IABD 58: Stonebreaker vs. Stonebreaker vs. Stonebreaker

“Before you face ghouls,” Beggahasta’s voice rang out over the courtyard. “I’d like to get an idea of how you fight while circulating your energy. Facing ghouls without knowing that life energy circulation will not distract you would be foolhardy. Prove yourself today so you can fight the ghouls tonight.”

The warrior woman wore her red armour, standing tall like a crimson tower rising from the snow. She carried the air of an ancient war god presiding over a bloody trial by combat.

She gestured to her two other children. “We can also test your grit. Since we first arrived here, each of you has been training hard, and this could be the perfect opportunity to see how you fare just fighting each other. …Dagma, you will go first, followed by Bregindoure, then myself.”

“Wait, I’m supposed to fight Dagma?” Matthias looked puzzled.

Meanwhile, his younger sister pumped her fists, eyes fixed on her brother, looking self-assured. “I get to fight, you! Yes!”

“Are we sure this is a good idea, mother?” He moved his hands away from his weapons.

“Personally, I think it’s a very good idea!” Dagma grinned.

“You don’t count.”

“I count the most!”

“Mother, please!” Matthias turned to Beggahasta, pleadingly. “You can’t make me do this.”

“She’s made me do it more than once, now it’s your turn. My condolences, brother.” Bregindoure grimaced. “Our sister fights like a wolverine. A wolverine that fights dirty. Good luck to you, is all I can say. After her, you’ll probably face me, which no doubt, you’ll find less traumatising.”

“And after Bregindoure you’ll spar against me, if it appears that you need additional testing.” Beggahasta tapped her chest. “A true challenge for you, Matt. If you can complete it, I’m sure you will be able to handle those ghouls tonight. We have at least an hour before Polla and Ellian return; enough time for you to face each of us. These are the rules that you’ll follow, they’re quite simple: the first one to knock their opponent down and put them in a position to surrender, wins. No strikes to the face, treat your weapons as what they are: weapons. Even though they’re wooden, you can still injure each other. Are we clear?”

“Yes, mother!” Beggahasta’s children shouted like trainees saluting Sur Friya.

“Take your places ten paces from each other,” she commanded. “Then let us begin.”

Bregindoure nodded to his siblings, moving beside his mother. “Best of luck!”

“Thanks,” Matthias said, taking up his wooden sword and hammer.

He looked at his little sister—she’d not yet reached eleven—then swallowed. Perhaps part of his test was to not hurt her. “Remember, don’t try to be a hero, Dagma. Surrender quickly so I don’t hurt you.”

“I’m not a baby, Matt, and I’m going to surprise you.” She grinned, taking up her wooden sword and dagger.

Matthias paced the assigned distance then faced his sister.

Brother and sister raised their practise weapons.

‘If I think about it,’ he thought. ‘I’ve been so focused on my own training that I haven’t had time to see Dagma spar lately. I wonder how much she’s improved? Even though no matter how much she’s improved, I can’t just go for broke; I don’t want to hurt her.’

He would soon find out how skilled she was, regardless.

Beggahasta raised Tallis over her head.

“Ready!” she shouted.

The two challengers tensed.

Inside, Matthias’ will began contracting his soul.

“Begin!” Beggahasta brought down her sword.

The young greatfolk charged Dagma, hoping to end the contest quickly. 

He had size and strength on her, and he was going to use it.

Dagma drew back from his sudden charge, her eyes squinting.

“Rise up!” came her command.

In front of her, snow exploded, spraying through the air, forming a cloud of pure white.

Matthias skidded to a halt; his sister had vanished from view. 

“Well done,” he said. “But you’ll have to—”

A small form sprang from the snow cloud—a blur of black hair, wooden blades and raw snarls—shooting for his legs. He lowered his sword to block, batting her strikes aside then followed up with a blurring blow from his hammer, pulling back at the last moment, determined not to hit her too hard. His intent was focused on knocking her from her feet without injuring her.

In that moment, she dove, shooting through his legs, striking his thighs.

“Hah!” she cried, springing up, grinning at him. “That’s the same trick you used on Haakon!”

“Well done! But I’m faster than he was,” he shot toward her.

Strike!” she commanded. 

A snow cluster rushed him in a wave, intended to blind him, but he’d seen that trick before. He kept coming, hurdling through the cloud of white, his sharp hearing catching the crunch of boots in the snow.

“Got you!” He swung his wooden sword again, slowing the strike, avoiding harming her.

“Sink him!” she commanded.

The snow under his feet collapsed, he dropped, sinking up to his thighs. 

