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Post by Richter Abend on Sept 18, 2012 4:07:46 GMT -6
Richter stood behind the north gate, his arms folded across his chest and his eyes closed shut in a sort of pre-battle meditation. Excitement welled up in his chest, and his blood boiled with an eagerness to step into the ring. At last, after all of the other first round fights, it was finally his turn.
"This is not our first battle, and it shall not be our last, but it shall be a battle to remember"
The line echoed in his head as he focused his thoughts. It was from the speech he had given to his men just before they had charged Ariston's fort what now seemed like an eternity ago. Richter highly doubted that the upcoming tournament match was going to be as momentous or nerve-racking as that night had been, but nonetheless, the words helped clear his thoughts.
"And now for the final fight of the first round!" came the voice of the announcer. A loud roar echoed from the crowd, and Richter shuddered with anticipation. At least a thousand people waited outside that gate, and they would all be watching his fight.
"At the south gate, we have Calder, the Ebon Blade!" The announcer was met with another bout of cheering. Ebon Blade? A sword-wielder then. Richter had naught but his axe, but he would make do. It had killed plenty of sword users already.
"At at the north gate..."
There it was.
...Ardus, the Shadow Slayer!"
More bellowing from the crowds outside. To the Ilian, it almost sounded like the roar of battle, but the feeling was completely different. There was an energy in the air that was absent from the battlefield. It made Richter want to walk out that gate.
"Let's give them something to cheer about," he muttered to himself, rolling his shoulders as the gates opened before him. Light poured into the gate room, and slowly, calmly, a midst all of the cheering, Richter strode out onto the arena sands. The spectator-filled stands rose up around him, and he could feel thousands of eyes focusing in on him. It was a new feeling, but it gave him purpose as he directed his own gaze upon his opponent standing on the far end of the tournament field.
His opponent, Calder, waited quietly on the other end of the field. His jade colored cloak stood out against the yellow-brown of the sandy arena ground, and he wore little armor, save for a set of metal shoulder guards and a pair of leather bracers. Even from this distance, Richter could make out the calm expression on the other man's face. This man was just as ready for this as he was. Good.
"Let the fight...BEGIN!"
With that simple word, Richter was gone. His axe drawn, he had begun to sprint towards his opponent, kicking up dust and sand as he closed the distance. And upon seeing the Ilian fighter zeroing in, the Ebon Blade had drawn his own weapon, a longsword as black as the night sky, and was returning Richter's charge in kind.
The two met with a reverberating clang in the center of the arena, as Richter's powerful overhanded strike met halfway with Calder's own attack from the inside. There was a brief, almost unnoticeable pause as the two blades slid against each other, as if sizing each other up, but their momentum would not be stopped so easily. Stepping in, the Ilian brought his full weight to bear upon the hilt of his axe and drove the tip of his opponent's sword to the ground in an attempt to knock the swordsman off balance. Like water, however, Calder slipped out from under Richter's weapon, and responded with a two-handed thrust to the leather-bound fighter's midsection.
Richter managed to avoid the attack and pivoted on his hind leg to pulled himself out of the way. Predictable. The pitch black blade grazed harmlessly past his chest, leaving little more than a scrape mark on the Ilian's armor. Calder, now overextended, was open for a counter attack. Counterbalancing the momentum from his evade, Richter swung his right arm out, and, axe in hand, cut inwards, fully ready to catch the swordsman upside the head. Old habits die hard.
Yet Calder managed to evade with an almost uncanny flexibility. He bent backwards, his back arched like a bridge, and allowed Richter's axe free passage through the air mere inches away from his face. But as the swordsman rose back into a ready stance, he was greeted by Richter's metal clad fist, which collided right with the side of his head. The blow, a solid hit by any standards, sent Calder to the ground, allowing Richter a chance to step back and catch his breath.
