Closed [Fighter's Pit] Blade and Babble

[Lorden Ladis]

30th of Spring, 515 AV

Lorden looked around the pit, his wave-like eyes searching casually, as his heart jumped a bit in his chest. The knight's lips furrowed.

Still not here, the swordsman thought, taking in the shapes that dotted the Pit; some of the ground's patrons almost looking familiar to the man, but none were who he was searching for, in particular.

I would've sworn this was the time, Lorden mused further. The knight looked up at Syna, as her godly form hung shone in it's almost-mundane glory, noticeably set somewhat to the eastern portion, of the cloud-laden azure sky.

The knight sighed, and shrugged mentally.

For all I know, I'm the early one, he figured, looking around as he did. The warrior did a one-over of the courtyard once more. Lorden felt a butterfly or two flutter about in his stomach, for a tick, as he realized he was the only one just standing around gawking.

Warm ups, the notion shot into the twenty-year old's mind, and he found himself all but nodding along thoughtlessly. The knight took a breath.

Lorden slid his left leg back, extending it fully behind him, until the tendons and ligaments that ran up it's length were pulling on themselves in opposite directions, in response to his motion. Meanwhile, to stabilize himself and complete the stretch, the knight took a few half-bounces forward with his right foot, until it was stretched out in front of him; he then proceeded to bend it into a ninety-degree angle. With as proper form as he could manage, meaning he was mostly going on instinct, the man brought his two palms from his side, to push down on his knee.

One, two, three, four, five..., Lorden counted the ticks, as he stretched. The knight didn't really know the proper number of counts, that one was to follow when performing the stretch, or if there even was one; so, he just went until his calves and thighs, began to burn and loosen.

Six, seven, he continued.

Taking a breath, Lorden stopped his count. With an exhale, the knight pushed up from his knee, and slid both his legs back to their default erect stance.

Checking one last time for the man named Holland, and catching sight of no one, the swordsman began to lower his right left behind him; intent on repeating the stretch, in reverse this time.

He'd wing the warm-ups until his partner got here, otherwise, they were just being used to give the knight something to do, and to quell his over-active mind.

[Holland Rolandus]

The day was calm and rather warm; Lovely some may call it. Holland simply enters the vicinity; As per usual he'd worn royal blue and silver attire. Upon his right hip was the odd looking Rapier; With it's pappen-heimer guard facing forward and the length of the blade within the scabbard. Simply watching as the opposing male did what appeared to have been stretches of some sort. Warming up; Was this some sort of important part of combat? Holland begun to think so as he watched the knight stretch and loosen himself up. Holland has now learned that before combat it is wise to stretch. He simply wondered why, but he wouldn't bother asking the question. Monkey see, Monkey do; Now Holland begins to attempt doing a few stretches of his own to see exactly how they would work out for him.

The pitter-patter of his heels could be heard as he steps forth. Making his presence known to Lorden whereas it hadn't been before. Holland, arrived slightly late and he had a rather good reason to do so as well. Holland had been extremely fatigue the past several days; Due to relentlessly training himself. Trying to learn more and more about bodily conditioning so that he may outmatch an opponent. Holland only recently began to think about the fact; That battles are won before one ever steps forth into the vicinity to battle. Battles are won by someone who is highly trained and disciplined enough to train themselves. Other then that, battles are typically not won in any honorable or glorious way. In Hollands eyes, Honor and glory were virtues of his. Which is why he would work as hard as he possibly could in hopes to achieve them; Regardless of what it took.

Holland, proceeds to lean forward, and attempt touching his toes. He could feel the pulling and stretching of his calves and thighs, although only for a moment he touches his toes. Before releasing them and leaning upright; Not knowing much about stretching at all. Yet, he did pull off a few "stretches" recently in the woods. Holland; still is quite the clumsy individual and he would still attempt pulling off a stunt. Holland slowly but steadily raises his right leg, placing his hand directly above his foot in the center of his ankles. Before pulling upward; Forcing the leg to bend backwards as it did naturally. Feeling something odd and large stretching itself out inside his thigh.

