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Post by Clair Feldsky on Oct 17, 2012 21:01:41 GMT -6
The low drone of the crowds sounded outside as Clair stood near her gate, waiting for the announcement and the signal. She checked the sword in its sheath strapped to her back for the third time in three minutes, sighing as it once again raised and then dropped back into the scabbard slung across her back. Ideally she wouldn't need or use it. It was just there as insurance. Her "real" weapon was in her hand already. The lance was actually decent work. Good reach. Good weight. Good balance. She hefted it for a moment, before tapping the haft down on the ground again.... Good solid material.
[Red]"Returning in round two, are two combatants ready to dazzle your eyes with their superior agility once again. In the south gate, The Rising Lance enters the battlefield after showing up the Night Lily!"[/Red]
Clair let the arena worker open the gate for her and walked slowly out onto the field. She didn't move with the same saunter as many of the arena fighters she'd seen move. She was straight and steady instead. This wasn't someplace she was overly likely to show off. She could save that for sparring matches among friends, like Richter, Delia, or Bennett. The crowd erupting into cheers around her did gain notice, but it came off as more of a bother than anything else. Fighting in the arena defied explanation for Clair. On one hand, she enjoyed the attention, and testing herself against her opponents was something she could appreciate. She also hated parts of the game aspect of the tournament though. She couldn't decide her position on it, but she recognized that ultimately it made no difference. As she stopped, she pushed those thoughts aside and looked to her opponent.
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Post by Rayl Torien on Oct 20, 2012 13:48:15 GMT -6
Rayl managed to find himself a seat up front...He'd also managed to forget the real reason he was at the arena. He was impressed with Claire's footwork, especially considering the last time he'd seen here fight she wasn't as skilled. If anything though, she was probably better on foot than he was. When the gate opened Rayl stood up to applaud her entrance before quickly sitting back down. He'd yet to find Richter, but he was certain the swordsman was in the stands watching as well.
Leaning in closer, his focus then turned to the opposite gate. After that last match, he was certain Claire would have a much tougher opponent...right?
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Post by Valcrist on Oct 21, 2012 6:26:56 GMT -6
Valcrist took a deep breath, he knew who his opponent was, and he knew that it was a crapshoot to even have a hope of victory. Clair was... well to be completely honest, when they first met in Ilia he didn't think much of her. Not in a bad way, he actually liked her, she seemed more relatable then Richter. A girl about his age in the military, his mind never seemed to connect her position with her skill until seeing it first hand. It wasn't just the battle with the bandits, it was also the following expedition she formed at a moment's notice when Valcrist was still reeling and that match she just had before. She wield the lance with frightful skill, and was just as swift as Valcrist while still having the benefit of body armor. This wasn't going to be a fair match, and it would be best to turn away right now but... No. Valcrist stood there, the Lost Swordsman swallowed up his apprehension and fear.
He wanted to fight, even if it was hopeless. "Returning in round two, are two combatants ready to dazzle your eyes with their superior agility once again. In the south gate, The Rising Lance enters the battlefield after showing up the Night Lily!"
His hand gently touched the handle of his blades, biting his lip in anticipation. She entered the battlefield, so... seriously. She didn't seem to be enjoying this like some people. She moved with the destination in mind, not the journey. She wasn't about to give him any mercy, he could see that already. "And at the north gate..." The announcer began, signing that now was the time to bury those (completely justified) worries.
"The Lost Swordsman returns after his surprising turnabout against Gravedigger Yorick!" The gate screeched open, the light of the arena pouring into the masked man's face, squinting as he walked forward. His gait was measured and deliberate without a wasted move, just like his opponents. He stared at across the field at her, taking her in, his hand not even on his weapons yet, waiting for the sign to begin.
"Two speed fiends squaring off in a battle of skill! Begin!"
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Post by Clair Feldsky on Oct 25, 2012 13:16:23 GMT -6
Clair watched her opponent's stride out into the field. A bit of leather armor on his shoulders was the extent of the gear she took note of, but she was aware of his first match. He'd fought well, turning the tables on heavy hitting wyvern rider. She wouldn't have the same range of attacks available to her that the winged warbeasts had, but that would also force Swordsman to approach much more directly. She made for a much smaller target than a wyvern, after all.
