Swords and Scales (Markus Andres)

[Blythe]

Blythe smiled; her eyes reflecting her amusement as she stifled her chuckling so as not to cause the knight to feel any more shame. To feel any more ill at ease around her. "I'll show you," she whispered, as she as she took his hand, weaving their fingers together, so that he may lead a bit more easily. "In this place you mentioned. Surely it's like the pavilion, sans the mats," she added, as he pulled her through the crowds to the training ground. That which seemed dimly lit in comparison to where she had been taught. It was enough to make her glance down at the ground nervously, as she slowly pulled her fingers away. Took a few steps back, so that she and the knight were facing each other; standing off, no more than five feet apart. Lost in the heat of other bodies, tangled in combat. A slow dance to their proverbial deaths.

Another few moments passed, another few breadths, and the Konti's left hand fell to the hilt of her gifted blade. Her fingers furled around it, taking in the familiar curvature, gilding and weight. With another soft sigh came the delicate pull, a nearly inaudible hiss as the weapon was torn from its sheath. A heartbeat, a bead of sweat on the brow, as her right hand came onto the hilt, no more than an inch above where the left hand gripped. Her right leg slid forward, bent slightly at the knee, her toes directed at her opponent. The left lingered behind, a strong brace for the right, as the weapon was raised. Directed to a place just before her. With arms outstretched and weapon turned skyward, it hung proudly, as it sliced the woman in half. Her lavender colored eyes drawn to it; onto it. As though it had a face and life of its own. "Whenever you are ready Markus," Blythe called, her eyes falling onto his own. "And try not to go too easy on me," she added, with a small smile, before rocking back and forth on her feet, just to be sure that her blood kept on flowing.

[Markus Andres]

Markus loved the situation, he had decided to stop training to grant his body some pause from it, chimes later he returns to the same place, only with a sparring partner. It would appear that he did not know the concept of relaxing. But on the other hand, the sparring partner was an attractive woman. It would be strange to spar wearing no armor at all. He watched her draw the katana. Markus knowledge of weapons stemmed from the sole source of him holding them and deflecting them. But even he could see that her blade was a well crafted one. But more importantly, that edge. Markus had a feeling that edge could cut through Markus with ease. It made him wish he had his trusty shield with him. Would make him feel a lot safer. His style was meant for him to have a shield on his left arm. But he looked past the blade, at the woman holding it. Her form. Her posture. Markus could easily tell that her body did not hold the same type of muscles as his own. By pure strength he would win. But much like her blade, she was slender and graceful. Nothing to dismiss in a sword fight. He drew the sword he had inherited from his grandfather. Much like how Blythe mirrored her sword, Markus mirrored his own. Large and strong. Markus rolled with his shoulders. Loosening them up, before doing something that no matter how many times he did it, felt out place. He placed his left hand below his right on the hilt. Using the 1½-hander as a two-hander. He smiled when she said he shouldn't go too easy on her. "Oh, but you do want me to go easy on you? How about I tie my right arm behind my back?" He teased as he let go with his right hand and put it behind his back. If it felt strange to hold the blade as a two hander, it felt even weirder to use it in his left. He knew how to, but it still felt out of place. He let out a short laughter as he held the sword in both hands again. But his smile dissipated as he grew serious. His gaze focused on her torso. For a moment he hesitated, normally armor made things asexual. But Blythe wore no armor. Making it pretty hard not to notice the difference in their genders. He shook his head a little to clear his mind. With a cleared mind, he took a step forward. The blade swung at her, in a downward arc at her midsection from his right. A fast, but simple swing. Mostly to get both arms to work together in unity. The swing was fast. Faster than when he fought with one arm. It was quite incredible feeling. The speed. Imagine what speed he could attain when he learnt how to integrate the flux into it. He would not go all out in the start. He wanted to see how the blade worked. How one fought with the strange blade... How the Konti race fought. ... What Blythe looked like when she moved.

[Blythe]

"Then we'd need a piece of rope," Blythe replied rather casually, with a glimmer in her eye, and slender smile crossing her lips. "Would you like to go get one?" she asked, as her thumb slid along the hilt. Noting subtle undulations cast by various gildings as the knight took a step closer. She eyed the gentle flick of his wrists, bastardized flourish. Within a tick, she was almost certain she knew what he was about to attempt. Her lavender colored eyes darted upwards, noting muscle that rippled against his flesh. With grace, she took a single step forward to meet her opponent. Eyes crawling up to meet the knight's own gaze as she lowered her sword slightly. Right hand rotating counter clockwise to the left, as her left hand circled to the right. Twisting the blade onto its side; holding it defiantly at an angle. Seconds later, Markus' sword had crashed into hers. Sending a deafening clatter into the dense air. Without a word, Blythe pulled her weapon away and with pointed toes, drew her right foot across the ground. A wide circle which brought her body around; lowered sword swinging towards the knight's middle. If he was not careful, she supposed she'd leave a nasty mark just above his hip bone.

