Further from the jousting arena was a large circle fenced off around which many folks gathered around. Sword fighting was always a favoured event to see by the peasants and attracted many of them at once. Each side of the circle had a fence gate where the fighters could enter through. The announcer, a rather short but stout Dwarf was shouting at the people around."Gather 'round, lads 'n lasses! Now here's some action y'all love to see! From all boarders o' the world the finest swordfighters have gathered to duke it out just fer your entertainment!" The audience cheered loudly and excitedly.
The fighters would have their own tents to prepare themselves in. Here too was a flag depicting who would fight who. Inside Vos Valkear's tent was a heavily armoured Hobgoblins getting prepared by a young Minotaur squire. His armour looked thick and black with red markings covering his full helmet and chestplate. Kharka the Black was this fighter's name, apparently an expert in the use of a bastard swords. This one refused to wear a shield. Kharka simply stood there, waiting until the horn would blow and he was to come out.
The fighters would have their own tents to prepare themselves in. Here too was a flag depicting who would fight who. Inside Vos Valkear's tent was a heavily armoured Hobgoblins getting prepared by a young Minotaur squire. His armour looked thick and black with red markings covering his full helmet and chestplate. Kharka the Black was this fighter's name, apparently an expert in the use of a bastard swords. This one refused to wear a shield. Kharka simply stood there, waiting until the horn would blow and he was to come out.
His Highness, the Crown Prince Nathaniel Tynian himself had entered this event, eager to test his blades against the champions the other kingdoms could bring forth to win glory for themselves. Much to the exasperation and worry of his various aides and advisers. The young (to his people anyway) prince had brushed aside their concerns with a scowl, proclaiming, "If other people in the camp are going to win glory and honour for our kingdom, then I'm not about to sit around and just watch when I can win some too!"
He was sat in his tent preparing himself for the fighting to come, and rather looking forward to it. He'd never done something like this before, and he wanted to see how he stacked up against skilled opponents with more combat experience than he had. He was certainly expecting them to play by different rules than he was used to, but he wasn't overly concerned. His mentor and instructor in the arts of war had been very thorough in his education and he'd had it beaten (literally) into him just how unfair people would fight in a real battle. He had a few scars to prove it too.
So he sat, and waited, meditating to try and bring himself into that state of calm and oneness with his weapons that most Terelain warriors sought to achieve. He had a feeling that the fights to come would be... very interesting indeed.
He was sat in his tent preparing himself for the fighting to come, and rather looking forward to it. He'd never done something like this before, and he wanted to see how he stacked up against skilled opponents with more combat experience than he had. He was certainly expecting them to play by different rules than he was used to, but he wasn't overly concerned. His mentor and instructor in the arts of war had been very thorough in his education and he'd had it beaten (literally) into him just how unfair people would fight in a real battle. He had a few scars to prove it too.
So he sat, and waited, meditating to try and bring himself into that state of calm and oneness with his weapons that most Terelain warriors sought to achieve. He had a feeling that the fights to come would be... very interesting indeed.
Drake's preparations were simple: Prepare his Azmerrach-steel broadsword, swinging the incredibly light three-foot sword in a small circle, do a couple training exercises, and strap on his gauntlets. The hand print of the Archaian High King decorated his armor in an azure paint, standing stark against the bright white gleam of his chestplate.
The gleam in his eye, painting a portrait of the ferocity of Archaian generals, was the same spark that often was enough to terrify Southland rebels into running for their mothers.
Speaking into the air, Drake mused.
"Nar ste eje tien sayoch erom dyach pyr meche harro Archaianis... What a shame," he finished his comment in a traders' language. "I wonder who I will fight today? I hope it will be a challenging opponent."
The gleam in his eye, painting a portrait of the ferocity of Archaian generals, was the same spark that often was enough to terrify Southland rebels into running for their mothers.
Speaking into the air, Drake mused.
"Nar ste eje tien sayoch erom dyach pyr meche harro Archaianis... What a shame," he finished his comment in a traders' language. "I wonder who I will fight today? I hope it will be a challenging opponent."
Fella's sabatons carry his form into the arena, his right hand at his side, and his left hand holding a dull, white-crystal shield. It was fairly small shield, and truly did not cover much more than a buckler would. Fella's form stood within the arena, his dull, crystal-like armor un-moving. Fella's square-like helmet drifts its gaze to the left, then to the right.
