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Wandering Lion Sometimes you just can't escape some things that made you feel alive. That made you what you are. And that remind you of where you came from.

That is what has brought the Wandering Lion to the Arena of Great Forks. It is late in the afternoon, and the man is standing up in the audience area. No fights are happening today, or at least not yet, but the man is leaning on the edge of the railing. A peaceful smile on his face as he looks out at the arena itself. His head turns to look over the arena itself. His hands are clenched into fists as he seems to look at the stone carefully.

"Ah, nothing like an arena... battles to determine who is stronger, who can show their dominance over another... all for the enjoyment of the crowd. To hear that roar when a good fight is determined..." The man says out loud, talking to himself apparently as he seems to be reminiscing about the past as well as uncaring if there are spectators or not.

Mountain Thrower "I wuz right. You -are- crazy.."

The deep bass voice is undoubtly familiar to Wandering Lion. It'd be distinct under any circumstance but Lion has heard this man before and so would have advance warning as to who is speaking even as his body is enveloped in the growing shadow of the vast immensity that is Mountain Thrower as the colossus rises up behind him like some behemoth out of the sea.

"Talk t'yerself much, mm?" he rumbles while reaching up to peel off the jagged and well worn garments of his great coat, shrugging them off and then balling them up in his ooulder like hands. The clank of smashfists rattles around said huge hands as well. Locked into play and stertched by his limbs as he balls his jacket up completely and tosses it over into a corner.

"This where you be stayin'?" he asks of Wandering Lion. Apparently having no issues with just busting in on Lion's personal movement.

Misa Sometimes the fights are gimmicky, or spectacle, or some manner of filler or such. Today... perhaps not. Perhaps today there's something worth watching.

A woman walks out into the arena- she's fought before, by the announcements. Relatively new to the area. Keeps winning. Lookshyan-looking, if more solidly built, and wearing a long purple coat- showing off with the ostentatious colour for the crowd, maybe.

She faces three opponents, all trained fighters to an observer who knows what to look for. She herself wields a simple, but finely-made steel straight blade. She holds it well- a master swordsman, but perhaps not enough so to face off against a trio of trained soldiers on her own.

If they could get at her, anyways. She seems to slide between the swords and spears with ease, rarely lashing out, always maintaining a space on the outside of the set of her opponents to keep them in sight. Never once does her blade deflect- she simply seems to slip out of reach smoothly and carefully. Her strikes, when they come, are measured and patient, slowly putting the three on their back feet- until she finally takes the proper offensive, moving forward swiftly and cutting all three down in short order- all in non-lethal areas that should heal fine if kept clean. It's not a short affair, or especially full of twists and turns, but an impressive showing nonetheless.

The woman simply wipes down her sword with a cloth, clicks it into some sort of clip on her shoulder, and begins moving to exit the arena, businesslike and without much flair or any form of crowd-working.

Wandering Lion Lion looks up at Mountain, shrugging a bit. "Ah, but with the world as it is, perhaps being crazy is a good thing in this case?"

Then he hears a fight happening. He turns his head to watch. Eyeing the movements, eyeing the way the woman moves from where he is. "Hm... impressive. She wore them down with barely any movement, and finished the fight. Almost as if she was a dancer sent to entertain."

Wandering Lion looks back to Mountain Thrower. "I do not stay in one place overly long. I prefer the solitude of the forests rather than the comforts of the city these days. The cities... remind me too much of what I could have been had I not became what I am." He mentions, leaning on the edge of the railing as he shrugs.

"Am I the first to arrive of our merry band? I did find out some news of worth on my way here. About which is making the moves, but not the who as of yet." He questions the larger man.

Mountain Thrower The behemoth of a man watches Misa's fight with a critical eye ..or at least he tries. The nuances of such forms of battle are actually quite beyond him but he does show some interest.. so much so that he's distracted at first from Lion's response. A blink and Mountain Thrower is grinning while leaning forward and laying a massive hand onto the railings. He looks almost ready to leap into the arena but he pauses to consider Lion's question..and then a dark frown on his face occurs as the memory of that odd encounter resurfaces.

"Merry band? Hmm..far from that I think!" He turns, swiveling slighlty, looking down at Lion curiously, "Avoid cities you say? Hmm..I like them! Though that explains why you were so..er..buddy buddy with the barbarian girl. What news is it you found? Worth sharing? I am always good for some gossip before violence."