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Calvin Toros
Pupil
Friendship gives value to survival
Posts: 154
Profession: Bard
Affinity: Light
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Post by Calvin Toros on Sept 18, 2012 13:59:21 GMT -6
Calvin sat silently, his eyes glistening with anticipation as he stared down to the sandy ring of combat in the centre of the arena. There were awesome fighters, super cool magic and even some mean people! It was like a fairy tail! The display of magic and strength was almost beyond simple Calvin’s comprehension. Needless to say he lit up as the announcer spoke once again. The final fight of the first round… Awesome! Calvin joined the loud roar of the crowd trying his hardest to cheer the loudest. Obviously his cry was insignificant in comparison, un-recognisable from within the thousands of audience. Still, he liked to think he was the loudest, simple pleasures!
Another collection of cheers met the introduction of the Ebon Blade and again with the Shadow Slayer. Calvin glared innocently into the arena. Whatever this fight meant to whoever, to him it was just exciting to watch. Silence fell upon the arena, the two fighters almost staring each other down, analysing. Calvin wondered what went through their heads in a situation like this! He would love to know… The silence was broken by the echoed announcement of beginning of the fight. The crowd cheered as Slayer shot towards his opponent. A Clang echoed, Calvin jumped in excitement, the blades slid and the swordsman fluidly escaped the clash. Calvin was shocked! With ease he escaped this boar of a man! Calvin sat at the edge of his seat, still no idea who to cheer for the exciting match was merely beginning!
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Aurek
Soldier
I hate the undead just a little more than I hate the living.
Posts: 122
Profession: Santa
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Post by Aurek on Sept 18, 2012 14:32:26 GMT -6
As soon as both fighters had entered the field, Aurek could feel that monsters had appeared before men. Such an epic clash was sure to be thrilling! Everyone around Aurek seemed to agree as a mass of bodies crushed in to get a better look. And the fighting hadn't even started! The crowd was going wild too. Apparently the arena managers had saved the best for last. When the start command was given and both combatants rushed toward each other, it was like two unstoppable forces had been thrown together. Every moment was meant to be observed with the greatest detail. That was not possible however. The speed and skill of the fighters made the first exchange seem almost instantaneous to Aurek. A flurry of motion had occurred before the Shadow Slayer stepped back from the fray. Needless to say, Aurek was riveted and speechless.
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Post by Tuatara 'Tut' Yamen on Sept 18, 2012 15:54:32 GMT -6
Swordsalwayswinswordsalwayswinswordsalwayswin... Tuatara silently muttered to himself. He saw that the axman was kicking butt, but he refused to believe it. Swordsalwayswinswordsalwayswin....
"KICK HIS BUTT MR. EBON!!!" Tuatara yelled. Where was the strange mage from before? Tuatara sure hoped he didn't show up. "This is the best fight ever! None of the other fights started this way."
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Post by Clair Feldsky on Sept 18, 2012 21:30:28 GMT -6
Clair stood, riveted to the sights before her. None of the other matches had commanded such rapt attention from her, and with good reason. That was her love out there. Wearing a different name, hair darkened to pitch, bearing a different weapon, but still her Richter underneath. A type of anticipation filled her. Even parts concern and excitement. Of course there was an underlying worry that something would go wrong, disaster would strike through the ebon blade of his opponent, but managed to remember his skill and experience as well. She'd seen the Commander pull through death defying stunts with nary a scratch, and defy death after taking the worst of injuries. He'd fought a duel atop the backs of wyvern and dragon, after all. It was easy enough to decide that there wasn't likely to be a match to such an intense arena as that, even here in Bern's arena.
She schooled herself to keep from chuckling at his choice of name. Ardus she could understand, and if he really thought a disguise necessary, it was hard to imagine a better name than that of his brother. Shadow Slayer amused her though. It sounded a bit more theatrical than she'd pegged on the pink (now black) haired mercenary.
