A Clash of Blades

Known colloquially as the "Realm of Dreams", Emea is a mysterious place accessed primarily beyond the realm of consciousness as the mortal body sleeps in Idalos. The mind travels far at night and Emea's not without its unique risks and dangers, though Jesine's vigilance keeps mortals mostly safe.
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Jachiel
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A Clash of Blades

Sat Feb 18, 2017 9:05 pm

8 Cylus 717

He was running endlessly through city streets, between buildings that loomed and vanished into mist, searching for - something. Maybe somewhere, or someone, he wasn't sure. His burnt arm flapped heavily and awkwardly against his side as he skidded round a corner and burst out into open air. He paused to look around, and found he was standing on the edge of his old practice grounds. Stone paths formed a grid around squares of dusty grass. Battered wooden pells lined one side of the grounds and a shelter holding racks of practice armour and weapons stood on the other. A grey light filled the air enough to see clearly, although there was no visible source for it. He took a step forward, and a certainty engulfed him. It was here he was to meet - whoever it was. To test his returning skills in a fight.

He took a long breath, then another, and crossed the nearest square to reach the practice racks. His own gladius was waiting there for him and he laid his hand on Memory's hilt. Drawing comfort from the familiar feel of it, he pulled on the padding best suited to a sparring match and buckled his sword belt, complete with sheathed sword, over the top of it with a deft flick to get it one handed around his waist. After a moment, he tucked his right hand through the belt to stop his arm flapping.

He walked across to the first of the pells, a six foot tall wooden pole that had been battered and dented by hundreds of weapons, and sun-bleached to a silvery greyish brown. He leaned his shoulder against it, and tilted his head back, watching clouds race across the sky as he waited for his opponent to show up.
word count: 302
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Nightshade Eld
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A Clash of Blades

Sat Feb 18, 2017 11:18 pm

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Nightshade wasn't sure exactly where she was going. She was even less sure of the why. She was dressed in the familiar light weight of leather armor, at her side she felt the familiar weight of her two swords. Red Brand and Love Struck seemed heavier than usual, almost as if the swords themselves were anxious. Or perhaps that was just her projecting her own emotions onto the blades. Either way there was a feeling of both worry and excitement lingering in her mind. The light that made the surrounding area bright had no noticeable source, which gave the gray luminescence an otherworldly and unnerving feeling, at least to the mind of the half breed who had to question everything she didn't see as normal. Most everything ended up in turn getting questioned. What could one even call normal in as messed up a world as the one the immortals had forged? Icarus had taught her to question everything, it was one of the most important lessons he'd taught her yet.

Her feet moved of their own accord, going an unfamiliar direction. She could always take to the skies and get where she was going faster, but the urge didn't take her. Instead she felt the way the rough ground pressed against her unprotected feet. The skin was hardened from years of walking without shoes in locations many would consider to be highly dangerous. The word danger didn't have the same connotation in her mind as in others. It was just another aspect of daily life. What one might define as dangerous meant very little to the half breed. Her existence was a danger to herself, she would truly be a fool to think the world more dangerous than she at this point. Every day she became stronger, more attuned to the aspects of fighting and slaughter.

Her skills in battle were unmatched by most she had come across. The fact she was still alive was enough to prove that. She didn't have as many scars as the average warrior, but her armor hid the noticeable ones. The worst ones had to be the scarring of her mind, the marks left by venomous words yelled or whispered at or about her. Her feet brought her to some kind of practice ground and she paused for a moment. Her hand trailed to Red Brand out of habit, seeking the comfort offered by contact with the blade. "Who are you?" She asked her eyes narrowing at Jachiel.
word count: 421
Common ~ Ith'Ession ~ Lorien
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A Clash of Blades

