The Pointy End Goes in the Other Guy (Swords, ATTN: Eb)

[Quibby]

Mehrin could tell that the day was going to be a good one, and the sun hadn't even gotten half its height above the horizon. He had just left his office, a note hanging from the door telling anyone who had business with him to go see Amon. If Mehrin knew the other man, there'd probably be a similar sign on his door sending them to him. He had commandeered a bit of the training grounds near the wall for today's training. Ebony was no slouch when it came to her fighting prowess, and to get a closer look at the two working would require dodging around the rest of the groups training in the area. Hopefully that would discourage spectators.

 

Drawing his claymore, Mehrin drove the blade into the ground and hung his scabbard, cloak, and hat on it. The weapon did occasionally serve purposes other than killing; Mehrin remembered using it once as a crutch. Advanced sword training didn't require a whole lot of talking; most of what would be done would be to hopefully find and eliminate any weaknesses in technique before an opponent could find them.

 

Mehrin preferred training like that.

[EB]

Eb sat in a corner of the training yard, her back to the new wall, her sword across her knees. She watched as the newer recruits were put through their paces, watched as their limbs were stretched and twisted until, despite the cool air of the morning, sweat beaded on their skin and ran in little rivulets across their bodies. She watched as they were matched up with partners and made to spar, watched as spritely limbs were made more wary. Above the shouted orders of the Sergeants, Lieutenants and Captains the only sounds were those of fist on flesh and metal on metal. One young lad was having a particularly hard time of it, the sword in his hands held heavily and at an awkward angle. He seemed quick on his feet but the sword was making him clumsy. He must have been used to handling two-handed weapons, perhaps a staff, because right now the shortness of the sword had him off balance and over-reaching. As she watched, the boy's opponent exploited an opening in his guard and delivered a mighty blow to the left side of his ribs. The boy crumpled like a sack full of flour with a hole in it. He was up again in a second, and though his sword was still held at an awkward angle, his eyes were now alight with determination and a fiery fury.

 

Eb frowned and looked away. It had not been that long ago that she was the awkward recruit with a sword, stalking angrily around the camp, stopping every ten paces to untangle herself, yank roughly at the belt around her hips and glare furiously at the new sword rapping the rhythm of each and every angry step mercilessly against her legs. She still remembered the frustrating hours of extra training with Naven and Tenan, and despite her rank, the years of practice and her increased skill, deep down she still had issues with her sword.

 

She watched as Mehrin entered the training grounds, his sheer size and status clearing a path for him as he walked.

 

He drew his claymore from the cloak on his back, drove it into the ground and proceeded to hang various items from its hilt. With a scowl Eb rose to her feet. She had no idea what to expect. It had been a while since she'd been trained, and she had never sparred with Mehrin.

 

Gritting her teeth and deciding to get it all over with, Eb strode over to where Mehrin stood waiting. She took the opportunity to study his form more closely, and she approached she noticed that the knife scar running across the left side of his face almost mirrored her own on the right. It took her by surprise. Affording him a quick salute, she nodded gruffly in greeting.

 

"Commander."

Edited January 28 by Cass

[Quibby]

"Commander," Eb said gruffly as she threw a salute. Mehrin returned the salute quickly, then spoke, his rumbling voice carrying some of his mild irritation. "Do me a favor and don't call me 'Commander' or 'sir' or anything like that. Don't bother with the saluting either. I have the rank, but I hate the constant reminders." Flexing his hands to get the blood flowing, Mehrin bent over to retrieve his training weapon, a bundle of loosely-tied laths about the same length as his own weapon. Pointing to one of the many racks set out on the field, Mehrin said, "Before we're done with this lesson, we will be using live steel, but I want to get a feel for what you can do before we push it that far."

 

As Eb sorted through the lath weapons, Mehrin took some time to examine his. The leather wrapped around the eighteen-inch handle was still tight. That was unsurprising, as he had just had to replace the blade. None of the wood along the four-foot length showed any sign of cracking or splintering. Good. These things hurt bad enough without that added incentive.

 

Eb had returned, one of the training blades in hand. For the first time, Mehrin noticed a scar across the right side of the woman's face as if she had been struck with a knife. Hmm, a kindred spirit, then. "You've been in enough battles to know that the first rule of fighting is that there are no rules. Remember that here; anything goes. Fight as if your life depended on it."

