Fall 84th, 513 AV
Ser Percival Volimer was his name. The first time Bolivar had met him the squire mistaken the man for some sort of sentry or hired help in the Antinous Training grounds. Quickly realizing his mistake Bolivar found himself caught in a daze as the nearby weapons master ordered a fight between the two soon after. Looking questioningly somewhat astonished at the terms Bolivar faced down his opponent who had just a mere dagger to defend himself with.
“Come on then. I do know a thing or two about blades.”
The knight seemed confident enough but still. To use a dagger against such a heavier weapon with such an advantage in reach, the handicap would make Bolivar's victory mean so little while his defeat meant pure embarrassment. The weapons master wanted to make a fool of him did he not? Oh comes the day when Bolivar would be weak enough to lose to a dagger with his axe but today was not that day.
So the melee commenced after the initial ceremonious bows and flourishes. Bolivar dove right into the action making damned sure he was to set the pace for the fight from start to finish. Starting with a powerful arching blow at Ser Percival, Bolivar systematically started throwing more attacks one after another trying to get a bead on him. On Ser Percival's part it he was doing reasonably well, guiding the squire along, one step ahead of the aggressive squire.
Though facing down a knight such skill was to expected. After all who had attained knighthood had certainly earned the honor. The squire focusing on matching Ser Percival's moves, swung dangerous blows that struck only air and earth. Hearing the power in each blow was nerve wracking for those watching. It was hard to imagine how much pressure Ser Percival was in being on the receiving end of those blows. Bolivar made good use of his hips in each strike to apply power in his attacks, only using his arms to guide If one of them hit no doubt that things would turn around on its head for Bolivar. Imagining the squire getting fatigued from the continuous consecutive attacks Ser Percival was hinging on taking a chance to test the squire's defenses.
Suddenly taking a step farther then usual the knight's trap was set. A lack of stamina usually led to a lack of judgement and as Bolivar misjudged and overcommitment to the strike Ser Percival saw his chance to jump in close. Taking the initiative Ser Percival took a giant stride towards Bolivar shiv in hand ready to strike the spar winning single blow... just to dance back almost immediately as the squire's recovery backswing came much earlier then expected.
Giving out a breathe of relief Bolivar was matched by a sigh of disappointment from his opponent. A bit shocked from the squire's steadfast nature Bolivar's opponent kept the dagger poised as it danced with the man's arms. It would take more them that to tire the squire. Having sung this weapon more years then some Sylirans youths have lived Bolivar prided himself in his familiarity with an axe in hand. He knew his limits and constantly strove to improve them, his Isurian heritage not only providing a slight boost to his longevity but also his to his endurance. Overcommitting to much from the blow Bolivar had more then enough energy to make for a speedy recovery to ward off the dagger user's possible counter blow.
Reseting the distance as the two strafe around each other in a circle all facades between the two done and over with. The measuring of distances, the tempo of the other and the possible mindset of the other person all working together to tip the scales in their respective favor. Showing that he has much more energy to spare Ser Percival started up a quickened tempo between the two. His feet moving every which way while he bounded all the while it looked akin to a dance as he pranced in his lighter chain armor. Bolivar still planting his feet after each strafing step awaiting the possible dive in from the other.
Again Bolivar took the initiative raining blow after blow at the space Ser Percival was only moments earlier. Though as each successive strike was swung the distance dodged slimmed after each consecutive strike. The onlooking crowd grew silent as Bolivar started to cut off Ser Percival's path with his strikes eventually leading him to the outer ring of spectators. Ser Percival bound away to his right realizing the trap Bolivar was setting. The squire charging straight towards the knight ready to take his win over the dagger wielding combatant kept his axe up ready for a powerful chop going downwards from left to right. Ser Percival realizing he had no room left to maneuver went from a backtrack to forward dash almost effortlessly to meet the squire head on. A trade? Bring it on! The knight was the one with the dagger and he was the one with the axe-
What just happened?
The squire's downwards chop was parried by a dagger?!?! The strike was received, transferred and redirected a distance much shorter then he had intended. Ser Percival's dagger raised high fell hard on the squire's chest plate much to his surprise. Instinct directing the squire more than anything Bolivar the dagger bounding on his armor spurred the squire to throw a backswing from his position. By now Ser Percival was so close to Bolivar any kind of strike would hit the knight, the match could still be his. As long as the next upwards swing happened the squire could win!