The Falcoknight followed the action from where she stood at the sidelines, Ebon Blade was good. He was quick, and precise, and he demanded the attention of his opponent, but he clearly had either underestimated his opponent, or wasn't up to the task. Richter was at least a step ahead of him the whole while, as his control of the situation and the sock to the jaw demonstrated. At least he would make a good warm-up.
"KNOCK HIS TEETH IN ARDUS!" Clair yelled out towards the arena center, and her voice carried. There were still plenty of voices around to overwhelm her, but you learned a thing or two about projecting when you traveled with an army for a few years. She reached up and tucked a strand of hair behind an ear where it had fallen loose. She was suddenly feeling a bit self conscious about cheering, but no one else seemed to match the feeling, so she ignored it.
Of course, there was a good chance he'd already knocked (or at least loosened) the Ebon Blade's teeth, but Clair was fairly certain that it was the sentiment that counted. In which case she pitied the Ebon Blade. "Shadow Slayer" was a relentless foe.
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Wyatt
Hero
The Volcano
How can someone win if winning means that someone loses?
Posts: 463
Etruria Fame: 2
Sacae Fame: -1
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Post by Wyatt on Sept 18, 2012 22:34:02 GMT -6
Wyatt had been enjoying the fight, the same as everyone. He couldn't help feel that he recognized the Shadow Slayer's style of combat though. Some might say it resembled his own, but it was more cautious...the moves seemed random, but there was an underlying system to them. A very similar, but still very different style of fighting. Something nagged at him as he watched the fight, and he remained silent for a little bit.
And then Clair's cheering snapped him out of it. He turned his attention from the fight to her for a moment, taking in her reaction. She'd never gotten that invested into the other fights...she's always made a critical comment...or analytical, or just remained quiet. She had always been in control. But now, now she seemed a bit more...wild?
Wyatt arched an eyebrow. [red]"You know this guy Clair?"[/red] He asked of her, turning his eyes back to the ring as the Shadow Slayer delivered a punishing haymaker. Wait...wait a minute! [red]"T-That axe!"[/red] Wyatt remarked, gripping the bars tightly, trying to get a closer look as the fighter's danced around. Since 'Ardus' stopped moving after he floored the opponent, it gave Wyatt a moment to look. Of course! The fighting style, Clair's reaction, the hair style too. And of course, that axe. That was the first weapon Wyatt had ever forged from scratch, and he had passed it off to a certain man during a jail break not too long ago.
Wyatt had to take a step back and laugh. [red]"Geez Clair, you could have told me he was here. You think a Blacksmith wouldn't recognize his own axe?"[/red] He said with a laugh.
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Post by Clair Feldsky on Sept 19, 2012 19:46:28 GMT -6
"You made the ax, huh?" Clair spared a moment to look over from where she was watching the battle, and checked Wyatt. She had wondered if he would recognize Richter from their escape together. She hadn't been sure though. He hadn't recognized her though, so she hadn't been sure he would spot the Commander.
"Yes. Ardus is here. He wants to keep a low profile though, if you know what I mean, so don't make a big deal of it." Wyatt would probably catch on on his own, but she wanted to make certain.
"For now though, I want to watch the warm up round." She grinned as she said this, already convinced of the winner.
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Post by Richter Abend on Sept 21, 2012 0:07:06 GMT -6
"A solid hit, Shadow Slayer," said Calder as he rose to his feet. "It isn't often I get struck like that." Despite his words, he wore no expression of pain on his face, but once erect, the Ebon Blade rubbed his jaw ruefully. He was still for a moment, then spat out a tooth. "Now you've gone and ruined my smile." Richter, however, remained silent, merely dropping into a ready pose, and extended his axe behind him. "Ah, no banter, then? Are we just going to fight?" Still, silence. "What a bore," sighed Calder, before he too readied his stance, brandishing his blade in front of him.