The stretching of the muscle felt absolutely ecstatic. A sensation that felt this amazing should be routine; Holland figured. Not only is it a combat advantage, but it also provides a nice feeling before a battle. It's a combination of two things that are compacted into one. It doesn't get much better then this; Holland thought to himself.

Ready when you are, My good man! Exclaimed Holland

[Lorden Ladis]

30th of Spring, 515 AV

Lorden watched with a bit of easing apprehension, as Holland entered the drifting sands of the courtyard.

Good, good. He's here, the tall man thought with a smirk.

The young knight raised a raven-colored eyebrow, when Holland began to go through a stretch of his own. Lorden hadn't planned to keep loosing his muscles after Holland arrived.

Alright then..., the swordsman shrugged mentally, with a goodhearted air of acceptance.

He has a right, to do everything I do. I guess, he continued to muse, as he began to mimic his would-be sparring partner's motions, as the man reached for his toes.

After a few ticks, the muscles under Lorden's shoulder blades, began to unwind themselves. The knight's face displayed a small twinge of primal enjoyment, at the feelings of lightness, that the stretch imparted upon his inner-back.

Lorden exhaled comfortably.

With the mounting of the benefits of the stretch waning, Lorden unfolded the bend in his torso, and brought himself to stand erect once more. The knight separated his touching legs, and moved them into a natural stance, as he glanced up, with a friendly look of greeting framed on his eased face.

"Ready when you are, My good man!," Holland exclaimed heartily, as the twenty-year old looked on at him.

"Of course you are! As am I...," the knight trailed of his words heartily, as he took a step, into arm's reach of the man set before him.

Lorden leaned in to the man, and spoke so only Holland could hear him.

"If you could keep from ringing my bells this time, I'd appreciate it. I'll try to do the same," the twenty-year old whispered jovially into his blue-shirted acquaintance's ear, locking his blue eyes with the man, and smirking knowingly, as he spoke.

Lorden leaned out of the man's personal space, ticks after his words left his mouth; his smile fading to a smirk, as he shuffle back a bit.

Taking a breath, the knight patted his leather scabbard with his left hand.

"I guess you'd want to do a bit of blade-crossing? I figure we can always use our fists later... Maybe even while we spare with our swords, if the chance presents itself," he asked calmly of Holland, with a bit of eagerness flashing in his wiry eyes.

I'll take him this time, the knight assured himself with a competitive musing, as his lips remained curled in an innocent-looking smirk.

[Holland Rolandus]

In an incredibly swift sudden burst of motion; Holland immediately proceeds to take up a stance. Clattering steel, guided by an unsteady right digit; As the blade was withdrawn from it's scabbard. One could very easily tell Holland was determined. His hands shook perpetually as the blades length exits the scabbard. Clasping hold of the weapons shaft which lied beneath the Pappen-heimer guard. With several metal protrusions exiting the outer lining of the circular-metallic disc. Which would cover practically the entirety of Hollands hand. Holland came today prepared to fight a battle, and a good one. One that he wasn't ever going to be certain about the outcome of; For he knew that this particular person was his equal. A friend that could also be called an absolutely great rival.

Now; The battle would begin, and immediately as Lorden taps the scabbard it's a tell tale sign. A sign that was quite the dead give away; Lorden was prepared for combat. Now, Holland steps forward a slight; Immediately taking up a rather well decent stance. Before allowing his right foot to slide back slightly, and leaving his left to lead the charge. His right foot was placed approximately eighteen inches behind his left foot, and a slight distance off from it leaving his heels to be parallel. An atypical combat stance this was often called; Holland begins to bend his knees at a slight angle in order to balance himself.

His elbows bend, and he ensures that he turns his torso off to the left side. Placing his left hand upon his thigh, and turning his feet in opposite directions. Before he proceeds to point the length of the steel Rapier at the opponent. With light reflecting off of the surface of such a rapier it exits off into the surrounding vicinity. With an absolutely lovely, and vivid glimmer; Leaving Holland astonished with the way it reflected off of the weapon. Holland attempts to figure out why it did that. Yet, this was no time for distractions; This was combat and he needed to focus solely upon that.

