Swordsmanship(any sword character)

OoC: This is for anyone that has a character that uses a sword, and isn't for magic users. NO magic. Magic=bad. Ok moving on.

BiC:

Kichaa stood in the Colosseum, spinning around slowly. There weren't games here for another few days, but Kichaa loved to just stand in the pit. The dirt walls were held in place by roots and stones left from before it was dug out, and a layer of sand covered the floor. It smelled of dust, with a touch of the sea breeze as well, and the sun beat down on him from high above. Two doors led into the pit, one from the holding cells down below- all manner of criminals called this a temporary home-, and the other from the ground above, nearly twenty feet up.

Kichaa unsheated his blade slowly and began whipping it through the air, enjoying the whistling sounds it made. The pit was solitary at the moment, so Kichaa began to practice a few sword attacks, only to be interupted by the sound of an openning door.

"Care to spar?" a voice came from behind him.

OoC: Alrighty, man. I'm going to accept your battle if you don't mind. ^_^

I think I've set up a pretty interesting story and as you write you can include why your character is there and etc. Just remember to put lots of detail in and really get into your story! You've got a pretty promising writing style I think. Just be sure to be descriptive of your character, surroundings, and the action and you'll be golden.

By the way, I'll be using Aidan. His biography is in my signature!

BiC: Aidan sat in the crowded, noisy bar eyeing a good-looking wench serving drinks. A thick smoke hung in the room like a dense fog. The bar was all hustle and bustle with people gambling, drinking, smoking, and dancing to the musicians’ upbeat melodies. With thoughts of his beloved Alexia dulled by the strong liquor, the miserable and loathing shell of what was left of the once proud knight sat fascinated in a pseudo-erotic moment. Aidan was fixated on the serving wench.

Now fairly drunk, the former knight rose from his seat by the bar and walked over to the girl as she walked throughout the bar serving drinks. Her thin dress wrapped over her delicate curves. Aidan noticed her slender neck and how her loose dress hung over her shoulder so innocently. Her large bosom rose and fell as she breathed and the lustful drifter felt as though he could feel her heart beating from where he stood. She turned and locked eyes with him for a moment. His piercing gray eyes captivated her and her mouth opened ever so slightly. In that instant, Aidan knew that he had to have her. It wasn’t so much a matter of infatuation or attraction, but rather that of raw desire.

He approached her, and in his drunken state, hung his head beside her own. His handsomeness was one that could burn even the coldest heart, so the serving girl was more than taken by him. After whispering his own desires to her and fulfilling the innermost need of compliments that any young beautiful girl wants, young Nora was more than willing to yield to the touch of this tall and handsome man.

……

Later that night, Aidan and his young lover raged in the throws of passion. The two were exhausted beyond belief and lay beside one another panting. Still partially drunk, Aidan smiled into the darkness of the tiny inn room he was staying in. He was in a soft bed for the first time in weeks. What’s more, he had a beautiful, young, nude girl who was more than willing to give herself to him as much as he could want. Nothing could have been better for him.

The two talked late into the night. Nora told the man about her life and what she wanted from it. Aidan was not near as eager to talk about his life. No one with such a past would want to share it with anyone. He did satisfy her by telling her fantastic stories of places that he had been and events that he had seen. That’s when the young girl curled up to Aidan and said, “Can I tell you something?”

……

The former knight walked throughout the hills and finally he could see it. The colosseum. He was looking for a criminal there. A criminal that could tell him something that only he would know.

Upon arriving inside the arena, Aidan opened the door to see a tall, muscular man that was practicing attacks with his blade. He noticed the odd birthmarks on his arms. They almost resembled stars.
He may be here for the same reason I am. I can’t allow that.

“Care to spar?” Aidan asked sarcastically. The young man spun around. “I know you’re not practicing those moves for nothing.”

He didn’t know he this young man was and he did not care. Aidan was there for one reason and no one would get in his way. He was there to find Nora’s father.

Kichaa's eyes widened slightly at the stranger. His long white hair seemed to have a will of its own, flowing with the breeze that had started gently, only to be funneled by the pit. The man's grey eyes were cold and aloof, making Kichaa wonder what someone like him- though he didn't understand what that kind of someone was- would be here. The man was wearing scarred iron armor, but didn't seem very aware of the burden... he reminded Kichaa of a few knights he'd seen on parade, though usually they wore colored armor with some kind of crest emblazened on them.

