A duel before departure (VINCENT/DUMA C)

[Vincent]

The Western Isles. He had not yet seen them but he had heard the tales along his travels. A land of piracy and lawlessness, also the port from which he would depart into the far north. It was a quiet and easy walk thus far. No bandits, no assassins and no arum knights. The siege was over and the feathers foiled. But be would go on a training journey with the new colony and exploration team.

Shrugging his bag hire onto his shoulders he stopped to take a rest and to eat the fruits that dangled from the trees. Leaning against a great apple tree he enjoyed the cool space and rested in a pensive state. How he had come to be here? He had truly done a lot since leaving home. He had made a name for himself in his own right and fought alongside living legends. He found himself smiling now. He used to long for such a tale but now he just enjoyed the small joys. Much like the farm. But, in Lycian eyes he was a criminal so a trip home would take time.

His break coming to an end he stood and brushed himself off of dirt. As he rounded a turn and wind in the road he saw a familiar figure on the other end. At first he felt surprise but then a rush of excitement but him like a hurricane, not that he knew what a hurricane was. "Duma!" He called quickening his pace. "I never thought I'd see anyone I knew let alone yourself here. How long has it been? Months? A year?" He really had no idea. So much had happened since the battle with the spiders.

[Duma]

The swordsman felt the wind brush up against his hair. Slowly taking in the small sights of the Isles. He recalled he was to take his first trip here with another. He sighed softly. The air was crisp, clean, and with a strange lingering tinge of misty salt hanging in the air.

It was sad he wasn't going to be here long. The man was already packed and ready for his next job. Back on the Road to Lycia. His concentration was broken with a voice, calling out to him in the distance. He turned around to see a familiar white haired mercenary from long ago. A small grin emerged on his face. It broke the facade of seriousness he usually carried. It was good to see a familiar face.

"Vincent!" He called back.

"I suppose the feeling is mutual. I did not expect to see a familiar face here either." He gave the mercenary an affectionate punch to the shoulder.

"Oh I dunno.. maybe a year? A lot of stuff has happened since the Baels. Everything kind of runs together after a bit. Looks like you healed up just fine. Er.. you were bitten right? Or was that Kyle?" He was rambling and he knew it. He didn't care. He was happy to see him.

"So. What brings you here?" He gave the mercenary a once over. He did look different but the swordsman couldn't quite place it. Was it new armor? A new sword? Did he get taller? Duma didn't know.

[Vincent]

"Ouch." The punch did not particularly hurt but it was still a punch none the less. It was interesting how two fighters could meet for less than a day but forge a bond that they would remember forever; greeting like old friends. "No, I was not bitten, at least I don't recall being so. I did get slammed around though. You're one to talk about healing though. I heard the clerics saying you may not heal fully after that fight but you look just fine." He grinned.

If memory served Duma well he could tell the boy had a new scar under his left eye and perhaps less anger, like he had been freed of a heavy burden. Vincent in turn gave the man a one over as well. Was he always that much taller?

"I'm here on a job. I heard about men recruiting to travel to the far north by ship. I thought it would be a good chance to get some training and travel back to Illia again. Of course this is to help set up a colony so it will be rough with the cold early on." His gear and pack would seem to reveal his story to be true. He had warm blankets and a thick furry coat hanging out of the pack.

"Judging from the looks of your path you've already finished your business here. Are you going back to Lycia to fight those abominations again?" Vincent shuddered at the thought of it. He swore he never wished to face the creatures again after the Baels but alas the siege would have none of that.

[Duma]

"Sorry. I meant that punch to be lighter. Oh yeah. I spent weeks under Oglaf's care." He shuddered softly. Recalling the memories of the overly affectionate large lumberjack from the mining town.

"It was.. not pleasant. Ah. That's Right Illia is cold. Hey there's a town called Elksprings in Illia. They have hot springs there. Picked up some bars of soap made from animal fat, ashes, and pine oil." He paused for a moment. Thinking of anything else he did in Illia.