Now; Holland was fully prepared for combat to begin. Hopefully, things would go his way. This time he didn't plan upon attempting to seriously injure his combat partner. Therefore this combat situation should be far more casual and less driven by anger. This was a perfect opportunity; Whilst crossing swords they could perhaps converse. In order to attempt to learn more about one another; Words were the best way to express feelings. Hopefully this battle that has begun with words; Will end with more words. Although he learned from the first encounter; Lorden didn't quite like to talk very much during combat. Talking during combat, can and often times will become a major distraction.

Obsessively, he awaited an attack; Although in this case he would likely have to be the one to lead the charge. Therefore Holland begins to uplift himself upon his toes; Evenly distributing his body weight amongst his two feet. Walking forth as if he were a nimble Cat, and immediately proceeding to turn his torso toward the opponent. Before raising his forearm and bringing down the tip of the Rapier. Making sure that it pointed toward the opponents throat whilst doing so. An incredibly odd stance that sacrificed movement speed, for balance and grace. Although he would barely be able to uphold this stance for very long, he didn't care.

[Lorden Ladis]

30th of Spring, 515 AV

"Well alright then!," Lorden communicated heartily, as Holland reached for his oddly-thick rapier.

Stepping back, as the sound of skirting steel sent a instinctive shiver, up his spine, Lorden drew his own arming sword, and reached his non-dominant hand over to his left-side. Taking a breath, the knight unhooked his buckler, from his belt, and shot his right foot back behind him.

There was no need to advance, Holland was already more than close enough. Yet, something wasn't quite right, the knight had never seen whatever stance his opponent was in, it unnerved him, and made him cautious to be within its slashing range. Still, he had to be within arms distance to fight the man.

Maybe I can do both. I can make myself so close, that he won't be able to cut at me, at least for now..., Lorden mused to himself, thinking on his hesitance to slash or thrust.

A small smile of self-sanctification curled across Lorden's lips, before he pushed his back foot off heavily into the sand underfoot, and titled his torso forward.

As Lorden flew through the small gap of air, that was between him and Rolandus, the knight raised his left arm, and the buckler held thereon, and shot it up; the small metal shield was clearly aimed toward's Holland's hand.

A buckler wasn't a proper shield, not really anyway, but it could sure help supply a little brunt in a punch. And a punch, was exactly what the swordsman was now shooting toward's Holland's own sword hand; actually, the knight was throwing two. For as Lorden's buckler raised up to hopefully preoccupy his opponent's blade, the twenty-year old's other hand was moving as well.

The knight rotated slightly on his fast approach, to the where Holland's stomach was facing. With a strong exhale, the blue-eyed swordsman turned his sword-gripping hand palm-up, and pointed the blade held therein off into the air at his right side.

With a mighty exhalation, Lorden threw his dominant hand forward sloppily, spiraling it on a path that would, if everything worked out, set it to collide somewhat forcefully, with the trim gut of the blue-shirted man, who was before him.

[Holland Rolandus]

As Holland watches the opponents shield moving in for his hand; A wide grin found itself planted firmly on Hollands visage. Although the opponent attempted to knock the sword from his hand; The attempt would quickly be thwarted. With a simplistic and yet sudden burst of motion he proceeds to throw out a wild attack. Being that his hand had the advantage of height he made sure to exploit his strengths. Immediately he rotates his hand, and shifts it over to the left only slightly. In order to achieve his maximum potential for a punch. Slipping right in between Lordens guarded offensive defense. Aiming to strike his visage with the Pappen-heimer guard of the Rapier.

Whilst he simultaneously leaps, so that the punch may take a much more odd and harder to read angle. Not to mention he can just as easily narrowly avoid the opponents second attack. That was incredibly close, and scared Holland out of his mind. What in the world was Lorden planning when he'd attacked this viciously. Holland expected Lorden to be much more strategic, but this time he was fighting instinctively. Something scary, and incredibly dangerous began to come of this situation. Holland surely didn't enjoy that one bit at all what so ever. Although that was an incredibly good thing, and because of that it'd given Holland inspiration. He was going to battle as hard as he could for as long as he possibly could; Yet, he would have to remain calm at the same time.