 

Mehrin's hands shifted on the hilt of his weapon, one near the pommel, one near the crossbar. His blade cut across his body in a basic guard stance. He was ready. "We start whenever you're ready, Eb."

 

 

OOC: One quick note on Mehrin's style: Mehrin uses the entire weapon as if it were a mix between a claymore, a staff, and a club, and he'll occasionally throw in a hand-to-hand attack to keep things interesting.

 

All told, this training thread will require about 4-6 posts from you. The next 2 or 3 will be this part of the training session, probably taking the entire day. The following 1 or 2 will take place one week after this sparring session, where any mistakes made here will have been corrected. If you have any questions, feel free to PM or e-mail me. Other than that, have a blast.

[EB]

Still smarting from the Commander's admonishments about addressing him according to his rank, Eb sorted through the collection of training weapons in the centre of the field, her eyes narrowed and her lips pressed into a thin line. Affording people the respect they were owed due to rank alone had never come easily to her, and she had only done so with Mehrin because her time with the Band had taught her not only that it was expected, but also that failure to do so was unacceptable.

 

She scowled. Damned if I do, damned if I don't¦

 

Snatching a well-secured bundle of training laths from the rack and checking it over, she was forced to reconsider her sarcasm. Perhaps there was something note-worthy about a Commander who rejected constant reminders about his rank and status above everyone else.

 

She hefted the practice sword she had chosen into the air in front of her with her right hand, testing its weight. Similar to her own short sword, the model measured just less than 3 foot and balanced nicely close to the guard. It would not suit light cuts with the wrist, but it would do fine with powerful thrusts and cuts from the arm or elbow.

Indifferent, Eb returned to where Mehrin was waiting. His weapon was substantially larger than her own, which was not surprising really, given his size. Summing up this fact with the large differences in height between herself and the Commander, Eb knew both Mehrin's reach and strength would far outweigh her own. She ran her free hand through an extremely short strand of wild black hair at the nape of her neck. This is not going to be an easy fight¦

 

"You've been in enough battles to know that the first rule of fighting is that there are no rules," Mehrin's voice interrupted her thoughts. "Remember that here; anything goes. Fight as if your life depended on it." He shifted into a basic guard stance. "We start whenever you're ready, Eb."

 

She nodded, rolling her shoulders. The fact that there were no rules when it came to fighting included the fact that there were no rules about the size and strength of your opponent. She lifted her sword. This may not turn out to be an easy fight, she knew, but she was here to practice, and like it or not, she was her to learn. As if her life depended on it. She lunged.

 

Mehrin blocked her attack almost effortlessly, wielding the great weight of his weapon with ease. Ducking quickly beyond the range of his counter-attack Eb was instantly aware of the fact that if she let herself take on the defensive role for even a second, she would be stuck there for a very, very long while. Knowing full well Mehrin's attacks would be too strong for her to deflect for any length of time, she pranced to the side and aimed a vicious cut at his ribs. She missed. Dark eyes wide and senses alert she watched the movement of his muscles beneath his vest and breeches, knowing they would give away the nature of his next movement before the tip of his sword. Wielding his weapon like a club, Mehrin aimed a blow at her from above.

 

Eb shifted the sword into her left hand, lifting it just in time to turn the strike aside. Hoping to take advantage of the fact that he was momentarily unbalanced, she took the opportunity to drive in with a fierce thrust to the right. Too short! The time it had taken her to swap the sword back into her right hand had given Mehrin a chance to step back out of her reach - and now she was the one off-balance and off-guard, over-reaching with her right arm and leaving her left side exposed. Cursing violently under her breath she shifted her weight, driving off her right foot and swinging aggressively to the left, her sword arcing over her head like a safeguard as she turned.

 

Eyes wild she dropped into a light crouch, preparing herself for the onslaught.

Edited January 28 by Cass
Glitchy punctuation

[Quibby]

Eb threw herself into a backward roll before Mehrin's weapon could cut across her overextended arm. She came back to her feet in a crouch, her eyes wide and feral looking. The scar over her eye completed a look that most would call 'unsettling.' Mehrin just saw a target on the defensive. Two long strides brought Mehrin into striking range before Eb could back out again. It was to her credit that she managed to deflect Mehrin's heavy downward strike to her right and even attempt a counterattack aimed at his ribs. Stepping wide of the attack, Mehrin came in even closer and shoving her with his left arm to throw her off-balance. Even as unsteady as she was, Eb managed to block his attack aimed at her right side.

