Closed [ The Bronze Woods ] The Greater Good (Kos)

[Sieghart Valorian]

43rd of winter 514 A.V

The chill of the wind was merely the beginning of the rather odd day. Such simplicity was not often found among woods, trees stood tall and plants wove from left to right in harmonic motions. Fluttering about with the cold chill of the various wind strengths. Quite the mighty fine day it was! Odd as it may be for Sieghart to be caught dead in a place like this, He'd just recently finished attempting to correct his focus here. Oh well, he wasn't even bothered by the chill of the wind. He'd been wearing thick clothing as always to protect himself from the cold during the Winter. Adhered to his right hip was his family Heirloom given to him by his father. His longsword which in his eyes was incredibly beautiful. The steel could be heard clattering about in the pommel of the blade. He'd worn Studded leather armor, layered atop a coarse thick red colored wool shirt. He'd worn what appeared to have been a hunters hide. With a wolf cranium that rested atop of his head, and the remainder of the hide fluttered about behind him. Due to the fact that he wore the hide, like it was a cape it was simply for fashion. He could also make use of the Hide to distract opponents whilst he threw attacks from behind it. Although for now that meant absolutely nothing, because from what he could see no opponent was in sight!

He wished to simply spar once more, especially being that he was incredibly riled up! The meditation that he'd just undergone helped him clear his mind, and surely his combat ability would be somewhat improved. Due to the fact that he wouldn't be losing his attention span every two seconds. He was well prepared to battle any opponent that crossed him; Not even caring rather or not they were stronger then him. He simply paced about until he found an area with Trees that only outlined the circular area and not a single one was in it. A perfect place to do battle in, and certainly a great pick for such an occurrence. Although he simply wished that he could find an opponent. He'd go about it the simple way first. Screaming at the top of his lungs in a gasconade Sieghart spoke " Aye, Is anyone out here?! Come on out, I wish to battle you!" He'd exclaimed in the most intimidating manner possible to attract attention.

[Clemens Kos]

Another beginning of a day, came with another lazy man who looked like he had little to no life inside of him. It was somehow funny, but as always Clemens was there to power through. it wasn't snowing today, so that was always a plus. Even the ground on which he stood wasn't covered with a thick layer of snow, so he had that going for him. The man's thick leather boots were pressing against the ground as he made his way out of the city and into the woods. Unlike last time, Kos had a feeling that today will be an odd day, but even though that crossed his mind, he took his snares with him in hopes to find something he could later sell. On his back, there was a thick wooden halberd, with a seemingly polished spear end, and sharpened axe one. The weapon seemed taller than the man carrying it, but for what it was worth he liked it much better than a sword. After all, it gave him range, and if he learns to keep his footwork in check, he can easily keep someone with a shorter weapon at bay. Control in fight was the most neccesary thing in his head. With that thought, a smile appeared on his lips, even though it wasn't visible. A thick leather mask was covering the bottom side of his face, and the left side of his head was covered with his long and somewhat fluffy hair, which could give away the fact it was only recently washed. The man's hair was odd, however. It wasn't only long. The right side of his head was shaved clean, giving away a somewhat odd apperance, which, combined with his mask, could give someone second thoughts of approaching him. Which was something he didn't actualy dislike. Dealing with people often turns out bothersome, and always needing to think about what you say, before they get insulted. Luckily, he found people that aren't like that, but even that find didn't really help him trust more as a person. After all, these woods carry a certain pain for him every time he walks pass them. With that thought, the man wearing a thick black coat against the wind, kneeled down, and began to fold and knot the snare he brought with. Finding a tree to wrap the string around, he began to build the snare up, loops and hooks for it to spring pass if something got close enough. Taking a near-by twig, he wrapped the string around it and bended it down, making a small look , in which he would place a piece of fruit, to try and lure any innocent foxes to their demise. Not that he thought of the animals as innocent, though. He learned a long time ago that only the strong survive. However, not long after that, as the man was standing up to distance himself from the snare he put down, he heard yelling. He could of easily say it was Déjà vu, but the screams were different from before. Unlike something in pain, this sounded more like a cry for attention. The words of battle echoed through the woods, and the man's smile vanished. Who would be stupid enough to yell in the woods for that. Specially with bandits, wild beasts, and who knows what else roaming around. The man's one revealed green eye tried to pinpoint the exact location the scream came from, turning his head from side to side to get the right way. Making one last mental note of the place he put the snare in, he decided to try and investigate the somewhat masculine voice yelling in the middle of the woods.

