The Horny Unicorn

OOC

OOC: Okay, okay... I surrender... the thread will go on. However, please note that neither Isolde nor Imoen wish to continue their characters. Isolde has already written herself out of it, and I've pretty much written Imoen out. (Seeing as how I have the RL Imoen to cuddle, this isn't as traumatic to Thorr as you might think ;) ) Brat, you and HighKing could do me a huge favor, and ask any of the others if they want to continue. I'll likely be busy this weekend, but I'll try to get something posted before I take off. Thank you both for your continued interest. And post to Lords and Ladies! (A much better thread, imho ;) )
 
*sighs* okay...okay...Neale, you wont have to go through this alone...have someone go get Isolde from her trip to barbarian lands...you can even make that your next quest if you want...and I will rejoin.
 
OOC: Oh, pep talk time. Yay. Alright, I'll leave now. Again. 'Cause I know no one likes me. :(
 
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Kitsuke

OOC: Kitsuke and Isolde are plotting, this encounter we would prefer it be one on one... thanks for your patience, cooperation and general cuddliness. (You are all cuddly, even you Neale, just don't ask ME to cuddle with you ;))



Kitsuke turned to the priest he'd brought with him as Isolde stormed out, her anger evident. He stood confused for a moment and then finally asked the large exbarbarian what had upset her.

"It is the wedding of her brother that upsets her, funny little man." the large man answered, "You see, a barbarian woman may not..." the priest leaned closer and he and Kitsuke spent nearly an hour in the corner discussing various barbarian customs.

After that Kitsuke rose ith a strange gleam in his eye and went up to his room, strapping on his gear he carefully spent the next two hours preparing his mind and body for the journey. Striding downstairs he lifted a hand in farewell and bid the others good journeys.

------------------

He had traveled slowly for a day and a half, making sure he was on the right course. He chose his spot as midafternoon neared, between two craggy, nearly impassable peaks that shot down to a narrow cleft that cut almost straight down to the ground. He had run for several hours that morning, making a wide circuit around her to avoid her detecting his presence and to get far enough ahead to be ready.

As she approached the cleft his form became more and more apparent. Drawing near she saw the oriental guy that had dropped in in the tavern. His armor, tetsubo and his swords were arranged in a neat pile just over ten feet from him. He sat croslegged in the soft sand in front of the narrow canyon, effectively blocking it, it was only seven feet wide after all. He was wearing loosefitting leggings that were gathered at the waist and ankles. His bronzed bare chest and torso shimmered with sweat in the hot sun and his eyes were closed. For all appearances he seemed asleep sitting up.

As she approached withon twenty feet of him, his eyes opened. Standing he dusted himself off lightly, but made no move to step aside.

Bowing to her in the eastern fashion he spoke.

"Oth takas rehk nithakla." his tongue twisted somewhat clumsily over the unfamiliar words, but Isolde could not mistake one of (the many) ritual challenges from her homeland.

Reaching a foot behind him he drew a line in the sand with his toe, this telling her she would not get past him.

Apparently, easterners were arrogant little bastards.
 
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Isolde shouldered her bags and turned on her heels grumbling about too many people trying to think like barbarians. Of course this was an oxymoron in itself because 'think' and 'barbarian' should not be used in the same paragraph much less sentence.

Still she traveled toward her home land. Something pulled her there though she did not know what. She had been gone a long time and maybe that was it but she doubted it. More than likely it was simply that her brother's wedding had struck a note in her and she was pretty sure that looking for a mate outside of the barbarian culture was a lost cause. It was just too hard to find a man who could best a barbarian woman unless it was a barbarian man. And even most of those couldnt best her.

If she was truthful with herself the guy from the inn was right...she was giving up and going home to settle for second best. No one in her villiage had been able to best her and she was pretty sure that that at least hadnt changed.

It was with these thoughts in mind and a growing sense of irritation that she came to travel between the peaks. She slowed down her pace as she saw a figure up ahead. She was more than a little puzzled and curiosity won her over so she begin walking towards it again.

The sight that met her eyes made them widen and her jaw almost drop. There was the easterner sitting crosslegged with his funny weapons lined up. Walking forward, her eyebrows raised, she was about to ask him he thought he was doing blocking her path and had he gone out of his mind when his eyes opened and he stood to face her.

And then he uttered his challenge, in her own language even and for a moment all she could do was stare at him and then she burst out laughing.

Dropping her bags on the ground right there, she grabbed hold of her stomach and had to lean against the stone wall to support herself, she was laughing so hard.

