Tournament of the Blade - Final Match: Naimes Ahn-Dross vs Aaralyn Rekali

[Ashin Varanin]

[member="Naimes Ahn-Dross"] [member="Aaralyn Rekali"]

You know the rules.

This fight will end Sunday Feb 8th, 5PM EST, or until one of you concedes.

MYRKR​

Bright hot lights. Floating holocams. A roaring crowd of twenty thousand. The ring is an octagon, thirty feet across, seven hundred fifty square feet. Its walls are durasteel mesh, so fine as to be transparent but tough enough to stop a blade.

There is no referee. There is no clock. There is no water; there will be no breaks.

GNN estimates the total volume of bids cast on this match alone at two point two billion credits.

 

[Naimes Ahn-Dross]

...the roar of thousands were there to greet him as he moved into the octagon arena, which he had to admit was quite large, his left hand raising to shield his eyes momentarily as they adjusted to the glare of the bright, hot, lights. Naimes had fought hard to make it this far in the tournament, the finals, now he was greeted by the sounds of bloodlust, some of which were chanting his name, as he rest his feet on the floor underneath them. Moving into the octagon he came to a halt while staring across at the other side, his hand lowering as his eyes adjusted to the light...

...Aaralyn Rekali, a name that he knew well now. They'd faced each other earlier in the tournament and it had been decided that she had fought with enough vigor, enough valor, that her fate had yet to be decided. Naimes had no issue with this as he considered her a worthy opponent to cross steel with. Last time they had met one another the arena was a swamp but now it was much more simple, more pure, a purists haven where the terrain was even and there were only two combatants matched against one another...

...Naimes had come into the arena wearing familiar attire. Heavy Boots. Leggings. A Beige Tunic. Leather Gloves with open fingers. His clothing was comfortable, the tunic much lighter than the woolen shirt he had began the tournament with, ensuring his movements wouldn't be restricted. The heat of the lights would cause him to sweat but not as quickly as it would have if he was wearing heavier clothing. In his right hand Naimes gripped a hand and a half sword which measured a total of fifty-one inches, the blade compromising forty-three inches of the weapon with the remainder stretching out into the hilt. At the moment the sword was sheathed in a wooden scabbard, tanned leather stretched across its surface...

...taking the scabbard of the sword in his left hand Naimes would tuck it against his left hip, his right hand remained on the hilt of the blade reaching across his midsection, as he moved out towards the center of the arena. Footsteps came easy for him as he moved into the center of the octagon waiting for his opponent to appear. Naimes would stand square at the moment, at ease, his eyes were keen, darting around the arena, back and forth. Outwardly he appeared calm, composed, he projected a picturesque image of a man who was at home in his environment and ready for the challenge ahead...​

​

[member="Aaralyn Rekali"]

 

[The End Narrator]

Spoiler

http://youtu.be/XziKSfxBuvg

Crowds…

How she hated them…

She didn't like the people within the crowds or even the jeering and sometimes obnoxious remarks - but the emotions that flowed like a toxic river over her as she entered the arena. Even without the Force, one could tell that there was excitement and even rage burning through the air with each chant. They were a bit of a distraction one might say, perhaps even a motivator to make it quick. She heard her name in the mix of the noise, along with the name of her opponent - [member="Naimes Ahn-Dross"]. A grimace would cross her face as memories of the swamp fight would pass through her thoughts. Fortunately for him, there would be no pebbles in this arena to press along introductions.

Aaralyn held Noctem tightly in her right hand, thumb against the pommel as she gripped it in a reverse fashion against her right hip. She kept it in a close-guard fashion as it were as she marched from her own entrance. Blackened combat boots leaving behind small plumes of dirt in their wake, her attire shifting of course to fit the climate within the arena. Her camisole appeared to be made of a stretchable and even breathable material that would potentially aide in this type of environment – as cotton or other synthetics might prove to be itchy and even clammy. Aaralyn was no fool, and comfort within the confines of her combat leggings, however the color would reflect different shades of green, tan and black – a camouflage pattern of Myrkr nature. Of course, one could not step into an arena such as this without glasses, she would ensure they were shatterproof by all means as to prevent them from being broken off into her face or eyes. The harsh light would glint off their darkened surface and keep her eyes from squinting in the light.

Her exposed skin would begin to bead with tiny droplets of sweat as she stepped further into the arena, amethyst eyes gazing through tinted glass at the form of Naimes. Her steps were cautious and measured, much like her breathing. She was cool, calm and collected in both body and mind – she had brought herself to this moment and hoped that she had what it took to finish it. There was more than credits riding on this fight, to her, it was the namesake of her very being. It wasn’t about being a Jedi, or being the very Sword that was meant to pierce the darkness that raged through the Galaxy – it was about being a Rekali.