[Sieghart Valorian]

"Come on out,and don't be shy about it! I'm waiting for my first opponent to step forward! My name is Sieghart Valorian! " He'd exclaimed at the top of his lungs whilst he continued to cry out for attention. Awaiting the first man to step up and battle against him, rather that opponent be a bandit or a humble man. Although at the moment he seemed to be portraying himself as incredibly confident in his ability. Although the truth about it was that he wasn't at all very confident in terms of battle. He was simply put more comfortable with battling against opponents now. He wished to do more then raise his blade and strike away at the first person he saw. He cared very little for much of anything else when it came to fighting. He would fight instinctively, and without fear in his heart. For the only thing to fear in battle is fear itself. For the moment you begin to fear something it shall not only obstruct your strength; It shall take your very fighting spirit away from you. Snatching it, and leaving you to wonder where your fighting spirit went. Therefore today, he would be fearless, and courageous. He would battle anyone who stepped before him. Rather they be man, or beast, Rather they are bigger then him, or smaller. He wouldn't be intimidated very easily, nor would he be scared off any time soon.

Due to the fact that his pride wouldn't very well allow him to do so, Backing away in any case was not what one would want to do. For when you run from a battle you are but a dog with it's tail tucked in between it's legs. Cowering and looking pathetic before an enemy is not an option. He simply wished to provoke a fight in between himself and someone else. That was his mission here today; and he would not take no for an answer!

[Clemens Kos]

The yelling didn't stop. The man walking towards it was more than decided to simply shut the fellow down. Not only was he giving away the information of fighting to anyone around, and due to the fact he heard no one else he found it safe to asume he was alone. Two bandits could easily overpower someone if they jumped on them, and then who knew what could follow. The whole notion for this fiasco was extremely discomforting for the half shaved man. Good thing he was wearing his mask, or else he could easily show his troubled face to the world. And leaking emotions is something he stopped doing a while away. Easier to simply fake a smile and carry on, than risk needless questions about why and how. He wasn't there to explain to anyone how he felt, or why he did so. The mask sealed that deal, simply because no one could see what his expression was. Even his left eye was hidden from sight, so it would take someone quite well versed in human emotions to get through to him. Not that he was looking for anyone like that. Being left alone was always the comfortable thought. And even so, he decided to walk into the clearing that he saw infront of him. It wasn't really that far away from the location he dropped his snare, so it would be easy to remember. His leather boots stepping over snow covered bushes and twigs, leaving a crack and whistling of the dried wood behind. He wasn't exactly planning on sneaking up on anyone, and thus he had no problem giving away his position. As he was walking, his hands were lifted up, and slowly began to twist and pull on the weapon on his back. He didn't want to leave it in the sheet when he conforted whoever was yelling, because the man seemed to have quite the confidence. And he learned that one shouldn't underastimate their opponents. Once he managed to wrap his hands around the wooden shaft, he leaned the weapon on his shoulder, and carried it in his hands instead. Not that late, either, because soon after he finally stepped out of the woods into the clearing, his boots pressing against the thin layer of snow the winter graced on that day, or from the feel of it, the day before. As he revealed himself, the tall, masked man came to a hold, and put his one revealed eye on the man causing all this comotion. He seemed to be a sword-wielder. With an odd choise of clothing due to the cape, and no armor but leather seemed to be present at first glance. If there would be, it would cause the body to seem thicker than it actual is. As was the fact with his left plated rembrance that was hidding underneath his coat. Only thing giving it away, was the fact that his left glove wasn't made from leather, as his other one was, but it was covered by a vambrace, that served there much like a sword guard, to protect his fingers if someone decided to cut alongside his weapon. After all, in fights he was known to leave the left side of his body slightly open, knowing armor there could take a bit more of damage than a raw hand would. Be it as it is, the man spoke out, his voice slightly muffed due to the mask that was covering him. He sounded not quite deep, but still masculine enough for someone to easily spot him being a man. "Would you kindly stop yelling? Or do you wish to be jumped at by bandits?" The man spoke out, without a greeting or introduction. Kos was slightly disapointed by the fact someone was so eager to fight they left their common sense at home. Then again, he thought, maybe he wasn't through the same as Clemens was. It was possible the masked man simply had a different view on things. Quite more pessimistic, as well.

