Purple and pink [Xalet]

[Markus Andres]

Markus right hand felt the first impact on the blade. But only briefly before the blade was away again. The next impact was much much harder. He could see as the blade slammed directly into the pauldron covering the Akalak's shoulder. The armor dented below the power of the sword and Markus had a feeling the Akalak would be having a sore shoulder for the rest of the day. Markus saw as Xalet fell to one knee and Markus' would take his left arm back a bit before preparing to slam it forward to knock the Akalak squire onto his back. But before he could attack, Markus saw the raised hand. Bidding him to stop the attack. Markus contemplated for a moment. His eyes staring intently at the squire. His desire for an adrenalin rush had not yet been sated and he wanted to continue to pummel the squire until it had been sated. Had there been spoken words? Yes, Xalet had said something. It had been a praise of some sorts. Markus could recognize the tone, but the words were lost forever. Markus blinked several times. Trying to blink away his desire to slam the shield against him. But then his ego turned his adrenalin rush aside. He had beaten the squire. There was no need for more fighting. For now. He pushed the visor of his helmet up. His facial features did not show any of the desire he had had to continue the fight and instead a soft smile on his lips. "You fight well, but try to mind your balance and not over-extend it when you are attacking." - Something Markus had had to learn on his own when Ser Mason had exploited Markus' aggressiveness against him over and over. Markus looked to Xalet's shoulder. Wondering perhaps if he had struck too hard. The huge Akalak had, after all, been forced down on a knee. "How is the shoulder, I hope I didn't strike you too hard. I tend to get... eager when sparring." Markus asked concerned. It wasn't a big deal, if it was serious enough, the healers could tend to Xalet, if it wasn't, then time would heal him. But Markus hoped he would be ready for another sparring round. There was something very refreshing about trying to fight someone larger than himself again. Much like when he had been growing up and had constantly fought against his master's larger size.

[Xalet]

With a bit of a grunt Xalet heaved himself up from his knee and stood straight once more. It didn't appear the squire had to apply much effort into his stance, so there was still plenty of battle stamina left in him. Rolling his shoulder briefly he nodded at it's state, nothing he hadn't dealt with before. "It's fine." he simply recalled. Was it perfectly fine? No, but after years of working his muscles to their maximum capacity Xalet's tolerance for sore, throbbing body parts had grown to a respectable height. Even without adrenaline fueling him he could operate his body without much hindrance unless an injury made was particularly heinous.

"It's possible I can overwhelm him with my short sword alone. I would need to strike repeatedly and make him focus upon it. It's weight is almost nothing in my hand, I can move it quickly." he decided to himself, far from losing his determination in the match. Xalet had fought plenty of skilled opponents before, he just had to remember that Markus was learning, just as he was. Stay calm, breathe deeply, keep the muscles loose. His body moved to follow his internal advice. His knees bent slightly, his grip was tight but not overpowering, just enough to firmly control that short bladed weapon.

"Lets continue." he beckoned Markus with his shield, now held out appropriately in front of him. His eyes narrowed in on the place his Patron had taught him to look upon, the middle of the chest, allowing the peripheral vision to view the shoulders and the footwork. This time he would take a moment to watch how Markus would attack, try to attempt to understand his rhythm, his pacing. Things were beginning to register to him, but the Akalak wasn't foolish enough to believe he could recklessly attack anymore. Markus was quite simply above those tactics, he had to become more intelligent in his use of motion. His attacks needed a target. Instinct was good, but it just wasn't enough.

[Markus Andres]

”Let us” Markus agreed. The Akalak was ready for another round. Markus took several light dance like steps back and away from Xalet when he got back up on his feet. This time Markus didn’t plan on letting the Akalak get in that close again. Not without taking a serious beating on the way in. But it seemed that Xalet had left the initiative to Markus. Xalet would see a smile on Markus’ lips in a brief moment before the wisor covered his facial features. It was time he started using clever tactics. Markus rolled with his shoulders, getting some tensions rolled out. He took a couple of deep breaths to get as much oxygen through his body before he began the attack. He looked at the towering opponent and felt the thrill at the prospect of renewed battle manifest itself. Markus judged the distance between the two. Around 10 feet distance between the two. Markus took a good step in with his right, swinging the heavy bastard sword out in a very heavy strike to the left side of the Akalak. The blade would most likely be blocked by the Akalak with either his shield or his gladius. The heavy strike would not be fun to withstand without. Markus would quickly retreat after the heavy strike would connect with whatever Xalet chose to defend himself with. Mislead- Markus would judge Xalet’s defense for a brief moment before he prepared to attack again. His right leg slid forward and his right arm swung out again in almost the exact same manner as the previous attack. The heavy bastard sword going directly at the Akalak’s left shielded side. The 1½ kiloes heavy blade swiftly cutting through the air. - And strike their openings. But there was a difference this time. For before the blade reached the designated target. Markus slid his right leg back a bit and withdrew his right arm arm. He stopped the swing and pulled the blade back a little and made a close range thrust. Markus thrusted the blade forward at the belly of the Akalak. The meaning behind the first heavy attack had simply been to make the Akalak think the second attack would be just as heavy. The second attack had intentionally been a feign, in order to have the Akalak push out with his shield to intercept the attack. Thus, leave his stomach/belly open for Markus’ real attack. He could just hope his little diversion had worked, since because of the Akalak’s larger stature and strength, perhaps he wouldn’t need to push away at the incoming blade. Although aggressive in his nature, Markus still held the shield ready for any counter attacks. One would not go far in the knights without a good defense. It was one of Markus’ favorite tactics in combat.

