for Zrak.

And to Linzi, he just gives a simple nod. She handled herself well back at the manor... In fact, she probably handled herself better than Zrak did. She'll be fine as long as she sticks with Amiri.

He kicks his legs back and forth on the chair, almost as if an excited kid, looking over to Malkala again. "I'd say we get ready here while we can, look for ambush spots, then get exploring. I can't keep myself in one place either."

Moments later, he feels an aching in his stomach, feeling his leathered-covered torso with his bone-thin hands. A series of empty bowls lie around him. "Mmm. Mmm, thanks." The wide-brimmed smile on his face indicates content toward Svetlana. "Alright Malkala, guess we ought to get going?"

Malkala nods as she stands, "Let's see what's around here. First, though..." She trails off as she pulls out the map of the Stolen Lands, "Amiri, Linzi, would you mind exploring around this area?" Her taloned fingertip draws a line straight east from the trading post, then down south once she hits the river, "Don't go very far, once you hit the river, start heading back. That should take you about a week, no more than two."

The pair of women look at the map, Linzi obviously trying to memorize the route, while Amiri just seems excited to go out. Linzi nods after a few minutes and says, "Yeah, we can do that. Ready Amiri?"

The barbarian woman nearly runs back toward the trading post's entrance in excitement. Linzi has to give a hasty goodbye before she is completely left behind. Svetlana smiles after them, "It is good to see such enthusiasm." She then looks back to Malkala and Zrak, "Feel free to look around and use whatever you need to deal with the bandits."

Oleg simply snorts before returning to the roof of the building. Svetlana steps inside the main building after giving the pair one more bow.

Once they are on their own, Malkala says, "Let's see what we can find."

The pair start walking around the post to see what they can find. However, as they approach the center area of the post, Zrak hears the sounds of grunts, impacts, and the occasional rush of fire. Running behind the northern building of the yard, they find two women seemingly fighting by the compost pits. With a bit of observation, though, it is easy to see that instead of a serious fight, they are training, using the wooden grate covers of the pits as their battleground.

One of the women is dark of skin with black hair that is starting to go grey. Her pure white sleeveless robes cover her from neck to toe, a black cloak-like cover hangs over one shoulder, and her black and gold gloves are flawless despite her throwing punches at her opponent. The other woman is nearly completely red in clothing, eyes, and hair. Her sleeveless shirt and pants seem to shine like metal despite clearly being cloth, possibly because of the piecemeal plates of metal and chain helping protect vital points. What is amazing, though, is that as she fights, embers and motes of fire surround her. Nothing catches on fire from it, but she occasionally pulls some of her fiery aura to surround her fists as she attacks both in melee and range.

As they fight, it is easy to become mesmerized in the violent beauty of it. The dark skinned woman is obviously the more skilled of the pair, but they seem to be in lock step, as if they had done this every day for years. At one moment, they notice Malkala and Zrak watching, but do not stop fighting for another five minutes or so. Then, they seem to come to a silent agreement to end and step off of the pits.

"Hello!" The dark skinned woman calls, "How can we help you?"

Fixating green eyes shine out towards the two women as Zrak appears overcome with awe. He's had his fill of unarmed combat before, fighting with his claws and incisors; but he's never seen one fight with fists and feet so impressively. There is a certain style to it that he can't imagine viable in combat; yet the two flow in a way he's never seen.

"Damn," he responds, still appearing mesmerized by their practice. "We were just watching. I've never seen anyone fight like you two do." He twitches his head between the two unarmed fighters. Where did they learn to fight like that?

"Who are you two anyway? We just arrived here for a bit." His tail swings around wildly; everyone can see the clear excitement in his body.

The dark skinned woman smiles, noting Zrak's enthusiasm, "A warrior, are you? My name is Talia and this is my apprentice, Fyrin."