[Sieghart Valorian]

"Heh, Bandits? I fear no bandits I am afraid of no man. I'm not even afraid of death, and it was a mistake for you to think that I did. After all, a man who yells in the middle of vast woods must be crazy, correct?" He'd spoken before allowing a rather soft toned laugh to exit his lungs. He'd turned in the general direction of the opponent. The Studded leather armor had several steel studs on it, and they too, were revealed with his turning motion. The "Cape" he wore was made completely of the hide of a Wolf, and included the cranial structure still hanging about. He simply on-looked the other male and he looked quite odd. Rather unsightly at first, but then he would soon come to realize that if an opponent looked like this; He was far from weak. Though that mattered very little in the eyes of Sieghart. Now he proceeds to slam his palm into the pommel of his Longsword. " I am Sieghart, Valorian! Shall you be the one to battle me? To quench my thirst for a fight? After all, I believe you'd be a great opponent." Spoke Sieghart, and one would at first glace notice that his muscular build is slightly more bulky then the average person. He was well aware of basic work-outs and did them on what was practically a daily basis so that he could keep himself in shape. Although he knew that would help him in the long run, for the more that he built his body the stronger he would be as a result of it.

Now he decides upon simply awaiting the other males response. His stance for now wasn't particularly intimidating, nor was his demeanor. A smile crept across the lips of the blonde haired individual. Oh was it wide and lovely, and his teeth were pearly white. He was struggling at this very moment to even bother paying attention to the other person who spoke to him. He knew nothing of the other man, but noticed the rather strange mask worn by him. Not to mention, his strange facial characteristics. Just who was this person, and better yet what was he?

[Clemens Kos]

The man spend the moment in silence, taking in all possible equasions and after a thorough analasys, he has decided that the man yelling in the middle of the woods was a blasted lunatic. No other excuse could work, trying to explain his actions. Blatanlty but, he was nuts. This so called Sieghart Valorian fellow. He was too loud for his own well being, and paid no heed to the actual dangers of the world. That turned his stomach the other way, simply because he thought the man with the sword had no idea what he was dealing with. He saw bandits bringing down a hulking knight in a matter of moments, so a lone warrior looking for a spar wouldn't be out of the question. He shook his head, and left his one eye gaze at the man that turned around. He seemed well tonned, for what he could judge through the leather he wore. An interesting choise of clothing, as well. Be it as it is, the man dropped the halberd from his left shoulder, pushing it forward, and letting the blade soar through the ground in an arch, before it got caught the last moment, with the axe part of the head pointed downwards, and the pole one to the loud inviduidual. The action seemed smooth enough, and what followed next was his left food sliding forward, assuming a somewhat aggresive stance, with both of his hands ready to strike out into a thrust without additional notice. "Again. You're too loud." Kos spoke again, breathing into his mask, which caused his face to become warm from the air. Even though vapor seemed to gather on the inside of the leather, it kept him warm even though it wasn't the thickest of material. A soft breeze trailed over the man, causing the left side of his hair to wave in it's length, as it seemed like the air was carrying his voice onwards. "I don't like too loud. Can't hear my own thoughts." He didn't really felt the need of explaining, because he looked like a lost cause. The blond haired man wanted a fight, and he guessed that nothing but that could get through to him. He'll end up getting hurt finding someone that can actually fight. And then he'll be sorry for the whole thing. Something akin to what happened to Kos, as well. Small steps were all it took. "Draw your weapon, I'll fight you. And if I win you'll stop your idiotical yelling." And with that, his left hand released the grip of his weapon, as he sent the wooden shaft in a circular motion infront of him, being guided by the right hand that still kept the grip in check. His wrist working together with the gathered momentum, leading it in a half circle, before bringing it back in the same position he started out with. The action seemed to be a waste of time, for any observer. But he needed to stretch his muscles before a fight, unless he wanted to risk an injury. Creating some quick actions such as that one helped him loosen himself, and actually be able to fight. Who knew how long the man was standing there, and what kind of practice he did before. Also, he didn't know just how strong the man is, but going on pure equipment, his range should stand a chance against a sword, and that was something he was planning on working with. He should keep his footwork in place, and wait for an oportunity to strike. What he saw infront of him now, was no longer some crazy goon, but a fighter. Kos applied little to no personality to whoever he was fighting. It only made him lose focus. Erasing the face helped in such a regard. "First one to yield, everything goes." Was the next comment he made, before he assumed his previous stance, waiting for the reaction of the man in front of him.