It was about a warrior spirit, about honoring her father for everything he had taught her and for all the times she had disrespected him. She owed him that much – and she just hoped somewhere he was able to see all that she had accomplished on the field of battle.

She came within a few feet of [member="Naimes Ahn-Dross"], remembering the length of his blade as well as his quickness and she allowed herself a cautious yet polite bow in respect. Her right foot would slide back a few inches, her left crossing briefly infront of it. She kept her eyes on him as her left hand swooped in at the chest, clutching it across vertically out of respect.

“Ut honore erit apud tibi.” She spoke softly in Dathomiri dialect.

Spoiler

OOC – Rough translation is May Honor be with You.

 

[Naimes Ahn-Dross]

...by now his eyes had started to adjust well against the bright lights that lit the arena. Well, maybe, not completely but Naimes could see the silhouette of the woman he was fighting clearly enough even if the finer details of her face seemed a bit blurry to him. Looking at her Naimes would keep a respectful distance while drinking in her attire as she came closer to him but beyond that he would note how she held her own sword. Interesting choice, he would make a mental note of how the sword was currently held, rest assured he had already begun calculating different factors between the two of them though he had not acted as of yet as Aaralyn came closer to him. There was a level of respect that needed to be observed in this particular instance...

....when Aaralyn came within a few feet of him Naimes would stand straight. Observing his opponent as she bowed Naimes did not move, he stood as square as he had been when he entered from his side of the arena, allowing her to complete her ritual without fear that he would attack. Once Aaralyn had finished, offering her words in the process, Naimes would tip his head towards her politely, stating..."We are, all of us, two people."...a rather cryptic statement which concluded as his head rose and he straightened easily, focusing on the woman standing ahead of him...

...he saw her sword, held in the reverse fashion against her right hip, then he would act. They were close to one another but Naimes felt he needed to cover just a bit more distance...

...his left leg came sliding forward, putting him into a left side lead, so that he could cover the distance separating Aaralyn and himself more easily. As his left foot came forward his hand would tighten around the scabbard of the sword, he brought it parallel with the floor, then he would allow it to poke out further to his left. In the same instance his right hand would curl tighter around the hilt of the sword before it came ripping out of the scabbard and Naimes swung it across in a deft blow...

...the sword would come from Naimes left to right in a horizontal sweep as it tore from its scabbard with an intent no less then having it brought across the midsection of Aaralyn, above hip height, from her right to left as it was swung. Were the swing of the sword successful, in motion if not intent, it should end to the right of Naimes as the momentum of the swing would carry it fully back across to that side...​

​

[member="Aaralyn Rekali"]

 

[The End Narrator]

Aaralyn noted his calm demeanor, his outward presence spoke volumes, he was beyond prepared for this. She was curious as to what drove him to even enter this competition in the first place, perhaps when it was all said and done she would be able to ask him, for now - he was the enemy. He was polite this time around, she’d give him that much – his words of wisdom? Were a bit confusing to say the least. Aaralyn would raise a slender eyebrow as she stood upright and took a moment to think upon them. Did it have to do with life? Or was it just something cryptic to allow her a momentary lapse of distraction for his movements. Her eyes would widen and action would be taken as she jerked to the left – rotating her hips slightly as her left leg would slide back to support the right leg being planted infront.

Noctem would come up with her right hand, thumb pressed hard against the pommel whilst her fingers gripped tightly against the hilt. She knew the impact would be harsh and the intent was to throw her off balance. [member="Naimes Ahn-Dross"] anticipated her being able to block it, but why leave himself open? Her right hand would rise up to slightly above shoulder height, the flat part of the blade absorbing the hit with a jarring fashion. Fortunately, she had the spine of the blade pointed in her direction, allowing for her to advance forward – almost in a lunging fashion.

Her left foot would slide, as would her right, closing the distance between her and Naimes, using his blade and the lock as a guard to prevent another attempt at her form. The sound of metal grinding together and sparks flying caused the crowd to roar in excitement. She would execute a move similar to her attempts in the swamp. She brought her left shoulder downwards and in – aimed at his sternum. At the same time, she would keep her head high enough to bring the frontal plate of her skull and drive it right into his chin. Perhaps if she were lucky and he didn’t disengage completely and lock her into melee combat – she’d knock him down and get the air out of his sails and sent the stars shooting across his vision….then again that was if she was lucky.

This man was no ordinary combatant by any stretch.