[Xalet]

Xalet's blade stayed low while his metal banded shield covered a majority of his body before him. His breath moved in a controlled fashion, his hand flexed and relaxed from behind the bastion of defense that was his heater. He had to watch carefully, keep in mind each mother. Thinking ahead was still quite difficult for Xalet, most of his attention was either on looking for an avenue to attack or formulating a proper defensive response to anything that came toward him. Reacting accordingly and efficiently was the easiest way to tell the experienced from the learner, techniques aside.

Xalet breathed in as he used his shield to block that blow, his shield flexing against his left arm, the vibrations of the strike traveling throughout his armor. A solid block, he felt. His shield was balanced appropriately to deflect the maximum amount of that blade before it came into contact with anything at all vital. That boosted Xalet's confidence slightly, there were ways to circumvent Markus's offensive as long as he kept his defense prepared. Right after the strike Xalet shuffled his right leg forward, but quite quickly Markus retreated out of his range. Recognizing this Xalet withdrew his leg back to it's original position for his stance.

He waited. Then, it came. The same attack, would he use it? Was he testing Xalet's shield. The squire found himself steadying his heater to intercept the blow only to watch as the bastard sword changed trajectory into a thrust. The whites of his eyes became apparent as he felt air swell into his lungs. His right leg spun backward as his body bladed and his shield turned with his shoulder to send the tip of that sword skidding off to Xalet's right, but now his weapon side was too far away to attack. Or was it?

"Stop making us look bad." the voice inside of him chastised, taking that split moment, that singular lapse in Xalet's willpower when he believed he was going to struck yet again by Markus to come out. Xalet was quiet and often calm, but he still had pride, and when he felt he wasn't doing it justice he couldn't help but become filled with regret. That regret turned to desperation, and with desperation came Xuphim.

Xalet's body, now fueled with Xuphim's more flashy use of swordplay spun completely, keeping in it's movement, far enough to slice that short blade from the left to the right as Xalet righted his body, Xuphim showing Xalet proper aggression befitting an Akalak squire. Even after he slashed his weapon pulled back to thrust once, and then twice, moving high like his original cut before dropping low toward the groin and lower abdomen. Just after his arm went forth in those three sharp attacks the possession of the body went back to Xalet.

[Markus Andres]

Markus' blade was knocked to the side by the quick Akalak. It was alright the feign had not worked, Markus hadn't really expected it to and it gave him a good idea of how Xalet responded to feigns. Markus just had to be a little more clever with his feigns. Markus took a step back when he saw the Akalak was making a full spin. For Markus knew what was going to happen when that twirl came to an end. The gladius missed Markus by a good margin as he made sure to get out of reach. But he was not done yet and Markus saw the thrusts at him and quickly moved his shield in the way. The shield making loud clangs as the gladius connected with it. Markus made sure to keep a distance so he could see where the Gladius was headed before it struck. For such a short weapon was very unpredictable when it came to combat, ease to weave in and out of defenses and change direction at any time. Markus also noticed something odd about the Akalak. He was prone to sudden bursts of aggression. Like he suddenly changed mid-combat. It was strange. Markus would have to pay attention to any such bursts in the future, for it changed his style considerably and it was hard to adjust to such sudden aggressiveness. Markus noticed the second thrust was going low for his guts. Markus moved his shield down and to his left. Pushing the low blow in the same direction. That was when Markus' bastard sword that had been held in reserve suddenly thrust out at Xalet's right shoulder area. It was a simple, but quick, straightforward thrust.

[Xalet]

Xalet couldn't help but feel the sudden relief as Xulphim receded away from the Akalak's body. It was actually somewhat unusual, as the darker side wasn't usually one to give up control so easily once he had it. Was Xalet simply able to overpower him mentally so much more easily now a days, or did that other soul truly not wish to be fully in control for the moment? Just what could Xulphim be planning, going into things half-way, that man wasn't known to work in that capacity at all. Xalet had to push those questions away, he was still in the middle of a combat with someone who was a superior opponent. Any mistake would no doubt be exploited, as he would imagine would happen after the flowery maneuver Xulphim just had him perform. Why couldn't that bastard just stick to the basics like they were supposed to? Keep things simple, remember the training.