 

Mehrin was not one to let any sort of advantage get away from him. Rather, he advanced. His volley of attacks began to fall faster, the edge of his blade parried at the right hip became the hilt of his weapon deflected from the chest became an upward swing that Eb sidestepped. Mehrin swung again at Eb's right side that the woman caught with her own weapon. At the moment of impact, Mehrin switched again, driving the hilt of his weapon towards Eb's ribs. She either didn't see it coming or couldn't bring her weapon around fast enough; Mehrin only saw that when it was too late to halt his attack. The handle of Mehrin's training weapon struck the woman hard enough to send her sprawling.

 

"That's something we're going to need to fix then," Mehrin said as he knelt to see if Eb was okay, all the while calling himself nine different kinds of idiot. From the way she was breathing, he had probably only knocked the wind out of her and left a rather memorable bruise. He carefully helped Eb to her feet before saying, "I'm sorry about that. We'll take a short break to let you recuperate, then I want you to go get another weapon. Your left side is too exposed, and Iwould rather not repeat that. When you think your ready, we'll start again."

[EB]

Eb cursed loudly as she parried yet another of Mehrin's vicious blows. Despite her best intentions she had found herself on the defensive. She needed to attack, but she had no openings! The Commander swung at her again on the right and she blocked, her short sword stopping the tip of his claymore from slicing into her side. Once again her left was exposed, and this time there was nothing she could do about it; her right side and her weapon were caught up deflecting the 'blade' of the claymore from her body. Too late, she saw the bunching of his muscles that indicated an immediate attack to her left. There was nothing for it.

 

"Blasted-!"

 

The curse had barely left her lips before the hilt of his weapon thundered into her ribs. She sprawled into the dirt. In a second Mehrin was beside her, grabbing a hand to help her up.

 

"I'm sorry about that. We'll take a short break to let you recuperate, then I want you to go get another weapon. Your left side is too exposed, and I would rather not repeat that. When you think you are ready we'll start again."

 

"No use for apologies Commander," she growled, on her feet in an instant, her ragged breathing quickly suppressed by a combination of habit and determination. Weakness is death. "Won't hear them in battle."

 

She turned from him, trudged back to the rack of training weapons, selected a second short sword and checked it over. It was almost identical to the first. She was back at his side within minutes.

 

One training weapon held loosely in each hand, Eb carved slow circles in the air and considered the implications of fighting with the extra sword. Her left side ached with the effort, but, she rationalised, the coordination would not be much different to fighting hand to hand with her knives. She tested the theory, twirling the pair in her hands in the same manner she would have done with her knives. The weighting was different, but it worked easily enough. A dull ache spread through her ribs. Pushing the pain firmly out of her mind she made a tentative thrust to the right, and instinctively knew Mehrin was right - the second weapon went a long way to ensuring her left was less exposed. Good. It was not a mistake she wanted repeated either. She wondered why she had never picked up on this before, it felt so… natural.

 

Squaring off from Mehrin, Eb spat to the side and raised her weapons to the ready. "Commander?" She raised an eyebrow in question. The man had a strange expression on his face and Eb could not tell whether it was due to irritation at her repeated use of his rank, or for some other reason, but she did not care; the man gave a gruff nod of consent, and she stepped in to attack.

 

The knock to the floor had left her looking wilder than usual, her hair now stood out in every direction and her eyes were narrowed in concentration. She spun the swords as if they were her knives, wrists gently controlling the movement of the blades as they swung in circles of deadly unison. Yes, this will work. For the briefest instant, Eb smiled.

 

And then she struck, practice lathes whirling in her hands she spun, pirouetting on the spot and aiming a fierce backward slice to the back of Merhrin's knee. He stepped out of the way, but only just. Still turning in her pirouette, Eb moved forward, bringing the left sword down to strike across his chest while the right came up for an overhead stab. It all flowed with a viciously smooth momentum. Yes! This is more to my liking! She no longer felt the uncomfortable imbalance of wielding only one sword, and as she stepped forward, the smile returned to her lips. This will do just fine.

 

She made ready to dance...

Edited January 28 by Cass
Glitchy punctuation

[Quibby]

"No use for apologies, Commander. Won't hear them in battle." Typical infantry, Mehrin thought as Eb trudged her way over to the weapon rack, her side apparently forgotten. Light, if she calls me 'Commander' one more time... "Commander?" Eb said, calling Mehrin out of his reverie. A mischievous grin flashed across Mehrin's face before he could stop it. It wouldn't be fair to do what he was thinking. Mehrin shifted his full attention over to Eb, nodding once to signal her to begin.

