Vallenguard 1 - Introduction

With his right hand he twisted his blade to redirect the first attack away from him, as he stepped to his left to avoid the jab and thrusted his blade forward in a counter, only to have it dodged. He lept to his right, moving parallel with his opponent, looking for an opening until finally leaping forward, slashing his right blade downwards then up again, stepping forward on the upward's swing to thrust the other blade forward at his opponents chest

Beautiful. It was beautiful! Yuri breathed.
The two were dancing, their blades striking back and forth, sparking on contact. These two were very skilled. The crowd roared in amazement and watched eagerly who would get hit first.
Yuri saw the elf's quick, elegant movements that probed at Connor's defense, but Connor also had excellent defence and the agility to keep it up, so Soreliss was also having an equally different time.
Yuri wondered who would win this match.

The sword sweeping down towards his head cut through empty air as Soreliss sidestepped the blow, bringing up his shortsword to parry the slower upward stroke. Turning quickly on his heel, he lept backward just far enough to save himself from being pierced, and as quick as thought, lunged forward, bringing up his longsword in his other hand. The thin, keen blade snaked about the length of Connor's outheld blade with a rasping scrape of steel on steel. His adversary's blade caught in his own, Soreliss brought down a sweep of his shortsword, while using his body's weight to put pressure on his opponent's sword arm, attempting to disarm him. Unfortunately, his opponent wieghed considerably more than he did, and he relied on his momentum and Connor's movement to avoid his stroke to wrench the sword from his grasp.

Connor's off hand weapon fell out of his grasp, spiking down into the ground. With his mainhand sword he swiped it towards his opponent's other blade in an effort to counter any offensive the elf might employ. As his sword made contact with his opponent's weapon he moved forward thrusting his open hand out gripping his opponent by the throat, pushing him back towards the wall with tremendous force. His opponent now several feet away his lifted his other blade twisting his body so that he would spin into a powerful sideways slash at his opponent

The force of the shove momentarily left Soreliss without breath, and that moment nearly cost him his life. With his death in glittering steel crying through the air, he had but a moment to react. He popped quickly into the air, bringing his heels behind him against the wall. The sylvan warrior hurtled under the sweeping edge, landing on his hands directly before Connor, With a grunt, Soreliss leaned forward, and pushed himself upwards, straightening his legs as he did so, kicking his opponent, still off-balance from the momentum of the swing, straight into the chest, the best he could reach given his shorter stature.

The force from the thrust carried the slight, leather-clad frame past Connor, reeling from the blow. Soreliss landed on one foot, tipping sideways to begin a short cartwheel, landing on both feet. Straightening, the dancing fighter cursed himself and his traitorous grip; he had lost his longsword in the feat, which was now laying on the ground on the other side of an armoured warrior heavier and larger than he was. Trying to take advantage of the disorientation he had just caused, Soreliss lept at Connor with his shortsword, trying to maneuver his way past the foe by distracting him with short, sudden slashes and quick footwork.

Connor stumbled back a few steps until he finally regained his composure. His opponent was very agile, but he knew that he could over power him if he could find the right moment to strike. That moment seemed to have arrived. The nimble elf in front of him had lost one of his blades, putting Connor into a position of advantage in both striking speed and power. Connor moved forwards slashing his twin blades at his opponent. A downward slash from the right led the way for a left to right slash from his off hand blade. Spinning around with his entire body to put more force into the next attack connor slashed his main hand blade from left to right, finishing this combination with a thrust from his off hand weapon.


In the stands a man hidden in his cloak looked on with joy. A smirk spread across his face as he looked out amongst the crowd of the arena before he stood and walked towards the exit.
"Wont be long now..." the man said quietly to himself

This next sequence of strikes required nothing but every ounce of concentration that Soreliss possessed; his very life possibly depended on reading his opponent.