With a twist, he launched his body from the snow---its consistency now that of a bog---leaping free of the trap and rolling to his feet in a single move.

He stood up in time to see her bounding toward him, sword and dagger blurring. Was she trying to get under his guard where he’d have trouble reaching her and be disadvantaged by his long arms and greater height?

“Good strategy!” he acknowledged the tactic, his own weapons flicking out to parry hers.

He caught each strike with ease; Even at her young age, Dagma was a capable Life Enforcement practitioner—however—she was still only ten.

His soul was still pumping—sending life energy coursing through life channels between his spirit and body—he was naturally bigger than she was, both because of age, and his giant lineage.

It didn’t take the young greatfolk long to trap her in a cage of blows, she tried to fend off his flashing weapons desperately.

“Rise!’ she commanded again.

Snow exploded through the air once more, obscuring her from sight.

Her boots crunched the snow, moving quickly as she tried to escape; this time, however, he had his own trick ready for her.

“You forgot something about me, sister!” he laughed.

Beneath his feet, the shadow tendril formed, shedding black mist, burrowing into the snow. It tunneled through the white before appearing right in front of her; it was now bigger; having grown stronger and more powerful over the months of solidifying his foundation.

She hadn’t expected that it could travel as far and as fast as it did; she was completely caught off guard when it hooked around her boots, tripping her, she landed face down in the snow.

Dagma tried to get up, but Matthias was there in a breath, his sword levelled at her head.

“I yield,” was all she could say.

“Matthias wins!” Beggahasta announced.

Bregindoure applauded. “Good show! Good show! A fight straight from the old storybooks! I give it a rating of ten out of ten and would watch it again!”

Dagma’s face shifted between joy and disappointment, looking sidelong at Bregindoure.

“What have you been doing these last few months?” Matthias asked with a smile, offering his sister his hand. “You’re a lot stronger than you were when we first came here! I remember when you would exhaust yourself trying to throw a wooden sword using the Gift. Now look at you! How many times did you command the snow, three? Four? Five?”

Dagma panted, her fatigue obvious now that the rush of battle was dying. She took his hand. “Five sounds better…but it was actually four.”

“Four is excellent. At your age, I could only use…zero commands!” he laughed, pulling her to her feet.

“Yeah, that’s true; hey, wait a minute.” She glared up at him. “You could never use the Gift!”

“Ah, details.” He waved his hand, dismissing her words. “Besides, it’s clear you’re a much better fighter now too.”

“You were holding back, though.”

“Of course, I was. I’m stronger than you are, and I’m also your brother; it’s my job to hold back. Though, I have to say, at the rate you’re growing, you’ll be a fright in battle by the time you’re my age. Be proud, Dagma, you’re strong.”

The young girl thought that over for a moment, then beamed. “I know I’m stronger, and one day, I’m going to catch up to you!”

“We’ll see. I’m going to keep getting stronger, so you’ll have to work hard.”

The siblings smiled at each other, clasping hands.

Inside, Matthias’ soul was still pumping. Still circulating.

“Alright, looks like it’s my turn then,” Bregindoure’s voice rumbled.

He approached his brother, heavy boots crunching on packed snow, stopping ten paces before him then bowing. In his left hand he gripped a large wooden club, a round shield was strapped to his right arm. “You beat me with ease at Bear’s Head, but it’s not going to go your way so easily this time,” he promised, cracking his neck and raising his club and shield. “I’ll show you the result of my training.”

“Oh really? Looking forward to it.” Matthias grinned.

Dagma went to stand beside their mother, cupping her hands to her mouth. “Avenge me, Breg!”

“Hey!” Matthias looked at her sharply. “Isn’t that a little biased?”

“Well, everyone likes the underdog,” Bregindoure laughed. “And let’s face it, I am the underdog.”

“You’re two years older, about three heads taller, and weigh maybe two to three times as much as I do, on what plane are you the underdog?” Matthias demanded. 

“This one; I don’t have the stolen breath of a god coursing through me,” Bregindoure pointed out.

“You’ve been marked by a god of war, and you have the power of nature burning inside you!” Matthias countered, gesticulating wildly.

“Details.”

“Important details!”

“Insignificant details.”

“Incredibly significant deta—”

“I cannot believe I am saying this.” Beggahasta pinched the bridge of her nose. “Stop it, do not use your words, fight it out instead.”

She looked at Matthias. “Are you having any trouble with circulating right now?”

Matthias considered that; inside him his soul was still contracting, pumping Divine Breath-charged life energy between his spirit and body.

