#daelinia

A brief interlude from Shandriz’s story while I try to write the next section I don’t have done rather than skipping to a later section I do. XD Have a Daelinia. 

~~Your Love Could Start a War~~

She swung her axe- her newest toy and she hadn't had much of a chance to play with it yet- expertly. Arms stretched wide so the sun glinted off of sleek bronze skin pulled taught over muscle. She liked people to know what they were getting into when they picked a fight with her- all cards on the table. If she covered up, they might think her an easy target- tall and slim as she was with the soft curve to her ears that brought to mind elegance and poise. Neither of those words applied to Daelinia, however, though the swing of the blade had its own sort of grace and her movements themselves were smooth from hours upon hours of use.

Her opponent was wearing approximately 4000 lbs of plate mail, and while to some that might appear an advantage against her bare arms and abdomen, they'd be wrong. She had been with Kydian long enough now she knew how to find the joints and seams to slip between. Knew just how much pressure it'd take from her axe before the metal itself split. And the way this guy swung his sword spoke less of experience and more of false bravado. Oh, she was going to have -fun-.

She let him make the first move, his sword striking against her forearm. And perhaps in someone less trained than she it would have been quite the blow. As it was, her muscle shifted to slide it almost harmlessly along the surface of her skin, leaving a small, thin line of blood behind.

She stuck out her bottom lip, “Ouch!” she protested playfully, then shifted to a wicked grin as she lifted her forearm to her lips and slid her tongue along the scratch, feeling the metallic taste of her own blood permeate her mouth as her eyes slid to a platinum silver that matched the glow of the Dragon shaped tattoo on her back, “My turn.”

Her first hit was a test- she hadn't gotten a good enough look at the armor up close to know how thin it was and she wasn't looking to remove any of the poor guy’s limbs. He hadn't exactly made the fight personal by nicking her arm and she saved the real savagery for those who deserved it. Still, it was a clean cut to the shoulder blade and she could see the guy wince as she dented the plate and likely left a nasty bruise. Then the fight began for real. His first real strike was predictable- an attempt to swipe from her stomach up to her breasts. They nearly always tried this move and she liked to think it was because they wanted -some- part of them to touch her breasts. She didn’t blame them, she was pretty damn hot. More likely they perceived weakness in the lack of armor on such sensitive areas and went in for the kill.

His mistake- she was so used to this move that she'd turned it into a tactic of her own and as his blade skidded almost harmlessly along her abdominal muscles she leaned backwards, swinging her axe down on the top of his head as he leaned in to reach her.

It wasn't enough to split the helmet, or even to really disorient him, but it was enough to get him to back off so she could get a little breathing room. Axes weren't the best in close quarters- they needed a good swing to get the kind of speed and strength they needed to do the maximum amount of damage.

She swung again and he was ready for her this time, his sword slipping across her brow. The cut was deep enough to have blood mingling with the sweat now forming on her forehead in the heat of the day. Her grin widened as she swiped at it with one hand while blocking his next blow with the clang of metal on metal.

After that, she sank more into the ebb and flow of the fight. The cheering of the crowd faded against the background of the hot rage surging through her blood, and while the blood slipping into her eyes put her at less of an advantage, she managed to slip between the plates on his chest for a good strike at the ribs while he slashed across her back and sent her into another rage. Nobody cut her dragon and got away with it.

Her swings got a bit more reckless after that, and while she took more hits, hers struck harder and faster. The blood from his blow to her head had matted into her hair and sweat dripped down every inch of her body by the time she brought him down- one hefty blow after another until she heard Kydian shouting, “Daelinia, he's yielding!” and the rage cleared just enough that she could hear her opponent's voice, “Get off me, you psychotic bitch, I yield!”

The half-elf staggered to her feet, exhausted as the adrenaline drained away and her eyes returned to normal. She panted for breath, planting her axe on the ground and leaning against it for strength as she took stock of her wounds. It had been a good fight- any fight where she was bleeding from at least three different places but was still standing at the end was a good one- but she wasn't going to be taking on any other opponents today.

“Come on,” Her partner put a hand on her shoulder and she felt just a little of her energy return with his healing light, “Time for a drink.”

She nodded, slung her axe over her shoulder, and walked away with her companion as the arena medics tended to the man she'd beaten. She could ask Kyd to heal her, of course, and charge back in. But she preferred to fight on her own terms when it wasn't life or death.

“You need a bath, too,” he advised her, “You look like shit.”

Daelinia smirked, looping an arm through his as they made their way back to the inn, “Love you too, dear.”