"Indeed," said Richter, flashing a small, wolfish grin before once again darting at his opponent. But this time, the Ebon Blade saw it coming. He swiftly maneuvered inward, positioning himself well-inside the taller man's stance, and using his sword, knocked the Ilian's axe arm aside. Richter attempted to recover, turning with the swordsman's push, but Calder was still one step ahead. The swordsman forced his leg behind Richter's and swept it back, tripping the axe-wielder and sending him face first towards the ground.
Fast! It was all Richter could think as the sand rapidly came up to greet him, and not appreciating it's hello, he thrust his hand forward, absorbing the force of the fall with his arm. Then, using his remaining momentum, Richter rolled to the side, narrowly avoiding the long steel blade that came jabbing down where his midsection had been not a half-second ago.
But Calder was not done. As Richter scrambled to his feet, the swordsman aimed another strike at his opponent, this time aiming for the head. The veteran soldier managed to jerk his skull out of the way fast enough to avoid getting impaled, but not fast enough to avoid a small gash from opening up on his right temple. Once on his feet, Richter ran a finger over the new wound. That was payback, wasn't it?
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Aurek
Soldier
I hate the undead just a little more than I hate the living.
Posts: 122
Profession: Santa
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Post by Aurek on Sept 21, 2012 16:19:23 GMT -6
He had knocked out a tooth! Ardus had been able to punch his opponent in the face! Calder was quick on the return though. After a quick chat that Aurek couldn't hear, the two were at it again. Except this time, the swordsman was the one who came out on top. It would have been the end of the fight, but Ardus was able to escape with a minor head injury. Aurek was being overwhelmed. The show happening before him was absolutely amazing. Such a duel had probably not occurred in this arena recently and it was only the first round! Fighting either one of these men did not seem like a good idea. However, Aurek could not shake the thought from his head. I want to test my mettle against men like these. A fight with everything on the line. It seems so... thrilling. Obviously, I am too weak at the moment but later... definitely later.
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Post by Clair Feldsky on Sept 21, 2012 22:25:19 GMT -6
Clair watched as The Ebon Blade stood himself up. She heard some of his complaints. Saw him spit his tooth out. That hit had been every bit as good as it looked, apparently.
"I didn't actually mean it when I said to knock his teeth out...." Despite the skill she possessed in its ways, she really didn't like to see permanent harm done to people. At the very least, it was wasteful. Perhaps it was her Ilian sensibilities, but it was hard for her to think of anything much worse than senseless destruction and defacing.... Not that she considered Richter's actions as such. Calder had got his due for walking himself onto a fist. Too bad for him.
She watched as the battle shifted and turned, and her eyes bolted open as the swordfighter moved in smoothly and sent Richter into a face plant, repelling the strikes of her champion as he went. She watched in dismay as Richter barely managed to roll out of the way and scramble backwards, taking a nasty gash to the side of his head. That one was going to make the rest of the fight tougher by blocking his vision. The longer they went on, the more blood would spill out!
"Stop playing with your food and club him with the damned axe!" She pressed against the chains as she shouted out to Richter.
Her brain kicked into overdrive. She couldn't say she'd ever been able to keep up and analyze combat like this before. Ebon Blade had more in him than she'd originally given him credit for. She thought back on how he'd pressed his advantage. He was good, but she thought she'd caught a bit of an opening after his successful hits. He liked flair, after all. At least from how he'd been moving so far, that was what she guessed. Richter was far more businesslike in his fighting, but his movements held a swift, blunt efficiency that left little room for mistake.
She wished he was using a sword of some kind. Something he was more familiar with. The axe, she considered to be a graceless weapon. Plenty effective at smashing blows, but this was a match of precision, and precision with an axe was a completely different beast than its counterparts with the sword and lance.
"I haven't seen him fighting like this since..., well, back before you met him. Somewhere in Sacae...." Her gaze was still locked onto the fighters as she spoke to Wyatt, and her voice sounded a bit more charged with energy than she usually allowed.