"You...you have...have got to be...to be kidding," She finally got out, the tears streaming from her eyes as she just about fell down from laughing so hard.

It took her several minutes to get ahold of herself again and finally she was able to stand without having to double over, chuckles breaking out every once in a while though she tried to suppress them.

"Thank you for the laugh,"She said, her smile telling him that she didnt think much of his offer,"Now, if you will move out of the way, I am on my way to find someone who can back those words with some action."

Stepping forward, she placed a hand on his bare shoulder in order to move him from her path so that she could could continue her journey.
 
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Kitsuke

"It is intersting to note that barbarian custom allows for one to flee from a challenge in a cowardly fashion." Kitsuke said flatly as she went to walk past him.

Her hand on his shoulder tensed.
 
Isolde froze in her tracks, her hand tensing on his shoulder. Stepping back, she looked at him, fury plain in her eyes as she moved away from him and dropped her bags, this time deliberately.

"You are the second person in two days to tell me I am running away. I let the first one go without a fight but I am tired of acting 'civilized'. You want to get your ass kicked....I can do that."

Rolling up her sleeves, she moved into position. "Lets make this quick. I have some traveling to do."

Without another word, she let fly a punch intended to take him right between the eyes and knock him for a loop.
 
Kitsuke

The goad had worked perfectly, her emotions were now out of sync with her body. Distractions such as these usually did not matter in the heat of battle, but in a one on one fight personal and mental balance was everything.

Kitsuke ducked under the arm with astonishing speed and put his right hand up into her elbow, bending it upward. Spinning to the left around her body he bumped his hip into hers as he passed by her, causing her commited blow to unbalance her. Now behind her he grabbed her right wrist with his left hand, his right still pushing her elbow up out of locking position. With a nearly gentle push he sent her down onto the ground, kneeling next to her and keeping both grips tight as she fell.

Within moments of her first swing he was teaching her right elbow to touch her left shoulder blade.

"Yield." he said.
 
Isolde's face was a mask of frustration, surprise and pain as she looked over at him. She shook her head and spoke through gritted teeth.

"Why? Because you cheated with some fancy dance steps? Fight me! If I want to dance I will go back to the Unicorn!"

Struggling against the surprising strength of his hold, she said,"Let me up and fight like a man, Dammit, not some showroom dancer!"
 
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Kitsuke

The pressure released so suddenly that it seemed not to be gone for a moment, her muscles in her arm were getting strained so far. Quickly he made his way back and stood in front of the line in the sand again and took up stance, looking at her nonchalantly.

"Admit defeat or tomorrow will be very painful on your sore body, my future wife." he said with a trace of a smile.
 
OOC: *pouts*

Well, actually, Kitsuke, I was going to ask ye, but Imoen might disapprove... You think Isolde's tough? Heh.
 
"Admit defeat or tomorrow will be very painful on your sore body, my future wife." he said with a trace of a smile.

His future wife? Oh no! He did not just say that! Scrambling to her feet again, she rubbed her arms to get them back into fighting shape.

"Okay, I was going easy on you before," She said, her eyes narrowing,"But now I dont hold back."

Twisting to the side, she brought her right elbow up and cupped her right fist with her left hand to give it more power. Swinging her elbow with all her might, she aimes for his stomach in a common elbow punch which she then would add a face punch as she released her right fist and swung it right at his nose, intending to break it.
 
Kitsuke

As her elbow drove toward him he took a half step forward, striking out with three limbs all at once. His right knee comes sideways as his left hand performs and closed fist strike coming in from the other side, the end of the fist, not the knuckles contacting. His right hand makes an open palm block onto her forearm, preventing the secondary blow. All three meet at once on her arm. His fist and knee come together on her elbow, his position not allowing him to put any real force behind it, but it sure smarted like hell.

"If you persist in resisting I shall be forced to start using second year techniques on you, I do not want to mar your beauty with bruises." his manner became even more relaxed, and she may notice though his voice is here his eyes seem somehow slightly distant. "And remember to always control your breathing when fighting. The breath controls the flow of the strike. Remain true to it and your power will be uninterrupted."
 
Isolde was steaming now even through the pain in her arm which she refused to rub and give him the satisfaction of knowing the blow hurt her. Not only does this foreigner think that he has what it takes to beat her after none of the much larger men of her village could do just that but he was now trying to lecture her on how to fight!

