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Post by Richter Abend on Nov 19, 2012 13:28:29 GMT -6
A true opportunist, using the now closed distance to strike with a hidden blade!
Richter tried to swing his axe inward to deflect the blow, but given the awkward angle of the parry, and the speed of Yaen's own surprise strike, was only able to partially redirect the attack before feeling his axe wrenched from his hand. The Ilian's weapon fell into the hot sand with a muted thud as the flawlessly crafted Sacaen sword cut through the unprotected flesh between Richter's neck and his right pauldron like a butcher's knife through a beast to be slaughtered. Blood spurt from the wound, adding one more stain to the blood-soaked arena sand as Richter yanked his head away from Yaen's now errant weapon.
But the commander had born far worse injuries than this before. Far worse. Hooking his right arm upwards, Richter grabbed Yaen's sword arm at the inner elbow, restricting the movement of said arm and locking the sword it was holding into his own, wounded shoulder. Then, with the swordsman now unable to escape backwards as long as he remained holding onto his weapon, Richter aimed a fearsome left hook Yaen's jaw.
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Yaen
Swordmaster
Prince of Blades Mad Swordsman
Now let's play the Song of Swords.
Posts: 305
Sacae Fame: 2
Bern Fame: 3
Lycia Fame: 1
Profession: Vagabond
Affinity: Thunder
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Post by Yaen on Nov 20, 2012 9:29:41 GMT -6
The Wo Dao struck true, the stab clean and precise. Yaen smiled the faintest of smiles as his once virgin blade at long last received it's christening through blood and flesh. He looked at his opponent. He could see the surprise and the pain in his eyes. Now, he need but land that finishing blow. Yet, before he could pull his blade, he felt it. The tightening in his chest. The tingling of his sword arm. The Sacaen Swordmaster gritted his teeth. Why now!? He had taken his medicine! Was it from that blow Ardus had landed only moments earlier?
Ardus grabbed his arm, preventing him from moving his blade, and struck him across the face. It didn't matter, though. Even if he had allowed Yaen to pull the sword from his flesh, it didn't matter. His arm was trembling. His breathing was heavy. Already, his face was beginning to look cold and clammy. He stared at Ardus, struggling to maintain a steady breathing rate. His chest was on fire. His left arm was numb. He was having a heart attack. "I...I need to lie down...." he confessed, his hand releasing the Wo Dao. He collapsed against Ardus, his right hand clasping the man's shoulder. "My... My heart..." he wheezed. "I-I yield... Please... I need my.... medicine...." His legs gave out, and he fell to his knees, clutching his chest with his right hand, his left dangling uselessly at his side.
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Post by Clair Feldsky on Nov 20, 2012 19:13:11 GMT -6
The flashing steel and darting warriors reflected in Clair's eyes, watching from the sidelines. It had been a long time since she'd seen- actually stopped and witnessed- such an amazing battle. She could see their movements like perfectly choreographed patterns, one leading into the next almost flawlessly, and yet she knew that everything going on here was spur of the moment. It was all the product of years of practice and battle. An art style which could only be truly perceived by those who lived in the same manner.
She found herself on the "edge of her seat" as the battle flowed through its highs and lows. Nevermind the fact that she wasn't sitting. The snap quick motions of the fighters made it difficult to track their movements as an observer. It looked like each one had honed their combat instincts extensively. The similarity in fight nature was contrasted by how Yaen continued switching weapons though. Especially considering how "Ardus" didn't even reach for his secondary.
Now she was wanting to test herself against Richter.... It had been awhile since they'd had a serious sparring match, and she was curious where she was after having developed on her own for a few months. She'd had a few matches against some of the drill trainers and veterans in the army. Delia Collins provided at least a competitor for her in the air. She hadn't had a go at her Commander in too long though. After the tournament she'd have to do something to rectify that.
Her attention snapped from dispersed among her surroundings to focused on Richter as she saw a crimson stained blade protrude out the back of his shoulder. it took a moment for her to reconcile what she was seeing with her mind, but once enough of the scene filtered through, she was glad she was carrying her lance. It kept her from seizing too much at the shock of seeing the disguised Winter Lion pierced. For a moment, there was nothing but recognizing he'd taken the hit. Stabbed through the shoulder by merciless steel craft. Once the short freeze passed though, there wasn't much else in her mind than hoping he was alright.