"He dodged under a sword sweep, and leapt right up onto the back of an enemy charger, knocking the cavalry soldier off as he took the horse. I started working on some acrobatics of my own after that display, but I think it was just natural for him. No practice necessary."
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Wyatt
Hero
The Volcano
How can someone win if winning means that someone loses?
Posts: 463
Etruria Fame: 2
Sacae Fame: -1
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Post by Wyatt on Sept 23, 2012 21:55:39 GMT -6
Wyatt laughed as the swordsman spit out a tooth, and a little bit at Clair's..'enthusiastic' cheering. But he wasn't laughing for long as the swordsman recovered quickly. He pushed 'Ardus' into the defensive, and he was not relenting. An axe wasn't the best weapons against a sword, and Wyatt knew from seeing Richter fight back in Etruria that he was not terribly experienced with the weapon. Maybe he'd improved with it? But still, Wyatt could tell, his style seemed better suited for a sword, much like his own sword style looked like he was using an axe. Some habits were hard to break.
Wyatt took a sharp inhale of breath, watching Richter dodge a deadly strike. [red]"Jeez, this guy isn't playing around! I know it's no holds bared but..."[/red] He knew death could happen here, but he wasn't expecting people to be aiming for it. Is that what would be expected if he were to fight Clair? Or Yaen? Or Mana?
The thought occupied him for a moment as the fighters prepared for their next strike. [red]"He certainly has no lack of talented maneuvers. But I already knew that. He's really someone you want watching your back, especially when you fight like I do."[/red] He remarked, absentmindedly.
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Post by Richter Abend on Sept 24, 2012 3:17:04 GMT -6
Richter's first impulse upon getting his cheek marked was, as typical of his fighting style, to lunge once more at his opponent. In this case, however, self-control won out and the Ilian stayed his hand. Fighting unskilled clowns for too long had its negative effects, it seemed, and he'd rather not risk another near fatal shave if he didn't have to.
Calder was giving him plenty of time to think mid-fight, so he took full advantage of it. Circling about his opponent like a hunter studying his prey, the disguised fighter's gaze remained steadily fixed on the swordsman as he looked for potential weaknesses. There was little to find, though; Calder was supremely confident in his own ability. His face showed no hesitation, his stance betrayed no weakness, and his breathing remained slow and steady. If Richter was to best this man, it wouldn't be by making him lose his composure. He would have to be merciless and unrelenting to win.
Fortunately, that was well within his capabilities.
Richter figured that if Calder made the first move, it would be a feint. Indeed, the swordsman's style seemed to focus on staying balanced while disrupting the balance of his opponent. It was why he hadn't been expecting the punch, because he had been too busy planning his own counter attack. Knowing this, Richter concluded that the easiest way to win would be to bait the man into a counterattack then use that moment to strike. He'd have to play Calder's game, and make it his own.
But as Richter pondered his plan of attack, his chain of thought was severed by the dark edge of the Ebon Blade's sword. The blade initially came straight for his head, in reaction to which the Ilian defended with a guantleted arm, but as predicted the sword quickly danced to the side, changing it's trajectory to strike at his unarmored bicep.
Having no choice but to defend, Richter lifted his axe and intercepted the blow upon it's cheek, which prompted another strike from Calder. But the Ilian wasn't willing to stay on the offensive. With a burst of speed he stepped in and jabbed the blunt head of his axe into the swordsman's chest. The sudden strike momentarily knocked the wind out of Calder, allowing Richter to follow up with a backhanded chop aimed across Calder's midsection.
The Ebon Blade was slowed little by the lack of air in his lungs, however, and slid out of Richter's reach, once again narrowly dodging an otherwise devastating horizontal attack and continuing the battle unscathed.
Like a wild dance the fight whirled on, each fighter persisting in their attempts to land the finishing hit the other, with neither seeming to actually get the upper hand. Through a series of dodges and parries, Calder kept Richter's deadly attacks a sufficiently safe distance away from his person, and with his aggressive offense and careful timing, Richter kept finding ways to disrupt or otherwise avoid Calder's counterattacks.
