aimed at the woman’s side went wild.
Well, that was fine. Before she’s even recovered, Ana used the leverage afforded her by the mage’s grip on her buckler to launch a brutal side-knee at the mage’s head. The mage only barely blocked the strike in time. She struck at Ana’s knee with her elbow but wasn’t quite fast enough to connect, taking the knee on her upper arm. The mage let out a pained grunt, but nothing else. With her unholy combination of almost 100 Strength, an Enhancement, and no less than three Perks increasing the power of her strikes, Ana had expected the dull sound of bone splintering within flesh. That was entirely absent.
Ana was equal parts frustrated and intrigued. Who was this woman? How much of her power and toughness came from her Class, and how much was from Attributes, Enhancements, Perks, and plain magic? With a Class name like Iron Warrior, Ana expected that the mage was specialized in Metal, the way Tellak was; if so, were there things here that Ana could learn herself? Considering the chronically sorry state of her ribs, Ana wouldn’t mind seemingly unbreakable bones, like this mage seemed to have.
She hadn’t just taken the strike, either. While Ana had been too quick for the woman to get her arm around Ana’s leg after the knee-strike, she’d still managed to latch on to the back of Ana’s thigh with her hand. She used that grip, along with the one on Ana’s buckler, to put some distance between them. Simply put, between her massively increased weight, her Strength, and her two points of grip, the Iron Warrior had everything she needed to twist at the hip, shove off with her legs, and hurl Ana across the square, in the direction of the stone pillars cutting off access to and from southern Main Street.
She also took the opportunity to cause a small field of short spikes to rise from the ground, because of course she did. Again, only Ana’s wings saved her from being impaled as a powerful beat stopped her short of the spikes, depositing her on her feet.
The Iron Warrior stalked toward her. They were both warier now. They were each stronger than the other had expected. Neither was sure how to proceed; Ana could both see and feel that some of the thoughtless fury in her adversary had bled away, replaced with a caution much more suitable to someone of her Level.
Ana started forward as well, waiting for a move that didn’t come. They settled into a slow, circling pattern, each looking for an opening.
“You’re good!” Ana panted as they circled. “Better than Summerland. Weaker, but better.”
“Oh yeah? Met him, did you?” the Iron Warrior asked.
“Met him? I killed him,” Ana replied, pushing hard on Intimidate as she did her best impression of one of Kaira’s sharktooth grins. And she was rewarded as the mage’s step stuttered for just a fraction of a second, surprise or fear or even Arresting Gaze getting the better of her for just long enough for Ana to make her move…
“Bullsh—” the mage started, but Ana was moving. She’d pushed off hard, launching herself straight at the woman and counting on the distance being too close, the time to cross too short for another of those stone spikes the mage seemed so fond of. And perhaps it was. But it wasn’t too close for her to let off another blast of small stones. Ana barely got her shield and her weapon arm up to cover her face before the shards hit her, some spattering off her buckler, others shredding her sleeves and leaving shallow cuts in her arm, neck and scalp where she had only Ironskin to protect her.
The Iron Warrior used the momentary distraction to slip to the side, but Ana’s Keen Hearing warned her; and when Ana lashed out with her weapon she was too close for the mage to dodge, block, or deflect. Even before she opened her eyes, Ana was rewarded with a meaty thud and a dull crunch, almost simultaneous with something between a yelp and a groan as the hammer head of her weapon found flesh.
It wasn’t first blood, but Ana was willing to bet that it was the first significant hit. But it wasn’t all good. First of all: that had been a full-power hit. It had drawn blood, yeah, and it might have cracked or broken a rib, but that was it. Ana had struck changelings with less force, and it had caved in their entire damn ribcage. The mage was tough as hell. She was also quick, and Ana didn’t have time to pull her weapon back before the mage seized it in both hands and jerked so hard that it pulled Ana toward her, right into a powerful if artless kick. The mage’s boot caught Ana in the waist, and between the combined forces of the kick and the pull on the weapon, and Ana’s Unbreakable Grip, she disarmed Ana in one of the few ways possible: as Ana was sent back several feet, the wrapping on her weapon tore off the haft, leaving her with a handful of leather strips, and the mage in possession of her hammer-axe.
“There,” the mage ground out, throwing the weapon into the darkness. “That’ll—”
The distinctive snap of a crossbow cut through the air from the direction of the temple, the sound muted by the distance. Both women turned their heads in that direction, Ana a fraction of a second before the mage, and Ana leapt back more out of instinct than because she saw the bolt coming. The damn thing passed so close in front of her that she heard the whirr of its flight, and at first she was ready to curse whoever it was for either not being able to separate friend from foe, or for their piss-poor aim. But… no. Neither made sense. With her wings out, not only was Ana the most distinctive figure in the square, but she was literally lit up. There wasn’t a target there easier to identify or aim for.
Whoever fired that crossbow had been trying to hit her.
Which made it all the more surprising when the mage before her took two seconds to Shape and launch a trio of orange-sized rocks in the direction the bolt had come from. “Fuck off!” she screamed into the darkness. “Can’t you see we’re having a gods-damned duel?!” Her attack was followed shortly by a distant yelp and the sound of shattering roofing tiles.