Mon Feb 20, 2017 1:17 am

He turned at the sound, took in the wings and bare feet, weapons and armour, with a brisk but courteous study, and straightened. "I could ask the same of you," he said, with a slight shrug that settled his own padding round him. He tried to keep his voice neutral, though his eyes remained wary. A part of him was aware that Avriels didn't come to this ground, but the rest of him didn't seem to care at that moment. "My name's Jachiel." He pronounced it Jay-sheel. "I understood I was to wait here for an expert who would assess how the retraining of my own fighting skills is coming along. Most of whom, in my experience so far, do their assessments by chasing me all over the sparring squares," and he nodded to the dusty squares of grassed over dirt with a wry, self-mocking, smile, "with a blade in their hand and mine, hence the protection and weapon." He raised a mousy eyebrow at her. "I rather thought you were that expert when you arived as you are," he added, with a nod towards her swords. "But perhaps I was mistaken?"

He kept his distance from her, and left his sword sheathed so that his hand was free, walking out into the middle of the nearest square and turning to face Nightshade. That his gladius was positioned for left-handed access would only betray that he fought sinister, but the movement, and especially the turn, would betray just how badly his right arm was damaged to anyone with skill. Not that he'd ever been right handed, but he was happy to let someone assume he had been if it made them underestimate him. He shrugged again. "If you're not, and you're looking for a sparring partner, I can do my best to oblige. I don't have the skill I used to," and an involuntary grimace at the memory flickered across his face, "but I'm working on that."
Last edited by Jachiel on Wed Feb 22, 2017 1:29 am, edited 1 time in total. word count: 338
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Nightshade Eld
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A Clash of Blades

Wed Feb 22, 2017 1:28 am

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She gave a rueful smile and a huff. "I am no expert to any who I came across," she said. That was an understatement of her skills but of course the woman lacking any semblance of confidence glossed over any skill she might have and summed it up to the average attacking ability of one who had been raised with the intent of protecting herself. "I however have never turned down a sparing match my entire life over. So if it's a test of skill you want I would be happy to offer up my skills," she said with a slight tilt of her head as she spoke. The comparatively avian action was quickly righted as she took on a fighting stance to emphasize her point.

"Skill is something forgotten but never lost. It just needs to be remembered and woken back up," she said as she watched his stance. She was a legend when it came to blade fighting, the fact she was alive betrayed her skills. But that was only if one had context to the kind of life she led. She kept her movements fluid, easy and natural. Her gait was almost like water or the wind, powerful and focused as if she knew exactly what she was doing and how she was going to do it. She took a moment of pause before deciding to pull out Love Struck. The kinder of her two blades danced easily in her hand. The burgundy blade had been a gift of the immortals some time ago, she sighed gently thinking about the battle at the tomb of Tried, how the events that took place still haunted her. She trained her eyes on her weapon, focusing enough to see the slight pinkish glint that she'd convinced herself was there.

Her vision then moved towards Jachiel. She was far from the most observant person, but her knowledge of fighting served her well in her estimation of his condition. Though she wouldn't be quick to jump the bow and assume the fighter before her to be helpless. She'd been practicing enough to learn that fighting with your left hand was a feasible action, easy if one had been born to do so. There was always the chance that he had always been that way. Her eyes narrowed slightly as she took a deep breath in and then released it, urging all the muscles in her body to relax. A task easier said than done, but a task she had learned how to force.

"Ready whenever you are," she said with a gentle smile. She was not fighting for her life, there was no reason to fight aggressively. So her demeanor remained gentle.
word count: 454
Common ~ Ith'Ession ~ Lorien
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A Clash of Blades

Fri Feb 24, 2017 10:05 pm

He nodded in acceptance of her offer to spar and drew his gladius with a neat economical movement. "In my case it isn't just remembering, it's also about adapting. My balance points changed, among other things." He bit the last few words off with a grimace, unwilling to give away more on that than he had to. Instead, he studied her. Nightshade moved with a relaxed fluidity that spoke to him of skill, despite her unexpectedly gentle demeanor and her denials. Jachiel took up his stance with his left foot at the front, pointing to his opponent, his right foot pointed off to the side, and his knees flexed so that he was fairly well balanced to dodge in any direction. Dodging was likely to be his best defence wthout a shield to hide behnd and this stance also gave the most protection to his bad arm. His left-handed would put his blade on the same side as a right-handed fighter. It made some common moves not work nearly so well - unless you were used to that situation as well as the normal right-to-right cross-body setup - and he probed with quick, simple jabs to see how well Nightshade adapted to that.