 

Mehrin was not surprised when Eb didn't attack right away. She spun the two swords in her hands as if she were spinning a longer-than-normal pair of knives. In her disheveled state, the brief smile that disappeared from her face as suddenly as it had appeared was rather grim. Then she attacked.

 

Mehrin felt as if he were suddenly fighting a completely different and far more dangerous foe. Eb seemed to dance, one blade knifing in towards his knee. Barely managing to sidestep the attack, Mehrin lifted his blade just in time to deflect a slashing blow aimed across his chest, then danced around Eb as her follow-up stab pierced the air where his chest had just been. You bloody fool! She is a knife wielder! Stop dumbing down and pay attention! The mischievous grin returned again. Dancing out of range, Mehrin buried the tip of his blade into the sand and addressed the slowly advancing woman. "Well, that works a bit better for you then, Captain?" Silence was Eb's only reply. "Good," Mehrin muttered.

 

Eb's steady approach became a dancelike twirl. Mehrin kicked his blade, tossing sand towards Eb's face and stopping her advance as she spun to avoid getting it in her eyes. Her spin finished just in time to catch a heavy downswing from Mehrin's weapon on both her blades. Almost as soon as the momentum was stalled, Eb's right hand disengaged and stabbed towards Mehrin's belly. Mehrin spun his weapon, deflecting Eb's stab with the blade and her counterattack with the handle. Grabbing his blade where the wrapped leather on his regular weapon was, Mehrin stabbed the tip toward Eb, a blow that she easily intercepted. She just as easily deflected the strike that Mehrin made with the hilt towards her left side. The added weapon certainly made a difference. That thought was enough to take Mehrin off of the offensive, no small part of which was due to the booted foot that suddenly struck Mehrin in the belly, nearly winding him. Looking up, Mehrin caught the double-slash aimed at his neck and chest on the length of his weapon and took a brief moment to examine Eb's face. She seemed to be enjoying herself... or maybe she was just glad to have kicked a commanding officer without any repercussions. Either way, the smile on her face was unsettling.

 

OOC: We'll wrap this part up pretty soon, and move on to the test bit.

[EB]

The instant Ebâ's attack slowed, the Commander was out of her reach. Light he is quick! Blades at the ready, she stepped forward.

 

"Well, that works a bit better for you then, Captain?" He asked, burying the tip of his blade in the sand and staring at her with the same strange expression as before.

 

She didn't answer. Yes, wielding the second weapon was working better for her, but she wasn't about to waste that advantage by talking about it. Eyes focused, she continued her advance.

 

The spray of sand flew towards her face before her next step had even landed on the ground. She spun, narrowly avoiding eyefuls of grit and even more narrowly avoiding the heavy downward swing of the claymore which followed. Blasted -! Cursing the Commander's tactics and her own stupidity, Eb continued her advance. The first rule is that there are no rules!

 

The blades in her hands twirled almost naturally, deflecting blow after blow and returning strike after strike. The volley of attacks and parries between them intensified and Eb couldn't help but grin. So this is how we're gonna play!

 

Redirecting a slash to her left with a downward strike of her new weapon, Eb used the momentum of her strike to spin off her left foot, driving her right boot hard into Mehrin's belly as she turned. It was a blow that served to surprise him, if nothing else, and Eb's grin broadened into a full-blown smile. They were really dancing now!

 

She aimed a double-slash at the Commander's neck and chest and skipped backwards, easily avoiding his counter-strike. In a wave of fury she advanced, practice lathes whirling a storm of fierce attacks. Mehrin deflected each and every blow.

 

Jumping back, Eb held her dual blades at the ready and considered her next move. Wielding the extra weapon might have had its advantages, but there was no denying the fact that it required extra effort. She could feel her left side beginning to tire and the muscles in her arm were starting to strain under the extra weight.

 

Mehrin advanced the instant her attack stalled, his claymore forcing Eb to block each thrust and strike until her muscles screamed with the effort. Eyes wide she watched as he prepared to make yet another swipe at her left. Gritting her teeth, she knocked the Commander's blade downwards as soon as it was in reach. Suddenly she grinned; the downward motion had left a slight gap in Mehrin's defences, up near his neck. She lunged forward, right blade outstretched, hoping to finish it all off in this move -

 

The smooth wood of practice lathes pressed firmly against the side of her neck. The left side. Eb froze mid-strike.