"Richter!" The word was out her mouth and away before the memory of laying low could even reestablish itself. Neither did it return after she saw he wasn't going to fall down that instant. The only thing she had going for her was the roar of the crowds that the conflict had triggered. It was near deafening down here in the pit. She saw the axe go flying. Saw the impacts of the punches. Saw the swordmaster slouch. What was going on over there?!
"Richter! Finish him!"
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Post by Richter Abend on Nov 23, 2012 1:57:46 GMT -6
"Richter! Finish him!"
The Ilian commander cringed as he heard his second in command shout out his name, revealing his identity to anyone who had the ear to hear. She may have been fearing for him, but the ever taciturn commander hardly felt that was a good reason to blow his cover. The roar of the crowd around them was incredibly loud, though, so those who did hear may in fact number few. Hopefully that was the case.
Richter looked down at the Sacaen, who was now wheezing and clutching his heart, and stood motionless; like a statue in all ways but his ability to bleed. And as his stood, his confusion quickly changed to frustration. The force of his blows had probably aggravated the man's current condition, but Richter doubted that his punches, however strong, were the sole cause of the swordsman's breakdown. After all, Yaen was gasping for medicine, which could only mean that this was nothing new for him.
"Looks like I win," he said quietly and, after a moment's pause, pushed the "Prince of Blades" off of him. Yes, it was a victory, and victory by any means was a good thing, but ending a battle like this left a bittersweet taste in Richter's mouth. He didn't feel like he had beaten Yaen, just that the Sacaen had lost.
The surly Ilian bent down and picked up his fallen axe before turning and making the long walk back to his entry gate. While much of the audience still yelled and cheered, much of the audience had gone quiet, perhaps as unsatisfied as Richter was. It was an odd way to end a match, and from a distance, it probably didn't seem like much had happened.
"Get the man his damn medicine," the disguised Ilian barked at the nearest attendant as he passed back into the holding room. At this, two men with staves rushed out into the arena while the man closest to Richter made a motion for the wounded fighter's shoulder. But Richter, too proud and too agitated to accept any help, brushed the worker off. "I'm fine," he said with a growl. "I'm not the one with my face in the dirt out there."
The Ilian fighter stole one last glance at the blue robed figure lying out in the sand, before rounding then next corner, and when he was out of sight, looked down at the bloodless weapon in his hand. The sight of it shamed him, but he had to ask himself why. He was here for work, not fun, so why did he care so much? Was he actually enjoying himself? It seemed the answer was yes.
Well, stop enjoying yourself. You've got a job to do.
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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 Nov 23, 2012 11:10:25 GMT -6
Wyatt elbowed Clair quickly as she blew Richter's cover, sending her an odd look. [red]"Yeah, Ardus really surprised me out there!"[/red] He said it a loud voice, trying to draw some attention from her.
And then Richter came back in, to which Wyatt moved to greet him. [red]"Nice fight out there Ardus. It's a shame it had to end like I did, but you showed some really nice moves with that axe out there. I'm really impressed."[/red] He said, eying the worn weapon. [red]"After we're done here, I need to reforge that. I'll make it a weapon much more suitable for a fighter of your quality. It only seems fitting."[/red] He said with a grin as clapped the solider on the back, adding in a whisper. [red]"Not gonna lie, I kind of a cheered a little inside when you punched him in the face. But what happened out there? It looked like you broke something with your punch."[/red]
Wyatt had to guess that Richter had broken one of Yaen's ribs with that solid shot, but somehow that didn't seem quite right.
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Post by Clair Feldsky on Nov 24, 2012 8:35:15 GMT -6
Clair felt the rib in her side and jumped a bit at the shot. Then she caught what it was for. She'd slipped up, and let the name fly. She quieted herself, but had other things on her mind than worrying about an alias. Like the blade that had just stuck through Richter... Ardus' shoulder.
She followed Wyatt over to the gate to greet her injured champion. He seemed to not care that he'd taken a thrust through the shoulder. She rolled her eyes as the boys immediately started talking battle before moving in herself.
"Ah ah. That arm needs worked on right away. It was a good fight. Good fight... Are you ok?" She sighed, realizing that she was going to probably be perceived as smothering by the man she cared about, and took a breath to ease off and get him some space. "...Ardus, blades through the chest is not a look you want to cultivate. Please try to stop doing this to me."
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