His own moves were efficient but not particularly graceful, hindered by the deadweight of his bad arm, as he began to circle her. He flicked his blade out and up, aiming to hit the underside of her forearms. He eyed her wings, wondering how much protection the feathers gave them, but left them alone - for now. He hadn't sparred an avriel before, but he was always willing to learn from new opponents and races. Better, he reckoned, to make your mistakes on the practice grounds where it was unlikely to be fatal, than in a real battle where your first mistake could be your last.
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Nightshade Eld
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A Clash of Blades

Sat Apr 08, 2017 9:53 pm

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Night smirked slightly as her opponent attempted to test the waters. It was easy enough to dodge the attacks. Her wings gave an added boost to her mobility that gave her the advantage right out of the gate. He wasn't able to hit her and she had yet to lift her blade. Her ease was something that came with arcs of practice, and skill. As her father had told her so many times, she left her mother with the will to fight and a sword in her hands. A shame she did, it seemed that sword had killed her mother. With her mind distracted her opponent was allowed to faintly land a single hit on her form, specifically her right shoulder. The enemy's gladius nipped at her arm, grazing the skin and lightly cutting through cloth. Ever so faintly a line of red liquid started to form and seep into her clothing, though with such a wound it was quick to clot and cease it's annoyances. It was something almost nonexistence, she could of gotten the wound scratching her shoulder to hard or falling out of a tree, but the cut flipped a switch in her mind. Her thoughts honed in on the fact she was in the middle of a battle, there wasn't time to be spacing out.

The eyes of the half breed narrowed as she flung her wings out to their full span. They were larger than the wings of the average avirel, let alone that of a half avriel. There had to be some boon for the difficulty that came with walking, large clawed feet considered. She turned quickly and angled herself so the she was face to face with the man who was trying to circle her. She would not allow him to get around back of her. The burgendy weapon danced in her hand as she knocked a couple of his hits off course and decided to deliver a couple of her own. She was able to use the momentum of his own weapon against him when he tried to attack her, parrying the blows. With a powerful beat of her pitch black wings she stirred up a gust, aiming to both launch herself backwards and hopefully stagger her opponent. The wind she created was a true gale, the strength of her wings just like her sword arm was something not to be underestimated despite her modest and gentle nature.

After she'd put some distance between herself and her foe she ran a finger across her cut, a small amount of red coming away on her finger. She looked at the liquid that had now stained her finger and turned her eyes towards her foe. "I guess you're one to skip play time," she mused flicker her hand away and allowing a droplet or two of her own blood to splatter across the sparring ground. She turned her blade slightly in her hand so she was fighting with the edge that was dull, she had a goal in mind now but that goal still wasn't to actually injure her opponent. Well, injure his body. She'd allowed him to get a hit on her, so perhaps she'd try to injure his pride now just a touch. The thought was less spiteful and more playful. The half breed didn't actually have the capacity for spite.

She darted forward quickly trying to smack her foe with the dull end of her blade. If she was lucky and hit him in the right spot then she might be able to wind him. The nature and the curve of her sword made her much faster in short and choppy attacks, but she couldn't very well swing. If her enemy tried to attack her while she was up close like this there was always the chance she'd be hit, but he'd have to take a hit as well and she always could pull out Red Brand and use him to parry. She had been practicing dual wielding and her skills with her left hand for a reason.
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Common ~ Ith'Ession ~ Lorien
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A Clash of Blades

Mon Apr 17, 2017 8:10 pm

She evaded his probes apparently effortlessly, as her wings gave her extra mobility, and the smirk she gave him produced a tightening of his own mouth. He had enough control not to show more than that, but she was clearly much better than he was and used to facing left handed weapons. She hadn't even raised her own blade. He got one tiny cut in on her right shoulder, and then her huge wings flared out. The grey, sourceless light gleamed through the tips of the feathers, so that she looked like a creature made of stars and night.