"You've got some pretty good moves, Swordsman." The blond haired lancewoman took a step forward and dropped into ready stance, lowering the point of her weapon to about head level on her opponent. It was a good defensive stance to take when preparing for a match. She crossed one foot in front of the other for a moment, gliding forward and prepared to engage, though still several paces outside of reach.
"Juking past that Wyvern's guard took some guts.... Don't expect it to be any easier to get past me." She smirked a bit, meeting the eyes of the masked individual with with a challenge. She kind of wished she could fight him from atop Corona. That would be a more true test of her full skills. He was nearby, she knew. Perched atop the arena's walls with the rest of her small squadron of pegasus knights. They were supposed to be watching the crowds and city surroundings, but it was hard to imagine Delia not distracted by the fights going on far beneath her.
Clair would probably never know. She couldn't see, and was too buy inspecting her opponent to care.
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Post by Valcrist on Oct 26, 2012 12:38:49 GMT -6
She talked, nothing particularly important. A little bit of praise, and a little bit of taunt. The words shot at him like an arrow, only to bounce off like there wasn't a thing said. He stood there, weapon not drawn nor in a fighting stance. Standing like any normal person would, as if he was simply waiting around for something to happen. It was arrogant, how he basically ignored her in her entirety. Like it wasn't a fight, like she wasn't talking to him. The masked swordsman stood in silence doing nothing but look at her, but his eyes... His eyes told another story, the way they darted all around, soaking in every single detail. How she stood, how she held her weapon, how her stance was, which foot she was favoring, which hand she was dominate in, she hadn't even moved but he was already taking in ever possible idea and thought he could. Trying to amass a treasure trove of observations, that perhaps he could use to buy off a chance of victory.
She didn't charge, and neither did he. Despite the fact the battle had started a while ago, neither made a move. A quiet hush began to surround the arena, whisper and snickers, laughs and confusion. All the matches until now where chaotic from the get go, but this one was silent. Like it was building for something, the silence a crescendo for the upcoming storm. He moved, slightly. His stance shifting, placing a single hand on the hilt of his scimitar, the masked swordsman continued to scan his foe. She was... not perfect. No one person was, but she was impressive. Very much so, he could tell that much from here. This would be easy, not for him but for her. He was barely a threat, he was barely anything to her. Nothing but an ant crawling up the trunk of a tree.
His eyes shut for a moment, but opened, renewing their gaze. He would not win, he could not win. In the end, however, that didn't matter. This was a battle like any other, and someone who lives only for winning isn't someone who is actually living. He would fight, and he would learn. Perhaps he would die, it didn't matter. This was the way of the warrior.
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Post by Clair Feldsky on Oct 30, 2012 21:26:43 GMT -6
No reply but that of cold analysis was forthcoming from the Lost Swordsman. In sense, this still sent a message about how he fought, and who he was. His stance was that of someone swift of foot, and it looked as though he'd be able to explode into movement at a moment's notice. The Ilian had seen what he'd done in his first match. Letting her guard down would be to afford the swordsman all he needed to win. One good clean hit was all it took sometimes. The human body seemed remarkably frail at times. This was why she had practiced her form so long and hard. Learning efficiency, precision, and speed were one of the best ways to avoid major harm to those who engaged in close proximity fighting, but she had taken it and made it a science. Not just how to control her own movements for maximum efficiency and limited openess, but also how to prompt enemies into weak positions.... It wasn't going to be a simple matter to trick Swordsman into a mistep.... She saw his hand shift to the handle of his sword, and her head tilted to the side slightly, as though watching something interesting. She stepped forward with one foot, smoothly transferring her weapon's point to the other leading hand as she went. She was in the mirror image of where she'd been a moment ago, still keeping the haft of her spear crossed across her body, and the tip in chest to head height on her target. She added a slight weave to the point of her lance, keeping it in a light, fluid motion. Stationary targets were easier to hit, so she wasn't going to leave her weapon open to attack.
The crowd continued it's quiet murmur in the background. Some were getting impatient. Some who knew what to look for were waiting patiently to see how the fight would kick off., but Clair and the swordsman knew the truth. The battle was already begun. The action just needed to catch up to the tactical appraisal.