Too slow!

She scowled. Her left had been too weak, too slow! The Commander had been too quick... She shifted her coal-black eyes to look directly into Mehrin's own brown gaze, and grinned. It seemed the Commander had been working hard after all, sweat glistened on his skin and his breathing sounded as ragged as her own.

 

She rolled her head slowly away from his blade and stepped backwards. "Thank-you for the lesson, Commander."

 

Rushed past her lips as they were, the words sounded more curt than she had intended. Expressions of gratitude had never come easily to her, but it had been a long while since she had enjoyed such a challenge in training, and she felt she owed Mehrin at least that much. She bowed her head ever so slightly, a faint dip of the chin. Still, she did not apologise for her tone, or the use of his full rank.

 

Still holding his gaze, she stepped back further and gave her blades a final twirl. "What criticisms have you?" she asked, cocking her head to the side and preparing herself for the list of errors that was sure to follow!

Edited January 28 by Cass
Glitchy punctuation

[Quibby]

"My criticisms are few; you worked most of them out on your own. However, we still need to deal with the relative slowness and weakness in your left arm compared to your right." Mehrin grinned as he wiped the sweat off his face. That had been quite fun once Eb had figured out what she was doing. "That's relatively simple to do, but far from easy. I recommend that you attach some sort of weight or something to your left wrist, nothing too big, but enough to work the muscles in that arm."

 

As he spoke, Mehrin made his way to one of the nearby rain barrels. "I've seen some trainers tell their students to do everything with their off hand. I'll recommend it, but I won't order it. Maybe some sparring with the newer recruits using your left hand only. If nothing else, it'll teach them a lesson; its rare to face a left-handed opponent in combat." Taking the dipper that hung in the water, Mehrin took a mouthful and dumped the rest over his head. "The faster and stronger your left hand is, the less likely it is that you'll be defeated the same way next time."

 

With a shrug, Mehrin finished, "That's all that I have for you today. In one month, I want to see you back here with live steel. You'd better be ready to use it." Mehrin strode over to where he had left his gear and collected it, dropping the hat on his head before he left Eb to her work. He'd make sure to check up on her progress on occasion, though.

 

*******

 

The night still clung to the earth, daring the sun to appear over the horizon. It would in about fifteen minutes. Perfect. The early hour served two purposes: the rising sun would serve as a timer for the duel, and there were very few people on the training grounds at this hour. Both good for what was about to occur. Not bothering with a shirt or cloak, Mehrin wore only his breeches, boots, and a light vest, the bandolier holding his claymore on belted around his chest. He wanted as little interference as possible. This would be difficult enough without having to deal with a tightly twisted sleeve or collar.

 

Eb appeared right on time, which made Mehrin even happier; things needed to be timed just right. As she began limbering up and checking her weapons, Mehrin spoke. "This test is very simple. If I draw blood before the sun breaks the horizon, you fail. If I don't draw blood, you pass. If you draw blood, you pass." Mehrin chuckled grimly before continuing. "I'll try to avoid doing any permanent damage, so if you'd be so kind as to extend the same courtesy, I would appreciate it."

 

Drawing his weapon, Mehrin undid the bandolier and let it fall to the ground outside the ring, his mind dancing. There was about a three pound weight difference between the claymore and the training lathes. It would make him a bit slower, but harder to block. More then even the shape of his weapon, Mehrin hoped that Eb was ready for this; if not, this would end badly for her. The predawn air seemed to hold some sort of tension as Mehrin said, "The sun will break the horizon in about ten minutes. Hold me off until then. Whenever you're ready, Eb."

 

OOC: Pretty simple: two or three posts from you, depending on how the mood suits you. You know what to avoid. Have a blast.

[EB]

OOC: Mehrin, I am so sorry for the delay!! :oops: Enjoy...

 

IC: Lost in the light rhythm of her jog, Eb turned towards the practice yards and dragged the memories away from her mind. The yard appeared a silhouette of shadow within shadow but still, the darkness of night was lifting, dispersing ever so slowly in the greying light of pre-dawn. She came to a curt standstill before Mehrin and nodded shortly, thankful he was not wearing his cloak today. The shadows of early morning were hard enough to ignore without such blatant reminders of -

 

She shook her head.

 

Not now!