However, the fight was far from even. While it was perhaps indiscernible from the stands, Richter noticed that as the battle dragged on, the Ebon Blade's attacks became less and less frequent, and that with every additional swing, the swordsman's blows grew slower and heavier. It wasn't a mystery why to the Ilian: Calder was getting tired.
Richter had little doubt that, as a swordsman trained in ending fights with quick and clean reversals, Calder was unused to vigorous swinging match this duel had become. So he pressed his advantage. Growling loudly, the disguised axe wielder increased the ferocity and cadence of his strikes, descending upon the swordsman like a man possessed.
Calder couldn't stand up to the Ilian's flurry of blows. Attacks that the swordsman had been able to sidestep moments ago he was now forced to parry, and attacks he had been able to parry he was now forced to block. To Richter, his movements were growing sluggish, which opened up the perfect window.
With a roar, Richter swung his arm up into the air, his axe glinting in the sun, and let it fall upon Calder like a guillotine. In the nick of time, the swordsman was able to raise his weapon, defending with the flat of the blade, and just as the battle had begun, the two weapons crashed together, steel upon steel. The blow had been so strong Richter could feel the aftershock of the collision echo through his arm, and not able to rebuff the force, Calder's right leg buckled. Richter exhaled in triumph. It was over.
No, Calder did not agree. As long as he could still swing his sword, he would fight! As his knee hit the ground, the Ebon Blade lashed out at Richter's legs, both hands grasping the hilt of his sword as he swung with all his might for one last ditch attempt at beating the darked haired man that now towered over him.
But it would not be enough.
Agreement or no, this match was Richter's. Before the black blade had a chance to come within inches of his legs, the veteran soldier thrust his axe forward, hooking the curved lip of the blade around the edge of Calder's sword, and with a wrenching motion, pulled the weapon from the defeated man's hands. Like a pinwheel, the weapon flew through the air, landing in the sand with a clatter; it's owner was left disarmed, disgraced, and defeated.
"This match is over," announced Richter, looking down upon the Ebon Blade as he placed the blade of his axe upon the man's neck. "Do you accept defeat?"
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Post by Clair Feldsky on Sept 24, 2012 8:19:21 GMT -6
Clair nodded in agreement, as she focused in on the two fighters. She saw Richter step back and take a moment to think about his approach. Calder fought something like how she fought. She'd seen enough now to identify how he played off of his opponents tactics. He tried to control the battle through tempo allowing an opponent to make a move before closing the trap around them. It was the defensive mirror of her own approach to battle. For someone sufficiently skilled there was no reason it shouldn't work, but Richter was proving them both wrong with this battle.
She cheered anyway, watching with rapt attention and excited by the slightest sign of victory for Richter. Seeing him jab the axe into the man's chest as Calder had tried to push in had been exactly what she'd been waiting for, and what the crowd loved. It roared its approval at the turnaround, and remained buzzing with energy.
After that, the battle continued, transforming into a flurry of attacks, counters, interrupts, and side slips. Blade and axe danced across the battlefield in the hands of their owners, sometimes seeming to careen uncontrollably, but always coming to exactly where they needed to be. After a time though, the balance began to shift. It was imperceptible at first, but as "Shadow Slayer" began pressing forward like a raging tyrant of battle, it became clear to her. Calder wasn't able to continue what he had been doing anymore.
And there was the end of the battle. The swordmaster buckled under the strike and fell to his knees. Even his last ditch attempt to hamstring the Commander failed as his weapon was forcibly wrenched away. It was over. Richter was left standing over his opponent with a weapon to his throat, and it was only waiting on ceremony to finish.
"Good fight, Ardus!" She cupped her hands around her mouth as she shouted, though she could barely here herself in all the sound. She glanced around the underground, seeing the other fighters with their scattered applause, warm up exercises, and tending to battered equipment. Richter's match might be over, but there was alot left to happen today. She turned back to the match to see its finish though. It would come in its own time.