His right hand clasps the handle of his blade, drawing his blade into the air. Fella holds the dull, white-crystal blade up high, before flicking it towards his side, the tip pointed downward.
His right hand clasps the handle of his blade, drawing his blade into the air. Fella holds the dull, white-crystal blade up high, before flicking it towards his side, the tip pointed downward.
Tez sat on a simple canvas and wood chair awaiting for his event to be called, the sword fight. He was accompanied only by the High Priestess Requilla, his girlfriend. "...And remember, try not to kill any of the other competitors..." she went on as she had been for the past 30 minutes or so.
"I know..." was all he replied. It was all he ever replied with when she got like this, sure she had to be concerned for everyone else - that was one of the duties of a priestess. But she was never worried about him, sometimes he wished she would be. Requilla just continued to go on and on, Tez eagerly awaited when he would be called - or at least when the first match would start.
Nearby at the back of the tent his sword was starting to glow and pulsate with built up and contained energies, as if it was ready to be used again after years of collecting dust on Tez's back.
"I know..." was all he replied. It was all he ever replied with when she got like this, sure she had to be concerned for everyone else - that was one of the duties of a priestess. But she was never worried about him, sometimes he wished she would be. Requilla just continued to go on and on, Tez eagerly awaited when he would be called - or at least when the first match would start.
Nearby at the back of the tent his sword was starting to glow and pulsate with built up and contained energies, as if it was ready to be used again after years of collecting dust on Tez's back.
It didn't take long before the fighters were all given a list of who would fight who. Each fighter was given a representative who would announce their chosen fighter as they seemed fit. Kharka seemed to dislike his. The boy was too short and his voice too squicky to make any sort of impact. But it couldn't be helped. By what he was supposed to fight, Kharka didn't figure he'd be facing anyone worthy. Of all the high names announced, he's to fight Johanna the Bright of Islas Del Nieve. Bah, an Islander. This was probably not going to be difficult. He was not the first go to, though. That honour was given to the crown prince of Terel'Liren.
The other fighters were given their adversary as well:
- Tez of Ahuachtli versus Fella of Coronet
- Drake Mackeely of Archaia versus Nathaniel Tynian of Terel'Liren
The crowd was getting restless. They want some action!
The other fighters were given their adversary as well:
- Tez of Ahuachtli versus Fella of Coronet
- Drake Mackeely of Archaia versus Nathaniel Tynian of Terel'Liren
The crowd was getting restless. They want some action!
Tez sighed with relief as his name was called, finally he could do battle again. "Did you bring Xibalba's shroud?" Tez suddenly said, effectively cutting of Requilla from speaking further.
"Y-y-yes," Requilla said as if taken aback by what Tez had said, she felt a sort of de javu from what he had said and how he had said it. "-Direct from the Pantheon's deepest chambers." she said.
Tez held out his hand as she took out a smoky grey cloth that felt as soft as down but as light as string. The fabric was so thin and delicate looking it appeared as if would be a simple task to rend it in half. Tez took it and walked over to his blade at the back of the tent. In one swift motion he had picked up the blade and wrapped the edges completely in the long shroud.
Tez held up his mighty sword wrapped in the fabric to see if he had missed a spot, if he had it would most certainly end in a tragic death of a fellow combatant. Xibalba began to vibrate faintly in Tez's grasp, as if from deep within the sword something or someone was screaming in rage by the action of being covered in the shroud.
"Xibalba is angry with me..." Tez said as he strapped the sword to his back and exited the tent. Requilla went to her knees and quickly began to recite a prayer for the protection of the other combatants.
Tez looked across the arena towards the man in white crystal armor, he didn't reach for Xibalba yet. That could wait.
"I wish you a good battle but I am afraid I will not allow you to surpass me." Tez said to Fella who stood not more than 20 paces away.
"Y-y-yes," Requilla said as if taken aback by what Tez had said, she felt a sort of de javu from what he had said and how he had said it. "-Direct from the Pantheon's deepest chambers." she said.
Tez held out his hand as she took out a smoky grey cloth that felt as soft as down but as light as string. The fabric was so thin and delicate looking it appeared as if would be a simple task to rend it in half. Tez took it and walked over to his blade at the back of the tent. In one swift motion he had picked up the blade and wrapped the edges completely in the long shroud.