 

Jumping lightly on the spot for a second, she settled in for a brief stretch, testing her muscles. They felt good. She shook them out quickly and drew her weapons, rolling her neck as the twin blades gleamed dully in the dark. As she began a slow pattern of twirls, Mehrin spoke.

 

"This test is very simple. If I draw blood before the sun breaks the horizon, you fail. If I don't draw blood, you pass. If you draw blood, you pass." Mehrin chuckled grimly before continuing. "I'll try to avoid doing any permanent damage, so if you'd be so kind as to extend the same courtesy, I would appreciate it." The Commander unsheathed his weapon, dropping the bandolier to the ground outside the ring.

 

Eb nodded, her midnight black eyes focused on his as she rounded off her pattern to end in a stance of basic guard. She knew this claymore would be considerably heavier than his training lathes, and looking at him she was suddenly reminded of her time spent in practice against Naven and his axe.

 

I'll just have to be quick then. She smiled slowly, Lucky I strengthened my left.

 

"The sun will break the horizon in about ten minutes. Hold me off until then. Whenever you're ready, Eb." The Commander had barely closed his lips by the time she rushed in for the attack, but he was ready. Easily deflecting his strike down and out with her right, she aimed a nimble thrust with her left, and caught a heavy boot in the stomach for her effort - the steel of her blade only inches from his skin.

 

"Blasted-" She threw the weight of her knees over her head as she fell, turning the tumble to the sand into a tight backward roll. Quick doesn't mean stupid! She berated herself with a scowl, the thought passing through her head in an instant.

 

Coming to a crouch, she swept her right leg out wide with force, spinning anti-clockwise on the ball of her left and ducking her head low to avoid the downswing that fell heavily to the ground by her side. Weight centred, she followed the momentum of her spin briefly before digging her right foot deep into the sand and springing up and around with her left until she was in a standing position. A quick whirl of the hands on her hilts, and her weapons were ready.

 

Eyes narrowed intently and senses alert, she gauged Mehrin's advance, switching quickly to the defensive. It was not the position she would have liked to have been in, but she knew she had no choice - she gave a quick spin of her blades and pursed her lips into a decisive grin. Things were about to get interesting¦

Edited January 28 by Cass
Glitchy punctuation

[Quibby]

It appeared that Eb had been working, though she had also hoped to end the duel quickly, judging from her fast opening attack. As clumsy as it was. His downward attack deflected to the outside, Eb tried to thrust her steel at Mehrin's left side, leaving her wide open. Mehrin's boot struck her in the belly, sending her sprawling. She gracefully turned her fall into a backward roll. Concentrating on not injuring the woman permanently, Mehrin aimed a downward strike to slice across Eb's shoulder, which she twisted around before coming back to her feet, her two swords held at the ready. "Good," Mehrin muttered, his words too quiet to hear, his lips lost in the dark.

 

Mehrin's advance was rapid, and his first strike toward Eb's left shoulder was caught between both blades. A quick spin of the weapon brought it free of Eb's weapons, and a quick backstep kept Mehrin from running a cut across her upper chest as the weapons separated. It had been maybe a minute from the start of the duel, but Mehrin was already sweating. Between he and Eb, Mehrin felt that he had the hardest job. If Eb seriously wounded him, it would be Mehrin's fault; if he seriously wounded her...

 

Again, Eb started dancing towards Mehrin, spinning as if she were dancing to some unknown tune, her arms held wide. The few lights nearby glinted off her blades. Biding his time, Mehrin halted Eb's progress with a stab at the ground in front of her. The brief pause allowed Mehrin a quick strike with the much-heavier pommel of his claymore before he withdrew again. A slight draft against his leg made Mehrin glance down briefly. He hadn't even noticed the sword cutting his breeches, a cut that had probably come during his strike. There was no cut evident, so the match was still on.

 

Recalling what he had done the previous time, Mehrin struck high again, the force of his swing striking sparks off the two swords held up to block it. As his attack was repelled, though, Mehrin spun it to strike at Eb's left side, once again deflected by her left-hand blade, the right-hand blade stabbing towards Mehrin's chest. Withdrawing to deflect the blow with the hilt of his weapon, Mehrin made to end the duel the way their second one had trained, with his blade against Eb's neck.

 

Even as he thrust forward, Mehrin saw that it wasn't going to work, and Eb's left-hand sword caught the flat of his blade and forced it outward. A sudden gust of wind blew hair into Mehrin's face, letting him know just how close he had come. Eb had a satisfied look on her face that turned suddenly vicious. The sharp toe of the boot that struck Mehrin in the shin told him why. Dancing back, Mehrin immediately found himself on the defensive again. Good, a part of him thought absently.