"Yes. I am. er. Heading back to Lycia. Or trying to. Well if those abominations come after me and my client. Then I will certainly come after them. I've been told so many tales of the walking dead. I hear there's a particularly fearsome bunch that operate a ghost ship. It might be a tall tale caused by the locals. But after the spiders. I question nothing." He rubbed his chest. The bones healed. But the memories never would.

"Hmm.." He touched Vincent's chin and tilted his head over to get a better look at the scar under his eye. An old habit.

"That's new. Good thing you didn't go blind. I recall that was the biggest worry my parents had when I got mine." He moved his hand back casually to his side.

"Colony huh? That is interesting. I do not know much about colonization. But.. I do know about training." He grinned.

"If you have the time. Perhaps we can spar. I always wanted to know how that lance-rever fared against my sword arm."

[Vincent]

Vincent could not help but feel like there was a joke hiding in the underlying tone at the mention of recovering with Oglaf. In fact as Duma recounted that part Vincent found a silly smirk creep across his face but he did manage to suppress a chuckle.

"Hot springs in Illia? I certainly wish I knew of those previously. Perhaps that would have sparred me of the cold a bit. But I hear we will be cut off from the rest of the world for a long time. You see we will be traveling by ship to get in and out. There is a team that is being sent to find ways of connecting it as a regular trade route though. Or so I was told. Still, sounds like a place to go."

"A ghost ship? I would not doubt it myself these days either." He visibly frowned at the idea of it and shuddered himself. What would keep a ghost ship afloat? Only the most foul of magics. Perhaps something akin to those shadows? No, best not to think of them. Those things were a darkness within the dark.

Breaking him from his thoughts was Duma tilting back his head. "What are you-?" He began slowly but had his answer soon enough. That was right. Duma had quite the large scar upon his face. "Heh, yeah. This one makes face scar number two. At this rate I'll either be mistaken for a bandit or respected as a resilient merc."

"Time to spar huh?" Vincent grinned. His journey was one to hone his skills, perhaps he could use this as a pre-marker. "You know the type of blade I wield? I'm impressed. Actually, I would love to test my mettle against you as well. As far as swordsman go, you are the most dedicated to the art that I have seen." Vincent proceeded to draw Phoenix Claw with his left hand before drawing Phoenix Heart into his right. One blade shown silver and the other was completely black metal with golden etching that formed like fire as the blade was drawn.

"Hold nothing back save the killing blow." A line reminiscent of his early duels but a line he carried even now.

[Duma]

"Of course I recognize your sword's brand. The blade and hilt give it away as one of the reaver weapons. Although I do not recall it being so.. lavish last time." The golden tint on the black blade left quite an impression on him. The color combination was pleasing to the eye but also very rare. Is that a magic sword? Oh. This is going to be good. The silver blade in his other hand was different then most silver swords. He found it difficult to wipe the smile off his face.

"I'm flattered you think so highly of me. Delegating my time to the sword has not been easy. But the was well worth it. I now have skills not.. normally seen." He put his pack aside.

"And it seems you have weapons I do not normally face." He slowly regained his composure. His mind started to focus. He took a moment to observe Vincent's stance. Dual wielders are usually very quick and have medium strength attacks. Attacks would be tricky. They could essentially block a blade from any angle. Duma would need to be cautious. He knew how to break through a dual wielder's defenses. But knowing how to do something and physically doing it are two different things.

He drew out his sword from his sheath. The iron sword had seen the swordsman through many difficult times. But Duma kept it in great shape. He knew the blade like the back of his own hand. He knew it's balance, length, and strengths. He took a few paces back to give some distance and took his traditional stance.

"Very well since you asked me not to hold back. Save for the deadly blow. I ask the same of you." He stared straight at Vincent. His light hearten friendly demeanor was gone. Focus. He steeled his nerves and braced himself.

"When you are ready."

[Vincent]

Vincent felt a surge of energy, a thrill of excitement. Battle was something he found quite pleasant under friendly circumstances. His stance was surprisingly defensive. The reaver was placed ahead of his body, almost in lieu of a shield. Phoenix heart was pulled back, the blade was fashioned for a wide strike. It was clear that Vincent had the intent of inviting the offensive.