Clenching her jaw so hard it hurt, she said,"'Scuse me? Do you know how many men I have taken down? Do you really think that you can defeat me with your tricks and traps? A couple of lucky shots does not win you the right to assume anything where my future is concerned."

Walking over to her bags, she picked up a bundle and unwrapped it. Inside was a gleaming long sword that had been kept polished and sharpened. It gleamed as it caught the sunlight.

Picking it up and testing the weight, it fit in her hand like a glove. It was the sword her father had given her the day she left barbarian lands.

Moving over to face him again, she smiled a hard smile. "Now to see how well you do without dance steps," She said as she nodded toward his odd weapons,"Or are those just for show?"
 
Kitsuke

Hooking one foot under his katana in it's sheath he flipped it up, catching it by it's saya (sheath) just under the hilt. Reaching his other hand out he slowly draws the blade, it's polished edge gleaming in the sun. Dropping the saya back onto the other equipment he reverently whispers to his blade for a moment and then straightens. Gripping the hilt two-handed he bows again to Isolde.

"At your leisure, and relax your left arm. You will never have a true arc with it tensed up like that." his face had become completely blank as he looked at her, all traces of humor gone from his features.
 
Now talking to your sword was something that Isolde could understand. Most barbarians went so far as to name their blades and, in battle, the blade was your partner and so it having a name was simply a logical step. Though, a barbarian tradition said that you could not tell anyone the name of your blade in case someone was to enchant it against you. Barbarians tend to be superstitious.

But then he thought to give her...daughter of one of the most feared barbarians in the land...lessons in sword play. Isolde saw red and her brows drew together over eyes that swirled with anger.

"Anyone you wish me to notify of your death?," She said in a tight voice as she stepped forward with her right foot and brought her sword in an arc from the right, twisting her body to add to the blow and aiming for his ribs and the flesh over it.
 
Kitsuke

Kitsuke brought his sword up as he stepped forward, catching her blade as she swung. He did not block the blow, that would have been sheer suicide, rather he redirected the energy upward so her already neck high swing went harmlessly above his head. That done he planted his bare foot right into her abs, delivering a solid kick.

"Actually if I do happen to die, I would appreciate it if you would tell my fiancee. She is about your same height, same hair, same exotic beauty." He replied to her calmly then added in an almost angry tone, "Never commit that fully with your initial attack! I could have killed you three different ways just now!"
 
Isolde grunted and clasped her middle with the kick. Bending over, she concentrated on breathing as his insults assulted her ears.

Lifting her head up, she glared at him and slowly stood, tall and proud.

"You assume much, little man," She said as she took a fighting stance once again,"But I do not give up that easily. I am barbarian born and bred. We are among the strongest people of the land and there is NO WAY you can take me down. Your blows have hit, true, but you have not won."

Standing before him, she suddenly flashes down with her sword and buries it in the ground. Turning, she begins to strip her outer clothing. Underneath her dressing of civilization is her barbarian outfit which she always wore close to her to remind her of whom she was.

Consisting of a 'bra' of brown leather that formed tightly to her chest and held her abundant breasts up and tight in order to prevent them from interfering in the battle and a short skirt and knee boots of the same material.

Reaching in her bags, she produces a lightweight chain mail that fits over her shoulders and protects her exposed stomache. Ready once again, she approaches Kitsuke and smiles a hard smile.

"Once again, my future husband," She said, the sarcasm dripping from her words as she withdraws her sword and resumes her stance.

Now, unencumbered by her skirts, she was able to move better and more swiftly. Using this to her advantage, she swung her sword not at him but at his weapon in a distraction move while lifting her foot to kick directly into his groin area.
 
Kitsuke

Kitsuke fell directly backward, his katana flashing out to block her feint just in case. On his back he launched both feet straight up into her extending leg, just above the knee on the leg. He performed a kickstand as she was launched back a couple of feet and regained his stance.

"You were saying?"

After a moment he said, "Your technique was better though, I suppose I have to praise you for learning."
 
Isolde sat breathing on the ground for a moment before she got slowly to her feet.

"Learning? And what do you think you can teach me about fighting? How to dance around and avoid hits instead of going at your target and striking and taking strikes? Battle is supposed to be glorious and enjoyed to the fullest...not danced around and avoided. This is not getting us anywhere. My sword is thirsty for blood."

Moving quickly, Isolde runs, not toward Kitsuke but toward the side of one of the peaks. Slamming her sword into the ground, she used it to launch herself at a gathering of three large rocks placed just right to roll in Kitsuke's direction if she kicked out the cornerstone.