And that was when Clair struck. lunging and winging her lance out towards the hand grasping the weapon, then following through with a swipe towards the main body once it reached it's full extension. She wasn't counting on those moves though, recovering with a sideways hop and circling the opponent.
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Post by Richter Abend on Nov 1, 2012 21:02:12 GMT -6
Truth be told, after seeing his overwhelming underdog victory against the wyvern rider, Richter had wanted to fight the Lost Swordsman if just to get a measure of his own strength. He had defeated the Ebon Blade, who had possessed a similar if not more aggressive sword style, but there was still that doubt that the Lost Swordsman might be hiding some more skill under that mask than even Richter had initially appraised.
He was rooting for Clair as well, but truth be told he possessed a great interest in the masked man. He had seen Clair's fighting style many times, and he knew her quirks and personality well enough to make a strong guess as to how she would tackle this next fight. Right now she was the measuring stick he'd measure this swordsman against. He was confident Clair would win, but was hoping the Lost Swordsman would take the time to surprise him.
But as the two fighters met in the middle and Clair said something to her opponent Richter couldn't make out from his position in the side pits, the disguised Ilian took a quick break from watching the introduction to purvey the stands. It was an action done absent-mindedly, as he didn't expect to actually spot anything of interest, and thus Richter was surprised when he spotted a familiar face in the stands not to far from him.
Rayl?
The Ilian's vision narrowed in on the face. It was bearded, and the body on which it sat wasn't dressed in the signature blue armor Richter had become used to, but that was definitely Rayl. The Ilian couldn't help but wonder why he was here. The easy answer was "to watch the tournament" but being the suspicious person he was, Richter figured that wasn't the answer. Still, it was nice to see another dependable face considering the nature of his current mission.
Richter then noticed that a couple men in the crowd had grown irritated, and turned his attention back to the fight at hand. By the time he did, Clair had already begun swinging, and was taking the first move against the Lost Swordsman.
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Post by Valcrist on Nov 3, 2012 22:29:13 GMT -6
The spear thrust like a bolt of lightning and he couldn't even see when it began or ended, the piercing steel slicing through the air so cleanly that it was no question what such a thrust would do to him. He moved before she even attacked, knowing just where she would strike. A quick moment of vulnerability from him, an opening he knew she'd take. It was all he could do, he couldn't outspeed her like all the others. The swing of her lance was too swift, too accurate. He could barely move out of the way in time even knowing how it would come in advance. She had the advantage in speed, skill, defense, strength, range, and experience. He had absolutely nothing outside of a few tricks up his sleeve.
His only real hope would be to catch her off guard and get a lucky hit in. Surprise was his only weapon, but it could be a deadly one. Valcrist knew just where to hit to bypass her armor, but he needed a clear shot. If he could get that shot, he could hurt her critically. As soon as she was done striking, she moved a sidestep trying to circle him. He drew his blade in an instant, the grey steel shining in the noon sun. He couldn't afford to leave it sheathed any longer, she wasn't like other fighters. The drawing of the blade can be a style all in it's own, but it wouldn't work on someone like her. He needed to give all he had, and then some.
He didn't strike yet, that would be suicide. She was out of his range, the length of the spear making it near impossible to get close without taking a serious injury. He had no shield to block it, and no armor to protect from it. He was running around in, what could basically be called clothing. He kept on his toes though, following her as she moved, determined to not let her behind him. Still, he stood rooted on the spot, not retreating and not pursuing. Waiting for her to make another move.
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Post by Clair Feldsky on Nov 6, 2012 14:47:16 GMT -6
Swordsman stepped away before she even struck, moving him just outside her attack range. It wasn't a surprise that she failed to connect. It had been a longshot at best but it had provoked a bit of movement and started the fight. The weight of the lance trying to pull her off balance was counteracted by her movement away from him as she began to circle. As he drew his blade, she watched his poise. They weren't trading moves back and forth. To others, it would look like there was pause in the fight as she made her careful and concise sidesteps. To her though, it was all one long attack. A single sequence of manuevers which culminated in the first solid hit against her foe. She hadn't reached the end of it yet.