"You say you have skills that are strange? Please, do not hesitate to show me. I will mark them into my memory, and then use them for myself." It was how he learned and refined his combat style. Unknown to him however was how, exceptional, the skills Duma had honed were.

Vincent eyed his opponent and circled him, his footsteps light and cautious. He needed to be capable of dodging just as much as defending. His opponent was far more skilled as a swordsman but Vincent had one advantage. Pure unadulterated unpredictability and a rough unrefined style.

'This man has an aura of inner strength boy, you'd best be ready for anything he throws at you. Given time, he could very well far exceed the likes of the assassin boy.' Phoenix Heart offered its own form of insight to Vincent. The very fact the blade offered note of the man gave Vincent cause to smirk. Very rarely did the blade speak to him and now it was for a simple duel.

"Alright, Duma. I won't underestimate you, nor will I hold back. I'll throw everything I have at you." He quickly spun off of his left, and forward, heel bringing Phoenix Heart at Duma in a back swing before continuing the assault with a more regular but horizontal swing of Phoenix Claw.

[Duma]

"Let's see if you can draw the skill out of me then." He spoke calmly as he continued to eye Vincent.

In one swift motion the white haired mercenary was heading for Duma with both his swords. Left. Forward. Backhand His mind quickly calculated his movements and prepared accordingly and quickly. Duma raised his sword up and began swinging in very clean and precise slashes. Quickly blocking the backhanded blow and raising his sword vertically to block the other oncoming one. The harsh clang of metal upon metal vibrated up the metal blade and into his wrist. Damn.

Attacking was going to be difficult. As he had to constantly be on guard for Vincent's other blade. He needed to keep defending until he could find an appropriate opening. If not he would have to make one. Duma wanted to get a little more accustomed to Vincent's style of fighting before striking back. Something in the back of his mind was telling him that Vincent had no proper style. The tinge in his hand told him everything felt too raw.

He let out a breath and went on the offensive. He took advantage of Vincent's forward momentum. He took a half jump back and swung the iron sword in a quick horizontal slash. Then quickly followed up with another diagonal slash. These two quick slashes were not meant to cause much harm. There was less strength behind them then his usual blow. No these quick hits would be what Duma would use to gauge how Vincent would defend himself. Then work out a means to attack with that knowledge.

[Vincent]

Vincent's speed was a clear advantage but Duma had no wasted movements. He countered the first swing which would knock the blade away allowing for his follow up to be a clean blow but the man was better than that. He only parried as much as needed and did not let the upper hand slip past him. As Vincent brought his blade down the clash created a reverberating twinge of metal on metal. 'He really is good.'

Duma had easily handled the first blows and now it was his turn to retaliate. With his quick speed Duma had made Vincent's blade slide down and off of his own as he put distance between the two. Catching his footing Vincent was in an awkward spot to defend or dodge as the next two swings came in.

The first was a horizontal strike that Vincent deemed best to continue his momentum and use it to duck the strike. The blade wizzed over his head as the sound of the swing sang songs of death with a whistle. He put his right leg out and kicked out toward Duma now as the diagonal slash came down. Using the momentum he crossed his blades in an X and let the sword land between them. Pulling the reaver down the hooked tip locked his sword against his.

If not for the extension of his arms making the lock weak as a whole he could have disarmed Duma but as it stood it served as a brief distraction to deliver a right elbow hook as he let the blades go of each other.

[Duma]

His sword was momentarily locked with Vincent's dual blades. Oh. That's a neat trick. Duma would be sure to keep this tactic locked away in his head for future reference. Another thing he learned was that Vincent was not afraid to use punches and kicks to gain the advantage. Good. Anything you can do to keep yourself alive.

Duma dodged the right hook with ease. And Vincent managed to let his swords go, which freed his blade. Duma quickly rolled out of the way in case of any other oncoming attacks. He contemplated grabbing his sheath and using it as a temporary weapon. But decided against it. His iron sword was long enough that it required both his hands to wield. Sure he could make occasional single handed blows with it but that wasn't his style. But perhaps It would be needed.