“No sign of it stopping.” He tapped his chest.

“Good,” she said proudly. “Then we can continue.”

She raised her sword. “Ready!”

“Do your best!” Dagma shouted.

Matthias and Bregindoure tensed.

Beggahasta brought Tallis down. “Begin!”

Red light flashed across Bregindoure’s back for an instant.

In a breath, he was in front of Matthias, wooden club raised, shield in guard position. 

Matthias gasped, leaping back.

The club came down, smashing packed snow, sinking deep, white exploded where he’d been standing. Bregindoure raised it again.

“That Rune of Sprinting is nasty!” Matthias called to him. “But, unfortunately for you, now you can’t use it for another minute!”

“Maybe not,” Bregindoure admitted. “But will that matter? Let us see, shall we?”

The giant stalked forward, shield raised. Now that the Rune of Sprinting was recharging, he was advancing cautiously, eyes never leaving his brother.

Matthias’ shadow tendril plunged through the snow, lashing out at Bregindoure’s ankles, trying to trip him…he remained rooted in place.

Matthias could understand how a mouse would feel trying to trip a mastodon.

“Well, that’s not going to work,” the young greatfolk muttered under his breath, darting at his brother, weapons flashing in a flurry of strikes. Bregindoure’s shield shot up, catching the blows as he continued advancing, keeping his movements small, taking on his brother’s flurry by moving his broad shield as little as possible.

He could not keep up with Matthias’ speed, so he minimized his movements to compensate.

But that would only work for so long.

Weaving to his brother’s left—opposite the shield—Matthias continued raining blows, forcing Bregindoure to turn to continue blocking with his shield.

The giant whirled—his movements faster than they’d been in their first fight—then he brought his shield up. But he was still too slow; Matthias slipped past his guard, delivering a flurry of stinging strikes through his thick gambeson.

Bregindoure responded with a sweeping strike that seemed to roar through the air, driven by his tremendous strength.

Matthias ducked the blow. “Are you trying to turn me into paste? Hold back a little.”

Bregindoure gave him a surprised look, it soon changed to a fierce grin. His eyes shone with something Matthias hadn’t seen in them before, and his laughter rolled out over the courtyard.

“Thank you for the compliment!” his features were taken by a manic grin. He charged his brother. “But just so you know, Matt, I am holding back!”

He then dealt his own storm of swings.

The club came at Matthias, seeming ready to pulverize him, the younger giant wasted no time trying to parry; and as strong as he was, he knew even a fraction of Bregindoure’s strength could send him to the afterworld.

He skittered away, eyeing Bregindoure with his own fierce snarl.

His soul was contracting in time with his heartbeat and the rush of battle sang in veins; he was starting to enjoy himself.

A lot.

Bregindoure came at him again, shield raised, club swinging.

Matthias lashed out with his tendril, but he might as well have been lashing a castle wall with strands of straw. Bregindoure’s grin widened.

“Come on, mighty warrior, I know you can do better than that!” his laughter boomed, Runes flaring.

Matthias found his joy contagious and joined in, laughing wildly.

Bregindoure chased his brother, blocking the smaller warrior’s blows with his shield, deflecting some of his strikes with his club. Matthias was all smiles, dodging his brother’s blows and striding through the snow.

Their clash went on.

Over time, Matthias recognised Bregindoure’s weaknesses, gaining a measure of his new speed and learning that he would struggle to quickly turn in the snow. He began to understand the rhythm of his strikes and learned when to dart in to land some quick blows on his gambeson.

His shadow-tendril attacked Bregindoure from both left and right, swiping at his face, hands, and feet, working to throw him off.

Over time, Bregindoure too was learning more of his brother’s fighting style.

When Matthias retreated, Bregindoure didn’t chase him, standing firmly behind his shield instead, waiting for his brother to come to him. He let Matthias do the moving, unless his Rune of Sprinting had recharged, then only closing the distance to deliver a vicious strike.

Back and forth the brothers clashed, fighting one another…and laughing all the while.

The back and forth of the contest was exhilarating; Matthias was having fun. There was no life and death here, there was no struggle for survival, no dread of losing to one of his tormentors, this wasn’t even the monotony of routine training.

For once, he was facing an opponent who could challenge him, without the stakes being too high.

And he was loving it.

His abilities and training seemed to come together, he let himself go, enjoying the rush of combat.

Unfortunately, for Bregindoure, Matthias’ experience was increasingly manifesting. As the fight went on, the bigger of the two giants was having trouble even touching his brother; neither was tired, and Matthias was learning to predict Bregindoure’s strikes before he made them, countering each with ease.