[Sieghart Valorian]

Immediately Sieghart nods his head in agreement. Yet, he'd done something incredibly odd upon drawing his weapon. Hearing the steel clatter against the pommel as he'd done so. Being that he was slightly stronger then the average human he could manage wielding his longsword in one hand. If anything went then of course that meant that they were both liable for injuries. Although injuries wouldn't be enough to detour Sieghart. Immediately, Sieghart slams his right foot into the ground, placing it seventeen inches in front of his left foot. Leading with the right foot, and digging the front end of his boot into the snow. Just what was Sieghart planning to do, taking up an odd stance like this was surely strange. He grasped hold of the hilt of the longsword in a strangulation grip. Although he was a novice and hardly knew how to wield one it was time to try out a new style. He holds the blade in his right hand, and the blade faced the opposite of where one would think it'd be. He held it in a reverse grip and grasped hold of the weapon in the center of the leather wrapped hilt. The tip of the blade faced the ground for now, and of course the longsword length was 3 feet 7 inches. The haft alone was six inches and enough to fit two hands upon it. The Sword Catcher Guard on the blade was a simplistic device made to catch the blades of opposing weapons. So that he might take an effort in to disarm an opponent. The Sword Stealer hilt, too was prepared at any given time.

He'd made sure that when he turned the Hide he wore as a cape completely covered his right arms length. Now all that would be visible to the opponent was simply a blade held in a reverse grip. He moves into a slightly crouched position, and bends his knees. The blade has been brought about and the flat of the blade rests against Siegharts lower back. Surely his next strike would practically be unpredictable. As now the opponent knew not of his arms length, not to mention the odd stance. Oh how absolutely extravagant was this, Siegharts visage lit up with a smile. As it crept across his thin lips when he'd done so, Sieghart practically took on a completely different personality. A laugh which sounded of macabre exited his lungs. It sounded so maleficent and evil that it was absolutely strange. Sieghart practically changed as a whole, and it seemed as if he would go Berserk at any given time. Although it seemed like Sieghart was distracted; He surely wasn't! He was simply paying attention to the opponents weapon length, and making note of it. Not to mention he made several more small time observations. The opposite end of the opponents weapon is heavier then the end his hands are held on. That can only mean that the opponent could deliver crippling blows from the outside.. Interesting indeed Sieghart thought.

[Clemens Kos]

Clemens watched the scene unfold infront of him, silence and without a sound as the man took his stance. It was nothing he saw before. The cape causing the whole body appear crowded and hidden, and with the blade being held in such an odd stance, he really could not predict a swing before it would already be too late. The green eye of the man seemed to close for a moment, as he took a deep breath. Even though upon openning his eyes, he realized something interesting poking out from the thin covered snow ground the two stood upon. And doing so he jumped into actions. His right foot digged into the ground, sending the tip of it under the snow, and hooking a small, hard object with his leather boots. It was a rock, which he simply flinged into the man who croutched down with his foot, much like kids were kicking a ball, before his foot stomped back on the ground. He didn't wait for the hit to connect, or not, then he didn't need to. The whole ordeal like that was to try and shatter the man's resolve. With that thought, the man rushed forward, causing his feet to pound against the ground. Quite quickly, he was gaining on momentum and closing up the distance, and with that his fingers wrapped around even tighter around the wooden shaft of his weapon. Kos' main strentgh was speed and reach, which he gained with the weapon. As long as his opponent wasn't right in his face, he would be able to lead the fight. Or at least that's what he was lead to belive. As he got in range, his weapon's head was turned to face the swordsman, and with what seemed to be a cleave coming from the left to the right from Kos' point of view, he tried to shatter the man's stance while keeping out of range himself. Even though, the strike he made wasn't left to travel over to the other side of his body, but was rather stopped with his own hands once it passed the middle, so the weapon was still infront of him when his strike came to a halt, with the spear end of it pointing at the man. He noticed the laughing. The smiling. It sent chills down his spine. Whatever this man infront of his was, he wasn't normal. Or at least, not something one could see every day. Simply because of that thought alone he decided to not go in for an attack after the first one, which would be able to inflict quite some damage if hurt unguarded, but it was used mostly to try and break his silly stance, hoping that the time it takes for him to bring the sword infront of him, his own weapon would of gained enough of momentum to be a problem to deflect. His heart was beginning to race, however. Beating against the chest and sending blood pumping all over his body. Once again, he was clashed in a fight. Once again he can hone his skills further, and push himself to the limit. After all, he was given another chance at living, and the pure thought of surviving was enough to bring Kos in the mood. The mood to keep on doing what he did so far. His weapon obviously recently polished, as it reflected what little light shinned down to the clearing the two were having their fight in. Unlike the ragged inviduidual carrying it, the weapon seemed clean and void of any damage. On a quick glance, it was easy to realize what was getting more attention in his life.