The man had pierced right to the heart of Kichaa's practice. Why was I practicing? Kichaa wondered absently, shifting his eyes to the ground in front of him. The man seemed more intimidating than the Duke, partly because the Duke was friendly, and partly because Kichaa'd never met him. The wind had stopped as suddenly as the man entered, allowing the small bits of sand that had been kicked up to settle slowly on the floor and walls. Kichaa had heard once that a knight was the most powerful foe one could face, and if this man was what he thought, he would be an interesting sparring partner.

"Sure," Kichaa replied, shifting his eyes back to the man, albeit humbly, "Might as well."

The man was shorter than Kichaa, but by the way he hefted his large sword it was obvious that his own strength was far superior. The man shifted his weight in order to find purchase on the sandy floor, Kichaa following the example after bowing slightly. Kichaa raised his blade to his left shoulder-blade, a defence-ready poise he'd learned from his father. The white-haired stranger strode forward, closing the distance between them in mere seconds, swinging powerfully with both hands.

Strong, Kichaa noted silently, even as his hands recovered from the jarring blow. He'd just barely managed to deflect it off to the right, but the man was on the attack again. He brought the blade up from below, trying to catch Kichaa's right leg, but Kichaa had already moved to flank him, bringing Rose of Summer down on the man's shoulder. The blow clanged off harmlessly, but the man was- even if not impressed- more on guard than before, and swung mightily at Kichaa's torso. Kichaa dodged nimbly out of the way again before leaping in with a lunge. This proved a mistake however, as the knight slammed his elbow into Kichaa's forearm, jerking it down. The Kichaa's arm throbbed from the blow, but he avoided another attack by moving with the blow, spinning to the left and falling unceremoniously onto his back.

The blow the knight attempted passed harmlessly overhead by the time Kichaa was swinging his legs around at him. The man fell down beside Kichaa, who swung his legs back and lept upright, dodging away to avoid making a similar mistake. The warrior was standing up as well, but Kichaa was in the midst of attack. He narrowly missed the man again, the knight's torso moving out of the way just in time for Rose of Summer to jab itself into the ground.

Neither combatant was tiring, but Kichaa commented, "Any interest in giving up?"

OoC: Thanks for the tips, I'll keep it in mind

OoC: Sorry about the wait. I've been a little busy with college junk. Better late than never, no?

Oh and I've got a suggestion if you don't mind hearing it. You do a very good job describing Aidan in different ways. "White-haired stranger" and that other stuff is good. See if you can apply that to your own character as well! Instead of using "Kichaa" everytime, mix it up a little. You could call him a young swordsman or a valiant warrior or whatever.

Anyway, on to the good stuff!

BiC: Aidan backed away from the young swordsman. He let out a slight chuckle and gripped his large sword tightly with both hands.

“I have never given up anything in my life except my humanity. You’ll certainly not see me lay down my sword to someone such as yourself,” the arrogant man conceded. The other man’s brown hair blew in the slight breeze that whirled the dust around in the seemingly deserted colosseum.

Kichaa pulled his sword from the ground with a smile.

“I expected as much,” he said confidently, “I have no intentions of giving up either.”

Aidan noticed the special rose that adorned the hilt of the other swordsman’s blade. It was a much more intricate and delicate looking sword than his own. His own blade was long and wide with an unimpressive long hilt. The former knight looked up over the length of his dangerous blade at the numerous notches and indentions that marked his numerous battles. The sword was much like its wielder. The blade was damaged, worn, and crude but it was resilient, ever dangerous, and powerful.

“Are you as fragile as the rose that’s on your hilt?” Aidan asked mockingly. Kichaa stared at him as though his words meant nothing to him. “It’s going to take much more than a fancy sword to keep up with a real swordsman. Why else would you be practicing? Real swordsmen don’t need to practice. They’re always ready.”

Kichaa’s brown hair blew into his face and he brushed it aside. He pulled his sword up at an angle in an offensive position.

“I am a swordsman,” he boasted, “Try me and see.”

Without warning, Aidan obliged. He dashed across the empty space of the colosseum balancing his blade on his shoulder, thus freeing his right hand from the hilt. Kichaa stood ready unwavering in the former knight’s path. Aidan violently swung his sword from its dormant position on his shoulder in a diagonal motion toward his new rival. Showing great flexibility and speed, the talented warrior ducked and the dangerous blade soared over his back toward the ground. In an unanticipated move, the deceitful Aidan released his grip on his large sword and allowed the tip to plow into the ground kicking up all sorts of dirt and debris from the ground. In the same motion of releasing his large sword, he grabbed his smaller sword at his right side and jabbed it toward the lowered fighter’s face. He quickly moved his face aside and the smaller blade narrowly missed its mark. Aidan stood almost motionless, as did the other warrior. The blade rested on Kichaa’s temple and a few of his long, brown strands of hair drifted toward the ground.