The clash went on, and soon, Bregindoure was being pushed back; even his broad shield could not hold off his brother’s stinging slaps with his weapons. Increasingly, Matthias trapped Bregindoure in a cage of lashing strikes, until…

“Think fast!” he cried.

He raised his wooden hammer, Bregindoure lifted his shield to block; the tentacle slithered from behind the younger warrior, wrapping his opponent’s forehead, blinding him.

“Hey!” Bregindoure shouted, momentarily disoriented.

Matthias sprang into his guard, resting the tip of his wooden sword against his brother’s chin, right between his moustache-braids.

The larger warrior froze, raising his hands in surrender, then letting out a sigh and a chuckle. “So, I am undone!” he cried. “Enheduanna, why did you abandon me! Am I unworthy of victory?” he shouted in exaggerated distress.

His shoulders relaxed and as Matthias moved the shadow-tendril from his eyes, he winked at his younger brother. “You earned another victory today, but—be careful—this might be your last!”

“We’ll see about that.” Matthias clapped him on the shoulder. “Your skills and strength have grown immensely.”

“So have yours,” Bregindoure nodded, looking proud. “I’m going to have to catch up. Anyway, you’re about to be humbled, and I do like the sound of that.” he grinned. “You have mother to face next.”

A shudder went through Matthias. “Oh, by the Ascended, this is going to be brutal.”

He turned to Beggahasta, who was watching the two of them with Dagma.

Their sister had her fist clenched and a fierce snarl was on her face, just like a wolverine’s. “That was legendary!”

“It was, wasn’t it?” Beggahasta agreed. “Tell me, is your soul still beating like your heart?”

“It sure is,” Matthias took a deep breath.

Inside him, his soul kept pumping and circulating.

“Then there is no need for you to fight me.” Beggahasta nodded. “I am more than satisfied by that display from the three of you. You are all growing to be great warriors. Go and rest, Matt. Tonight, you will face the ghouls, with my blessing. You are more than ready.”

###

“This stone will be your lifeline.” Polla floated before Matthias. In her hand was a simple stone, polished to a high shine, a glyph was etched into its surface. A length of cord had been knotted around it, allowing it to hang from a belt. “Squeeze it once to open the gap in the ward and squeeze it again to close it. Lose this stone, and you lose control, leaving you vulnerable to being overwhelmed.”

“I understand.” Matthias took the stone from the mage, examining it closely.

“The cord has been reinforced with the Gift: you need not worry about a ghoul tearing it free or its claws ripping it from your belt. But still, do not lose it.”

“I won’t, I promise.” Matthias tied the stone tight to his belt, taking a deep breath. In the light of the evening sun that was now pouring through the window, the rock gleamed like a precious stone, but to Matthias, the simple rock held more value than any gemstone.

He adjusted his new weapons, both recently acquired from Dagger Rock.

The first was a finely honed sword, longer than his old blade. Over the many months they’d been in Windstone, he’d grown, and needed new weapons to suit his new height and bulk.

This heavier blade was a weapon most human men would have needed to use two-handedly, Matthias could freely wield it with just one. His warhammer was solid, a spiked monstrosity capable of unbalancing most warriors who would try to swing it.

Belted at his waist was his tiger-fang dagger, the magical gauntlets enveloped his hands.

He was ready.

“Well, here I go,” he said, turning to his siblings.

Bregindoure looked down at his little brother, towering over him from his greater height; he too had grown since they’d arrived in Windstone and was now taller and broader than he had been months earlier.

“Be careful, Matthie,” he said. “Were I more skilled, I would join you, but mother feels I am not ready yet. How strange it is for the older brother to have to stay back while the younger brother is ready to face ghouls. After our fight today, I am more anxious than ever to join you.”

“I had a head start; but you’re getting there.” Matthias smiled.

His little sister came up and hugged his waist; she too had grown a lot since they’d arrived. She was taller. Stronger.

“You’re able to do this,” she said, her voice confident. “And mother will be there with you. Face them on your own terms.”

He gave her a ferocious smile. “They’ll soon wish they’d stayed buried.”

“Well said,” Beggahasta agreed from the door. “Come, then. They await.”

###

Author's Note

Lol, so I intended to get to the ghoul fight this chapter, but it occured to me it'd make more sense if they tested Matthias' skill first and it was a nice way to show off Dagma and Bregindoure's progress.

Sometimes we don't really get updates on anyone besides the MC and I want to make sure that's not the case here.

Also Monster Hunter Wilds is crazy good. HIGHLY recommend.

Cya Monday!