Now that the pair are closer to Zrak, he can see more of their details. Talia is mostly human, yet there seems to be a sturdiness to her posture, a frame that seems to hide mass and strength behind it. It takes Zrak a while to place it, but he eventually realizes that it reminds him of a dwarf. She is a bit shorter than Zrak was expecting. Maybe she has a distant dwarven relative, or maybe even a dwarven side of the family.

But it is Fyrin that really draws his attention. From a distance, it looked like her hair and clothing were simply red with a metalic sheen. On closer inspection, though, he finds that her hair has highlights of pure fire running up and down the locks, and her shirt's sheen comes from an campfire ember like affect that rises from the bottom to her chest. If that wasn't enough to tip him that she had an otherworldly heritage, her eyes, thought to be just red as well, are actual pits of fire. And that ember aura around her has not faded.

"We are travelling the River Kingdoms," Talia continues, "In search of a fort said to be hidden here."

Malkala gives Talia a smile, "Unfortunately, you will not find a shortage of forts. But, if we can be of any assistance, we will. We have a charter to explore the Greenbelt, so maybe we can help find it."

Talia opens her mouth in a silent 'ah,' "You must be the adventurers we have heard so much about in the past day. I would be lying if I said I wasn't a little curious how you two got the job."

Zrak gives a sly, toothy grin beneath his hooded cloak. "Well we did more than a few others to get the task," he responds, leaning forward like many ysoki do.

He can't help but look at both Talia's posture and Fyrin's flame-licked appearance. There was something about the former's appearance that put her style in context, as if the hefty sturdiness helped make her fist harder than any warhammer. So perhaps Fyrin makes up for less bulk with her infernal strikes.

"We helped save a manor from a huge attack," he continues, ignoring the potential consequences of not staying quiet. "They had giants with 'em too! It's almost a shame you missed it." He speaks genuinely, really hoping to see more of the two and their fighting style.

He twitches his ratty head, looking down at Talia and Fyrin's hands and feet. A curious thought came to his mind. "Though, uh... Can you two actually punch through a giant's skin? I always have to bite or use this," he pulls out the metal ball on his lure, "to do anything worth a damn."

"Through skin?" Talia shrugs, "I'm honestly not sure. Bludgeon attacks typically don't really pierce through things. Deal damage, though? That is something I can definitely do. In fact," she looks to Fyrin, "maybe we can show you."

Fyrin has been silent and observing Zrak for the conversation, as if studying a potential opponent. When Talia looks to her, though, the silent woman lets out an eager snort and her mouth curves up in a fighter's grin.

"How about a match? You versus Fyrin on top of the compost grates. No holes barred, except for no killing of course, and no weaponry. This can be a great opportunity to learn." Talia's eyes shine and glance at Malkala, "Both of you."

Malkala holds her hands up, "I'm not really interested in fighting."

"Oh, you do not have to fight if you don't wish to. But, I think this would still be an opportunity to learn."

Malkala narrows her eyes, half in thought, half in confusion, and looks to Zrak, "You going to fight?"

Malkala sees a bonechillingly excited look in Zrak's eyes; his claws twitch violently in the stale air. Talia's words spark something in him, as if he already forgot about nearly dying at the manor.

"Oh I'm going to fight," he says, removing his combat lure and placing it next to Malkala. "I always had to sharpen my claws, file my teeth, just so I'm not a dead rat on the road when I lose my weapon. I want to see what someone can do when they don't even need that."

Like a skittering creature, Zrak dashes to and on top of the compost grates, climbing without an apparent worry for its stability, and waits for Fyrin to join. He leans low, taking the stance of a wolf, and prepares himself for the match.

Fyrin seems to match Zrak's eagerness, her fighter's grin never fading. With a small leap, she jumps onto one of the other pits, her stance starting to spread wide and low. But, her overconfidence fails her as the grate under her shifts, causing her to stumble slightly.

Yet, that does not seem to deter her as she calls forth that aura of fire, stoking the embers into a storm of heat and light. Some of that fire swirls and spirals up from her legs and around her left arm, building and building into a blazing fire surrounding her fist. With a grunt, she punches forward, as if she was right next to Zrak instead of on the other side of the pits.