He was playing carefully. She had he reach, and he wasn't going to risk crossing her attack range without a plan. She didn't really want to risk making herself vulnerable either. Swords didn't provide very good leverage against spears, which was a major advantage that she had, but a skilled fighter could still eek just enough strength out in order to gain an advantage. This was why she went for advantage instead of directly for him in her next strike.
She stepped in. Not directly, but only cutting the corner a bit on her circling pattern and striking out with the lance in an arc similar to her first. Not at him this time though, but at his weapon instead. If he moved his blade out of the way, she could try to press the assault on him instead. Her attack was still a bit long, and slightly awkward. She thought she was prepared for that though.
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Post by Valcrist on Nov 6, 2012 19:30:11 GMT -6
There was a lull in the action, or what little they were doing to be called action. They appraised each other once more, it was probably making more then one patron upset that most of their battle consisted of them simply staring at each other. This wasn't a battle of blades like most other bouts, this was a battle of styles. She had a defensive style, much like his, and when the two met it consisted almost entirely of watching one another and waiting for the other to mess up. Only they were both too skilled in their own disciplines for that to happen, so instead it becomes a waiting match to see who moves first. The lost swordsman was stubborn though, he absolutely refused to move unless he saw any chance for his self. Otherwise he was more then in trouble, he could very easily be dead.
She continued to circle him, sidestepping in a wide arc. Still in range that if she wanted, she could attack him. She wouldn't though, she wouldn't go right ahead into an attack without some kind of opening. The question was if she would act to create that opening, or simply wait for him to make it himself?
His question was answered when he saw a sudden change in her movements. Cutting the corner she usually circled, he knew it the beginning of her next move. She swung in a wide arc once more, and he had less then a second to decide his move, a fluid and swift movement of his hands, with no wasted movements, he blocked the strike.
In his right hand was a sword that was stained black, a resounding collision of steel on steel filled the air and left a loud ringing in his ears. It almost felt as though his entire arm went numb from the strike, filled with far more force then it had any right to have. Swinging in an arc was more accurate, but it was also more dangerous. It was much easier to block, while a thrust was almost impossible unless you held a shield in hand. Sliding his blade along the length of the spear, he moved forward with his black blade in hand and his grey blade riding along the length of the polearm. She could swing again, targeting lower, or she could pull back and thrust, either way it would take longer then it would take Valcrist to rush in and swing his second weapon. He swung Fang with all the strength he could muster, he wouldn't get another chance like this!
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Post by Clair Feldsky on Nov 7, 2012 18:31:19 GMT -6
As weapons clashed, Clair exalted while growing alarmed at the same time. She'd swung with the intention of clashing weapons. As long as they were in contact, she knew exactly where his sword was, and could feel the pressure (or lack of presure) from its direction. It was a useful way of keeping tabs on your opponent's maneuvers. He'd pulled a second weapon on her though, and it was on it's way. It was the same gambit she'd seen in the Swordsman's match. The Wyvern Rider had used it to turn back the Swordmaster's kill shot. Now she was having it used on her just the same!
Options were limited with how they'd suddenly gotten right up in each other's faces. Time was non-existant. There was simply knowing and responding, and right now she knew that her opponent was quick, calculating, and precise. He wasn't being as aggressive as he could be though. She also knew that she could back off, or try to throw a strike at him, but that sword he was swinging was quicker than her footwork. There was only one attack that she could think of that was quick enough to fit here, and she didn't do it often. In this case though, it would require only a slight shift.
Shoving back against the blades with both hands gripping the haft of her lance, she brought the crossbar of her weapon up and pushed it straight at her opponents face, yelling for added effect.
"Hahh!" It wasn't the long yell which expelled the entire lung which so many warriors loved to charge with. It was a loud and sharp sound though. No doubt about that. Double fists wrapped around the spear's haft slammed out as she drove in. Somewhere in there she felt impacts running through her arms, but the shuddering force hid exactly what was happening until she found herself stumbling backwards, away from the impact.
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Post by Jya on Nov 7, 2012 22:05:28 GMT -6
Jya had entered the arena with relative ease as a guard indicated towards her to a seat relatively close to the spectacle. The room wasn't exactly all that big but it was enough for her squeeze by to sit down. It was a real shame that she had not arrived earlier to see what all the excitement was about this so called tournament. Even though she was sitting properly, it didn't help her view as so many people wanted to lean closer for a view.