Aidan’s piercing gray eyes peered at the other man’s face. A bead of sweat ran down his face beside the blade.

“You’re sweating,” the former knight quipped, “Are you nervous because you’re out of your league, or because you’re scared of dying?” A smile spread across Kichaa’s face and he glanced down toward Aidan’s slightly bent leg. The blade that was so delicate looking earlier was poised to strike the former knight’s leg. Aidan became aware of this also. His eyes sprung back up from his leg and into brown eyes that met them.

A bead of sweat dripped from the battle-hardened veteran’s eyebrow.

OoC: College eh? My bro's in college too. Thanks for the tips btw, I appreciate the help. (I'll be the first to say I could use it :wink: )

BiC:
"No one's scared of dying," Kichaa remarked casually, before jerking his head against the large sword at his temple, allowing his neck to bend and his head to pass under it. Spinning up slowly and gracefully, the boy's shoulder pushed his foes blade away just as Kichaa righted himself and dodged to the side. The war sword's slash missed him by scant but an inch as he moved out of the way, coming to a halt a meter or so away from the swordsman opposite him, "but most are afraid of losing."

Kichaa launched himself forward at the stranger quickly, taking advantage of the sand floor by toppling in the face of the knight's blade, then rolling to the side and leaping up to perform a quick slice at his foe. The knight blocked it awkwardly with his over-large sword, then tried another full swing at his young opponent. Kichaa leapt beackwards, then back in before the man could recover, slicing cleanly through the stranger's armor at the waist. The blow did nothing however, merely a strike in appearance, drawing no blood whatsoever, leading Kichaa to comment, "How much do you wear under that armor? Or is there nothing?"

The stranger appeared about to give Kichaa a tongue lashing when the young man lunged forward, stopping insanely close to the armored man, then spun quickly around him, leaving him back to back with his foe, then pushed. The knight lost his balance and sent his blade directly into the ground to catch his fall. He was up as fast as he went down, however, and Kichaa was forced to duck and spin out of the way, yet again, and attempt to sweep the man's legs from under him. The man was too fast this time though, and jumped just enough to spin in midair- despite his undoubtedly heavy armor- and bring his blade down on Rose of Summer. The blow sent waves of pain into Kichaa's hands, forcing him to drop his sword. He rolled out of the way just in time, finally understanding that this man would kill him if he got the chance. The knight sneered arrogantly at the younger swordsman, cruel pleasure forcing his lips upward in a smile.

"Looks like you lose," he told Kichaa, walking calmly over to the young man's blade and kicking it across the pit in the opposite direction, "Afraid now?"

OoC: Sorry about the wait.

I want to point out something in your post. It was all very good, but you can use statements to strike a mood sometimes!

Example:

"No one's scared of dying," Kichaa remarked casually, before jerking his head against the large sword at his temple, allowing his neck to bend and his head to pass under it. Spinning up slowly and gracefully, the boy's shoulder pushed his foes blade away just as Kichaa righted himself and dodged to the side. The war sword's slash missed him by scant but an inch as he moved out of the way, coming to a halt a meter or so away from the swordsman opposite him, "but most are afraid of losing."

That's good! There's nothing really wrong with that at all! But you can make it stronger. Compare that to this:

"No one's scared of dying," Kichaa remarked casually, before jerking his head against the large sword at his temple, allowing his neck to bend and his head to pass under it. Spinning up slowly and gracefully, the boy's shoulder pushed his foes blade away just as Kichaa righted himself and dodged to the side. The war sword's slash missed him by scant but an inch as he moved out of the way, coming to a halt a meter or so away from the swordsman opposite him.

"But most are afraid of losing!"

Everything is exactly the same, but now the statement is being used to show more emotion and really set a different sort of tone. You kind of see what I'm saying? Using statements in that fashion can really add emotion to a battle to make it even better. ^_^

BiC: Kichaa looked over at his blade that was now separated from him. The ex-knight loosened the grip on his mammoth blade.

“No,” Kichaa answered in response to Aidan’s question.

“Okay,” the former knight said. He hefted his sword up and began tapping it rhythmically against his plated shoulder. “Now, I know you’re not stupid enough to make a run for that sword. You’d get skewered. So tell me what the hell you’re doing here.” The taller man opposite him shook his head. Clearly not intimidated, he smirked and looked into his piercing gray eyes.