 

[Naimes Ahn-Dross]

...the impact of steel was jarring, the roar of the crowd electrifying, however Naimes would only nod as he felt the reverberation of the impact between his sword and Aaralyn's ride up the length of his arms. After such a powerful clash of steel it was almost to be expected however this had no effect on Naimes with consideration to his focus, his concentration remained plainly on Aaralyn, he would take in the movements of his opponents with a keen understand of the combat evolving between the two of them. Narrowing his eyes just a bit Naimes allowed his blade to remain tight against Aaralyn's after the impact, the steel digging against her own as their swords appeared locked against one another....

...when Aaralyn came at him, dropping her left shoulder to lead, Naimes would move swiftly to counter. With his right foot already held back in favor of the left side lead he'd taken he'd slide it further to his right while transitioning the majority of his weight onto it. As Aaralyn came ahead, closing the gap between them, Naimes would retreat on the ball of that same right foot. Pivoting outwards he'd have opened himself like a door that drew his left side backwards, disengaging both himself and his sword from the combat in the process, and attempted to turn him into a right sided lead that faced Aaralyn on the profile of her left side at a rough forty-five degree angle...

...she'd brought her left shoulder downwards and in as she'd come forward, aimed for his sternum, however the pivot would prove ample in avoiding the frontal assault that Aaralyn had begun. As he made the pivot, in concordance with it, Naimes sword would actively disengage from Aaralyn's own, drawn back by the same backwards pull he used to to maneuver his body, and swing back until Naimes could lay the flat of the blade back against the outside of his left bicep while the hilt, pommel, remained poking ahead to some extent with his right arm having come to cross over his chest...

...then Naimes followed through. He'd hoped that be disengaging, offering little resistance to her forward frontal attack, that Aaralyn would be put off balance to some extent. Especially with her left shoulder forward and her head positioned to drive into his chin. Pumping with his right arm Naimes would allow the flat of his blade to rest against his left bicep in an attempt to let the sword steady as he drove it out on the forty-five degree angle he'd attempted to maneuver himself into to face Aaralyn's left profile with the pivot. Driving his sword outwards, hilt first, he attempted to crush its pommel against the left side of her face just over the shoulder she'd attempted to turn into him as she came ahead...​

​

[member="Aaralyn Rekali"]

 

[The End Narrator]

In the blink of an eye that it took for Naimes to disengage the blade lock and literally spin across her field of view, she was caught off-guard but not enough to stave off reflexes that had been in-grained in her. Her positioning would hold, but at a tactical cost to be only able to defend his attack and disengage completely without being able to send a counter-assault after her defensive maneuver.

Left foot would remain planted forward and her right remain behind but rotate inwards slightly, her upper body twisting to allow his pommel to slide across her cheek roughly and pass over her left shoulder. This was mostly due to her inability to gain a solid footing during the initial exchange of blade locking and momentum shift. Her facial expression would shift as she felt the metal grinding against her skin and bone beneath. No doubt, he would leave a mark with the power applied behind it, but it sure was better than being knocked clean to the ground.

She brought her hand up swiftly to press against his elbow as she rotated around, her body following his forward momentum. Her footwork was simple, rotate and pivot in-place – do not allow her feet to be persuaded to move from position. As she rotated around, her right hand would rise up in a swift-thrusting movement. Her thumb would move from the pommel to the hilt and she aimed towards the exposed center of his back. The blade of Noctem would continue to remain in the reverse grip and approximately mid-chest height - given the height differences and her attempt to punch him in the back.

The intention was simple, disengage by pushing his elbow into a locked position. Use his forward momentum against him and give him a good ole’ sucker punch in the center of the back for good measure…just to get him back a few feet away from her. Of course, that was if he didn’t have any more tricks of his sleeve.

[member="Naimes Ahn-Dross"]

 

[Naimes Ahn-Dross]

…Aaralyn’s movements had been crisp, clean, and Naimes was left somewhat off balance as she pivoted in place. It seemed that Aaralyn was there one moment and then she had rotated herself around to strike him from behind while using one of her hands to lock his own elbow. A bit of an odd tactic that Naimes hadn’t been expecting seeing how his own style was much more straightforward. Regardless Naimes would twist at the waist, trying to bring himself around to see Aaralyn, his head turning at the same time to look for Aaralyn. Due to the twist of his body Naimes would feel the impact of her punch off to the right of his back, just off the center, which would cause him to grunt with discomfort…​

​

…the two of them disengaged following the exchange though. Naimes moved with whatever forwards momentum there was to put some distance between himself and Aaralyn. Dropping the scabbard he’d still been holding in his left hand as he went he’d have discarded it without a second thought. When he’d traveled several paces Naimes would have swung around, turning so that he could face Aaralyn, his left hand coming across to lock onto the hilt of his sword beneath the right, which gripped the weapon higher along the hilt, then he’d raise the sword…​

