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[warchiseled]

the last prince.

K

remnos, the mist-shrouded city of chaos and war! Its royal lineage is tainted with patricide, and its god bears the name of calamity. The undying Mydeimos, the lion apart from the rest. Chrysos Heir who seeks the Coreflame of Strife, must suffer a thousand deaths, be bathed in blood on the path home, and bear the madness of fate alone. — Kingslayer be king, godslayer be god. Iron-hooves pound across the wilderness for the campaign, and must eventually soak in the blood of their homeland.

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5/8, Late afternoon!

[dawnforged]

[Phainon said ten and then Mydei said five, so guess who is waiting by the river in two minutes! No he didn’t run over here, he just walks fast, okay?

Anyway he’s not shirtless, but he did leave his coat behind in his inn room, so he’s down to just the tight black undershirt he usually has beneath it, his pants, and his boots. Which is! Half-naked for him, really.]

[warchiseled]

[Mydei arrived exactly 30 seconds after Phainon does. He looked a little peeved by the revelation that Phainon beat him here anyway, but he won't verbally say so.

Unless Phainon brings it up.]

I still see a shirt, Deliverer.

[dawnforged]

[It’s the little victories, really. This one has been logged and recorded.]

I said I’d strip down to half! I had my usual outfit on at the time, so technically speaking this is the equivalent for me.

[He will wait exactly three seconds, and if it becomes clear that Mydei isn’t going to budge, he sighs and grabs the neck of his shirt to tug it off and over his head. There. Fine.]

[warchiseled]

There we go. You can listen.

[He's smirking. This is a victory for him.]

Do you wish for me to remove my armor so we can be on equal footing, Deliverer?

[dawnforged]

[There’s a very clear moment where his brain stops, restarts, then stops again before he’s able to gather himself. His eyes narrow, and he folds his arms across his chest.]

Ideally, yes. However, if you don’t think you can manage without them, you can go ahead and leave the gauntlets on.

[warchiseled]

Hah!

[Mydei barks out a laugh, narrowing his eyes at Phainon. That curl of his lips remained though.

Without another word, he began to unfasten the straps to his gauntlets and removing them one at a time. He set them aside by Phainon's shirt, then took a seat to do the same with his greaves.

He also took off his pauldron, and removed the sleeve he wore, tucking it into the waistband of his belt so his entire top half was now bare.]

There. Satisfied?

[dawnforged]

Don’t know if that’s the word I’d use, but I’m ready whenever you are.

[There’s one of those tight smiles on his face instead of the usual bright, sunshiny kinds. He rolls his shoulders, bounces a few times, and promptly steps back into the shallows.]

C’mon. It was my challenge this time around, so you can have first hit.

[And up his hands come into a boxer’s guard. Boy you sure are about to take on a literal war god as just a guy aren’t you—]

[warchiseled]

How generous of you, Deliverer.

[Mydei rolled his shoulders, almost mimicking Phainon. He bounced on his feet, slowly spreading them to center his balance and raised his arms to reload them like Henry Cavill.

Mydei has always been quick on his feet, so the moment he lunged towards Phainon his foot created a small crater where he stepped. He didn't hold back, no that he ever has when it comes to Phainon, and swung right for the man's face.]

[dawnforged]

[There’s just enough time for him to internally go, “oh that’s a bit faster than I remember!” Before it’s too late to do much about that first punch. He tucks his chin, clenches his teeth, and takes the blow directly to the forehead rather than the nose or jaw.

The starburst behind his eyes that briefly blinds him is a very powerful reminder as to why he doesn’t usually do hand-to-hand combat with Mydei of all people. Still, he uses the closeness to his advantage, twisting with the hit to aim a blow of his own to the ribs.]

[warchiseled]

[The thrill in Mydei's expression was hard to conceal, especially as he quickly blocked Phainon's strike with his arm. The blow sent a vibration up his arm that his gauntlets would have usually absorbed.

Not that it slowed Mydei down.

He raised his leg with the same momentum, seeking to drive his knee into Phainon's side.]

[dawnforged]

[So, full disclosure! He came into this fight a little grumpy, and the adrenaline that’s already kicking up in his veins is enough to channel said ill temper into something productive. Which is good!

And he also takes a knee straight to the side in the process. It drives the air out of him in a rushed, wheezing laugh. Phainon moves to lock his elbow under Mydei’s leg, the other hand flying up to try and grab him around the throat. The intent here is to lift him over the shoulder and drive him down into the silt.]

[warchiseled]

[The moment Phainon's hand came around this throat, Mydei's breath hitched. He lost his balance, his arm instantly going out to grab Phainon's bicep. Phainon lifted him up, and within the second that he was airborne, and just before he hit the ground, Mydei let Phainon take his whole weight as he locked his free leg around the man's hip to bring him down as well.

Mydei twisted himself, hoping to either have Phainon impact the ground first or at least have them both be a tangled mess of limbs.]

[dawnforged]

[There’s the briefest moment of a victory chime that goes off in his head before his back slams down into the rocks underfoot with a cannonball splash of river water. Pain rockets up his spine, rattling his teeth in his skull and forcing the rest of his air out of his lungs with a choking wheeze.

