Pact of Martial Competition

[ColonelKuehl1 483]

 

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A group of five, the shaman Netseth Loa’chil, his two cousins Naith and Raith the Bard Ayda, and the prospective shaman Andromeda Delevoye.

 

The gathering plummeted harshly into Leyds realm beneath them; the great plains the shaman recognized during his meeting with Sigurzurz and an imposing mountain of fire and treachery before him. Before them, a great path toward an unreachable pinnacle, an ash like sky, and a trail of burning ash. 

 

Planting their foot onto the terrain, they felt a slight burn as they ascended the harsh terrain, the air heavy as when they followed the trail; the first thing the gathering was allured to was a humbly sized temple overlooking the inferno.

Along the way, the travelers were soon met with a collection of weary warriors, each wearing a mask and rag like guard their first instinct was to attack. The first mask charging Netseth would a tackle that would lead to a one sided bout of wrestling. Andromeda was then met by a charging fighter who was swiftly disposed of after meeting her foot in a roundhouse kick. The Young Bard was knocked into the ground only to trip the mask into the earth, allowing Andromeda to throw another decisive kick into the mask, knocking them across the terrain like a ball. The twins Raith and Naith were, however, locked in a 2v2. Naith landed a well placed punch winding one of the warriors before the other was kicked away by Raith; the twin's teamwork led to them both tackling the last mask leaving the party triumphant

 

Their passage granted through the right to strength ascending toward the top of the peak toward the temple on the hill. The trail of ash grew thicker and thicker until finally face to face with the massive door. Momentarily hesitant of further attack, a darkly lit room was behind the door. Slowly upon marching on the hot ash, the group was met with two imposing sights. A blackened shrine with a heart of fire signifying the imposing figure of Leyd with great ashen horns and a blazing figure standing above those who entered. Beneath a singular figure in black garb, stone flesh, and a disciplined stride complimenting his muscular figure. The temple keeper stood up, approached the gathering, and looked prepared for a battle. 

 

Detecting the hesitation of the party, the spirit appears to be of the nature of some form of martial arts, perhaps embodying such halted himself. He asked if the gathering was there to fight yet was met with a question his name Afkrul! Afkrul explained his nature; his nature was something lost to the Mali’ker. An ancient competition that acted as a prayer to the spirit of strength and domination. The battle would always be conducted under a shrine of Leyd, begging with a silent prayer conducted through specific motions and rules of the competition. Nyotelbo meaning two throw, was a contest of skill, where two fighters stood upon ash in white uniforms in brief, intense exchanges of pure grappling ending in a throw. One fighter's back sent hurdling into the ash and another standing triumphant, the way of Leyd in its simplest form. 

 

Nyotelbo had its era in ancient time, the spirit only living off the remnants who still practiced the tradition. Hip throws, shoulder throws, leg sweeps there was no doubt to the value of the skills taught to the Maehr. Their white uniforms tarnished in the fiery ash as a mark of knowing defeat or victory. As the various Maehr now declared Afkruls students practiced against each other, his demand was simply to return this ancient tradition to the mortal realm; the prayer of warriors smacking their backs into warm ash would be cherished once more.

 

And with that, the pact was made, and may the first battle be grand.

 

 

Edited July 6, 2023 by ColonelKuehl1

[Mannamannaa 1626]

Kor'garr hears of rumors about new Ker fist klomping techniques, brow raised in surprise. Crimson eyes gaze into the distance as he ponders on the mysterious fighting style, and the whispers of a spirit who supplied such terribly effective knowledge of combat.

"Hmmm... Wuld diz Nyotelboh beet Hunzha ztyul uv dah Gorkil clan? Wiz muzt tezt diz en Arena." The Skriptgoth picks up his Compendium, searching for more information to include about this lesser spirit.