Tez held up his mighty sword wrapped in the fabric to see if he had missed a spot, if he had it would most certainly end in a tragic death of a fellow combatant. Xibalba began to vibrate faintly in Tez's grasp, as if from deep within the sword something or someone was screaming in rage by the action of being covered in the shroud.
"Xibalba is angry with me..." Tez said as he strapped the sword to his back and exited the tent. Requilla went to her knees and quickly began to recite a prayer for the protection of the other combatants.
Tez looked across the arena towards the man in white crystal armor, he didn't reach for Xibalba yet. That could wait.
"I wish you a good battle but I am afraid I will not allow you to surpass me." Tez said to Fella who stood not more than 20 paces away.
Nathaniel liked the boy sent to introduce him, he was young yes but he had a serious air about him, a calm and collected manner. He would do well under pressure. The young prince donned the flexible plate armour unique to his people, the metal was a faintly blue-tinged grey and was very thin and light but still strong enough to weather the storms of battle.
He had decided to forgo a helm, and instead simply wore a silver circlet upon his brow with an amethyst inset into its centre, "I will not be suing the full list of my names and titles for this. It would take far too long, and in any case... this is a time of sport and fun, not to be weighted down by such dreary things. A simple introduction will be sufficient I think. I mean to make these people respect me for my skill, not because of who I was sired by."
Soon enough Nathaniel entered the field, the banner of his kingdom proudly flying from his side of the arena, he smiled slightly and gave a shallow bow to Drake in greeting as the boy assigned to him introduced him, "Nathaniel, Son of Erisad Siimyera'ina, of the House of Tynian and the Taemiri Bloodline. By declaration of the king, heir to the Lion Throne of Terel'Liren."
Nathaniel drew both of his swords, in his left hand was Anhuin, Honour, and in his right hand was Gerenan, Duty. The twin blades of the Terelain Monarchy passed down through the family for at least thirteen thousand years and if legend was true, even older than that. The two swords shimmered when they caught the light, the sound they made as they cut through the air like singing, "An honour to meet you on the honourable field, Drake of Archaia. I very much look forward to testing my blades against your own. I hope to provide a worthy challenge."
He had decided to forgo a helm, and instead simply wore a silver circlet upon his brow with an amethyst inset into its centre, "I will not be suing the full list of my names and titles for this. It would take far too long, and in any case... this is a time of sport and fun, not to be weighted down by such dreary things. A simple introduction will be sufficient I think. I mean to make these people respect me for my skill, not because of who I was sired by."
Soon enough Nathaniel entered the field, the banner of his kingdom proudly flying from his side of the arena, he smiled slightly and gave a shallow bow to Drake in greeting as the boy assigned to him introduced him, "Nathaniel, Son of Erisad Siimyera'ina, of the House of Tynian and the Taemiri Bloodline. By declaration of the king, heir to the Lion Throne of Terel'Liren."
Nathaniel drew both of his swords, in his left hand was Anhuin, Honour, and in his right hand was Gerenan, Duty. The twin blades of the Terelain Monarchy passed down through the family for at least thirteen thousand years and if legend was true, even older than that. The two swords shimmered when they caught the light, the sound they made as they cut through the air like singing, "An honour to meet you on the honourable field, Drake of Archaia. I very much look forward to testing my blades against your own. I hope to provide a worthy challenge."
Drake, like nathaniel, opted to not wear a helmet, but his chestplate was rather strong and had a neck guard. His armor was simple: Chestplate and shoulders, gauntlets, belt, shins and boots of flexible Azmerrach (a very strong blue-colored steel) plate armor, enameled white and augmented by silver-iron alloy chain mail. Drake gave his sword an experimental swing and saluted with it casually to Nathaniel.
"Hello, sir. I can only hope the same of you."
Drake's sword was modified for this battle: A touch smaller and lighter by far than the standard officers' broadsword. He extended it, prepared for combat. His herald-boy announced:
"Sir Drake MacKeely, General of the Fourth Sword Legion and Warrior of Archaia, fifteenth in line for the throne through office."
"Hello, sir. I can only hope the same of you."
Drake's sword was modified for this battle: A touch smaller and lighter by far than the standard officers' broadsword. He extended it, prepared for combat. His herald-boy announced:
"Sir Drake MacKeely, General of the Fourth Sword Legion and Warrior of Archaia, fifteenth in line for the throne through office."