​

…the bright lights of the arena still bore down on the both of them. Small beads of sweat had begun to form on Naimes hairline. Inhaling once he’d have let his chest rise and fall as he took a deep breath. Altogether he considered that last exchange to have been successful. There was a throb in his back that was already beginning to fade. No different than how it felt to be punched any other time…​

​

…the sword he was wielding would rise over his head as Naimes positioned it into a high guard, right hand over the left on the hilt, his right leg would slide forward as he transitioned into a right side lead that angled his body to roughly forty-five degrees. Right foot pointed towards Aaralyn, left foot pointed outwards at forty-five degrees similar to how his body was positioned. Gazing across the distance between the both of them Naimes judged that it was likely anywhere from three meters to a little more, out of striking distance, his eyes were intent on Aaralyn as though baiting her to come towards him and attack…​

​

…once again the game was afoot…​

​

[member="Aaralyn Rekali"]

 

[The End Narrator]

Aaralyn could feel the sweat dripping down her face, her breathing was steadied and measured after that brief exchange of motion. She noticed the staggering momentum and quick recovery by [member="Naimes Ahn-Dross"] which allowed a smile tight to come to her lips, yet he no doubt felt success in his own right considering the red mark across her cheek that would no doubt leave a contusion of some sort – with residual pain. The crowd roared and cheered in approval as the two of them clashed briefly, and then disengaged all together. The noise level within the arena reverberating within her ear drums. Each pulsing thumb against the cage rattled her senses and threatened to throw off her concentration – it was more than aggravating.

Through narrowed eyes she would observe his every move, from his footing to the position of his sword. He assumed a high-guard stance, one which he had displayed before in their last meeting, however, there was no muck or mud to prevent his advances like last time. She had similar advantages, there was nothing to prevent her from being nimble and fast in her approach, dodges or twisting around like a piece of taffy – no mud to hold her in place.

This was going to be a raw fight to the bitter end.

Her left leg would come forward, foot pointed in his direction whilst her right would move back and point out at a 45 degree angle. She rocked slightly to adjust the weight of her body properly onto her rear leg for the moment – preparing to either dodge or propel herself forward accordingly. Her right hand shifted upwards on the hilt of Noctem, moving to grip the top of the hilt, butted up against the guard. She adjusted her left hand to bring it more towards the top of the hilt, closer to the pommel. She brought the blade behind her, in a reverse style fashion - outwards and away from her at a slight 45 degree angle. The edge of the blade would be pointed towards the ground while the back remained safely pointed up towards her person, however, it would not touch her. A simple and basic reverse grip, for some it was considered the tail guard.

Somewhere within the pit of her stomach, she could feel the knots beginning to form, her muscles aching to just rest. Why were these things so different? Oh right, the Force. It wasn’t present. So this is what it felt like to be normal, to be without the special abilities that made one unique. After so much time without it, she completely forgot the feeling of being able to sense without really doing anything.

The things we take for granted…

 

[Naimes Ahn-Dross]

...maintaining his stance, sword held over his head in a high guard, Naimes would watch Aaralyn, waiting for her advance, until it became clear that he would have to approach her and dictate the pace of their duel. Looking at her he didn't allow his facial expression to change however he continued to drink in her own stance easily, noting how she chose to face him with a left side lead and continued to weild her sword in a reverse grip. It was an oddity in a duel to see an individual maintain a reverse grip on their weapon mostly because Naimes was used to seeing individuals retain a more classical hold on their weapon. Nonetheless he took a breath, his chest rising in concordance with the air filling his lungs, then moved across the distance towards her...

...sliding forward, his left foot leading, Naimes would move right foot after left ensuring that his legs never crossed as he carried himself towards Aaralyn. While he moved Naimes would tighten his stance, tucking his elbows into his body and flex his fingers around the hilt of his sword ensuring that his grip was solid. His back where he'd taken the punch ached dully though the majority of the pain had faded into the back of his mind. Once again he focused solely on his opponent, unencumbered by the distractions that existed around him as a bead of sweat wept down the contour of his face and he felt the heat of the bright lights continue to bare down upon him alongside the roar of the crowd which seemed unending its call for blood...

...as Naimes came within two meters of Aaralyn he would begin to arc his sword to his right so that he could turn it into its next blow. Carrying himself forward slowly he'd continue to slide towards her, leading with his right foot and following with his left, until the gap between them closed to a more manageable one point five (1.5) meters and he struck. Arcing the blade to his right Naimes brought it down in a diagonal stroke that would carry it from his upper right to his lower left...