Holland proceeds to battle although he knew precisely what the outcome would be. The opponent for now seems to be focusing primarily on the aspect of fighting without even bothering to make use of his blade. That was quite alright with Holland; Due to the fact that he would do the exact same thing. Without even hesitating, as Holland threw the ferocious punch to the opponents visage he steps in closer. Whilst throwing out his opposing hand in order to grasp hold of the opponents sword wrist. So that he might stop the next incoming attack.

His eyes widen, and he proceeds to push himself harder. Attempting to make his two counter-attacks faster. Although he notices that the more he flexes his muscles the slower his attacks become. Perhaps this was another lesson to be learned, and he continues to tense his muscles as he moves. Regardless of that fact he had to battle with all of his strength; For if not there was no point in battling. Without determination there is no such thing as strength, for you must have it to win.

[Lorden Ladis]

30th of Spring, 515 AV

Lorden's chest began to tighten a bit, both in fear and minor exertion, as his underhanded stomach punch, just barely slipped past Holland's quick-moving form. The knight would have cursed, both in frustration and admiration, if a flat piece of thin metal didn't slam against his left cheek, before he could.

Lorden's opponent's sword had slipped to the right of his shield, and into the inside of his left hand's guard. At this exact moment, Holland could have gouged the knight's eyes out, but the blue-shirted man had been merciful and a good sport, and had chosen only to 'punch' him instead; yet Lorden considered none of this.

All the swordsman 'thought' on, as he stumbled back, and as Holland's blade glanced off to the left side of his face following its connection with his jaw, was the ringing in his ears; and the numbing pain that was now swiftly coursing through his face.

The knight began to trip up over his feet, in his surprise at Holland's strike, and his own failure to prevent it. It was only when a strong hand wrapped around his own right wrist, as it hung in front of the twenty-year old numbly, that he began to catch himself.

Reestablishing a shoddily-formed foothold quickly, Lorden seized upon the unavoidable momentum stopping yank; that Holland provided as he grabbed his wrist; and thrust himself forward with his own two legs. Unable to use his sword, and with his buckler all but slipped past, Lorden leaned his torso into Holland's direction quickly, as his speed began to build.

The knight's shoulder slipped under his enemy's outstretched sword-arm, as he rocketed his forehead towards Hollands own brow, with a mighty force.

Petching ringing can't get no worse, the novice unarmed combatant thought on the sound that permeated his ears, as he instinctively thought of and hastily made the decision to headbutt his fellow swordsman.

[Holland Rolandus]

Holland immediately took on the impact from the opponents cranial structure. Feeling the intense pain from the head on charge that was unexpected. Having been taken totally by surprise he staggers backward slightly. Whilst maintaining his grip; Upon the opponents wrist. Now in a backhanding motion he proceeds to swing the rapier into the opponents visage once more. Whilst yanking and twisting away at the opponents wrist to the best of his ability. Although he didn't quite yet have much capability of grappling just yet. He would eventually have to learn how to handle his own in a much more serious situation. His visage was in intense pain, very intense pain, and it did indeed become distracting.

He attempts to throw out his right foot and place it in between the legs of his opponent. In order to thwart his equilibrium upon his next attack; The battle had only just begun and already became a close combat situation in mere seconds. The rest of the battle would be determined on sheer skill and tactics from both parties. Hopefully, Hollands tactic to attempt off balancing his opponent would work. If not he'd always been able to come up with a last ditch plan which required quite a bit of effort.

Regardless of how reckless it was; Holland went with it. Often times being instinctive could help someone win in a battle. Relying too heavily on instincts is also a good way to lose. Due to the fact that one never quite knows what the opponents next move could be. For it could just so happen to mean the end of the battle right then and there. Therefore he figured that if he didn't bother risking anything he'd gain no reward at all.