“Why should I be the one to explain myself,” he replied, “I was here first. You should be the one to explain yourself.” Aidan narrowed his eyes and grimaced as though he was not pleased with the response. His tapping blade came to a rest, propped on his shoulder.

“Sure,” he said changing his expression, “I’m here to find somebody. Now, you can die at least knowing that I didn’t come here intending to kill you.” Kichaa’s eyes widened as he noticed the menacing stranger shift his weight to his toes. He knew he was about to dash. Without a moment to lose, he launched himself toward his blade. At that same time, Aidan came for him. The young swordsman leaped, landed on his shoulder, and transitioned into a roll. He grabbed his sword and jerked it up quickly to intercept the coming blade. The opposing swords struck with such force, they bounced off of one another for a second before clashing again. Aidan used his leverage to try and force his young rival all the way to the ground. Kichaa was up from his roll in a kneeling postion holding his blade above his head as the opposing foe sought to lop his head in half.

Bastard’s fast….and strong.

With shaking knees, Kichaa began to rise slowly under the pressure of the former knight’s colossal blade. Aidan could scarcely believe that he was able match his own strength. His legs shook as he locked his knees. The two were now standing toe-to-toe in a test of strength. Sparks shot from the intense friction caused by the grinding blades. It seemed that neither of the warriors were able to best the other. Decevious and dangerous, Aidan decided not to waste any more time with this valiant, young man.

Time to end this.

Aidan quickly jerked his blade away from Kichaa. The young swordsman wasn’t expecting such a tactic and he lost his balance and fell forward. The seasoned veteran planted his shoulder in the stumbling fighter’s knees, knocking him over his shoulder, and onto the sandy ground. The desperate young man swung his sword from the ground at Aidan’s ankles in a last ditch effort to cut his legs out from under him, but the blade was stepped on and planted against the ground by the former knight’s heavy boot. He used his other boot and kicked dirt and sand into the eyes of the downed Kichaa. He knew it wasn’t an honorable move, but honor didn’t bring him here. What honor he did have, he lost a long time ago.

Kichaa’s hands went up to his face as he tried to get the dirt and sand out of his eyes. Tears from his irritated eyes streamed down his dirty cheeks and saliva flew from his mouth as he tried to cough up the dirt he had inhaled. Aidan once again kicked his blade away.

“Sorry about that,” he said putting his blade back to his shoulder, “These things don’t always end like in the stories you hear.”

He grabbed the hilt of his blade with both hands and prepared to cast his blade down on Kichaa’s head.

The gritty pain in his eyes wasn't enough to take away Kichaa's clarity of mind, though it may have appeared that way with how much rubbing and blinking he was doing, so the young warrior knew just what his foe was doing. The blade would be coming any second now, but Kichaa wasn't going to die here today. Swinging his whole body around through the sand, his knees hit the back of the stranger's shins, sending the man first flying into the air, then unto his back perpendicular to Kichaa. The move had surprised him, but the large sword was already on it's way towards the younger man, who rolled- though not away because his legs were partially trapped under the man- then rolled back on top of the tremendous sword, effectively trapping the blade. He kept rolling until his legs were free, then leapt to his feet again. The white-haired stranger was standing up as well, but if he wouldn't fight fairly neither would Kichaa- who had given him ample chances to be honorable. The young warrior dodged back a space as the blade sliced the air in front of him, then administered a powerful kick onto the man's chestplate, forcing him back down, only then lashing out with the same foot to strike the knight's sword hand.

The sword dropped with a thud, but the man was still down with Kichaa standing over him, their situations reversed, though in a less deadly manner. The knight's face contorted in anger when Kichaa's foot flicked the blade away to clatter against the opposite wall as his own, then planted itself on his chest, "I'm so glad you didn't want to kill me, because you won't get the chance."

The man's gray eyes glittered with mischief, making Kichaa wonder what mistake he'd made. Two hands gripped his ankle firmly and, before he had time to react, twisted it, tripping him facefirst onto the ground. The man rolled on top of him, pressing the young man's face into the sand. The sand blew out in puffs as Kichaa struggled to breath, but the real difficulty was the weight of the man's armor; it pressed into him, and though his own armor prevented any damage, it was heavy. Kichaa put all his strength into attempting to push the man off, rewarding himself when he lifted the man clear off in a push-up, then tipped, forcing him to roll off to Kichaa's left.