...the attacks intent was to come down over Aaralyn's left shoulder, catching her just behind the shoulder while she maintained her left sided lead, then carry through as its momentum carried the blade down to the lower left of Naimes. It was a basic attack. Naimes generated power, momentum, with his left arm which he used to pull the sword along its course from the lower position on the hilt while his right hand, locked above his left on the hilt of the sword, assisted in guiding the blow along the proper trajectory...​

​

[member="Aaralyn Rekali"]

 

[The End Narrator]

Aaralyn prepared herself as he closed the distance, heart thumping hard in her chest with anticipation of his move. Perhaps he would feint one direction and come another – no, that wasn’t his style. The deafening roar of the crowd seemed to dull out, almost in a lulling sense as he closed in. Her eyes shifted from his upper movements to his lower body, and then back – then she saw it. The strike that would come in at angle towards her leading shoulder and in turn she would make her move.

She moved her body in a counter-clockwise twist that brought her left leading foot back and her right foot up, shoulder length apart. She knew that with minimal preparation time and his momentum forward, he might buckle her down but she would potentially catch him off-balance by bringing her blade up abruptly to meet his strike before it got in the downwards curve. The sound of the metal impacting metal with such force caused her left ear to start ringing, her senses to dull slightly and the sheer delight of the crowd to ripple through the very core of her being.

Her right arm was bent at the elbow, above her head as she pressed against him, left slightly bent fully as she maintained a high-lock with [member="Naimes Ahn-Dross"]. Yes, as odd as it was it had a purpose. A tail-guard brought deceit in many forms, and although Aaralyn wasn’t wielding two weapons, there was more than just swords in play here. The beads of sweat dripped down her face as she stared into the eyes of the man before her, muscles tensing against her flesh, her forearm aching for her to give in. She could feel the weight of such a lock pressing down upon her, wanting her to bend backwards.

She wouldn’t do such a thing, no – instead she would surge upwards with all her might, despite the height differences. She would attempt a quick and abrupt attempt upwards to push, trying to throw him off the lock. Then she would drop to her right knee and duck through. As she ducked through, her blade would come across in an attempt to cut his wrists or forearms as she passed underneath his arms. Should she be successful in either, she would duck, tuck and combat roll up and behind him a meter or so. She’d have to make adjustments, reverse grip wouldn’t work anymore on a single-blade.

No, she’d have to do traditional style – something she hadn't done since she was a Padawan.

 

[Naimes Ahn-Dross]

...moving forward Naimes had been exceptionally careful, he slid his feet across the distance rather than picking them up so that his body wouldn't redistribute his weight, so when his sword came down for its diagonal blow and Aaralyn caught it with her own he was in a good position to recover. Metal on metal was heard like a scratching that irritated his ears as the swords met against one another in a clash of wills nevertheless he focused on his opponent, watching her carefully, while his fingers flexed over the hilt of his sword as he reaffirmed his grip on the weapon...

...during the block she'd made she had transitioned her stance which hadn't escaped Naimes either. He examined her while maintaining the block, asserting less pressure after his initial stroke had been countered than may have been expected though enough that Aaralyn would continue to feel the press in her arms.. Muscles in his forearms were also tense, the ringing of steel vibrating up through them...

...the upwards push Aaralyn made jostled Naimes however as she dropped to a knee to make her attack his reaction was twofold. Leading with his left leg Naimes would slide it backwards, quickly, transitioning himself into a right side lead in the process with the backwards pull of his body which saw his right foot take the lead, turning til its toe was pointed towards Aaralyn while the left leg took the read and turned outwards at a forty-five degree angle. As he did that Naimes would jerk his arms backwards so that they moved in concordance with the transition of his body, he would tuck his left elbow against that same hip while his right forarm came across his midsection. Opening distance between the two of them as Aaralyn ducked down onto her knee and drawing his arms backward to minimize the target they presented while maintaining control of his sword...

...the sting of pain followed regardless as Aaralyn's sword carved a path across the outside of Naimes right forearm. A vibrant pain filled his arm which caused him tighten his fingers around the hilt of his sword rather than loosen them. When a pain like this filled the man he wanted to clench his fist rather than loosen it. Droplets of crimson began to fall to the arena floor, the crowd roared its approval....