It is a strange sensation that hits Zrak. It feels like a punch, a bludgeoning force strong enough to leave a bruise, but a split second later, a blazing burn radiates from the impact, as if he was going to get third degree burns. But then, the chill air disperses the heat, and he soon only feels the impact.

The pummeling pain nearly topples Zrak over, feeling as if his own combat lure had struck him after its immersion in lava. What... what did she do? At once, Fyrin's blow was a fireball, wrapped in a fist and thrown away from her body. His incisors chatter in a flurry, reeling briefly before regaining his wolf-life posture.

A frenzy appears in his eyes, and his mouth twists to a big grin.

His body leaps across the grates, landing with a rattling CLANG on all four limbs. His head twitches with an uncomfortable fury as he moves in. His strikes with his hands and incisors are just like a lupine creature: aggressive and wild, attempting to overwhelm with speed and rage with an ounce of skill to back him up.

Zrak feels it when his claws sink into Fyrin's skin. As he does, he feels an immense heat from the woman, as if her blood was magma instead of blood, yet it does not hurt as he pulls back getting ready for another attack.

Talia, who is standing on the sidelines with Malkala, leans in toward the dragonborne. Her voice is soft but intent as she whispers, "You're starting to see it, aren't you?"

Malkala blinks, "Huh?"

"Your eyes and instincts are sharper than you think. You can see Fyrin's intentions and battle style already. Focus."

Malkala's eyes look back to Fyrin as the fiery woman as she begins to steady herself. She then slides forward, her fists surging forward as if at the same time. Yet, Zrak can see that they are actually slightly staggered, so while he is unable to avoid the first attack, he is able to duck down to avoid the second.

Malkala tried to focus on Fyrin like Talia suggested, but she could not see it. She was not clued into Fyrin's fighting style quite yet, and it shows as she did not expect the woman's next move.

Fyrin throws her hands to her sides, as if trying to stand in the shape of the letter A. She then tilts back slightly as jets of fire explode from her hands, launching herself toward one of the other compost pits. Her feet land hard, shaking the grate so hard it nearly falls into the pit.

Air wheezes from Zrak's snout as he sees Fyrin launched herself from one of the grates to the other. His mouth shows a mix of awe and frustration. This 'game' of tag annoys him, as if being strung along on some fool's chase and constantly taking the bait. Already he feels his body worn out, and a driving fear in his mind almost pushes past his rage.

A scathing hiss spews out of Zrak's mouth before he once more skitters across the grates. His bone-thin hands and feet poke through the holes, moving as comfortably as any small rodent would, before reaching Fyrin again.

Once more, he uses his speed and momentum to his advantage. Rather than swipe with his claws, the wild ysoki opens wide and bites at Fyrin's leg, determined to bring her down on the ground and make sure she doesn't move again.

Zrak moves forward fast, his legs ignoring the grates of wood underneath. With mouth wide, he lowers his stance, and chomps down hard on Fyrin's leg. With a cry, she falls to the ground, stunned for a moment, which gives Zrak enough time to climb on top of her and lunge for her neck, his instincts kicking in.

"Enough!" Talia calls out.

That is enough for Zrak to get pulled from his battle fury and rise to a stand. Fyrin takes a moment to breathe, seeing the possibility of death approach swiftly. When she is calm, she stands and gives Zrak a grin.

"Well done, all three of you." Talia says, clapping her hands. "It was fast, but I hope it was a learning experience for you all." She turns to Zrak and Malkala, "Thank you for giving me a chance to teach my apprentice a lesson I cannot give. We will be here for the next couple of days if you wish to train with us."

Malkala smiles, "I'm sure Zrak would love that opportunity." She glances at him, "Right?"

The end of battle signals a lingering pain in Zrak's body. The flaming punches leave a mark almost like a flaming hammer pounded on him. "Urk," he mutters, not immediately answering Malkala's question. "Feels like I was just swinging wildly against someone that