Briefly he holds up a finger, trying to gasp in a breath that refuses to cooperate. One moment please.]

[warchiseled]

[The impact was rough, even for Mydei. He gritted his teeth, adjusting himself on top of Phainon and releasing his hold on him. He settled on Phainon's hips, removing his legs out from under Phainon so they weren't being crushed.]

Don't tell me — [Mydei clears his throat for a moment.] — don't tell that's all you got, Deliverer.

[dawnforged]

N-no— [wheeze.] Not at all!

[And he reaches down to grip Mydei by the hips to toss him off and onto the riverbank beside him. Begone.]

We haven’t— hah. Sparred since you completed your trial. I just need a second—

[warchiseled]

[Mydei rolled off of him willingly, actually.

He landed on his back beside Phainon, the cold water doing wonders to his heated skin.]

Should I go easier on you?

[Mydei will lay here with him in solidarity.]

[dawnforged]

If I ever ask you to do that, you might as well just put me out of my misery then and there.

[Pride aside, they’re supposed to be equals, right? If he can’t keep up with Mydei, then how can he be counted on for anything?]

Probably a good thing you took the gauntlets off, though.

[…]

Sorry. If it seemed like I was mad at you earlier. I mean, I was, but—

[warchiseled]

[This was going to come up at some point, better now than stewing in it for ages.

Mydei opened his eyes to stare up at the canopy, the hum of adrenaline fading from his veins now that they were no longer actively sparring.

For now.]

Your concern for me is appreciated.

[dawnforged]

[There’s a lot more he’d really like to say right now, but Phainon instead takes the opportunity to shut up. If he deflates at all, it’s barely noticeable.

A deep breath later, and he’s pushing himself up to his feet. He reaches up to shake the water from his hair, rolls his shoulders, and holds a hand out to help Mydei up to his feet.]

You can have that round, then.

[When he does finally break his silence, he just sounds… Tired.]

I’m alright to keep going. Ready?

[warchiseled]

[Mydei takes Phainon's hand, getting back up to his feet. He doesn't release it, though, and instead tightens his grip on him.]

Speak your mind, Deliverer.

[They are standing way too close, mostly because Mydei isn't releasing Phainon and just holding onto him like a leash to prevent him from escaping.]

[dawnforged]

[Man can’t you just let him retreat and bottle things up again it’s better that way.

He huffs out a heavy exhale, shaking his head and fixing Mydei with a wavering smile.]

It’s nothing, really. Promise.

[Give him his hand back he’s tugging.]

C’mon, seriously. I want to redeem myself, get at least a few good hits in?

[warchiseled]

[He's quiet for a moment, staring at Phainon with an expression that is unreadable unless you know him as well as Phainon probably does.

Be tightens his grip for a moment before he releases him and takes a step back.

He should probably say something.

Whatever it is that's bothering you, I am here to listen.

It will be okay, Phainon.]

Take your best shot, Deliverer.

[Mydei turns his back towards Phainon, his shoulders tense as he walks away from him. He turns once he's a good distance away, raising his first and holding one out in a Come here motion.]

[dawnforged]

[Damnit, he’s gone and spoiled it again, hasn’t he?

Frustration blooms anew, and the line of his jaw is sharp as he sets it. He waits until Mydei gives the go ahead, that feeling broiling deep in his gut until it simmers to something closer to rage.

It makes no sense. There’s no reason he should be this mad at Mydei right now, especially after being the one to extend the olive branch in the first place? Yet when he swings his fist again to try and clock Mydei square in the face, all the former levity has given way to a sort of smoldering intensity.]

[warchiseled]

[Whatever was wrong with Phainon was obviously something that Mydei had made worse. It couldn't just be the truth behind the crystals, there had to be something else underlining the whole thing.

But Phainon has very rarely confided in him.

Mydei didn't bother to block this attack, and instead taking the full hit to the side of his face. Golden blood filled his mouth, spilling past his lips as he moves with the momentum of the punch.

He dropped to the floor, aiming a kick to Phainon's legs to knock him over again.]

[dawnforged]

[This time he’s able to see the kick coming, and Phainon takes a quick step backward to get out of range.]

Quit it with the kicking.

[A sidestep this time, and then he’s reaching out to grab at the back of Mydei’s neck to try and roughly hoist him back up onto his feet like a scruffed cat.]

[warchiseled]

I didn't realize you had put such rules in place.

[When he grinned, it kinda looked slightly demented, with all the blood coating his teeth. Its fine dwbi.

Mydei was too busy trash talking to move much, though, and suddenly he's being yanked up like long cat and he looks like

?????]

[dawnforged]

I didn’t. I’m doing it now, though.

[Mydei is released. No longer a scruffed Mydei. Phainon gives him a moment to recover from the shock and then he’s throwing another punch. Another body shot this time, because he does feel a bit bad going for the face]

[warchiseled]

[A message pops up over Mydei's head that just says

Mydeimos will remember this.]

HKS. You can't put rules in place after the match has started.

[Mydei is quick on his feet, and unlike last time, he didn't take the hit. He quickly deflected Phainon's blow, countering with his own to Phainon's chest.]