...now it was his turn however. Naimes had transitioned into his right sided lead however he kept his weight on the back of his left foot which allowed his to draw the right side of his body outwards once again. Cross stepping it backwards after a fashion. Using his left leg as a pivot point as Aaralyn combat rolled he would turn his body to follow hers as she rolled behind him and arcing his blade to his left as he did this he turned himself so that he would come around facing her backside as she came out of the roll. At least if everything went to plan. While he turned he would spare no time in swinging his sword outwards from his left, after arcing it over to that side, to his right along a horizontal arc that he intended to carve across her back underneath her shoulderblades from her left to right...​

​

[member="Aaralyn Rekali"]

 

[The End Narrator]

Aaralyn would come up to a kneeling position, her left knee hitting the ground and her right knee propped up – and almost instantly, a flash of pain surged across her back that caused a sundering in her mind. A reverberation of pain that coursed down her spine and a splash of blood across the permacrete followed by her crying out in pain that sent the crowd into a bloodlust. The durasteel mesh shaking wildly as people shook it in a violent fervor towards the sight of blood. She could feel it burning within the very second the cut took hold, sweat and dirt settling into the wound, causing her to cringe tighter. Muscles spasming in her back, making her grip Noctem tighter in her left hand. Her camisole staining a dark crimson down her the nape of her back. She would grit her teeth and squint her eyes and suddenly lash out.

Aaralyn grunted as she spun to the left, her left knee grinding into the permacrete – her right leg coming off the ground and extending beneath her form as she twisted around in a full 180 degrees. Noctem was held tight in her left hand, coming around in the full swing from beneath her form. She aimed in an upwards arc, potentially less than 30 degree angle from his left shin up to his right thigh. It wasn’t a calculated swing, or even a measured one like she were standing up in a straight on duel. Perhaps it was a wild one, but an intentionally disabling one at that - aimed at not just one but both of his legs. Tears of pain would mix with the sweat already streaming down her face as the swing itself took a toll on the burning tissue and muscles from the cut across her back.

[member="Naimes Ahn-Dross"]

 

[Naimes Ahn-Dross]

...it was hard not to feel a subtle amount of satisfaction as his blade carved a path across the back of Aaralyn Rekali however Naimes had no time for celebration as his opponent sought to counter the blow he'd delivered with one of her own. Down on her knee, with her back to him, Naimes knew that Aaralyn had precious few options, he considered her to have put herself in a bad position, which is why he would also seek to capitalize on the openings he believed she had left him. Using the momentum of his sword as it completed its swing over to his right he'd begin to arcing it further to his right and up over his next for another blow...

...Naimes divided his attention between his follow through attack and the wild lash that Aaralyn sought to deliver then. As Aaralyn came around, spinning to her left, so that she could face Naimes and deliver her own attack he would push backwards. Using, what should be, his now leading left foot, after he'd used it as a pivot point to bring himself around, would push back hard to propel Naimes away from Aaralyn as she came around to deliver her angled blow to his legs. When Naimes had begun the stiff push back the distance was a mere one (1) meter and he endeavored to widen it to two (2) meters which would likely put them both out of striking distance...

...as the backwards push of his left leg came Naimes sword would raise from his right side, where it had completed the horizontal blow, so that it would come up over his right shoulder and then arc across to his left shoulder. Then Naimes would swing downwards, diagonally, so that the sword would come down, over the top, from his upper left to lower right where it targeted the right shoulder of Aaralyn as her own sword came across for its lower attack. Naimes intention was to hack in into the top of her right shoulder, deeply, in concordance with the backwards push of his left foot so that as the movement completed the sword would also be pulled out of its motion and finish low to his right...

...all things came with risk though. To think that he might be able to do this unscathed was hubris. Retreating backwards Aaralyn's sword watch still clip Naimes across the front of his left shin causing him to stumble as he caught his footing during his withdrawal. It caused him to favor his right leg with the majority of his weight and he knew that redistributing would not be as simple as it had been prior...

...the roaring crowd was suitably pleased by all of this bloodshed but Naimes would curse himself privately. His right forearm bled and now his left shin. Not debilitating wounds but blood loss and pain would make him slower. Flexing the fingers of his right hand around the hilt of his sword he'd ensure that his hand wasn't going numb. A common tactic he'd learned to keep appraised of his own bodies wellness. Looking ahead, towards Aaralyn, Naimes would still lead with his left leg despite the wound, his foot raised onto its ball noticeably as he leveraged himself with the majority of his weight on his right leg...​

​

[member="Aaralyn Rekali"]

 

[The End Narrator]

The attack was simple in nature, perhaps not even cool and calculated like the normal strikes she was used to [member="Naimes Ahn-Dross"] bringing towards her being. She saw the measured draw back, and even the slight stumble and then the swing towards her shoulder. Her body ached and cried out in objection as twisted herself to the left, however, she wasn’t as fast as she thought she was on the ground in this position. She could feel the edge of the blade scrape by the very top of her skin, ripping fabric and tissue as it passed through – a drool infused cry would reverberate against the very arena as she spit out blood infused saliva.