Fella's form stood, his form perfectly still. Even the metal covering his chest stood still, the sounds of breathing unheard. Fella's helmet remained staring towards nothing, the sunlight glistening faintly against his armor.
When the male spoke, Fella's sabaton lifted upward, placing it pointed towards the male. His form shifts towards the male, standing perfectly still. Fella's left sabaton placed itself a foot behind the right.
He would stand there, unless the opponent was carrying or using something with innate magic. If that were so, Fella's helmet would shift towards it, a low sound escaping his helm. It was the sound of a man's voice, but as if his lips were sewn shut; a sound that grew steadily louder, tinted by the full armor casing.
When the male spoke, Fella's sabaton lifted upward, placing it pointed towards the male. His form shifts towards the male, standing perfectly still. Fella's left sabaton placed itself a foot behind the right.
He would stand there, unless the opponent was carrying or using something with innate magic. If that were so, Fella's helmet would shift towards it, a low sound escaping his helm. It was the sound of a man's voice, but as if his lips were sewn shut; a sound that grew steadily louder, tinted by the full armor casing.
The prince smiled again, it seems like his first opponent would be a worthy one. He shifted his grip on his twin swords slightly, "Then let us put on a show, sir. These people came to see mastery of arms and it behoves us to provide it to them!"
Nathaniel darted forwards, his left-hand blade flashing forward in a tightly-controlled lunge, testing the Archaian's guard, his right-hand sword drawn back ready to defend against a counter attack. Sparks would certainly fly from the blow, whether it struck the metal of his opponent's armour or his blade.
Since it was only a testing strike, Nathaniel would try to withdraw quickly, eyes warily watching for an opening in his rival's guard.
Nathaniel darted forwards, his left-hand blade flashing forward in a tightly-controlled lunge, testing the Archaian's guard, his right-hand sword drawn back ready to defend against a counter attack. Sparks would certainly fly from the blow, whether it struck the metal of his opponent's armour or his blade.
Since it was only a testing strike, Nathaniel would try to withdraw quickly, eyes warily watching for an opening in his rival's guard.
Whoever or whatever this entity who was called Fella was he would definitely sense the raw and untapped wells of magical energy, like a dam ready to burst open only with enough provocation. His aura radiated a good nine feet from where he stood in all directions, it had the appearance of a bluish-green flame.
Tez reached behind to the handle of his sword and lifted it with ease, when he set it down it landed with a hard thud, as if it possibly weighed close to 25 lbs. His sword began to glow beneath the shroud that covered it, lines of exotic magic illuminated as Tez's latent magic began to fill it. Tez then lifted it, one handed, leveled it with his opponents and waited for his opponent to stop his moaning.
Tez narrowed his eyes as if trying to see who or what his opponent was, he could not see much beyond the dull crystalline armor he wore. Fella appeared to be a man or at least shaped like one but he felt as if something was off about this opponent, as if something terrible had happened to him. "Gods, only Nitah knows this man's woes..." Tez said to himself, his voice almost inaudible above the roar of the excited crowd.
Tez reached behind to the handle of his sword and lifted it with ease, when he set it down it landed with a hard thud, as if it possibly weighed close to 25 lbs. His sword began to glow beneath the shroud that covered it, lines of exotic magic illuminated as Tez's latent magic began to fill it. Tez then lifted it, one handed, leveled it with his opponents and waited for his opponent to stop his moaning.
Tez narrowed his eyes as if trying to see who or what his opponent was, he could not see much beyond the dull crystalline armor he wore. Fella appeared to be a man or at least shaped like one but he felt as if something was off about this opponent, as if something terrible had happened to him. "Gods, only Nitah knows this man's woes..." Tez said to himself, his voice almost inaudible above the roar of the excited crowd.
Nathaniel Tynian wrote:
The prince smiled again, it seems like his first opponent would be a worthy one. He shifted his grip on his twin swords slightly, "Then let us put on a show, sir. These people came to see mastery of arms and it behoves us to provide it to them!"
Nathaniel darted forwards, his left-hand blade flashing forward in a tightly-controlled lunge, testing the Archaian's guard, his right-hand sword drawn back ready to defend against a counter attack. Sparks would certainly fly from the blow, whether it struck the metal of his opponent's armour or his blade.
Since it was only a testing strike, Nathaniel would try to withdraw quickly, eyes warily watching for an opening in his rival's guard.