Blindly, Kichaa jumped up and ran to retrieve his sword, snatching it up as the other man snatched his... own? They were both holding their opponent's sword, the two blades shined brightly, as they do when the sun is rapidly covered by a cloud. Kichaa's eyes winged upward when he felt drips of water fall onto his face. It rains three times a year, he thought bitterly, And this, is when it happens? Despite his own discomfort, his enemy seemed even more angry because of this.

"Unbelievable," he sputtered, "I've beaten you twice at least, and still you insist on fighting on?"

"I don't believe in murder," Kichaa snapped back, "Even if I'm the victim."

The man's laughter rang flat, dulled by the storm. The downpour had started in earnest, causing the sand to flatten and compact upon itself, and the dirt below it to dampen. The walls were virtually unaffected, but both Kichaa and his enemy were already drenched, though it had just begun. Both men began running at the same time, but Kichaa hopped to the side gracefully before hitting the man, sweaping the large sword down onto his own. The man was obviously unused to the reversal of momentum, as Rose of Summer tumbled out of his hand and into the sand; the man uttered an obscenity just as Kichaa swung the blade again, this time at the man's neck, then when the knight dodged back, dropped the huge blade and retrieved his own sword. He discovered his enemy not only armed, but in mid-attack when he looked back up, a short sword having been drawn from his side.

The young warrior made a small dash towards the door, yelling over the lightning that cracked above them, "What's wrong? Can't handle my blade?"

This infuriated the man, who lunged after the elusive young warrior, only to cut through thin air. The rain fell in sheets as Kichaa spun his way around the armored knight, launching flurries of attacks on the confused man, "Stop moving!" The knight shouted angrily as yet another blow struck his armor.

OoC: Okay, I think I've got my teaching stuff in order now, so back to this. ^_^

I notice that you do this little thing in your posts sometimes.

The move had surprised him, but the large sword was already on it's way towards the younger man, who rolled- though not away because his legs were partially trapped under the man- then rolled back on top of the tremendous sword, effectively trapping the blade.

Instead of using a hyphen, you can use a commas or even divide the sentence up to make it much easier to read:

The move had surprised him, but the large sword was already on its way towards the younger man. Kichaa rolled, but was not able to get away because his legs were partially trapped under the man. He then rolled back on top of the tremendous sword, effectively trapping the blade.

I did that real quick, but you get the idea. Take complex ideas and break them down over a paragraph. It makes it much easier to read and easier to understand! You have a desire to really put into words what's going on but sometimes it gets a little confusing. I think it is primarily because of that. So just sort of break those ideas a little more next time. Nonetheless, it's very good!

BiC: The rain fell heavily as a growlingly frustrated Aidan turned a bright red. Not only had this boy insulted him, he had disrespected his blade. In his eyes, this was a grave mistake. Someone else handling his sword was like an unwelcome advance on an extension of his own body. With his hair hanging in his face, he peered down at the shimmering Rose of Summer. It was such a delicate weapon that required a type of finesse that he did not have the patience or the want to wield.

Piece of sh**.

Aidan looked over at his opponent who was now breathing more heavily. Just as the former knight wasn’t used to this much smaller sword, his rival wasn’t used to his own mammoth blade. Through the water dripping off of the tips of his white hair, Kichaa looked off balance as he wielded the large sword to the best of his ability.

“You’re definitely not a swordsman,” the former knight shouted through the downpour.

“Why is that?” Kichaa asked still not looking as though he had complete balance.

“A true swordsman never parts with his blade. He knows it as though he knows himself,” Aidan answered. His opponent smiled and looked at the blade that he held.

“Funny you should say that,” he said, “Because it seems as though you’ve broken one of your own rules.” The former knight opposite him shook his head and looked down. A sinister smile spread across his face. It certainly looked like an ill omen for Kichaa.

“So it seems, but you forget so easily,” the armor-clad man said. He simply flung the smaller Rose of Summer to the side. He pulled his smaller sword from the sheath that hung at his hip. “A true swordsman is never left at a disadvantage.”

Aidan charged toward his rival, boots splashing in the water that was turning the ground into soft, slippery mud. The former knight saw this as an advantage to himself. Teamed with the unfamiliar sword and the now inclement weather, Kichaa was at a serious disadvantage. The advancing attacker stopped and slid in the mud toward his opponent. He launched the massive blade in an awkward, horizontal slash. The former knight leaped forward at the moment Kichaa attacked, landed on his body and toward his rival’s feet. The brown-headed warrior was able to jump over Aidan and avoid his slide, but upon landing he stumbled to the side under the unfamiliar weight of the sword he wielded.