She spun to face him as he circled her, batted aside his sword, and beat her wings. The gust that hit him as a result whipped his straggling hair into his face, kicked up a cloud of dust from the dry ground, and sent him staggering back a pace. He caught himself more slowly than he would have liked, and the dust made his eyes water. He swiped at them with his good wrist, sword cocked protectively away from him, and when they cleared, his opponent was some distance away. She flicked a drop of blood off her finger into the dust - as if that would be enough to lay it - and ran at him with her sword.

She moved faster than he ever could. He saw only one method of escape - if he was even quick enough to make it. He lifted his own blade and charged to meet her, aiming to duck under her blade, ram his shoulder into her guts, and knock her knee out from under her with the flat of his blade. He didn't see her blow coming, only felt it hammer the air from him and send him tumbling off to the side. He landed hard on his right shoulder, rolled instinctively, and came up into a defensive kneeling position, even as he gasped for breath and blinked stars and sweat from his eyes. Despite the position, he was going to be incredibly vulnerable to more blows until he got his breath and his sight back. Had he hit her? He hoped so - if she was recovering too, that would buy him time - but he wasn't sure. And she'd claimed not to be an expert? Sure she wasn't, and he had six arms...
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Nightshade Eld
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A Clash of Blades

Wed Apr 19, 2017 8:31 pm

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Apparently Jachiel would be growing some more arms soon because the woman who he had picked a fight with wasn't an expert of her dangerous craft. She was far past it.

Her opponent was able to knock her feet out from under her, an interesting strategy to say the least, though unfortunately for him she was no fool. She'd expected him to make some kind of attack and had her entire body braced. There was no lying that the hit hurt, but she wasn't thrown enough to lose control of the situation. Instead of falling over or getting winded, both of which she was close to doing, her wings and muscle memory took control. The feathery appendages threw her into the air with a great and practiced force, it took a lot of effort to take off without any wind or preparation after all. It took her a moments pause to actually get up into the air, her body stalling as she tried to summon the force needed to propel herself upwards. She was able to do it nonetheless, and in a far faster manner than most with wings would have been able to.

She watched her opponent with narrowed eyes, giving both herself and him a moment of pause to reclaim their breath and stamina. "I didn't hurt you too badly did I? I would hate to hurt someone who didn't actually deserve it. We can end the fight here if you'd like. I think we've both seen enough to know what you need to work on?" She offered up. Out of caution for the situation she did not land, she was offering a white flag but she wasn't going to be a fool and hand herself over with a bow on top.
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Common ~ Ith'Ession ~ Lorien
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A Clash of Blades

Mon Apr 24, 2017 8:08 pm

No attack came, only the beating of wings, and he lifted his head to see her hovering out of reach. He flexed various bits of him that hurt, then shrugged - and winced. "Just bruises, and the padding took the worst of it. Thank you for asking. Are you all right?" He climbed a little carefully to his feet and lowered his sword. "Certainly we can end it there. I greatly appreciate the opportunity to spar someone so skilled, so thank you for that."

He stepped back to give her more space to land, and avoid having dust blown in his face, and a quick smile flicked across his face. "Indeed, that does give me some idea of where I need to improve, though I think I'll have just a little difficulty growing a pair of wings..." His voice was light for once, still slightly breathless from the fall, and amused. As far as he was concerned he was also putting up a white flag. "You use some very interesting techniques. If you wanted to give me pointers, though, I wouldn't turn them down. Or if I can return the favour some other way. Let me know."

