Phoenix snatched the prayer strip out of the air and tucked it inside one of her sleeves, then snorted derisively.
"You're nothing but a fool grasping at straws. I don't entertain myself with petty vengeance, but I suggest you stay clear until you can offer me information that I can't find with ease, and actually have a use for. Don't enter my presence until then, Bakir. And don't mention the Spear God again. It may go ill for you."
She calmly turned around again and began tidying up the scrolls on the table. Now that her cover had been compromised, it would be dangerous for her to stay. She would spend the night, and leave in the morning, on the road to Sinopochtli. Somewhere, there was something she had missed. Some crucial answer.
She would find it.
The Chosen of Jupiter casually brushed past Bakir, stepping out into the dusk air of Fort White. Damnable meddling fool. Killing him would be a blessing to Creation. Not worth getting involved with the locals, however. I may wish to return here.
She remained lost in thought as she walked towards the tea house, her small form almost unnoticable thanks to her dark clothes and the protection of the Mask. Her concentration was abruptly shattered as she walked into Crane, and she took a startled step backwards. "Maidens! I'm so terribly sorry, sir."
Her voice had fallen back into the quiet whisper of Shadowed Orchid, but it still held a faint tinge of nervousness. Fate seemed to coalesce around this man, in a way that she had seen only a few times before. What is in this city that draws such people?
The tavern was loud, full of boasts from the many men within who wished to exalt themselves in the eyes of its dark-eyed women, but none seemed so impressive as that of Spear God Li. He was rapt with wine in a way he had not experienced since he was a man. In a way, the diminishment of his power was a sort of liberation, a visit to his past when life was simple.
After he had ordered another pot of wine, another man plunked himself down at the table. Something about him was familiar. His posture was slumped, his body swaying and he smiled strangely and pointed a finger at Li.
"I know you, warrior."
Li paused for a moment, scrutinizing the man carefully before the recognition hit his drunken mind.
"Iron Fist! How long has it been?"
"A year, I believe. And I'm not going by that name any more after you humbled me. Now, they call me Drunken Tiger Li."
"A fine name. I've changed mine as well. It's inconvenient having such a common name."
"What do they call you now?"
"Iron Ox Li," he said, pouring a generous cup for his old acquaintance. "Much has happened in a year."
"I heard you were a monk for a time. In fact, I heard it from across the room."
"It's true! I was terrible at it to be honest. Men like you and I, there's one thing we're made to be."
"Well spoken."
They downed their liquor together. Li waved the women away from the table and leaned into speak to Drunken Tiger.
"I've got an idea. Let's put on a show."
"Eh?"
"We're both performers. I think everyone would like to see a fight, especially if they remember our fight a year back. What do you say we give them something entertaining, talk it up like a challenge match, and split the take?"
Drunken Tiger paused.
"I'm better than I was, Iron Ox. But I suppose you're better, too. Might not be much of a show."
"Oh, come on. We both know how to make it look better than it is. I'll beat you, surely, but we'll make it a good long fight so lots of bets go around."
"When you put it that way," said Drunken Tiger, nearly falling out of his chair as he leaned back, "I'm in."
Li called over the innkeeper.
"You want more wine? I've yet to see a coin from you!"
"I'll do better than that. What do you say we clear out the tables and my friend Drunken Tiger and I have a rematch in your inn."
"Oh!" exclaimed the innkeeper, "It's you two! The ones who challenged one another for their name! You're Iron Fist Li, yes?"
"The same. Winner of us takes half the house take... I'm sure you'll get plenty of bets."
"Oh yes, Mister Li... I'm honored to host such a fight."
"Excellent."
Li downed his wine, and the Inkeeper began shooing people away from his chairs and claimed the center of the floor, shouting loudly.
"Ladies and Gentlemen! Today, we have among us two great Wushu champions, who shall fight a rematch from the contest known so well from last year! You are our priveliged audience!"
The two Li's took up opposite sides of the floor as the announcer began to make the introductions to the crowd.