Holland pushes forth, regardless of how much pain he felt currently. Willpower drove the outcome of the battle; Only the one with more willpower could win in a fight of determination.

[Lorden Ladis]

30th of Spring, 515 AV

Lorden's head drew back and hung limply, following its impact, against Holland's own brow.

Why did I do that...?, the knight's thoughts drifted shakily, as the incessant sound of ringing flooded his hung-back skull. Yet, even along with a budding headache, a shot of pride began to crawl up the base of the swordsman's strong spine.

Somewhat unaware of his surroundings, as he fought the pain, that he had brought upon himself; Lorden only just subconsciously acknowledged his opponent staggering, and pulling him back with him a half-step. Yet, as a resounding crack of bone and blunt steel cried out against his right cheek, all of Lorden's senses flooded back to life, and all of his less-primal emotions, such as pride, respect, and mercy, took their leave of his mind, as his eyes rolled into the back of his head.

Lorden began to stagger, but was stopped from falling back, by the counter-weight that was Holland. Having lost his balance, regardless of being unable to trip backward, Lorden began to stutter forward instead; as he bounced a bit, through the open air, the swordsman was made painfully aware of Holland's outstretched leg.

Dazed, but not fully unaware of where he was, or what he was doing, Lorden lifted his own left leg, as it brushed against Holland's dominant one. Clumsily, the knight bounced over the opponent's tactically-placed obstacle, and threw his free left hands out, to grasp for the man's own left shoulder.

As his hands wrapped around the top of Holland's shoulder, Lorden replanted his feet eagerly. Stabilizing himself, a biting rage that was only slightly tempered by reason, caused a need for retaliation to began to bubble up, in the depth's of the twenty-year old's stomach.

Driven by his emotions and instincts, and as his ears lowered their headache-induced cries to a mere hum, the knight shuffled forward and into Holland clumsily, and pushed against the man's non-dominant shoulder, with the face of the steel buckler held in his left hand , as he moved. Annoyed by how impeded he was, by Holland's steely grasp around his wrist, he twisted and hooked his front leg under the man's own non-dominant leg. Suddenly, Lorden's shuffling became a leap.

This was a tackle, a mix between a charge and a sweep kick, and something that hardly looked coordinated or unstoppable... But it was something, he was doing his best to counter the determined man, and the move had the full brunt of the knight's dazed strength behind it.

[Holland Rolandus]

As he observes his opponent leaping into the air; whilst still holding his wrist. The opponent might've caught him off guard by attempting to sweep out his legs; though Holland simply moved forward so that even if he were to fall. He would likely be the one to land atop his foe. Lorden attempted to bombard Holland with an incredibly swift set of movements. Holland refused to look as if he were but a weakling in comparison to his rival. Therefore he began firstly by making use of the hand he held on to so desperately. The opponent was very clearly incredibly determined and practically charged him like a wild animal; still Holland remained calm despite having to fight the incredible amount of pain he'd taken on. Holland makes use of the momentum given off by his opponent, and he didn't even know what he was doing.

All Holland knew was that he had to avoid being toppled like this; Holland proceeds to twist away at the wrist , and grip it incredibly tightly. Pulling it backward whilst bringing around his opposing arm which still held in it the rapier. Throwing outward his forearm for the opponents chin, and rotating simultaneously. In order to attempt grounding the opponent with an unorthodox clothesline.

Hopefully the sudden motions would catch the opponent off guard. Although if it didn't he'd truly run out of options at this point, and he was nearly toppled by his opponent. Who could've practically utterly destroyed him with a single sweep, and didn't care to bother attempting to stop himself from being pushed about with the buckler. He'd dealt with the pain appropriately and pushed forward; driven by nothing but sheer will power. If the attack was successful and he landed atop the opponent; he would surely attempt to thwart the opponents ability to move. Though he wasn't even anywhere near close to being adept at wrestling; time and time again Lorden forced the entirety of the situation to become close.

Perhaps Lorden preferred close combat to typical sword combat.