[Markus Andres]

The Konti knew how to fight! Markus was pleased. She blocked his attack. Showing quite the graceful finesse in doing so and more so. She took the initiative. Much better, it would not be relentless assault on his part. But his goal was not merely winning, it was to observe the girl and her fighting style. To learn. To understand the blade he was fighting, for future reference. But still. He could not help be slightly mesmerized by the grace she moved with. Markus' right foot slid back as he swung his blade down to meet hers. The unmistakeable sound of metal against metal rung clearly. It sounded much worse without a helmet. His block would slam against her attack. His intention was not to merely stop her momentum, but rather reverse the direction of her blade. Disrupt her graceful movements. Holding his blade in both hands, made it seem so light that his movements were more powerful than normal, but also less smooth. Something he had to work on. Markus would almost make an X move with his defence and offense. His blade would move back the way it had come in a single fluid motion. His arms moving quickly as the blade would swing over his own head briefly before striking down at her right shoulder again. The flat side of the blade, naturally. He had no intention of cutting the Konti in half.

[Blythe]

The metal of her katana crashed against the knight's sword. She could feel the sound waves reverberating off her ear drums; dancing through the narrow canal. Blythe could sense her hands trembling as her sword's vibrations jarred her hands, and the momentum behind Markus' defensive strike sent her reeling. Her body twirled back around, in the opposite direction, as the knight had intended. Petch! the Konti's mind screamed as her stumbling led her towards an attack on the opposite side of his body, just above the left hip. A sloppy one, if anything, that she had to quickly pull out of so as not to be bruised by the oncoming offensive. As swiftly as she could manage, the fortune teller lifted her sword, holding it over her shoulder on a slight diagonal.

A tick later, the knight's blade came crashing into her own. This time, Blythe braced herself by putting all of her weight into her feet, and tightening the muscles in her arms and hands. She bit her lower lip, soft crenellations becoming temporary indentations on the pink furl, as color began to drain. Her sword dipping until it fell against her shoulder rather roughly. So much for it not leaving a bruise, she thought as she winced. A sharp, searing pain cutting through her shoulder as she took a step back, and then slid her sword along the length of the knight's. Within a heartbeat's passing, Blythe had pulled her weapon away, and receded another step. She lowered her blade, and drew it closer, before twisting her hands again so it fell on a vertical keel.

Another tick passed, and Blythe was coming forward. Raising her sword so the point was resting above her head, before sweeping it down towards Markus' left shoulder as she came within striking distance. From there, she would guide the sword down to his left hip, before cutting it back up the opposite shoulder, and then skipping away, so as to avoid the coming onslaught, if at all possible.

[Markus Andres]

Markus could hardly believe himself. The Konti lady was actually keeping up with him beyond the first trade of blows. It was great. Markus had sought people who could grant him more of a challenge. He had sought Rhuryc for a while, but the man had as if vanished from the face of the earth. Markus saw how her muscled tensed as she blocked his blow. But not efficiently enough. For Markus could see the impact her own blade left on her shoulder. Markus stepped back again. Hesitated. He should have pushed the offensive there if his desire was to simply win. But his interest was learning. Not winning. Not yet at least. There was elegance to the way she handled the blade. Markus held the blade comfortably in both hands. Awaited her attack. His muscles responded almost instinctively to her attack. Swung the blade to the side and it would crash against her blade. Meet steel with steel. But her attack was not over yet. His sword swung in a quick semi circle to get the required power to nullify hers. Again their blades would crash together. A sharp sound of metal. Markus never grew tired of hearing it. But she surprised Markus. She had prepared a third attack in row. Markus spun the blade around in the same semi circle. His idea was quite simple in idea. But in effect. Markus had no idea. How it would work out. But it was time he got creative. His blade would intercept hers, but not stop there, he would continue the swing. Making almost a full circle with his blade. But the interception would not be head on. Not nullifying her blade's momentum. Instead redirecting it. As the blade would be swung above his own head, most likely her blade would continue down into his cross-guard at this time. That was the idea at least. With it semi trapped there, he could force it down to his own left side around his chest height. Where he would stop the swing suddenly. That was where the counter attack would begin. With her blade down there, Markus would in theory, have free access to swipe her head clean off. Rather than risking separating her pretty head from her body, Markus would swing the sword in at her right shoulder with the flat side of his blade. Would still hurt like a female dog, but would do no permanent harm. He aimed for the shoulder because that was a good way to decrease her ability to fight. Get her desperate and perhaps whip out some riskier but more rewarding attacks.

[Blythe]

The metal of their blades crackled against one another as they swung through the air. Dense with man's intensity and human sweat. They circled lazily a moment, before Blythe's came to a halt by the man's cross guard.

The Konti's chest rose and fell rather rapidly as she fought to catch her breath. A flecked sweep of metal drawing her out of momentary pause. Lavender colored eyes licked the surface, tasting a hunger all consuming as the blade arced. Turning on her shoulder.