Nathaniel darted forwards, his left-hand blade flashing forward in a tightly-controlled lunge, testing the Archaian's guard, his right-hand sword drawn back ready to defend against a counter attack. Sparks would certainly fly from the blow, whether it struck the metal of his opponent's armour or his blade.
Since it was only a testing strike, Nathaniel would try to withdraw quickly, eyes warily watching for an opening in his rival's guard.
Drake's sword shifted, only as much as necessary, and diverted the lunge to his left, which would invariably open Nathaniel's side to a strike. Drake made a small, balanced and quick dart to exploit this opening, keeping as much distance as possible, which was about five feet.
Fella's form shudders to a stop, his helmet looking down. Fella's shoulders seemed to have slumped, as his right sabaton steps forward, his body sagging and his weight shifting after his step. Fella's left sabaton does the same, as he steps towards the magical swordsman. Under his helmet, the sound slowly slips away, his form silent except the gentle clinking of his armor. The sun reflects itself off of it, as his right wrist flexes. An almost empty space permits from his form, in a medium sized circle, invisible to the eye.
Fella's helmet lingered upon the arena's sand, his gaze remaining upon his crystal-like boots.
Fella's helmet lingered upon the arena's sand, his gaze remaining upon his crystal-like boots.
Gerenan twitched down to intercept Drake's blade, deflecting it away with precise grace as the prince withdrew, smiling broadly, "Going to have to try harder than that, I'm afraid," Nathaniel said with a small laugh. There were advantages in wielding two blades at once.
The prince eyed the Archaian warily, circling him slowly, "I may not have much true combat experience, but I have trained with these swords for decades," he shifted his grip on his swords slightly and went for Drake again, this time Anhuin went low, jabbing towards his gut whilst Gerenan sang through the air as it was slashed towards his neck.
Every movement and motion was careful and precise, the prince not moving an inch more than needed, using no more or less force than required, for his blows. Such grace and control were hall-marks of Tae Kil Raan, a Terelain martial art that was practised by practically everyone in Terel'Liren. The Peace Forms were excellent for keeping fit and limber and for keeping calm and were widely used by servants, magi and anyone who needed a bit of serenity or control in their lives. The War-Forms, which Nathaniel was using right now, extended that. The intent was to calm the mind and give control over every aspect of the body, to make the weapons and the wielder one and the same, to make fighting instinctual and elegant.
Whether the young prince really had the control and calm to defeat an experienced warrior like Drake was another matter. After all fighting on the practice field and fighting upon the battle field were two very different things.
The prince eyed the Archaian warily, circling him slowly, "I may not have much true combat experience, but I have trained with these swords for decades," he shifted his grip on his swords slightly and went for Drake again, this time Anhuin went low, jabbing towards his gut whilst Gerenan sang through the air as it was slashed towards his neck.
Every movement and motion was careful and precise, the prince not moving an inch more than needed, using no more or less force than required, for his blows. Such grace and control were hall-marks of Tae Kil Raan, a Terelain martial art that was practised by practically everyone in Terel'Liren. The Peace Forms were excellent for keeping fit and limber and for keeping calm and were widely used by servants, magi and anyone who needed a bit of serenity or control in their lives. The War-Forms, which Nathaniel was using right now, extended that. The intent was to calm the mind and give control over every aspect of the body, to make the weapons and the wielder one and the same, to make fighting instinctual and elegant.
Whether the young prince really had the control and calm to defeat an experienced warrior like Drake was another matter. After all fighting on the practice field and fighting upon the battle field were two very different things.
Drake spun quickly out of the way, and used his momentum to power a blazing-fast strike toward Nathaniel's leg, where it was relatively unprotected by Nathaniel's leg.
Drake's eyes were beginning to glint with a fearsome blaze. It was a point of Archaian training to utilize fury in fueling strokes, but to do that without doing things that would result in the swordsman's death, each soldier was forced through at least five years of training in keeping a level head. Archaian captains and officers who had mastered the art could strike with all the speed and ferocity of a man fighting for his child's life without ever advancing beyond their bounds. This talent was called the Arkhmezre (ark-MAYS-ray) Drake had been chosen of the Generals because his Arkhmezre was fully developed and had distinguished and protected him through countless campaigns against the Southern States' marauder hordes.