Right now, in the dream, he meant it. Whether he'd remember it when he woke was another matter, but he was accustomed to trading favour for favour, and didn't like debts of that kind hanging over him. For now, he looked up at her once more, and then bowed, inferior to superior, acknowledging the defeat and her expertise in one neat motion.
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Nightshade Eld
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A Clash of Blades

Fri Apr 28, 2017 1:52 pm

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"I'm perfectly fine," she said with a small laugh. "A scratch and a couple sore spots, but nothing too horrible," she said. The blood around her cut had already become dry. She couldn't associate and kind of pain with a cut, it was just sort of there. It just kind of existed. Not much more to it. She shifted in the air slightly, for some reason she'd begun to feel uncomfortable like she was forgetting something. Something important. Something she had to go do perhaps? But where even was she, how could she go do it?

When he sparing partner moved she quickly took the chance to land, pulling in her wings at a certain distance and allowing herself to drop. Her feet splayed, easily caught her weight. She felt a small shock run up part of her body as she came into contact with the earth, but she ignored it. It was something she got often from her landings. "Oh trust me, you don't want a pair of wings. Sometimes I wonder if they cause more trouble than worth. I'd chop them off if I thought it would help, but certainly the situation would get even worse from there," she said running a hand across the feathery appendage. She'd gotten into so much trouble all because of them. Guards looked at her funny, people in bars wanted to fight her more often, but slowly she was starting to change that. Maybe there would come a day where half breeds like herself could be accepted. If she just kept fighting, kept proving her valor, kept her nobility and honor close as Her Lady demanded, perhaps one day she'd get her goal. But for now it was the pipe dream of a lonely and fearful half avriel without a single trust worthy companion to her name. "Then again, I don't think I'd be able to give up being able to fly," she muttered to herself quietly. To cut off her wings would be the same as a Mer carving up their gills. It wouldn't help the situation and it would just rob them of their true home. Once you've flown, well, there's no going back. She felt pity for the avriel who were clipped, not to mention half breeds like Noth who couldn't properly use their wings.

"You don't have to repay me in any way! Really, honestly, it was my pleasure. I love getting to spar with others because it always gives me new ideas on how to deal with a situation. If you get cocky then even the best masters can be slain by an apprentice. Not to mention with a little effort an apprentice can easily become a master. It's one of the lessons my pa taught me when I was just a fledgling, he's why I try so hard to be the best fighter I can be in any form or style. Well, that and my job kind of demands it," she said with a small laugh.*** "As for pointers, I would say work on your mobility or your ability to take a hit. My wings are able to get me out of danger if the situation gets too hairy. At this point I've met few who out match my speed. But that isn't really an option for you. It best to always have an escape, a back up plan. Like a couple moments ago when I called off the fight. You didn't even realize that you'd managed to wind me because I was able to get myself out of the situation. Escape plans are the most important thing to a good warrior. After all, swift tell their tales while the dead speak no wisdom. Besides that I'd say just work on building up your strength. It's obvious you know how to fight, your stance isn't that of a beginner, but it's also obvious you've fallen out of practice. Your sword arm is weak and slow. I'm not sure if that's because lack of practice or if you've had to switch from your dominant, but either way it's good to build up strength. It's also good to find a way to make up for any weaknesses you may or may not have," she said sparing a glance at his right arm. "Any disability can be a strength, if you know how to use it."

To emphasis her point the half breed lifted up a foot. "I can't run, at least not very well. It's a simple fact of life that my feet weren't made for such an activity. True I could always learn, it's not out of my capability, but it would be seasons before I actually was able to. But I don't need to run, I have wings. Instead my talons make for a deadly extra weapon if I somehow become disarmed. You always have two weapons, yours as well as your opponents. It's a valuable things to be able to protect yourself if you lose your blade, it's even better to be able to steal your foe's."

After she'd run down everything she could think of she sighed. "I need to go. There's something I have to do..." she said. Her eyes narrowed as she tried to remember. "Till we meet again comrade, may the winds be kind and your blade sharp," she said in a warm tone. Her voice was a purr of companionship, an acknowledgment of her opponent's skill and worthiness to fight along side her. Perhaps not then, but soon with strength and practice. With that she took off, gone into the endless gray.
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Common ~ Ith'Ession ~ Lorien
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