"In this corner, a man without fear with the strength of five men, Champion of Streets and Battlefields... IRON FIST LI!"
There was a roar of recognition from the crowd.
"And here to challenge him once again... the feared and merciless, the claws of vengeance, who fights to regain his name, a man who needs no introduction... DRUNKEN TIGER LI!"
The roar raised to a fervor, and patrons began digging coins from their sleeves.
"The fight shall be divided into rounds, and shall last until one remains standing to gain the title of Iron Fist once and for all! Bets will be placed each round! Are you ready for this historic event?"
The inn shouted with cheers as patrons pushed to get closer to the fighting floor and jockey for prime positions at the rails on the upper floors.
"Without further ado... I present you a match of raw skill and cunning that shall be remembered for years to come! Warriors... FIGHT!"
Bets were placed fervently at two to one odds in favor of Spear God Li. He and Drunken Tiger smiled at one another knowingly. Tonight, fortune and glory would belong to defender and challenger alike. At the back of his mind, Li hoped that it would not take Crane too long to catch the shouts on the street of the match.
The circle was drawn. Rounds were fine enough when one intended to injure his opponent, but the two fighters knew better... a 'ring-out' was an instant fight-ender under the rules of Lei Tai, and they carefully made themselves aware of the circle that had been made around them by the crowd and the furniture.
Drunken Tiger of course made the first move, and Li noted how the man's skill had improved. He had adopted palm strikes and tiger claws. Li could take a hit... and made sure to take only those he could take. Drunken Tiger had indulged a bit more than necessary to maintain his image.
The crowd loved Li repelling hits like a statue, and roared in happiness. They smiled at one another and began wrestling a bit. They got their heads close enough to talk.
"Sacrifice throw," said Li.
Drunken Tiger swayed backward, and took Li with him. Li sold it well, and threw in some embellishment to propel himself farther than his partner could have thrown him, landing solidly on his feet. The type of throw put Drunken Tiger on his back, and he rolled with relaxation to his swaying feet.
The turnabout made even more money change hands. Li got to his feet... it was easier to fake pain when you had an injury, and the way he stretched and bared his teeth looked more than genuine.
Squaring off, Drunken Tiger gave Li a couple of quick 'tells'. As he advanced, he showed Li two vulnerabilities. Hip, then centerline solar plexus. Risky, but possible.
Drunken Tiger dove in with his claws blazing, and Li stopped him with a kick to his exposed hip. As he staggered, Li hit him with a flat palm that he made into a fist quickly enough to look like a punch. The stunning blow to the nerve cluster crumpled Drunken Tiger... though not nearly as much as it should have. He was only stunned for a moment as he hit the floor and rolled away.
It was not long before the counterattack, and the speed with which he rose brought more joy from the crowd. They traded blows, none too strong to hurt, but sold with body language and intent. They came to grips to change words between headbutts.
"Do you want the name Iron Fist back?"
"No."
"It's going to hurt."
"Do it."
Li broke the stance of his opponent and scooped him up. He held Drunken Tiger above his head and roared, circling as if to show the crowd, but actually looking for the best place to throw him... which happened to be straight into a table full of gamblers eating noodles. All three broke Drunken Tiger's fall. He was outside the circle: defeated, and rose to his feet in defiance to maintain his image before putting his hands together for Li.
The innkeeper walked up to Li and raised his arm into the air.
"Good people of Fort White... we have a winner who has once again earned his face and name as the true Iron... Fist... Li!"
Posts
"You're nothing but a fool grasping at straws. I don't entertain myself with petty vengeance, but I suggest you stay clear until you can offer me information that I can't find with ease, and actually have a use for. Don't enter my presence until then, Bakir. And don't mention the Spear God again. It may go ill for you."
She calmly turned around again and began tidying up the scrolls on the table. Now that her cover had been compromised, it would be dangerous for her to stay. She would spend the night, and leave in the morning, on the road to Sinopochtli. Somewhere, there was something she had missed. Some crucial answer.