Turn and get that shield up high! Higher! Drop back, turn the body. Xalet could almost hear the words of the many Knights he had trained with over the years filling his ears to their capacity with knowledge and technique. He'd learned a lot, perhaps even more than his level of skill let on, he simply hadn't managed to process everything he was told. All that information was sitting in that plate mail clad head somewhere, waiting to be used. Remember the training, work with it until the response became reflex, until it required no thought, only then could the mind be freed up for more pressing concerns, like how to get past Markus's defense.

Xalet had just barely managed to deflect that blow. Were his shield a shield of small or medium size the arc and weight of the impact would have probably blown right through the hastily maneuvered defense. "C-close..." Xalet could just about feel the strain in his heart as he heard the air pushed aside by that thrust, reminding him just how close it had come. Push forward, stay close! Keep the shield in his view.

Stepping forward Xalet lashed out with his right leg again, coming around to Markus's weapon side. The kick was low, extremely so, down by the lower half an ankle. With it Xalet hooked his toe inside of his solleret, trying to circle the front half of his foot around his fellow squire's leg and pull it out in an attempt to unbalance him. Even as he stepped forward his shield arced back down into it's original position after barely deflecting Markus's blow. He wasn't going to get through that defense just by luck, he had to keep Markus's attention divided between low and high attacks.

[Markus Andres]

Deflected once again. It was almost routine for Markus to quickly retract his sword after it had been deflected. It took almost conscious thought on his part anymore. The blade was soon by his side again. Ready for another offensive adventure. But he did briefly wonder when or if Xalet's counter would come. But only briefly before his eyes went wide. Xalet was a kicker. Markus jumped back and away from the Akalak. The sweep clipping his right leg. Making the landing quite awkward. He would land on his left leg and slide a good inch or two before his right foot touched the dirt ground again. Markus really disliked fighting kickers. He was not used to their kind of fighting and especially not when they came from the shielded side where his vision was naturally obstructed by his heater shield. Plus now his offensive stride had been broken. Something that annoyed him. It was something he didn't want to lose. He had to put pressure on the opponent. Have him stressed and frustrated so he made opening. He had no time to play it defensively. Markus' feet would barely have touched the ground before he was attacking again. He stepped back inside range again. His right arm swung in from high with a sweeping attack for the head of his enemy. But there was a catch - there almost were when dealing with Markus. The blade didn't turn in to strike the Akalak before it had traveled a good deal down his body. The initial swing at his head before redirecting the blade south was to get the Akalak to make a instinctive block with the shield and raise it to protect his head. Even if the Akalak did not do this, the blade would swing down and strike the upper thigh of Xalet. Hopefully below the raised shield. The intention was simple. To try and bruise that leg so the squire would have a harder time kicking out at Markus. Of course, due to the maneuvering of the blade after the initial feign, the blow wouldn't be as hard as Markus' best swings and with the armor, Markus wasn't even sure if Xalet would be able to feel the blow. Didn't matter if he could or not. He just had to pressure the squire into making a mistake.

[Xalet]

Both Markus and Xalet seemed to be similarly aggressive, each moving into the other and advancing when they could. The Akalak, despite any gaps in skill, was not the type of fighter to play it defensively. Technically his form was good enough, and his maneuvers were executed properly, but the level of real experience he had was still limited by his ability to process instances and outcomes on the fly as they occurred. The more he experienced, the more pages could be added to his encyclopedia of battle knowledge, ready for perusal later down the line. With Markus Xalet had to be alert all the time, not only watching to make sure he could find a weakness somewhere in his defense, but similarly trying to keep himself from getting slammed with that bastard sword. It wasn't easy.

He could feel the counter-pressure against his low attack, meaning it had connected at least somewhat. That was enough to spur Xalet forward, trying to follow up as quickly as possible, especially if he could unbalance Markus enough to get his shield or sword to shift out of position. If he could get that opening, Xalet was confident of the speed and power of his short sword in making it through to score a few excellent strikes. The attack came from above, coaxing Xalet to pull his shoulder, curl his forearm and shift his weight onto his right leg in preparation for impact. Eventually the purple skinned squire would learn to think past the initial defense.

The rapping of metal on metal was so loud it sounded like a mule kicking an ale keg. The pain was a pressure that traveled upward from his thigh to his groin, and down to his foot. He was still standing, so he knew his leg was still attached to his body. That was good. As a newer combatant, Xalet probably would have scaled his offensive back after that strike, but enough times of being yelled at to push forward made him buckle slightly, only to push off of his heels back into Markus.