Misa It appears the arena fighting woman has the eyes to match her feet, as she spies the look as though Mountain wants to jump down to match her. Her left hand even begins straying back up to where the hilt of her simple sword shows over her shoulder- but she pauses when he turns back to the conversation.

Instead, she pauses at an exit from the arena near the pair, making a passable showing of going over her effects and ensuring she hasn't lost or ruffled anything overmuch in the fight as she listens further for any more signs of another fight in her immediate future.

Wandering Lion Lion shakes his head as he looks the woman below over carefully. "The House we were warned about is Cynis." He says.

"Unfortunately, that makes most of my information a lot harder. I rely on the words of the merchants to see if there is something amiss where I go. Because of Cynis's... well meaning for business, that will make this harder if we rely on simply what I can find." Lion explains, shrugging a bit.

"And as far as the barbarian girl, it was a passing meeting. I was curious about our kind and if there were tales her people might have had. I actually met her after she raided a village, at a guess. Surprisingly, her people do not eat meat at all. I think they eat some sort of tree bark and fruits." The black haired man looks amused, then hums. "... that was an odd fighter. I wonder what she feared losing?"

Mountain Thrower "Why was she raiding a village then? The resources available in the forests certainly outstrip anything a small hamlet can provide, especially if they on't eat meat." scoffs Mountain, sounding as if he's not buying the excuse.

But it seems he tends to have a wandering attention span as the next comment does grab him and he looks down towards where Misa is and then frowns mildly, "Mmm? What she feared losing? Why does fear have anything to do with it? She wanted to win in the arena. So she won. Simple. Right? You could ask her."

Tolon Tolon enters the arena, he's noisly eating an apple as he moves through the crowds to find a place near the front. He settles near Mountain throw and Wandering Lion. He leans against the railing, he frowns faintly. "I missed the fight already?"
Wandering Lion Lion gives a shrug, "Maybe we should if she comes up here? That seemed a bit... odd at least."

"As far as that barbarian girl, I am not sure what to make of her. She is obviously one of us, but well... the rest is questionable. Her goals, for example. I think they may have come from much farther East. Perhaps even the Wyld."

Then there is the sudden addition of... someone. Wandering Lion's gaze turns towards Tolon. Then Lion looks up at Mountain Thrower. "Friend of yours?"

Mountain Thrower The huge man is silent for a moment, pondering Lion's words and considering them before shrugging and drumming his fingers against the railing. "That's a long ways from home, yeah.. Strange.."

But then Tolon is just suddenly there and Mountain frowns and turns, swiveling his gargantuan body around and blinking a few times before looking back at Wandering Lion and slowly grinning, "Nope! Not quite, not quite. Rather bold though, aint he? You and I aint exactly ordinary lookers and thinkers..whot with me bein' big as a Yeddim' and you bein' you."

To Tolon, the huge man rumbles, "Y'missed the fight, boy. You gonna go start one?"

Tolon Tolon studies Mountain Thrower. "It's Tolon, not boy." He then shrugs a shoulder. "We'll have to see how the night goes, I usually only start fights with a reason. I always accept invitations though." He flashes a quick grin. "Be rude not to."
Wandering Lion A shake of Wandering Lion's head is given as he sighs, then he looks up at Mountain Thrower. "He is very bold. Us standing out so much is quite a sight. I would say he is a Dynast, but the outfit is all wrong in this case. Hm... bounty hunter, maybe? I imagine someone might have a price on your head, or mine. I do not think I made anyone mad at me recently..."

Considering, Wandering Lion shrugs before he looks up at Mountain Thrower. "I suppose he might have business to be so bold as to just waltz up and try to interrupt a conversation. Either that, or he is just really bad at eavesdropping. I am leaning towards the latter."

Mountain Thrower Tolon's boldness simply causes Mountain Thrower to grin. His eyes widen and he turns fully to face him, looking ready to speak again until Wandering Lion speaks up. Mountain Thrower then seems to reconsider his words and then finally shakes his head to Lion,

"No..no..nothing like that. Just young, dumb and stupid. Like most people. Eager for a fight. Maybe able to back it up. Or maybe not.. But no, no bounty hunter. He is here for the arena fights!" Mountain shakes his head and gestures over the arena, "But.. 'Tolon'... 'boy'..the fights are over. You missed the most interesting one and I think that was just practice at that. Do you want to be a Great Forks Gladiator? We're from out of town so just looking for entertainment but..I've thought about fighting.."