Vincent was a talented fighter and unpredictable. This was troubling to Duma as he was accustomed to fighting off very predictable opponents. Enraged Brigands, heavily armored knights, stealthy assassins, they all followed a distinct pattern that he had memorized. The weapons, style, and person would change, the pattern would not. There were variants of the patterns, but the main template still lingered within those variants.

But there was a weak point. At least when it came to the lock and key method that Vincent displayed. He could force his way through and break it. Landing a much needed blow. Duma managed to sneak a peek at Vincent's gauntlets. They were modified to be an effective weapon and he noticed the small knives. Throwing knives too. Ah. You are prepared for everything Vincent. You've grown much since the Baels. A small smile flashed across his face. Dismiss it man. You are in combat.

He quickly approached his white haired combatant. Determined to launch a small series of back to back diagonal slashes. At least that what he appeared like he was doing. His intention was to deliver one strike to act as a diversion. Feint, and attack again from another angle. If his blade got caught in the same hook maneuver again, he had a plan for it.

[Vincent]

Duma reeled back from the blow narrowly avoiding it before sliding his blade free of the weakened lock. He rolled away and quickly rose to his feet ready for more combat. What were his bones made of? Rubber? The man was quick and precise. He wasted no movements and rapidly returned with blows for blows.

His defenses, offences, and his maneuverability could all match him and potentially outdo him if he was not careful. Vincent himself was the only person he knew of to dual wield blades, and so that offered him a distinct advantage in most battles but Duma... he offered no openings, they had to be forced and capitalized upon. His first chance was missed. The next must not be.

As Duma silently analyzed Vincent, Vincent sparred a glance to the surroundings. They were in the woods on the main road. If he could lead Duma to the edge he could utilize the surroundings much easier. Perhaps even hook his way around the woods, just like with the Bael.

Duma's blade began to move like the wind itself. Vincent was accustomed to swift blades however and swayed to avoid as he stepped back with each strike. The temptation to lock his blades again was ever present but to use the same trick too soon would prove only costly. The first sway proved efficient but the second turned into a curved half-moon shape. Stepping back he was off-balanced yet again by Duma and in a predicament. The backwards motion however was not so easy to follow up upon.

In a desperate maneuver he dropped his blades at his feet and fell back with a break-fall before rolling and rising once more gauntleted hands, poised for combat and defense. Now should Duma charge he could use the trees to his advantage by quickly disappearing into their heights just as well as block his blade with his armor, though he was not so certain if the plating could repel the attack in its entirety.

[Duma]

The maneuver confused him. Vincent had wilingly dropped his weapons and prepared for hand to hand combat. He also gained distance. The pair had managed to take their fighting to the edge of the trees. It was a smart, but desperate move. No warrior willingly drops his weapon unless it's absolutely crucial for survival or the survival of others. This is clearly a trap of some kind. The swordsman mused as he kept his place by his rival's fallen blades. Duma knew Vincent carried knives. I'd have to look out for that. If I chase after him I run the risk of being ambushed in the trees. Then again, if Vincent was using the terrain to his advantage he could too. The trees would provide some much needed cover and he was adept at climbing and ambushing from above if need be.

With a flick of his wrist his blade was in a reversed position. The flatter but larger side of the blade would do well to deflect any throwing daggers Vincent might through. He kept himself in a defensive position out of instinct. But his curiosity was nagging at him. He wanted to chase after Vincent. To see what sort of tricks the mercenary had up his sleeve. I could use.. it. No. Not yet. The skill does not do well at a distance. He opted to flick his blade at the fallen swords thus furthering the distance between them and Vincent. Don't break focus. Wait for him to come to you. You still need the right opportunity to strike. And show him, it.

He kept his pose steady and his gaze fixed.

[Vincent]

Vincent was silent and shifting his feet to keep ready to move but Duma was silent and still. A breeze blew through the forests tossing leaves and Duma's hair aside. 'So he could read the trap. Not surprised.' Vincent watched and waited before letting off a soft sigh. "Well, I think we may be at a standstill. For better or worse, I think you have the patience to wait a long time." Vincent smirked practically declaring that he would attack soon if not immediately.