The first first stroke was simple enough. Whirling away from his opponent, he stepped out of reach of his downward stroke. As Connor's arm contracted for the second stroke, the elf ducked beneath it. A glint caught his eye as he squatted beneath the arc of steel above his head; his longsword, laying but a few feet from his grasp, just past Connor's legs. It was now or never; this harrowing dance couldn't last for much longer.

He struck, leaping forward and cutting at his opponent's thigh with his shortsword, sommersaulting past him, nearly brushing with his oppoent's leg. In this, however, he had forgotten to reckon with Connor's next slash; he had underestimated the speed with which he could recover from the momentum of the swing. The abrupt stroke set Soreliss' acrobatics off-balance, only barely managing to stumble to his feet. The final stab caught the shocked elf along the collarbone, drawing the first blood. The crowd had their first taste.

Stunned momentarily with pain, Soreliss had the sense of mind to scoop his longsword off of the ground as he rushed forward. It was clear that he wouldn't be able to dance about and play his opponent's defenses any longer. He had to take the initiative.

With the sun at Connor's back, a flash of light lept into his eyes as Soreliss flashed a mirror from his palm into the sun's rays, blinding him for a moment, the moment that the elf most needed. His first stroke cut an overhand arc through the brilliant day, clanging against the warrior's blade. Reckoning his response with his offhand sword, Soreliss strafed to the left, darting in with a jab at Connor's shoulder, where the plates met. The path of his longsword cut a figure eight through the air, as his initial slash came around to laterally sweep towards his chest, before Soreliss stepped backward. The pain in his collarbone was starting to ring piercingly through his nerves, but couldn't relent now.

Leaping forward on his heel, his longsword caught Connor's main blade hand, while he tried to get one last shot in at his face with his shortsword.

Partially blinded Connor swung at his opponent, meeting the elf's blade mid swing. He twisted his body to dodge the jab at his shoulders and stepped forward with a thrust that the elf easily dodged and countered with a slash towards his chest, an attack he couldn't avoid. Taking the attack Connor pushed the thoughts of pain to the back of his mind as he ducked under the high stab of the elf, twisting his body as he did so. In his motion he slashed his sword from left to right at the elf's stomach, twisting the blade around in his hand and finished with an uppercut, his blade slicing upwards.

A splatter of blood beat against Connor's armor, smearing its sheen. Gasping, Soreliss dropped to his knees, Connor's uppercut opening a gash in his side. Blood poured from the wound onto the dirt, as the crowd went wild. They had finally gotten the blood they had hungered for throughout the dance.

Soreliss' vision went cloudy, as he vainly tried to push himself to his feet with his blade. As he struggled, he dropped to the ground, his sword slipping through numb fingers.

The crowd went wild.
Yuri seemed a bit disappointed. He had expected Soreliss to win...
Oh well, the two seemed pretty evenly matched.

The Cheers from the crowd was deafening. The humans shouting out to hack up the elf, while the elves screamed for vengeance for their fallen comrade. Marinus looked away as the elf hit the ground, memories of the war invading his mind at the same moment as the elf’s final movements. Mikael on the other hand stood up clapping at the site of an elf losing his life in a grim and gory defeat. A disturbing half-laugh, half-gurgle noise came from Mikael as he looked upon the corpse with excitement and pure joy. Mikael wanted the elf to win so he could crush the life out of him himself, but the way the elf was executed pleased Mikael beyond his imagination, being able to see the elf suffer from a more interesting perspective sent Mikael into a sea of pure bliss.

“You happy, big man?” Marinus asked, knowing full well that he was asking an obvious answer, but was wanting to take his mind away from his memories.

Mikael started to limp to where the leader boards were, in case his name was called out for the next match he could be ready. Marinus followed, still trying to block the memories of the past.

“So, you hope to verse that guy who won? Or an elf in the next match?” Marinus asked, getting a snarl in reply from Mikael, “ha, knew you were always after their blood, it’s just like the wine you drink!”