Drake's eyes were beginning to glint with a fearsome blaze. It was a point of Archaian training to utilize fury in fueling strokes, but to do that without doing things that would result in the swordsman's death, each soldier was forced through at least five years of training in keeping a level head. Archaian captains and officers who had mastered the art could strike with all the speed and ferocity of a man fighting for his child's life without ever advancing beyond their bounds. This talent was called the Arkhmezre (ark-MAYS-ray) Drake had been chosen of the Generals because his Arkhmezre was fully developed and had distinguished and protected him through countless campaigns against the Southern States' marauder hordes.
Tez watches for a moment as Fella makes his slow approach before looking over to see that the others' battle was already well under way. Tez would wait no longer, he was a patient man in battle but there was a time and a place for everything he reasoned. "A time to wait and a time to act..." Tez said as he exhaled breath and gathered in his focus, upon his exhale he no longer stood where he had been. If you had blinked you would've missed it, Tez had sped past Fella, came around to his side and made a wide arc with his shrouded blade. If Fella did not react quick enough Tez's blunted sword would knock his helmet right off with the sheer force alone.
On another level Tez's aura had flared up just before he had started his approach and had focused its raw intensity to a more refined field around his body, he aura was marginally affected by the non-magical area around Fella but it would not be enough to extinguish the intensity of his internal divine magic.
On another level Tez's aura had flared up just before he had started his approach and had focused its raw intensity to a more refined field around his body, he aura was marginally affected by the non-magical area around Fella but it would not be enough to extinguish the intensity of his internal divine magic.
Nathaniel's guarding sword swept down to deflect the sword away from his leg. Terelain reflexes were very quick, but they tended to be more lacking in pure force. Nathaniel tried to pull away from Drake, to get more room to manoeuvre. If he could leverage his superior speed and agility against the human he was confidant that he could win.
In order to get that distance, he lashed out with his right-hand sword towards Drake's chest, a momentary distraction so he could get some distance between them. Unlike Drake's people, the Terelains practised total control over emotions in battle, rather than honing and refining a single emotion to focus their will. If A Terelain had achieved this inner peace, the alaer, then they were unaffected by emotion, the events of the external world passed over and through the warrior without effect.
Perhaps it was time to see which philosophy was better, the Arkhmezre or the Alaer.
If Nathaniel managed to get a little breathing room, he would take a deep, calming breath and let go. It was an exercise drummed into him so much that he could fall into the quasi-meditative state very rapidly indeed. He still could not maintain it for long during the heat of battle, but he was improving gradually. A noticeable change would come over the prince. His muscles relaxed, but his posture straightened, his expression changed into one of serenity, emotionless and distant, a slight smile playing on his lips. He and his swords were one, he moved beyond conscious thought, on an instinctual level. There was no plan or strategy there was only action and reaction.
The prince would soon go on the offensive, lashing out with both of his swords now, sacrificing the defence holding one in reserve would give in return for lighting-fast lunges and slashes with both blades, seeking to overwhelm the Archaian before he could put up a defence. Despite the speed at which he attacked, each motion was graceful and precise, his movements almost dance-like as he gave himself over completely to the rhythm of combat.
In order to get that distance, he lashed out with his right-hand sword towards Drake's chest, a momentary distraction so he could get some distance between them. Unlike Drake's people, the Terelains practised total control over emotions in battle, rather than honing and refining a single emotion to focus their will. If A Terelain had achieved this inner peace, the alaer, then they were unaffected by emotion, the events of the external world passed over and through the warrior without effect.
Perhaps it was time to see which philosophy was better, the Arkhmezre or the Alaer.
If Nathaniel managed to get a little breathing room, he would take a deep, calming breath and let go. It was an exercise drummed into him so much that he could fall into the quasi-meditative state very rapidly indeed. He still could not maintain it for long during the heat of battle, but he was improving gradually. A noticeable change would come over the prince. His muscles relaxed, but his posture straightened, his expression changed into one of serenity, emotionless and distant, a slight smile playing on his lips. He and his swords were one, he moved beyond conscious thought, on an instinctual level. There was no plan or strategy there was only action and reaction.
The prince would soon go on the offensive, lashing out with both of his swords now, sacrificing the defence holding one in reserve would give in return for lighting-fast lunges and slashes with both blades, seeking to overwhelm the Archaian before he could put up a defence. Despite the speed at which he attacked, each motion was graceful and precise, his movements almost dance-like as he gave himself over completely to the rhythm of combat.
