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Enter The Dummy
Thu Jun 15, 2006 14:22
82.33.79.177 (XFF: 172.20.24.56)

Valla did not want a fair fight. She wanted someone with the grace and speed of a three legged pig. Half the intelligence; optional. It was not due to a desperation for victory, rather, not entirely due to a desperation for victory. Yes, she was speedy. Yes, was agile. No, she couldn’t remember half of the exploratory feints and probing slashes that made up The Cat Dances on the Wall. This was the time to learn, while she had a Sei’Tar who was obliged to help, rather than at some time in the murky future when she became the one obliged to help the Sei’Tar. So, by necessity a practise dummy is required.

A particularly stocky young man stepped up. With shoulders as wide as Valla was tall, he took up space in the yards in the way that oxen took up space in the fields. Well muscled, powerful and probably a ‘first punch takes them out’ sort of mentality by the look of the scars on his knuckles. Almost perfect. Valla could also see the easy grip on the lathes, the calloused palms; her eyes narrowed. He was too relaxed to be a complete novice.

Too late, he had clacked the lathes together and stepped back with a grin and a flick of his sweaty dark hair. Valla beamed back as toothily as her scar would allow and stepped into Taer'Val. Shakily, her opponent took up Los’Val. The sun glanced off the sheen of sweat over his brow, the Saldaean observed as she consciously slowed and quieted her breath. Both Aethan’Tar were nervous, she realized, not something she would expect if he had the experience she had thought previously.

“I’m Arken.”

She moved fast, his chest too widely unprotected by the offensive stance that he’d adopted to be resisted for long. Ribbon In The Air, she had chosen, mainly for ease than any real strategy. With a grunt Arken brought down his lathes with enough force to batter her attack toward the ground, the lathes rattling harshly together. Her attempt abandoned, the Saldaean took a half step back, regained control, and moved into Mosiev’Val.

“Valla.”

Too many things to think about. The Void remained untouchable. Valla watched Arken’s tongue dart out to wet his lips as he watched her from behind the Forward Guard. It reminded her of her own keen thirst even as she tried to forget those small thoughts. Rocking back and forth for a moment from her knees as she tried to recall the flourishes of The Cat Dances On The Wall, Valla was taken by surprise by the swift thrust of Hummingbird Kisses The Honeyrose.

Leaping back a good few feet she automatically flew into The Cat Dances On The Wall, substituting the thrusts she had forgotten with a few jabbing twists of her own. Giving herself the time she needed to bring up the increasingly heavy lathes to Los’Val for a moment and attempt The River Undercuts the Bank. The angle of her would-be blade might have been correct to behead a similar sized opponent to herself, but merely scraped over Arken’s left upper arm.

Her crowing of triumph was short-lived, however, as Arken twisted and turned into a surprisingly graceful The Cat Dances On The Wall. His powerful thrusts forced her clattering lathes aside with contemptuous ease to prod her lower leg painfully. Dropping to one knee, Valla’s face became like thunder. She was lost, she knew. How terribly vexing.

Well, if Valla was going to lose then Arken was going to hurt.

Adopting the offensive Forward guard once more the girl waited patiently for her challenger to finish her off. Arken was again, surprising, for he seemed almost reluctant to approach again. Screwing up her violet eyes against the torturously slow dripping of her sweat from forehead to cheek, Valla could just about understand why. Arken was struggling. Red-faced, sweating far worse than she, and breathing like a broken winded horse Arken tried to regain composure in the relatively un-taxing Mosiev'Val.

She wondered if he could be tired enough to allow the tip of his lathes to drop into the dust at his feet.

Unfortunately, from her knees he was far from reach and so she would have to wait until the well built young man made the first move. Valla knew that without the use of her leg that she had lost her nimble agility, her power play. It would be best for her to begin adopting a defensive stance and form if she wanted to last much longer in this spar. Plus, her arms hurt.

Arken seemed to have recovered, or at least, made up his mind. Advancing in Taer’Val he drew back his lathes for a finishing stroke. Valla tightened her grip, frozen in Los’Val. Arken began his swing, all his energy pouring into a slash of Ribbon in the Air that would strike the side of Valla’s neck. However, Valla began her own attack, another swing that she poured her irritation into. Her own horizontal slash a rough kneeling version of The River Undercuts the Bank. She closed her eyes as she anticipated the impact of Arken’s lathes.

“That was sneaky.” Arken whispered.

Sweat stung Valla’s violet eyes as she opened the lids. Just a hair’s breadth away from her neck hovered the tip of her rival’s weapon. Her own had stopped tickling his ribs.

“Suicidal, but sneaky.” Valla corrected.

  • Swing it, shake it, move it, Spar it.Harin Rieldred, Sei'Tar, Sun Jun 11 05:47
    Harin watched as the more pitiful attempts became… less pitiful. The forms were executed with a complete lack of precision or poise, but what they did have, was promise. Some seemed pleased with... more
    • Lesson ClosedRick, Tue Jun 20 04:13
      Nice job guys. Thanks to all who took part. Credit is awarded to: Sarin, Aethan'Tar Riani, Aethan'Tar Valla, Aethan'Tar Sirestes, Aethan'Tar. I will be e-mailing Jeremy with credit later today. So... more
    • To Be Practical or Orthodox?Sirestes Aethan'Tar, Sun Jun 18 08:04
      Sirestes appeared to have done well enough with this activity, it seemed, for he was feeling confident in his skills when the time came to progress. He claimed no mastery over the weapon, but thought ... more
    • Enter The Dummy — Valla Karajan, Aethan'Tar, Thu Jun 15 14:22
    • An Expected LossRiani Aethan'Tar, Wed Jun 14 13:55
      Sparring, Riani thought, gritting her teeth, oh, that’s just great. Excellent. Her mouth should have been dripping with the sarcasm of her unspoken words, but Riani had had sixteen years of practise... more
    • Wood as SteelSarin Cordana - Aethan'Tar, Sun Jun 11 18:08
      Sarin scratched his chin as he listened to the Sei’Tar lay out the rules for their spars. He smirked when he heard that if you got hit in the leg you lost use of it, he couldn’t imagine himself... more
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