Tolon Tolon laughs. "I'm no bounty hunter, not a gladiator either." He looks at Wandering Lion. "You dismiss the possibility of me having simply asked a question. I had expected the fight to last longer." He shrugs. "If you've considered it, then I would suggest doing it. Better to try a thing than live in regret. I never took much pleasure in the arena. It's cold dispassionate violence, without reason." He then frowns. "But I interrupted, I will leave you to your conversation."
Mountain Thrower "A cold dispassioante violence?!"

Mountain Thrower lets out a loud roaring laugh at that before grinning, "You obviously don't know much about gladiator fights boy. Tolon. What makes you say that? Why the fights 'ere would probably try and beat you to the ground for saying that. A pit fighter? A gladiator? A Hundred Kingdoms Champion? Tth. You should explain yourself."

Wandering Lion Wandering Lion laughs along with Mountain Thrower. The grin on Lion's face is almost matching the larger man's. "Tolon, right?"

"Let me tell you something. There is /nothing/ like being down there. To those of us who have been in the arena, those who have bled others and who have bled in turn, the fights down there are not about killing each other. They are not about drawing the last breath from someone to killing them." There's a sheer passion to Wandering Lion. Something that, despite everything, is easy to see.

"When you are down there, face to face with one, two, or even ten opponents seeking your blood, with men in chariots, with wild beasts that seek your life. There is only one thing that matters." Wandering Lion continues, looking at Tolon.

"The crowd's roar. You play to them. You work them into the frenzy. And when your work is done? You go home knowing that you have accomplished something that few ever do. Those few call themselves brothers and salute every time they go into that arena. Both for the sake of prosperity and for the honor that is given to them. THAT is what makes those fights what they are. You see them put their skills to that test, to woo the crowd as if it were a lover and when you hear it, you hear it because they earned it. Because they can make the crowd listen to them. To worship them."

Wandering Lion scoffs. "Cold, dispassionate violence indeed." The man shakes his head. "Come back when you have been down there facing your death with the crowd roaring for you to win, sir, else you do not know the meaning of being a gladiator, a pit fighter, or a champion."

Tolon Tolon shrugs. "I fought a few in the past. Don't speak for other fighters, but for me, the arena never got my blood up." He shrugs. "It's about the money and the standing, I don't take pleasure in fighting for either reason." He smiles. "I fight when it helps those I'm beholden to, when it brings justice to those that need it, or to correct an insult. In the arena I fought men of talent and skills, I fought men who were nothing but rage and fury and everything between, but I never once felt anything but clinical in the fighting. Why should I have felt otherwise? I had no grievance against my opponent, no reason to want to harm them."

He turns his attention to Wandering Lion, his expression becoming thoughtful. "There in lies our difference I suspect. I never cared for the crowd. When I am facing my death there is only me and those I must defeat and when it is over... It is done, the crowd are background noise, if they cheer me or not, if they love me or not, what of it? I win or I lose on my merit."

Mountain Thrower The giant scoffs.

"It matters in this context. It matters because t'be in the ring or in the pit or in the arena is not just about you and your opponent but those around you and your standing in the martial arts world and fighting world. If it was just about fightin'..anyone could go pick a fight or get into a fight." Mountain Thrower grins, "And some do. But this thing we are speaking of is a little different. It is, as you said, a different world..."

Wandering Lion Wandering Lion shakes his head. "As enlightening as this arguement is, I suppose sometimes you just will find those who kill for the sake of killing, or kill because they have to. Those that train their skills to be skilled are a rare breed of people at times. I should go and see if I can find a place for my stay here. Perhaps my old family home is still about?" The man gives a small hum before he turns to begin making his way out of the arena.

He does pause to look up at Mountain Thrower. "I will be around if any of the others show up. We all do need to talk where prying ears will not bother us so much."

Mountain Thrower "Hmph." Mountain Thrower folds his arms. "Perhaps." He says. His tone is non committal but at the same time he can't help but glance back at Lion, "If I see them..I will tell them."
Tolon Shrugging Tolon looks at Mountain Thrower. "It is different among my people." He gives his words thought. "There are no arenas, no places we gather to fight, we do fight and often. It is understood that you will fight often. We evaluate each others standings in the deeds they have done. You defeat great opponents with the sword or spear, you ride well and shoot true, then you will be respected as a hunter and warrior. It need not be done in front of a crowd, it is enough that you fought and won, that you took down the game."