Drake's mouth was a feral snarl, and his eyes burned with the ferocity of a thousand suns. He quickly parried the stroke at his chest, and allowed the Prince to gain his ground. It would serve Drake better to have him slightly distant. When the assault came, Drake took advantage of the prince's abandon of defense to do a strong thrust, aimed so that it would put his opponent in a surrender. Despite all his self-grown fury, Drake did not seek to kill, as he often did when using his sword. That did not, however, mean that he was unwilling to use his strength to its full. So, when the Terelain started his quick strokes, Drake fully pretended to be struggling back with a defense, but as soon as the prince's guard opened to a clear place slightly below his sternum, (An unavoidable eventuality when using a fierce, two-handed assault pattern, as I've experimented) Drake's sword nimbly leapt from himself to cover that long distance between him and Nathaniel.
So because Drake had allowed that distance to form, his opponent's tactic was diluted slightly because of his shorter, two-sword equipment choice, and Drake's light longsword's advantages were exponentiated. If the move was to follow those statistics, it would find itself hovering a millimeter from Nathaniel's midsection; only the immense control Drake exercised over himself would keep Nathaniel from spilling himself over the fighting ground.
((Note that that was not me god-modding, I'm just saying what would happen should the move work out as planned.))
So because Drake had allowed that distance to form, his opponent's tactic was diluted slightly because of his shorter, two-sword equipment choice, and Drake's light longsword's advantages were exponentiated. If the move was to follow those statistics, it would find itself hovering a millimeter from Nathaniel's midsection; only the immense control Drake exercised over himself would keep Nathaniel from spilling himself over the fighting ground.
((Note that that was not me god-modding, I'm just saying what would happen should the move work out as planned.))
The prince froze as the human's blade easily slipped past his guard towards his sternum, his twin swords halting mid-slash as he brought them down towards his neck. Though his armour protected him from such a thrust, he wasn't entirely certain if it would hold up against the powerful thrust of the sword, since the point of the sword was designed to punch through armour.
Nathaniel stared for a long moment at Drake, the peace of Alaer slipping away from him thanks to the shock of defeat, "Well... damn," he muttered as he pulled his swords away and sheathed them, stepping back from the human, "It seems I am bested already. I think I will have to train harder when I return home," he gave a deep bow to his opponent, "The warriors of Archaia are well-represented by you. It was an honour to fight you."
It was kind of embarrassing losing in the first round, but Drake had been an honourable and skilled opponent so Nathaniel wasn't too sore about it. The fact that Nariel had been up in the stands watching though... he didn't look up at the stands where she and the other Terelains were watching, he was too embarrassed about losing when she was watching to dare see what she thought of it.
It was at that point that a small bird composed entirely of light flittered down from the stands and trilled sweetly at him, grabbing his attention. He blinked and held out a hand, the little bird alighting on his finger. It tilted its head as it watched him and trilled again before it began to sing a soft song. It was a beautiful melody rendered in birdsong and as soon as it finished the bird dissipated into motes of light.
Nathaniel turned to look up at the stands, meeting Nariel's eyes. She smiled and waved, emerald eyes dancing with amusement. The young prince smiled and inclined his head. She always did know how to cheer him up.
Nathaniel stared for a long moment at Drake, the peace of Alaer slipping away from him thanks to the shock of defeat, "Well... damn," he muttered as he pulled his swords away and sheathed them, stepping back from the human, "It seems I am bested already. I think I will have to train harder when I return home," he gave a deep bow to his opponent, "The warriors of Archaia are well-represented by you. It was an honour to fight you."
It was kind of embarrassing losing in the first round, but Drake had been an honourable and skilled opponent so Nathaniel wasn't too sore about it. The fact that Nariel had been up in the stands watching though... he didn't look up at the stands where she and the other Terelains were watching, he was too embarrassed about losing when she was watching to dare see what she thought of it.
It was at that point that a small bird composed entirely of light flittered down from the stands and trilled sweetly at him, grabbing his attention. He blinked and held out a hand, the little bird alighting on his finger. It tilted its head as it watched him and trilled again before it began to sing a soft song. It was a beautiful melody rendered in birdsong and as soon as it finished the bird dissipated into motes of light.
Nathaniel turned to look up at the stands, meeting Nariel's eyes. She smiled and waved, emerald eyes dancing with amusement. The young prince smiled and inclined his head. She always did know how to cheer him up.