 

***Time: approx. 3:00

[EB]

Eb deflected the strike to her left, attacked with her right and caught the flat of Mehrin's blade with hers as it sped towards her neck.

 

That is not going to happen again!

 

She aimed a counter-strike inches from his face and kicked him in the shin, emphasising the fact that she had learnt her lesson and was prepared this time around.

 

The Commander danced backwards, on the defensive and slightly off balance. Eyes narrowed in concentration, Eb darted in to attack. The greying light of dawn made their dance seem surreal - the Commander and his student, weaving tightly in and around each other, blades and shadows twisted together in a parody of strike and parry. But despite the calming influence of early morn, Ebony was not fooled. This dance was serious.

 

The sharp ring of metal on metal emphasised that point and Eb spun, disengaging her weapons from Mehrin's overhead strike and driving her right blade towards the Commander's foot. She ducked towards him, to his side, and out of the way. Lost in the concentration of battle, she was giving it her all. Despite her reluctance to injure the Commander, she trusted the instinct that screamed at her that he would handle whatever came his way. She gritted her teeth, Mehrin was not an opponent with whom she could toy.

 

Dancing out of his reach she aimed a vicious slice at his side as he turned to face her. Even in the shadowy light, her determination was plain to see - perhaps she could not play with him, but it didn't mean she would not try! She advanced.

Edited January 28 by Cass
Glitchy punctuation

[Quibby]

Eb was starting to catch on. With a grim smile, Mehrin checked the horizon. Two minutes to sunrise. As Eb began to advance again, Mehrin began slowly spinning his sword, the air humming as his blade cut through it at a steadily-quickening pace. It was time to see just how much she had learned. One step forward brought Mehrin into range. The next spin of his blade angled in at Eb's left shoulder, and was deflected up and around her head to the other side. Only a quick backstep saved her, though, from the heavy pommel of Mehrin's claymore. Using the momentum, Mehrin spun about, his heavy weapon gaining momentum before striking down in a heavy downward swing that he wasn't sure that Eb would have been able to block if she would have stayed in place.

 

Darting around the falling blade, Eb closed the distance between the two of them quickly enough that Mehrin had to toss himself to one side to avoid being struck. He came up quickly, though, his sword held like a short staff. Eb was pressing her advantage, her overhanded strike nearly catching Mehrin offguard before he could get his weapon up to block it. Giving her weapons a hard shove, Mehrin hoped to throw her off balance. As she staggered away, Mehrin aimed a cut at her leg, which she still managed to deflect despite being off-balance.

 

With a feral grin, Mehrin stepped up again. It had only been thirty seconds since he had actually started fighting; it was time to make Ebony earn this.

[EB]

The sun hovered under the horizon, the first rays of dawn threatening to push through and break the darkness at any moment. Eb lunged forward and spun, recovering as quickly as she was able from the force of Mehrin's shove and driving the tip of her right blade towards his hip.

 

Tension clung to the shadows in the air. The Commander twisted out of her reach, a feral smile spreading quickly over his lips. He stepped up his attack. Eb knocked aside his next strike and jumped backwards, the grin on her face mimicking his own. He was giving it his all. In an instant her eyes were wild, her expression fierce. It was time to stop treating Mehrin like her Commander and start treating him like her opponent.

 

She danced out of reach and caught his eye. Side on to him, she stood. Point upwards, her left sword crossed over the right just above shoulder height. Stationary for a moment, she smiled.

 

The first rule is that there are no rules!

 

With one smooth motion she dropped the sword in her left hand down into a fluid backward arc. The movement saw the tip of her blade cut into the sand at its lowest point and then swing upwards, chasing the vicious spray towards her foe. Her right foot slid forward across her left and, caught up in the deadly dance, her second sword followed the same path as its twin.

 

Shielded by the scattering sand Eb let the momentum of her swing guide her spin. Up and over her blades sped, around and onwards her body turned. Arms extended, she kept her eyes firmly locked on Mehrin's until the very last second - and then she whipped her head around, short hair flying, dual blades trailing her gaze in a dangerous whirl parallel to the ground. The corners of her mouth twisted upwards into a smile. And this is how we dance!