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Aurek
Soldier
I hate the undead just a little more than I hate the living.
Posts: 122
Profession: Santa
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Post by Aurek on Sept 24, 2012 19:00:52 GMT -6
After a brief respite, Calder was first to resume the fight. Slashes, parries, thrusts, dodges and all manner of skillful displays were unleashed in full force. Yet... the fight could not last forever. Exhaustion was sure to take one if not both. Unless, of course, both were unnatural beasts from the grave, returned to life for the sake of the arena. Aurek laughed to himself. Resurrecting the dead. Ha! Like that happens.
It soon became apparent who the victor in the match would be. Ardus began a horrible pounding upon his foe, forcing the man to his knees. Despite Calder's last ditch effort, his weapon was wrenched away, and his head placed on the proverbial chopping block. Although Aurek knew he would have killed the man in a moment's notice, Ardus seemed to be giving him a chance to yield.
As Aurek watched the fight, he could feel a cold chill running down his spine. He didn't know why, but he felt sure that getting into a fight with Ardus would end in certain death for anyone. And the way he swung his ax... it reminded Aurek of some of the previous swordsmanship that he had seen. Right there, Aurek knew that if he ended up fighting this man, he would bow out immediately. Then his original idea returned to him. Yes... he would be the perfect one to knock me out. Skill and precision such as his would almost guarantee no extra damage to me... brilliant.
It was the end of the first round, and everyone seemed to be preparing for their next fight. Aurek could barely move, much less prepare anything. Besides, it wasn't like he had anything to get ready. He couldn't fix his armor, he had no extra weapons to tend to, and no winning strategies to go over. The only things he could do were find the Lost Swordsman and get his cloak back. His cloak! In his exhaustion he had failed to realize he had left that in the arena. Looking out between the bars, he couldn't see it on the battlefield. It looked like he would have something to do before his fight after all.
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Post by Valcrist on Sept 25, 2012 7:33:43 GMT -6
Just as soon as it began, it was already over. Valcrist had been on the edge of his seat, not because of the intensity despite it be very tense, but because he could not help but imagine himself in this battle. The man Ardus, Richter, was fighting was a swordsman of great speed and skill wielding an ebony blade. For a second, Valcrist drew his own ebon blade, Fang, a shoddily made weapon but still his first actual creation. It was almost as if he was fighting, and the result of the battle was not flattering. It was pretty much determined at the start of the battle, Richter's skill was simply unmatchable, but how easily the battle was concluded made his heart sink.
It didn't start that way, at first the two almost seemed equal. A punch to the face and a slash to the head, clashes of the weapons and some fanciful dodging. A dance of attack and attack, neither winning but neither losing as a flurry of steel upon steel sang a chorus of battle. Then, in a sudden motion it was as if there shouldn't have even been a match. The swordsman began to grow weary, tired, Valcrist knew the signs of fatigue in a swordsman like Ebon. Fatigue is the greatest enemy of a swift swordsman, Valcrist's training as a blacksmith gave him surprising endurance but not everyone had that luxury. If you can't dodge, you die. Sure enough, Ardus unleashed a monstrous strike that would kill most men outright, barely able to block Ebon was powerless. To add insult to injury, the axeman even disarmed the black blade from it's owner. It was simply painful to watch.
Calder fought differently from Valcrist, but even in such an uneven match the masked blacksmith could see that he was incredibly skilled. He did everything right, he just was up against the wrong man. If that was Valcrist... how on earth could he fight a monster like that?
He didn't cheer as the battle came to an end, as the stands erupted into a deafening roar around him, his just stared at the black haired man. Not sure if he was scared or... excited. Even if it meant certain failure, or even his death, he wanted to go up against him. He wanted to join to fight incredible fighters, to feel the rush of battle, what better fighter was there then Richter?
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