Seemingly satisfied, the mage turned back to Ana. “I was saying,” she said, gesturing to the scraps of leather that Ana still clutched in her hand, “that’ll make things more even.”
From maybe ten feet away, Ana looked at the Iron Warrior. She began circling again, the mage doing the same. The mage’s face was locked in a pained scowl, and a small, dark stain was spreading on the left side of her dress’s bodice, right under the arm. Other than that, though, she looked as ready to fight as ever. And she had no idea what she’d just done to herself by disarming Ana.
“Do you know how I killed Summerland?” Ana asked, tossing her buckler aside and stopping when the mage had her back to the temple. There she went into a basic ready stance — hands high, light on her feet, and ignoring the sting of several shards of stone cutting into her soles.
The mage stopped when Ana did. Behind her a dense series of stone pillars grew out of the ground, adding to the general mess of the square. They formed a wall five feet wide and eight tall, effectively shielding the mage from any crossbow fire, but also preventing her from retreating. That suited Ana just fine.
“I don’t think you did,” the mage said, getting into something more like a boxer’s long guard. “No way you killed an Ascender, even a spoiled prick like him. I think he thought better of this whole shambles and ran.”
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She had Ana on the whole, “You didn’t kill him,” thing. That was true. It was Messy who’d actually killed them man, after all. But the Iron Warrior didn’t need to know that. Frankly, it was better if everyone thought Ana was fully and solely responsible; the less risk of someone trying to avenge the Ascender but coming after Messy, the better. So instead of acknowledging the mage’s comment at all, Ana let her face relax to her natural, unaffected expression. Her wings chose that moment to dissipate and return them to the dark of night, so she couldn’t tell what expression the woman gave her in return. It didn’t matter.
“One thing I’ve discovered since being dragged into this place,” Ana said, closing with careful steps, “is that people here have no real concept of the art of unarmed combat. Or arts, really. Nobody has even heard of a formalised, coherent fighting style. And don’t get me started on grappling. I can show people the simplest throws and holds, and the way they look at me is like they’ve never heard of magic, and I’m demonstrating the Craft of Joint Locks. Do you even know what a joint lock is?”
“I’ve trained under some of the best Unarmed Combat tutors the Primes have to offer,” the woman replied.
“That’s not a yes. Do you know what a choke is, then? A proper one, not just strangling someone with your hands?”
“Is there a point to this, or do I have to impale that woman you were trying to protect to get you to stop stalling?” the mage asked, her eyes flicking to somewhere over Ana’s left shoulder, in the direction Ana knew that Messy lay.
Ana didn’t take the bait. “A choke,” she continued, “is a hold, practically unbreakable no matter how strong you are, that cuts off your air and often the flow of blood to the brain. That’s how Summerland died, and with how tough you are to hurt, that’s what I’m going to do to you.”
Every word Ana spoke had been entirely conversational. No anger. No amusement. She delivered her explanation of how she intended to kill this woman the same way she might explain how to get to the baths. The whole time she kept her eyes on the mage’s, and slowly, bit by bit, she saw the confidence drain out of her. Between Honest Face making others more likely to believe her, and 90 Effective Charisma with her bonuses active, it would take a monstrous combination of Sense Motive and Willpower for anyone to convince themselves that Ana was lying when she was, in fact, telling the truth.
“Stop talking and come at me!” the mage spat, but there was an undertone of anxiety to her whole demeanour now. Fear, even.
Ana gave her what she wanted. She took small steps forward, shifting carefully to the left as she did to put herself between Messy and the Iron Warrior. The whole time she used half of her Split Focus to stay on guard for any sign of Shaping. And she kept talking, barely even pausing for the mage’s reply. “It really gives you time to understand that you’re going to die, and that there’s nothing you can do about it,” she told the woman. “I don’t know what your Vitality looks like, but from experience I’d guess it’ll take at least a minute for you. A minute of the pressure building in your head, pounding against your skull as the darkness slowly creeps in.”
As Ana moved and spoke she pushed hard on her Intimidate Skill, and as she reached the edge of the distance she could clear with a lunging kick, the mage cracked.
The Iron Warrior took first one step back, then another. Then she was matching Ana step for step. The mage kept the distance between them without seeming to even be aware that she was doing it, her eyes locked on Ana’s, until her back foot touched the stone wall behind her. Her whole body jerked in shock. Then, with nowhere left to retreat, she attacked.
Ever since crashing into the square, Ana had been wondering at how much mana there was available. The Waystone hadn’t yet recovered to where it was when she first began to learn to feel mana, but it still reduced the available mana in the outpost significantly, and the effect was stronger the closer one got to the obelisk itself. There shouldn’t be anywhere near as much to work with as there was.