 

 

OOC: I hope you like that last move, it took me a good 10 minutes dancing around in my computer room with two sticks of wood in my hands to figure that out! :lol:

 

I like your new sig-pic too by the way

Edited January 28 by Cass
Glitchy punctuation

[Quibby]

The dawn was getting closer; Mehrin could almost feel its approaching light. And Mehrin had still failed to strike Eb except for that first kick. He could feel the effects of his concentration on his body. He was getting tired. I am not going down that easily, Mehrin thought angrily. The thought gave him added vigor. A slight pause in the battle gave Mehrin another chance to evaluate his opponent. The smile that had suddenly crossed her face gave Mehrin all the warning that he'd need.

 

Mehrin's claymore shifted automatically into a guard position as the tip of Eb's left-hand sword dipped down, the tip cutting into the sand. With a sudden jerk, she flung the sand on her blade in his direction, probably followed by her own weapons. Mehrin didn't wait around to see. Pivoting on his right foot, Mehrin spun to one side of the flying sand, avoiding the spray to his face. It wasn't hard to pick up on Eb's two flashing blades. With a grin, Mehrin pivoted again, coming up alongside the woman before she could adjust. She never had a chance of stopping the powerful blow from the hilt of Mehrin's claymore.

 

The strength of the blow coupled with the weight of the weapon threw Eb to the sand. With a slightly victorious grin, Mehrin closed in for the kill. And halted in shock. Two things stayed Mehrin's advance. One was the fact that the sun had just broken over the horizon. The second was the darting forward of Eb's right hand right before then. The warmth on Mehrin's upper arm told him all that he needed to know, yet he looked anyway. The sword that Ebony had thrown at him was in the sand a few yards behind him, and the cut on the outer part of his arm was deep enough to need stitches, which he'd see to as soon as he was done here. He'd taken worse injuries; there wasn't even enough pain from this one for him to notice it.

 

Eb was looking up from the ground at him, the pain on her face only slightly masked by a scowl that only confused Mehrin. She won. Why would she be angry about that? Grounding the point of his sword, Mehrin left it quivering in the sand and took Eb by her right arm. It didn't take a lot of effort to lift her to her feet. With a smile, Mehrin said, "Well, I didn't draw blood before the sunrise, and you did. Congratulations, Ebony. You pass."

[EB]

Caught in the momentum of her spin, Eb felt rather than saw the quick shifting of Mehrin's position to her side.

 

Too late!

 

The blow to her stomach sent her sprawling backwards into the sand, mid-spin.

 

You fool!

 

Heart pounding, she whipped her head around and snatched at the sand behind her for her right-hand weapon.

 

Where is it?!

 

Mehrin was advancing, tall and strong, claymore swinging, a victorious grin cutting through the perfect concentration on his face. Eb froze. With instant shock she realised it was not the challenge of the duel that had her heart racing, and that the blow she had received was not entirely responsible for her lack of breath. She gasped, winded to the core. It was not possible!. She shoved the thought away and closed her fist as tight as she was able around the hilt of her sword. NOT possible!

 

With a voiceless snarl she flung the blade at him, hard. NOT POSSIBLE!.

 

Mehrin stopped mid-strike and gaped. The sun had risen. The duel was done. He was bleeding. Eb scowled at him.

 

He walked over to her and lifted her to her feet. The scowl intensified.

 

"Well, I didn't draw blood before the sunrise, and you did. Congratulations, Ebony. You pass." She was too angry to attack him for the use of her full name, and too weak for that matter, but she could not even bring herself to look at him - not even to administer the full-blown glare that raged across her face.

 

Without a word she pushed past him. With one final scowl she snatched her weapon from the ground and stormed out of the yard, leaving the Commander bleeding, bewildered, and very much alone.

 

It was not possible!

 

Edited January 28 by Cass
Glitchy punctuation

[Quibby]

Eb didn't even say a word. Without even sparing him a look, she stormed away from the training grounds, leaving Mehrin with a confused look on his face and an arm covered in his own blood. Typically, there was at least a 'thank-you' after these sessions. There were times that Mehrin just didn't understand people. It was if he had done something to her that he wasn't supposed to do. "Ah, well," he muttered, "she'll get over it, I'm sure."

 

With that, Mehrin walked back to where he had deposited his bandolier and strapped it back around his shoulders. The medic that he talked to about his arm wouldn't be too happy about seeing him walk in like this, but Mehrin didn't care. It was what they were paid for, anyway. With a final shake of his head, Mehrin strode away from the disturbed sand, now reflecting some of the dawn's sunrays.