All her eyes could make out was the back of spectators and the patches of ground. She let out a sigh, she had no choice but to squeeze and nudge a little so she could see what was going. At the moment she popped her head out into view, she saw why people were excited. It was two skilled combatants fighting one another for other's entertainment. At first she disbelieved it but that was exactly what was happening here. She couldn't help but feel a bit electrified by the crowd's excitement. There was no harm to such entertainment but it was definitely not what she was used to, seeing as everyday is a matter of survival.
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Post by Valcrist on Nov 12, 2012 2:10:42 GMT -6
He could of swore he heard his neck crack. How could he have missed something so simple, so obvious, perhaps he over thought it. What a stupid thing for someone to miss, especially him as a blacksmith. The metal struck it's tune, the barbaric yelp of his foe ringing in his ears as it drove in. She used the spear's handle, how could he have not seen that coming? It was too much of a surprise, he couldn't even block, all he could do was run right into it like a fool. The shaft smashing in his face, sending his head reeling back so hard that he could of swore he heard it crack. His nose bloodied from the liberally applied force to the face, and his face mask ripped from it's hold. Hanging from his left ear straight down, only half of it coming loose. His face probably being too damaged to easily recognized.
He stumbled back, blood running from his nose all over his face. She probably broke it. There was no way his face could take that harsh of a hit and not have something break. He swallowed his shouts, letting out a strained muffled groan. Trying to get his footing again, his eyes watering in pain. Still, an adrenaline burned through his veins like acid, his skin feeling hot as lava as the blood pumped. He wasn't too far away, he wasn't going to let a mistake end him like that. It felt like such a long time, but it couldn't of been more then a few seconds! He rushed forward, this time more aware of his surroundings and focusing on more then his own strike. He knew going aggressive would bite him, but he had hoped it would of bit her too. He closed the distance easily, but put himself in harms way to do so. He couldn't give up so easily! He bet everything on that last strike, he couldn't let what little advantage he held slip away!
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Post by Clair Feldsky on Nov 14, 2012 21:00:59 GMT -6
Clair stumbled back a couple of steps from the impact, nearly tripping over herself as she tried to recover. Direct smashing wasn't a usual part of her repertoire of attacks for exactly this reason. When she lacked control in a situation like that, it seemed like she was left flailing more often than not. Control was what stabilized her, both physically and mentally.
She recovered her feet and saw that her opponent had taken the blow full to the face, suffering much worse than her lapse in footing. She leveled her lance towards him again, uncaring that it was still a little unstable. Better to have it between them than not, even with him reeling! She felt her feet shift, anchoring her in place. It was a move more for her mental benefit than physical, as though to reassure her that she'd managed to straighten herself out.
She searched her opponent's eyes as she saw blood pouring down his face. All she could see was that his skin was unusually dark, but that didn't provide much relevant information to her. All she gained was that it didn't look like he was yielding.
Well, I'm certainly not about to throw in the flag! As she thought this, the falcoknight gritted her teeth and shoved off her back foot, rotating the tip of her lance in a circular pattern as she closed distance. The blur of motion was only a distraction as she stepped in, aiming to swat one of his blades aside with the end of her lance before allowing circular momentum to bring her weapon back around to a valid target for a jab. Where precisely that would be, she wouldn't know until they tangled.
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Post by Richter Abend on Nov 15, 2012 22:12:38 GMT -6
Not much was happening, but although most in the crowd wouldn't be able to see it, the fight was progressing quickly. As he had made apparent in the last match, the masked swordsman preferred to attack only when the perfect opportunity presented itself, but unlike the gravedigger, Clair was much more controlled in her offense. Richter knew that first hand. Her strikes were calculated and precise, and she wasted little time attack for its own sake.
And oddly enough, it seemed the masked knew it. He had dodged Clair's first blow, and had attempted to counter her second unusually quickly. He had failed, however, and Clair had responded with a third strike to the man's face which caused a fair amount of blood. After last match's performance Richter couldn't help but feel a bit underwhelmed at the masked swordsman's less that stellar performance, but then again, he was going up against one of the best lance fighters Richter knew.
Precision against speed. This wasn't going to be a long fight, not at all, but Richter was eager to see it's conclusion.
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