The obvious reason was that the Earthbreaker and his mages or, more likely, Karti the Grand Summoner had done something to the Waystone. That was deeply concerning. But in the moment Ana had mixed feelings about it, because while it let her adversary let loose another blast of stone shrapnel, this time at close range, it also allowed Ana to push as much mana into her Ironskin as her skill with the Shaping could allow. The shotgunning rocks still made an absolute mess of the front of her forearms and hands as she ducked her head and closed her guard before her face, but nowhere near what she’d’ve expected from such an attack with only her Vitality and other toughness bonuses to mitigate it.
Under most circumstances, Ana would’ve dodged. She wouldn’t have just thrown her arms up and taken it. But this time she couldn’t move, and for two reasons. First and foremost, Messy was behind her. If she moved the spray of shrapnel might hit her, and Ana had no idea how badly hurt she already was or how much damage those stone shards might do even at twenty feet or so. Second, she wanted the psychological impact on the mage of seeing her Shaping hit with full force and not slow Ana down at all. It was going to suck terribly once she started feeling pain and blood loss fully again, but for now, she’d trade her flayed forearms for the morale advantage without hesitation.
When Ana opened her arms a moment later, the mage was already coming at her with a wild forward kick with her left leg that her skirts did nothing to hinder.
Who could say what the woman expected to happen? A hit, a dodge, or an attempted block, most likely. It looked like an attempt to make some space more than anything. From the way her eyes flared, Ana knew for a fact that she didn’t expect Ana to turn side-on and step into the attack.
As Ana slipped past she looped her right arm around the mage’s leg, sliding up until her elbow was behind the woman’s knee. The mage threw a right hook. She should have struck with her elbow instead; Ana was already too close, close enough to slip her left, forward foot up next to the mage’s planted right one and snake her left arm around the mage’s back, taking a firm grip on the fine textile of her dress.
The mage’s punch ended up wrapping around Ana’s neck. To anyone watching, it might have looked for a moment as though they were locked in a figure of some passionate dance. That is, until Ana twisted clockwise at the hip, heaved, and slammed her partner side-first into the cobbles with a thud that was far too loud for two women of their size, but made far more sense considering the mage must have increased her weight to well above 500 pounds, and hardened her skin until it was as hard as the stones she crashed into..
“Ready to learn about chokes?” Ana hissed. She fought to manoeuvre her arms into position, her left wrist coming up to push around the mage’s throat while Ana’s right arm hooked around the back of the mage’s neck, grabbing onto her left bicep. The increased Dexterity from Twist and Lock helped. So did the blood running freely from Ana’s arms and coating her hands. It was still a hell of a fight. The mage struggled frantically to try and push Ana off, and she was monstrously strong. Possibly stronger than Ana was without her combat bonuses, which hadn’t happened for months now.
“Some people—” Ana grunted, “think that you can’t— do a front naked choke.” She managed to get her right leg over the mage’s left one, getting into something resembling a proper mount and, more importantly, making it impossible for the Iron Warrior to impale her on one of those stone spikes without first putting it through herself. “You definitely— can, though!” she ground out, as she finally got her wrist into position. And the mage felt it, her groans and struggles growing more frantic. Now all Ana had to do was to get a good grip on her bicep with her right hand and—
“Yield!” the mage gurgled through her constricting throat. Even her goddamn throat was strong! “I yield! Gods, I yield!”
“Nah,” Ana breathed into her ear, finally getting her right hand into position and flexing hard to fully close the choke. “Too late.”
The mage choked and fought and jerked, but without technique there was nothing she could do. Ana was stronger, and she was better, and she was in a dominant position. She’d shifted her knees up, making it hard for the woman to even try to strike with the one arm that wasn’t pinned to the side of her head, and though her legs were free she could kick and buck all she wanted. She wasn’t getting Ana off. Now all Ana had to do was to hold the choke until the woman passed out, and—
A regal voice, weary but strong, called out, “Stop! Stop this madness! Has this not gone too far? Have we not seen too much death already?”
It was a voice Ana recognized. Once that tried to worm its way into her mind, to steal the will to fight from her flesh and bones and leave her paralyzed with fearful indecision. It was the voice of Karti the Grand Summoner, a man she should have killed when she first got her hands on him. The square fell silent in its wake, but Ana’s will had been too strong the first time, and it was stronger now. Karti’s words passed over her, and through her, and when it had gone she was as resolved as ever, her pressure on the Iron Warrior’s throat unrelenting.
The woman’s eyes rolled back, her eyelids fluttering as she fought to stay conscious. It wouldn’t be long now.
But someone else had resisted Karti’s call for peace. “I believe that she yielded!” a firm male voice called out from much closer than Ana was comfortable with. It had the same refined quality as that of the woman Ana was currently killing.
“Too bad!” Ana grunted out, twisting her head to see who was talking. But of course she could barely see in the partial moonlight. All she saw was a handful of shapes on the plinth, one of them holding another. She couldn’t even Inspect them at that distance.
“Let me rephrase,” the man said, not urgently but in a tone that expected obedience. “Release Aaspiyah, and I will do the same to this Vanguard-cum-Clerk and our other captives, and then we can talk. Fail to do so and I will kill them and any of your downed guildmates who still live, while my remaining companions rescue their colleague. The fight is over. You’ve lost, Chosen. Stand down!”
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