The crowd was beyond pleased, the back of her camisole was beyond crimson at this point and the pain was overwhelming – but she couldn’t focus on that. She had other things on her mind, like beating the man infront of her into a bloody pulp. While on her left side, she rolled up and onto her feet, pushing off the ground as best she could, despite the relatively sharp pain in her shoulders. At this point she would be to the immediate right of Naimes body, perhaps a meter and a half away. Her left hand would come to grip closer to the pommel, while her right towards the guard of Noctem. Her right elbow closing in on the right side of her waist and her left slightly “free-floating” one would say. She held the blade infront of her, upwards at a potentially 45 degree to maybe even 60 degree angle.

Amethyst eyes burned with undying hatred and pain for this man, not for who he was, but for the injuries he caused her. Granted, he was injured too but she wasn’t finished with him yet. She would charge at this point and in such a short distance – she’d be on him before he knew it. She would feint to the right with an appearance to slash at him with a 45 degree angle cut from his right shoulder down to his waist – instead she’d go for a horizontal slash from the 5th or 6th rib area across, right to left. She'd use the environmental elements to her advantage, heat as it were probably was effecting him like it was her, much like his wounds were no doubt annoying him. Deceitful as it were, she could only hope the feint worked. It wouldn’t gouge him, but produce enough of a slash to inflict the maximum amount of pain without cutting him open. Similar to the wounds he caused her.

 

[Naimes Ahn-Dross]

...the sword had finished low to Naimes right, its blade angled off to the outside of his right leg, where it sat in position waiting for Aaralyn's advance. Looking at his opponent Naimes watched as she rolled off her left side and began to climb onto her feet, conserving his energy as the heat of the lights filtered down across his body and fell over his shoulders like an invisible weight, he moved less and acted with less explosiveness out of design. As it happened the environment was just one more obstacle in this arena, the heat playing a large roll as the beads of sweat dripped down his face, every time he'd moved Naimes had tried to use momentum or calculated, drawn out, motion to his advantage so that he wouldn't tire as quickly. Especially this late in the game...

...Naimes always kept the battle of wits involved in a duel active in his mind which is why when Aaralyn was moving, getting back to her feet, he wasn't jockeying for position; he was resting, letting the pain in his leg transform into an ache and managing the numbness of his arm, so that he would be ready. He never let emotion, anger, fuel his actions. When Aaralyn advanced Naimes was prepared knowing that she would have precious little distance to cross before she was upon him...

...when Aaralyn came at him, offset to his right side, Naimes was prepared. When the feint began he would jerk his left arm upwards, cocking his elbow so that it would start to rise over his shoulder, as he began to raise his sword to block but as Aaralyn drew out of the feint to commit to her intended attack he adjusted. Little adjustment was needed as well. The sword had been positioned low to the outside of his right leg; Naimes would raise it, his left elbow cocking above his shoulder, until the sword slid upwards to position itself diagonally across his chest from the solar plexus over his right side as the blade extended below his right hip. Doing that he also pushed hard off his right foot which had been held in reserve, supporting his weight...

...the forwards momentum would drive him closer to Aaralyn, across the already limited distance, where he would use the position of his sword twofold. Angling the blade as he had, diagonally, from solar plexus to below the right hip where it extended he would use the sword to catch the horizontal stroke of Aaralyn's blade on itself and ride it back towards her out of the blow with the heinous sound of steel scraping against steel accompanying the block. Driving ahead as he had, as well, he would use his blade secondary by attempting to rip the portion of the sword angling beneath his right hip across her own right thigh in the passing....

...the drive would put Naimes and Aaralyn backs to one another, still offset to the right of each other, if successful...​

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[member="Aaralyn Rekali"]

 

[The End Narrator]

She cried out in pain, something that was dulled by the roar of the crowd as the blade sliced across her leg. She collapsed to her right knee, her right hand gripping Noctem tightly as she fell to the ground in a kneeling position. Her left leg remained propped up, her left forearm pressed tightly against her unwounded leg. The sound of the crowd cheering, taunting and screaming the name of her opponent echoed across the arena. She could feel the heat beating down upon her back, drying up the wound that felt ages old – aching a dull pain now. The fresh wound across her right leg now burning with an intensity she never felt before.

His wounds were damaging, he was good. Her mind felt like it as racing and time itself was slow – she had one last trick to try to bring him down to her level – something. There was no inclination, no roar of defiance only movement. She turned abruptly and swiftly to her right, jerking hard against muscles that screamed and bloody wounds that denied her complete movement. Her sword would rise up in her right hand, angled inwards towards his right thigh. She would bring it in and pull back – aiming to cut the upper thigh around the femoral area down to just above his knee cap. The pullback motion of course would offset her body and throw her balance off.