[Sieghart Valorian]

"Hurt me if you can!" Exclaimed the enraged male, who was soon to fight like an unchained beast. He allowed the rock to impact his cranial structure a slight, right above his forehead and into his locks. The rock drew a slight amount of blood, and the crimson fluid begun to descend upon his forehead. Although he was no stranger to pain, so he shrugged it off and continues to laugh. In the time it took for the opponent to so much as begin his charge he too, charged in and managed to move inside the opponents range. Before his knees bent and he'd executed what one would think to be a flip. He'd taken a leap,and rotated his hips. Making use of the additional momentum in the twisting motion to snap the pommel of his blade into the opponents nose. Having completely avoided the opponents strike by closing the distance fairly quickly. The counter attack provided by Sieghart came upon the opponents right side. Making the opponents aforementioned motion completely miss.

It was incredibly evident and very well obvious that he was an acrobat. The pommel of his weapon aimed to collide with the opponents cheek. To claim bone, and break skin. It was simply incredibly odd for someone to so much as attempt to wield a longsword in this fashion. The hide the male wore as a cape flailed about. Robbing the opponent of eye sight; Because as he rotates so does the hide. Therefore the hide flares out and impacts the opponents eye with only a slight amount of force. Depending upon the opponents next move, he knew what must be done. Sieghart only just began to learn and make observations in this case. The opponents weapon was heavy, and longer by comparison, Therefore if he could stay inside he could outmatch the opponent. As the opponents swinging radius is useless when faced with close combat.

Although, did that mean that a berserk man was capable of defeating an opponent due to how reckless the berserk male could be? Or was it that due to how absolutely crazed he appears to be at the moment that he became unpredictable. He fought as if he had nothing to lose, nothing to live for. He fought as if he had lost all intention of living, and cared very little about what consequences he would suffer. Just what lengths would Sieghart go to, to ensure victory?

[Clemens Kos]

What happened left an ache. The man's actions were odd, off, and simply confusing. He managed to counterattack his strike, and all Kos could do was simply keep up his footwork, and try to mimimize the damage. As he saw the strike coming towards him, the masked man was already on his backfoot, trying to step back and keep his already broken nose away from much of more harm. Didn't really fully help, however, as he felt the dull pommel crashing into his nose. Thankfully, he moved himself away enough to prevent any serious damage, even though a crack escaped him. Probably a bone moving, or something similarly charming. His whole body heated up due to the pain, and suddenly the area around wasn't cold at all. Adrenaline began to be pumping into his body, guiding his next movements. It was obvious that this battle wasn't going to be won by his usual routine, simply because he couldn't count on the man reacting how he wanted him to. And thus, Kos muttered out a word or two, obstucted by his mask and his grumbling into some inaudible mesh. He pushed the pain away for the time being, deciding on his next reaction. It came to him not a moment too soon, as his green eye got covered by the cape. Then again, he didn't really need to see where the man was, because if the cape was there, the middle of it would still be attached to the body of the wearer. And if he stayed like that, he could create his next attempt. his left hand, which was previously leading the swing tightly wrapped around the upper shaft, yet what he did was wrap his wrist upwards, which would usually dennote his weapon of any swinging power. Then again, Kos wasn't aiming for a swing of the usual proposions. His right hands grip was suddenly released, and in return the whole palm began to push on the halberd. He jerked the weapon forward, using the heavy head of his weapon as a counterweight, and sending the butt of his weapon, which was considerably shorter than the spear-end, in a stringing movement at the man's face, much like he would deliver a punch himself, with the added shaft of his weapon serving as both buffer for his attack, and a thin shield for the man's coutnerattack, seeing as he was still on his right side. Enough force was put behind it to hopefully connect and daze the man, and that is when his next step came in. He didn't plan on waiting. The man proved himself to act without any reason behind, so waiting for him to do a response was a horrible plan. So what he did, is follow through with what Sieghart himself just did. The swordsman stayed in range for his halberd to not be able to swing. Then Kos was going to swing something else. As the butt of his halberd finally stopped, the man's knee was brought up. His whole body shifted to the side, and used the moment of exposure which his halberd would do, to try and ram his knee in the man's chest area, not really caring what spot it hits, as long as the hit was impactful enough to gain the upper hand in this fight.