But nothing happened. Neither man moved for some time. Vincent was not going to let go of his one advantage. Suddenly Duma's eyes flickered for a brief moment. He looked to Vincent's swords. While not the intended reason it served him well to have dropped them. He charged quickly pouncing forward with his right fist drawn back and a battle cry on his lips. It was absurd but his mind recalled that bastard Borgus and what he said before he feinted him with a blast of magic. "SHINING!!!... FINGER!!!"

Vincent threw his arm forward like he was going to punch but threw his momentum into a roll leaping to Duma's off side rolling to grab hold of Phoenix Heart. As he recovered he needed to ensure he could get back and threw his dagger for the back of Duma's leg in the process. His quick rise was clumsy but he was on the opposite side now and he had a sword back. Phoenix Claw was sadly too far away.

The intensity of the fight could be felt by the spirit within Vincent's blade and the blade metal peeled back revealing a silver blade that glowed with a wispy blue light. The runes faded away and Vincent held it with both hands. Not his specialty but it would still be new to Duma. He cursed his fortune at having sacrificed his terrain advantage.

[Duma]

Duma didn't move and neither did Vincent. A breeze blew by Vincent muttered something about patience. Duma had a lot of patience when it came to battle. It was part of his style. Part of his training. His specialty was waiting for the right opportunity to strike at his opponents. He had perfected the art. He knew sooner or later opponents would grow impatient and strike. And those strikes were usually filled with errors for him to exploit.

"Patience.. is a virtue." He muttered under his breath. And Duma was the patron saint of patience. Vincent finally made a move towards him. The young man appeared to lunge forward for a punch.

"SHINGING FINGER!" The hell? Duma's thoughts were interrupted by Vincent's movement. He feinted the punch and went for his blade. Duma immediately suspected the dagger was on it's way and he was right. He quickly moved out the way. The dagger missed his legs and landed onto the ground. Too close. It bought his opponent enough time to grab his one of his swords. The blade started to glow with a magical light. His eyes widened a bit. He knew one of the swords were magic, but this was the first time in a long time the swordsman had to witness a magical weapon.

"Well.. I'll be damned."

"Where was this when we were fighting the Baels?" He joked. Then immediately went back into serious mode. He decided that now would be a good time to use his skill. His heart was pounding. Was this the effect of the sword? He did not know. All that he knew was that there was a good chance he was about to be hit with magic. Time to go on the offensive. He charged forward. He knew the other weapon was too far away for Vincent to use. So there was no chance of him doing the same hook maneuver as before. He felt something swelling inside of him. Vincent had switched his sword style too. He was handling the sword with both his hands. Which Duma took it as an advantage. Now. Now is the time!

In an instant he closed the distance between them. He swung. He was certain Vincent was going to block or parry this swing. That's what he wanted. He felt it, the hidden swing, an invisible diagonal slice that was nearly unblock able. His sword was still reversed so as to not to kill or maim Vincent.

[Vincent]

Vincent knew that now was the defining clash. Duma had felt out the fight enough and was on the offensive. 'I should have taken to the trees' he thought. Drawing his blade back by his face in the fashion of a myrmidon, Vincent drew his right leg back before rushing in to the final clash.

The two contenders locked eyes in a moment. The end was nigh and the two knew it. Like the epic tales one is told as a child, or in a tavern. Metal clashed with metal and there was a resounding ping and a force of pure power from both contenders.

Then there was more. BANG! A second impact came down against Vincent despite there being only one swing. The force caused Vincent's sword to be knocked against his body sending it to the side and then yet another force was felt. Three strikes for the price of one? Sheer madness. The third sent the blade spiraling out of Vincent's hand where it implanted into the ground several feet away. The blade returned to a pure black metal with no runes.

Vincent starred in awe at his blade. What just happened was... difficult to grasp but one thing was certain, it was his defeat. Placing his hands on his hips he leaned back and laughed. "I think if we get an opportunity, I would like to spar against you again. And... maybe you can show me how you did that while you're at it?" Vincent had a silly grin as he shook his head disbelievingly. "I got whipped this time." He held out a hand to offer a victorious shake.