He’s mine.

Aidan launched a straight thrust aimed to strike his opponent dead. His sword was deflected to the side as Kichaa jerked the large blade in front of the soaring tip just in time. Despite having deflected the near fatal blow, the impact sent the heavy sword to the ground. Kichaa’s eyes opened wide. Aidan’s gray eyes shimmered with a bloodlust. He saw an opening and there was nothing his foe could do about it. With a straight left, the young man’s face seemed to compress under its unforgiving force. Kichaa released the unmanageable sword and flew backwards only to land in the mud. The former knight sheathed his smaller sword and rubbed his aching left hand. His opponent set up on his elbows. A crimson stream of blood ran from the corner of his mouth down over his now soiled face. Aidan grabbed his large sword from the ground and put the blade to his shoulder where it rightfully belonged.

“Look at you sitting there in the mud,” the leering man said. A clap of thunder filled the colosseum. It was almost deafening. “You look like a hog. Dirty and worthless.”

Aidan’s laughter filled the air. Not even the torrential rain could drown out the laughter that echoed throughout the arena.

OoC: Ok, I think you should probably reread my post... I think I included in that post your character already drawing his short sword, as well as getting Rose of Summer back. Good post though.

OoC: Damn. I must have misunderstood that little section. It was a bit confusing because it was all strung together within one sentence.

The man was obviously unused to the reversal of momentum, as Rose of Summer tumbled out of his hand and into the sand; the man uttered an obscenity just as Kichaa swung the blade again, this time at the man's neck, then when the knight dodged back, dropped the huge blade and retrieved his own sword.

Pretty confusing sentence. It's striving for detail, but it's easy to lose place of who is doing what. You see what I mean?

Could you just go with what I wrote so I won't have to rewrite the whole thing? ^^;;

The sand that stuck to Kichaa's face and armor irritated his skin, the pain in his jaw throbbing into his very essence. God, he thought, It's never hurt that much before. This guy is such a jerk...

"There's one thing you're forgetting," Kichaa told the man, letting anger flow into his speech, "A true swordsman has discipline and honor, you seem to have neither. Your perverted view of swordsmanship makes me wonder just how pathetic your past must be, but your actions make me sick enough not to care. You disgrace swordsmen with your very being." Halfway through Kichaa's small monologue, the knight's laughter subsided into silence, his angry face completely unreadable, Kichaa continued, "If you think a swordsman's soul is in his blade you are sorely mistaken, it is in his actions, and in his code of honor. You obviously have no care for either of these things, and are content to live your life in a manner of self-hindrance. You sicken me."

Kichaa, who'd rolled to his feet when taking a breath, now stood face to face with his enemy. The man's face registered little emotion, and none that Kichaa could read. He said not a word, simply turned his back to Kichaa and cocked his head down and to the side slightly. Wonder what he's thinking.

The knight and the swordsman stood like that for a second or two before Kichaa moved forward, "What's wrong with you. Why are you so-"

Kichaa's sentence was cut off when Aidan turned swiftly, unsheathing his short sword in the same movement. Kichaa was forced to leap back to avoid the slice, but Aidan was coming as well. He'll never quit. A new vigor coursed through the young swordsman, lunging under the knight's guard and grabbing onto the sword's pommel. Their eyes were locked, scant but an inch apart, but neither was exerting strength, not wanting a repeat of the last contest. Aidan's foot lashed between Kichaa's, bringing it back hooked on the young man's calf. Kichaa tripped backwards, the man's sword hand plummeting down towards him; the swordsman just barely managed to save himself, at the cost of a gash on his left cheek.

Jerking his hand downward, Aidan's body was once again falling on top of him, but Kichaa rolled to the side quickly. This managed to place them back to back with the knight's arm at an uncomfortable angle, "What's wrong with you!?" Kichaa's yell seemed lost on the knight, the man's mind ignoring the sound even as it pondered Kichaa's death.

Rolling in the direction he was facing and clenching his arms, Aidan successfully wrenched his blade away and escaped the taller man's grasp. He was on his feet in a flash, despite his heavy armor, and stabbing down at his prone foe. The blade hit its mark, and Kichaa's mind flared with the new pain in his chest. The pain! the thought blared in his head. His lung had been pierced by the short sword. His enemy was staring down on him, and he vaguely realized the knight would be staring at a corpse soon...

OoC: Ok, and here is some interesting fun! Does he kill him? I hope not since I took the trouble to revamp him! lol. Sorry about confuzzling myself.

p.s. Like the new name?