A risky move but one she had to take, one she was desperate to take. Should it connect, she’d still fall back onto her side – wounded – but [member="Naimes Ahn-Dross"] would no doubt be brought down to her level. Should she be blocked…well only fate could tell…

 

[Naimes Ahn-Dross]

...the pass complete Naimes would have set himself back onto his right foot after momentarily steadying himself with his left which caused his teeth to grit together in pain as pressure was placed onto the wound he'd taken over the left shin. Almost immediately after he regained his footing Naimes would turn his head so that he could look back over his right shoulder, he'd heard Aaralyn cry out in pain during the pass he'd made which saw them come dangerously close to one another, assuming his opponent was on her knees but wanting to confirm the suspicion for himself. Once his head turned he'd have seen her in his peripheral vision. As it stood he knew that a proficient strike would likely require him to turn and face her rather than allow them to remain with backs to one another. It just so happened Aaralyn Rekali must have thought the same...

...Naimes would swing to his right, mirroring her own movement, so that he could come around to face her. As he turned he remained eyes on. By that same token Naimes would shift his hands, adjust how they held the sword, as he turned. Left hand would remain on the sword nearest the pommel while the right hand retained its grip above, higher on the hilt of the sword, however the right hand would roll over and take the hilt of the sword in what was essentially a reverse grip to make transition into the next movement less awkward...

...he came around to face Aaralyn though she may have been a tad quicker having started her own motion a fraction of a second before him. Bringing his sword over to his right completely Naimes would straighten it vertically, it had covered him diagonally from solar plexus to beneath the right hip as it extend out to his right, so that it remained at solar plexus height but the blade ran straight down to cover the outside of his thigh to knee. Aaralyn's own attack should have targeted the outer thigh of Naimes rather than the inner thigh as he came around defensively. Using his sword, his left arm extending across his chest to his right to set it vertically, Naimes would present the resounding clash of steel as steel crashed against itself...

...the block came hard, working in transparency with the movement of Naimes, it was just a fraction to slow. Pain came following the clash of swords while Aaralyn fell away onto her side. A cut, not very deep, bled on Naimes outer right thigh having sliced through his leggings before the block could complete itself. Naimes would shrug his arms to his right, attempting to press her sword away and disengage it from his own completely, then his left hand would press downwards until he felt the tip of the sword plant into the floor of the arena. All these nicks and scrapes were starting to add up...

...his left leg came back, just behind the right, making him predominantly square with Aaralyn while she lay on her side..."Don't."...he warned her though the roar of the crowd may have drown him out. Naimes wouldn't be moving very fast. His right hand was caked with dried blood from the wound he'd taken to his forearm, his left shin had been clipped nicely ensuring he favored his right leg and now his right leg had taken a minor wound on its outside which did nothing to compliment him. At this point he was slowing down. Adrenaline did its part to ensure he wouldn't feel the pain as keenly as he would otherwise but there was no denying that his eyes were deadly serious, focused...​

​

[member="Aaralyn Rekali"]

 

[The End Narrator]

Aaralyn sighed heavily as she laid on her side, she felt the tip of the sword being driven into the ground. She knew what that meant – he was just as damn tired as she was. She was breathing heavily as she propped herself up on her elbow, looking down at the various splatter marks of blood on the ground. No doubt her own, perhaps some of his. Who could tell – they had made a mess. She chuckled softly and lifted herself up, taking a step back and jerking her sword free from the ground.

“Gotta admit, you’re one helluva a fighter…” She gestured with her free left hand, she then switched the sword over to her left hand and extended out her right hand to [member="Naimes Ahn-Dross"]. “I think we can go about this all day, don’t you?”

 

[Matsu Xiangu]

[member="Shule Windspeaker"] | [member="Aaralyn Rekali"] | [member="Naimes Ahn-Dross"]​

​

[member="Reverance"] and I have reviewed the fight and the winner and champion of the Tournament of the Blade is...​

​

NAIMES AHN-DROSS​

​

You both suffered in some places as far as description goes. There were some parts of the duel that were difficult to understand and required more than a few reads to feel we really had a handle on the moves. I'd caution in the future against making things overly technical or burying it in more description than necessary as it can feel like a game of Twister and I have to make diagrams to figure out who's hand is where while their left foot is on green and their head is on blue.

That being said, there was a TON of creativity as far as counters and attacks went, and I personally loved the description of the arena itself from both of you, the excitement and distraction the crowd might provide. The atmosphere of this fight was awesome, and you both took realistic hits.

In the end it came down to the fact that Naimes had some solid, realistic moves and his description was excellent in regards to hand placement and overall intention.

Congratulations to BOTH of you. It was a pleasure reading all your matches, and we hope to see much from you in the future!