Thread: Man Witch [Goody + Prince]

Hey! Lor barked aggressively as they watched her shove Kellar away after giving him a good knee in the face. Another trainee, lighter of skin but just as muscular as his Naroah friend, he was clearly from a lordship family, his hair honey brown and feathered lightly. What's your fucking problem? he sneered at her arrogantly. No women ever come down here. It was a simple mistake. You cunt!!! Kellar roared, his voice deep and graveled, his nose bleeding from the blow despite not being broken. He'd stumbled back into the other men when she let him go but now he'd regained his feet and his bearings enough to glare hotly at her, fires burning with determination in his gaze. Blood trailed a river of scarlet down his lips as he gave her a baleful look through the curtain of his golden hair, spitting to the side in denial of her claims to strength. How dare you. You think you're cut out to be a guardian? I'll take that challenge! And when I win, I'll bend you over that stone wall over there and take what you're really offering! Rushing at her now, Kellar put the full force of his strength behind his fist, only to be sent sprawling as she gave him a level look and darted out of the way. No longer willing to break his fall, the small crowd of trainees parted, barely watching him fall ass over tea kettle in the dusty yard. Not all of them knew each other nor agreed with Kellar, but several of them were willing to take up the challenge for themselves. One by one, they came at her, each man shocked as he was felled by her nimble grace and the power she packed in her robust fist. It was hidden beneath her flowy shirt, those hard packed muscles, but each man got a taste of it as she danced from foe to foe, grunts and exploding gasps flowing in her wake as each man found he'd bitten off more than he could chew. Occasionally, Kellar regained his feet, his rage blinding him to sense, so, he always announced himself with a roar, barreling at her when she was free of a current challenger...and each time, sent through the crowd to the dusty ground with a well-timed kick or simply grabbing his shirt and using his momentum against him to send him sprawling into the dirt. After all, he seemed to like it down there. It ended up with the men spread out, giving the woman a wide berth, a couple of them trying to catch their breath, while standing, hunched over and leaning, and several laying on the ground groaning and gasping in pain from various blows delivered by the spunky lady. Even Kellar seemed down for the count, too exhausted to make another charge and his rage wilted, leaning back on his elbows, sweating and panting in the dusty hard-packed earth. The only two who were left unharmed and who had yet to charge the short woman with a punch like a bloody wrecking ball, were Lor, the prissy Lord's son, and the dark haired man who'd originally offered up words of reason, calling the witch assumption into question. The dark haired man was shorter than some of the others, shorter than Quinn even, standing at 5'8. With shrewd eyes and built like an ox, he more than made up for the lack of inches he had on some of the others with the muscles that could be seen beneath his loose, tan shirt, deceptively looking like the loose training shirts some of the others had chosen to wear for their first day. A medium length of dark, earthy brown hair topped his head, bangs swept back from his face, his skin lightly tanned from being outdoors and his eyebrows heavy and arched, giving him a perpetual scowling glare. There were some bladed scars on his neck, chest, and arms, one in particular giving him a bit of character across thin, dour lips. And the way he held himself was with a certain level of awareness and smooth, threatening grace, so much so that he looked less like a trainee, especially now that there were no men around to blend into. Sweeping a penetrating look of appraisal over Deidarmia, the scarred man turned to look at Lor, raising an expectant eyebrow at him. Jerking his head at her, he smirked slightly and urged Lor, Go on. Your turn. Lor looked at Deidarmia and then at the cloud of pain around her, processing it in regards to the prospect of 'taking his turn.' Knowing when to quit while he was ahead, learning from the example of the others, Lor gave Deidarmia another look before shaking his head at the scarred man. Uhhh...I'm good. I'll just...wait for the trainers to get here. The scarred man huffed an amused laugh, waved a vague hand at the woman and shrugged loosely. She's just a girl, he said coaxingly. You could take her. Go on. Go for it. No. No, she's not, Lor said, shaking his head and curling his lip with another wary look at her. Smart man, the other said with a gentle nod, his expression neutral and respectful. Then he hauled off and sucker punched him, knocking Lor off his feet and out of consciousness. Next time you disobey me, I'll send you home, disgraced. It was a simple delivery, cool and confident without malice. Sniffing, he looked around at the men and woman who were still conscious and tucked his hands behind his back languidly. My name is Uther Dhoul. I'm the head trainer of the guardians. Normally, our first test for new trainees is a sparring match with me. It helps me observe as well as sort you with the right trainers on staff. But since you all wanted to be misogynistic clowns and give me a show-- he had a charming grin as it flashed briefly across his features, tonguing one of his canines with an amused chuckle. --I figured we'd just sort you that way instead. Walking with a casual grace over to where Kellar lounged on the ground, holding his ribs as he tried to sit up, Uther gave the blonde a hearty nudge on the calf with his boot and placidly offered, Go home. You're done. What?! Why? Just because she came down here and started kicking our asses?? Kellar huffed and snorted indignantly, his accent growing thicker with a heady twang as he grew more incensed. I'm here to be trained to fight! I shouldn't get kicked just because some whore bested me! Teach me to fight! I'll show you I can defeat some little bitch by the end of it! Uther's perpetual scowl deepened as he glowered darkly at the other man. You're being removed from the program because you don't seem to like women very much, he said in a deceptively cool tone. Which, in case you missed it, is the entire point of the guardians. Dismissing the blonde, Uther turned away from him, walking amidst the other men, looking them over, even sparing a look for Deidarmia. These women are the most powerful beings on our world. Make no mistake, they do not fucking need you. I repeat You are merely a tool in their arsenal. You are not necessary for these women to be complete. And some of you might not get chosen for some time. What you are here for is to train to serve, loyally, to the depths of your soul and to the end of your days, the one woman who desires to bond with you. To add you to her arsenal of weapons. It is as much a privilege and a blessing as it is a lifetime commitment and duty. Whereas she will hold strength over the ethereal realm, you will lend her your strength in the physical realm. You will offer her companionship, council, and your life, if need be. This is not a calling for men who'd use words like 'cunt' or 'bitch' freely. If you have not yet been divorced from such notions...don't worry. By the time we're done here, you will be. Coming to a stop in his casual circuit, a half dozen feet in front of Deidarmia, he gave her another interested smirk and sweeping look of appraisal. I'm tired of hearing myself talk, he said breezily. They didn't tire you, I hope. Good. Come at me with the best you've got. 'Kellar' me. ...if you can. A smart, crooked smirk touched his lips as his eyes lit with the fire of challenge, his stance imperceptibly changing to become more ready for her attack. Internally, he was ecstatic to have found a student so promising, ignoring completely the fact that she was a woman...albeit with a slight admiration of her muscular thighs and tight behind. He was a warm-blooded man, after all.