Blythe's eyes grew wide as she began to realize what was happening, and instinctually, began to pull herself away. Dragging the katana behind as her lithe form glided. But she was not fast enough. The end of the blade slammed into her shoulder. Causing her to wince as a sharp shooting pain began to course. Pulsating just beneath the surface of her skin.

Although she had not taken the blunt force of the blade's entirety, it was enough to make the Konti's bones ache. She grit her teeth in frustration as the flood gates opened. A barrage of moisture crashing against tinted iris. Coercing them into glassy state, in which the world seemed to waver and dance as delicately as flickering candlelight.

Blythe's thumbs shifted along the hilt as her blade retracted and she took yet another step back, distancing herself further. "Ack," she muttered under her breath as she forced herself to encase the fleeting.

Another tick and the woman was raising the katana high over her head. Her wrists flourishing just enough to make the blade circle. Run on a horizontal, it was as though it were a scorpion's tail. Poised. Poison, awaiting the opportune moment to strike. Another tick and she was darting forward. Coming within striking distance and snapping her arms. Forcing the gifted blade down swiftly, upon unguarded shoulder.

[Markus Andres]

Another successful strike to the woman's shoulder. It was a simple tactic. Attempt to deny them the use of their main striking weapon. Much like striking at Markus' shoulder or arm would be an effective tactic. Provided they could hit him. Markus could recognize talent when he saw it. The woman had only trained for a year or so. Or at least that is what she had told. In a year Markus would not have gotten as good as he was. He was honestly impressed by Blythe. Quite different from the Konti he had met in the mines those years ago. Markus was about to make a clever quip at her, but as he looked at her eyes. The moisture gathering. Markus felt a stab of guilt and decided that it was not the best time to stroke his own ego and rub it in her face. Markus wondered if the spar was over. He hoped not, for he was enjoying himself quite a lot. Split decisions, determining if he would live or die. It was exhilarating. But perhaps it was for the better if they did not continue. He was about to lower his sword and offer they ended. That was when she struck. Her body darting at him. Markus took a step back in response. Mere instincts to get a better footing. For he was quite surprised by her sudden charge. His sword went up in an almost horizontal head guard. Covering his entire body and head from her attack. Her katana struck. And it struck hard. Markus felt the blow as it was absorbed by his arms and torso. She was not kidding around at all. Markus loved it. He pushed away with his arms. Forcing her blade a little up and giving him time to perform his counter. His blade moving in a semi circle from the defense, into the offense. A smooth transition as the blade was aimed directly at her right thigh with the flat of the blade. Markus knew all too well he could risk chopping off her leg if he was not careful.

[Blythe]

Blythe smirked as her blade struck. She could feel the jarring tension radiating up the length of her arm with the rise and fall of a sudden, minor victory, as she pushed his blade back. Lavender colored eyes shimmered with a slight intensity as she reined her weapon in, and took a half step back, so as to help stave off any impending offensive strikes.

The Konti didn't have long to recover, or to wait however, considering the ferocity by which the knight came back at her. Attempting to strike outer thigh. It was a hassle then, for her to continue her retreat, and rapidly lower her blade. Sweeping it down, and on a slight diagonal so it cut across her leg. Held firmly, muscles taught, keeping Markus from striking her once more.

The familiar ring of metal sounded as the Konti drew back. Pulling her katana up as her legs crossed, and then came undone. Allowing her to raise the weapon even higher, before striding onwards, her body threatening to crash into that of the knight as she cut her blade through the air. Raking it from his middle down towards his knee, in an attempt to sever the strings.

OOCSorry for the wait, and the fact that this is complete rubbish.

[Markus Andres]

The cold unforgiving steel collided again. Markus let a single breath escape his lips before he sucked in deep. Their dance would continue. A dance of death and danger. For the Konti had lost all restraint, or so he believed. Things had turned dangerous. His eyes narrowed on the target. The not so harmless Konti. Markus stepped back. His leading leg becoming the back leg in the matter of a moment. Her sword sliced the thin air until their blades would meet again. Markus' own bastard turning it aside. Away from his now leading leg. She had not been playing around with those last two strikes. Had his parries not been in place... Markus would have shuddered at the thought, if his muscles allowed such weak motions at a critical time like that. The blade was turned to the right. His common stance. Shield leg on the left, leading. His default stance. Markus' master would have whipped him for calling any stance default. Such things bred predictability. Which made him weak. He excused himself with this being a new, foreign opponent. She did not know his default stance. Markus, having finally realized the danger of the Konti lady, decided not to hold back anything. The woman knew how to fight. He had desired this desperation or aggressiveness in the lady, but in the moment. He knew he had pushed too hard and now he was in mortal danger. - Yet... He could not help to enjoy every breath-taking second of being faced with mortality. Markus stepped forward. In very close to the lady. His sword having swung back up. Left hand let go of the hilt and right hand simply punched forward. Punching the cross guard, hilt and pommel - All of it - in the direction of her stomach. The intention was clear. Strike deep and cause great pain. Without killing or injuring her... too much.