Never assume you are dead, he remembered those words. Tales had come and gone of Knights having their chests pieced, only to survive to tell the story to their comrades. Thus, regardless of any strike, unless called to stop by your superior officer, never assume you are dead. Planting his right leg forward he fought past the immediate tingling throughout his thigh bone and tucked his weapon elbow close to his ribs. From there, he fired out a trio of thrusting attacks with the speed of his small blade. The first two jammed upward toward the gorget and upper breastplate of Markus, while the final stabbing blow redirected once his elbow retracted itself for the final time, soaring downward toward Markus's hips and pelvis.

[Markus Andres]

Markus blade struck the squire's armored thigh and was deflected by the metal. The huge Akalak did not back down, quite the opposite. It was like fighting a less experienced version of his master. Their aggressive fighting styles clashing head on. It brought a smile to Markus' lips. It was rare Markus didn't enjoy a good spar. Even rarer he enjoyed it this much. Markus realized that the two combatants were so close, that they could practically throw their weapons away and settle it with their fists. It was far inside Markus' preferred range, but he didn't mind. It made everything much more interesting. It multiplied the thrill and joy he felt from the battle. Xalet's counter attack was swift and if not for the years of training, Markus' shield would have been too slow to intercept the vicious strikes. The short blade was intercepted by the shield and the metal sound rang through the training area. The second strike was no different from the first, intercepted and taken by the shield. The close proximity of the two strikes made it easy to intercept the second one as well. It was going to be easy to keep his defense up as he counter attacked. Markus wasn't going to stand there and just let the strikes rain over him. He was no training doll. He stepped back with his right leg and his sword arm raised over his head for full strength downward swing at the Akalak's left shoulder. But that was when something slipped past Markus' defense. His focus had been too centered on his upper torso where the first two attacks had been aimed. He could tell that something was wrong a split second before the blade struck him. The gladius that screeched across his hip before slipping out to his left side sent pain through his hip and left leg. It felt like when he had been younger and his master and kicked him because he had been insubordinate. The armor saved his hip from being a gladius wound richer, but it still hurt, a lot. He was no stranger to pain and he could fight through a lot, he had proven that with Rhuryc a year earlier. But the sudden pain threw Markus' attack off with a couple of inches. The problem was, it was a couple of inches to Markus' left. So it was directly aimed at Xalet's head.

[Xalet]

Xalet could feel his muscles pull as he forced them to work overtime against the fatigue from the vicious nature of the fight. Markus was clearly beyond formidable, and there was no real avenue that the Akalak could peruse where he was superior in any combative regard. His mind struggled to keep up with the flow of the combat as the two went back and forth. He tried to think of what to use, what tactics he could utilize to circumvent some of the gap between their levels of skill, but there was often not enough time. Beneath his helm sweat was beginning to pour down his face, the slick, greasy feeling of his own perspiration causing some chaffing inside of his armor despite the cloth padding beneath. His short sword was still held firmly in the padding of the leather on the underside of his gauntlet, but he could feel his grip starting to weaken simply from holding on for so long.

He felt it though, like a brilliant light in the darkness. One of his many attacks had slipped past that iron clad defense and struck home with a firm hit. It was revitalizing, so much so that Xalet found himself wanting to step back and see just how thorough of it a hit it was. His curiosity was his greatest mistake, because only when the weapon was nearly right on top of him did it register within his narrowed field of vision due to his visor. Xalet always attempted to be aware of the weapon and defensive measure of his opponents at all times, but there were instances when a keen eye simply wasn't enough. The bitter taste of adrenaline filled his tongue as he moved the quicker of his items, his short sword upward. His body reacted upon it's own accord, the reflective muscle memory doing its best to save a life. His left foot had already stepped back, his shield would have never made it in time.

Arching his body to the rear somewhat the bastard sword twisted the grip within Xalet's palm, straining his wrist and forcing it completely out of his hand with its arc and weight. Time seemed to slow a bit as he watched the edge of that weapon scraping down his field of vision, skipping across the slit in his vision and carrying toward the ground where it also shrieked against his chest plate. His helm rocked atop his neck, despite how snug it fit. It twisted slightly from the blow, reducing his vision more, while his short sword clamored end over end upon the floor before sliding to a halt.

Stumbling backwards Xalet lashed his shield out as if to bash with it, a technique simply meant to keep an opponent a bay for just a moment while he righted his body, balling his hand up into a fist as if to throw a punch before he felt the twinge in his wrist. Sucking some air through his teeth he shook his hand out, noticing that from the vibration of his own sword some numbness danced across his fingertips. Sharp pain mixed with numbness, what a strange combination of effects. "Almost took my head off." Xalet commented, not so much to complain about such an attack, but rather just to state the obvious, "Your skill with a blade and shield thoroughly eclipses mine. I think I'll be needing to hit the Soothing Waters for my wrist. Good match, I hope to give you a more able challenge the next time."