She would find it.
The Chosen of Jupiter casually brushed past Bakir, stepping out into the dusk air of Fort White. Damnable meddling fool. Killing him would be a blessing to Creation. Not worth getting involved with the locals, however. I may wish to return here.
She remained lost in thought as she walked towards the tea house, her small form almost unnoticable thanks to her dark clothes and the protection of the Mask. Her concentration was abruptly shattered as she walked into Crane, and she took a startled step backwards. "Maidens! I'm so terribly sorry, sir."
Her voice had fallen back into the quiet whisper of Shadowed Orchid, but it still held a faint tinge of nervousness. Fate seemed to coalesce around this man, in a way that she had seen only a few times before.
What is in this city that draws such people?
After he had ordered another pot of wine, another man plunked himself down at the table. Something about him was familiar. His posture was slumped, his body swaying and he smiled strangely and pointed a finger at Li.
"Eh?"
"We're both performers. I think everyone would like to see a fight, especially if they remember our fight a year back. What do you say we give them something entertaining, talk it up like a challenge match, and split the take?"
"Oh, come on. We both know how to make it look better than it is. I'll beat you, surely, but we'll make it a good long fight so lots of bets go around."
"When you put it that way," said Drunken Tiger, nearly falling out of his chair as he leaned back, "I'm in."
"I'll do better than that. What do you say we clear out the tables and my friend Drunken Tiger and I have a rematch in your inn."
"Oh!" exclaimed the innkeeper, "It's you two! The ones who challenged one another for their name! You're Iron Fist Li, yes?"
"The same. Winner of us takes half the house take... I'm sure you'll get plenty of bets."
"Oh yes, Mister Li... I'm honored to host such a fight."
"Excellent."
Drunken Tiger of course made the first move, and Li noted how the man's skill had improved. He had adopted palm strikes and tiger claws. Li could take a hit... and made sure to take only those he could take. Drunken Tiger had indulged a bit more than necessary to maintain his image.
The crowd loved Li repelling hits like a statue, and roared in happiness. They smiled at one another and began wrestling a bit. They got their heads close enough to talk.
"Sacrifice throw," said Li.
Drunken Tiger swayed backward, and took Li with him. Li sold it well, and threw in some embellishment to propel himself farther than his partner could have thrown him, landing solidly on his feet. The type of throw put Drunken Tiger on his back, and he rolled with relaxation to his swaying feet.
The turnabout made even more money change hands. Li got to his feet... it was easier to fake pain when you had an injury, and the way he stretched and bared his teeth looked more than genuine.
Squaring off, Drunken Tiger gave Li a couple of quick 'tells'. As he advanced, he showed Li two vulnerabilities. Hip, then centerline solar plexus. Risky, but possible.
Drunken Tiger dove in with his claws blazing, and Li stopped him with a kick to his exposed hip. As he staggered, Li hit him with a flat palm that he made into a fist quickly enough to look like a punch. The stunning blow to the nerve cluster crumpled Drunken Tiger... though not nearly as much as it should have. He was only stunned for a moment as he hit the floor and rolled away.
It was not long before the counterattack, and the speed with which he rose brought more joy from the crowd. They traded blows, none too strong to hurt, but sold with body language and intent. They came to grips to change words between headbutts.
"Do you want the name Iron Fist back?"
"No."
"It's going to hurt."
"Do it."
Li broke the stance of his opponent and scooped him up. He held Drunken Tiger above his head and roared, circling as if to show the crowd, but actually looking for the best place to throw him... which happened to be straight into a table full of gamblers eating noodles. All three broke Drunken Tiger's fall. He was outside the circle: defeated, and rose to his feet in defiance to maintain his image before putting his hands together for Li.
The innkeeper walked up to Li and raised his arm into the air.
"Good people of Fort White... we have a winner who has once again earned his face and name as the true Iron... Fist... Li!"