The strike not lacking in power was raised up with a desperate power. The type that could turn any fight around. Ser Percival thought one simple strike would unsettle the squire? He would have to bring Bolivar to his knees to get the squire to yield! What was strike from a dagger to the full force of an upswing from a battle axe? His hands still on the hilt Bolivar committed his entirety into the strike. It was now do or die here! Arms shifting the blade up and forcing the head up higher, higher, and higher! Head bowed low ducking against a swipe from the dagger aimed at his head. Legs together, cramped for a tic before extending to go with the blow. Axe held close as the extremities took aim at his adversary.
There was no response from his axe.
Bolivar's axe ripped viciously up into the air, a cruel sound of air torn. Confusion on the squire's face turned into anguish as he felt a hard searing blow right above his right shoulder. The strike sending him stumbling forward exasperating all the while. The squire's center of gravity off balanced Bolivar threatened to fall forward as he slid his feet in desperation. Somehow finding enough traction to save keep himself from falling Bolivar was on his final footing as he tried to turn around. He he to turn and face Ser Percival or else...
A full combo fell on the squire's turning body. A strike to the shoulder that translated into a strike to a helm within the same tic. A downwards slash knocked into Bolivar with enough force to send the squire teetering precariously on one leg. Finally ending it all with a straight stab to the chest plate to send Bolivar sprawled out on the grounds floor. Around them a slew of applause surrounded the two combatants for the fine display. A few calls out went for Bolivar but the majority was aimed at Ser Percival who raised his hand up to the crowd.
“And that is how you can use flux to staunch any advantage in reach your opponent has over you.”
A bewildered Bolivar righted himself at the sound of flux. None too familiar with magical craft outside of his own Bolivar looked up bewildered at the new yet familiar word. What was flux? Was that why the weapons master proposed the spar in the first place? To give Bolivar a taste of the new technique first hand? What even was that thing? The squire still unable to comprehend looked back wonderingly at Ser Percival, the fight from his eyes replaced with confusion and agitation. Nodding out of respect to the squire Ser Percival and a few others helped the bewildered Bolivar back on his feet who, after taking his helmet off, wasted no time in throwing out questions.
“What was that. Some sort of tactic? Flux?”
“You seem to be taking this well. Indeed it was the flux that defeated you today.”
The question still in Bolivar's eyes Ser Percival ran off a few key bits of the magic. That it was indeed personal magic and how dangerous it was for him there. Something about a flow with Bolivar had trouble grasping and the boost of strength he seemed to have at the end along with the weakness his body felt soon after.
“That is flux?”
The squire's rhetorical question was not lost on Ser Percival letting the squire ponder the fight. The knight used flux numerous amounts of times throughout the exchange but two instances of flux was paramount in Ser Percival's victory. The very two instances that left Bolivar dazed and confused after it was over. The two decisive strikes that were easily dealt with and countered accordingly. The somewhat understanding expression on Bolivar's face darkened at the realization of being dealt with so easily. The squire already wanted another go. To redeem himself and possibly defeat his technique.
“Take this time to rest up for a bit, you'll have another go at me when the day is through.”
Two more rounds went by with Percival running the recruits ragged like he did Bolivar until only the on duty weapons master had a go with Percival. Though it looked like Ser Percival was leading in ground a few unnoticeable nuances lead to his defeat at the hands of the weapons master. From the looks of the man's style it was more of an evolving defensive technique. Gauging the enemy for a time before throwing in some counters and feints to set up for a rush down from his dagger. Simple discernible tactics but hard to really take advantage of.
“Alright anyone else? No need to hold back.”
A few glances fly to Bolivar at that comment who gave a withering gaze in return. He had been waiting patiently for the opportunity and this sounded like as good an invitation as any. Stepping forth once again Bolivar raised an eyebrow as another stepped into the makeshift fighting ring with him. Their eyes met and instantly they both knew neither of them wanted to back down.
“Back off! You've already failed your turn.”
“Now now! I'll take both of you on. Though I fear one of you is still recovering from the last bout.
“That was merely a warmup! I'm ready to fight you head on by myself ser.”
A scoff caught the squire's ire as he once again locked eyes with the other squire. Lily is her name. Bolivar had seen her plenty of times attending to the grunt work out as punishment doled out by their superiors but this was the first time he had even spoken to the Sunberth native. If anything she was not too well liked because of it. Her joining him in the spar would no doubt be anything but a bother. He was ready to face the knight once more! Why couldn't Lily just bugger off?