With a grunt of satisfaction, she felt her foot contact the smaller stone that would start the whole thing rolling and she swiftly moved aside, avoiding them as she knelt by her sword, drew it and used the flat of it to catch Kitsuke behind the leg as he tried to avoid the rolling stones.
 
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Kitsuke

Ahh, what a warrior she was... she had actually caught him off guard! As he fell back across the flat of her blade the rubble began to pile around him, the debris was of no consequence. The two foot thick rock about to land on his face was a bit more of a concern.

Letting go of his sword he focused on the rock. Suddenly his face twisted into a mask of black rage, thrusting his fist straight up at the rock he opened his mouth.

"KIAI!!" his fist met the rock and they were rocked by an explosion as the rock split apart into millions of tiny fragments, showering the both of them with dust.

As the last echoes of the collision and his cry echoed out down the canyon he regained his sword and his footing. Standing again in front of the line he looked dead at Isolde again.

"Thus is the power when you direct your rage where it is needed, my future wife." All trace of anger and malice were gone from his face as if they had never existed. "I think I should end this soon, just to let you know. I will give you two more chances to overcome me."
 
Isolde's smile of triumph was replaced by a wide eyed stare as she watched this small man smash a boulder. She had watche Thorr many times pick up large rocks and heave them in a barbarian game where you tried to outdistance other players but this man was not near the size of her brother and he had smashed it with one fist.

Coughing and choking as the dust settled, something came over her...a respect for his poweress perhaps? A thought that he might even be worthy of this fight? A feeling she may have been wrong in her judgement? Maybe. But he still had to prove his claim on her future.

"Oh, so you are simply playing then?," She said, the smile on her face one of being lost in a battle with a well matched opponent,"Giving me two chances are you? I'll take them. Plan on what you want on your headstone. You can tell me with your dying breath."

Dropping to the ground, she did a roll forward, kicking out with both feet as she came out of the roll, her leather boots headed for his kneecaps as her sword cut up and toward his stomach.
 
Kitsuke

Isolde rolled toward him, sword out and feet thrusting low. There was no block against this maneuver, no clever turn of the blade would divert her mass. So he waited until the moent just before her feet broke his knees into bloody masses that would never heal properly. Then he flipped gracefully over her, with a half twist so he was facing her the whole time. She felt his blade whistle close to her head, although he apparently missed.

Behind her he waited for her to stand again, idly toying with the lock of hair he had cut off and plucked from the air while flipping over her.

"Bold skill, but still you are nearly my wife." was his only statement.
 
Isolde was breathing hard as she stood up and she shook her head, unable to say anything at the moment.

"No," She said, her face set and determined,"How can a battle that draws no blood be lost? It does not make sense. You fight as if the devil himself has possessed you and yet your weapons do not taste of flesh."

Standing up again to face him, she shook her head once more. "No," She repeated,"This is trickery of some kind. No one can move like that and be human. And I book no deals with the devil."

A strange smile sprang to her lips as she pointed with her sword where he stood.

"Besides, you are not blocking my path anymore. You have placed yourself on the opposite side of the line. An interesting battle but one you have lost, nonetheless."

With a salute of her sword against her forehead, she turned and headed toward the line he had drawn at the beginning of the battle at a very good clip.
 
Kitsuke

Speed, pure speed was needed now. Kitsuke sprang toward the line with a grimace. Isolde was rapidly nearing it, yet if she crossed he would lose her forever. He could not do that, what a family they would have!

Using a technique the scouts of his clan had perfected in their forays into the blasted lands of the dark lord he focused all his chi towards Isolde. Not so much slowing her down as accelerating himself to intercept her he fairly flew over the ground. His toes digging small tufts in the dirt but otherwise no sign of his passing. Six steps and she would be there. Throwing himself sideways he collided into the back of her knees, rolling into them to prevent her from struggling forward. Locking his legs around one he jerked backward and stopped their progress, one of her lithe thighs between both of his, held in a vise-like grip. The other trapped beneath herself as he arched her there. His left hand pinned her sword arm to the ground, not imobilizing it, but certainly would take a momentof struggling for her to free it. In his right hand he held his gleaming katana straight out, the last six inches laying across her throat.

"You fight well, barbarian princess. I have not seen many to match your prowess or fury. Marry me, and the children we have shall grow strog and true. Our family shall be a mighty one. Your spirit has made me captive, much as I must do to your body now. What say you?"
 
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