A Test For Blademastery
Aldur, Alika, Jeremiah
Setting: A Small Dusty Road
You see some wilting flowers on the side of
the road. It must have been a grand
sight to see that flowerbed blossom in the spring, but now it looks sad
more
than anything else. A ways to the west you can see people walking or riding
north and south on the large, well travelled road to Caemlyn, which looms
with its impressive stone wall to the north, across large, well kept fields.
To the east the road continues, to turn south after a while.
Alika walks a circle in the road dragging her staff in the dirt to mark
it. She looks to Aldur, her face devoid of expression, 'are you sure you
are ready for this, brother?'
A hot wind blows past.
Aldur shrugs lightly, fingering the hilt of his blade. His lips are tightened
in a small frown as he studies the circle. "As ready as I'll ever be, Gaidin."
Alika adjusts her boots, before standing to her full height. She unclasps
her cloak, tossing it aside to the edge of the road and the circle. Her
voice is empty as she speaks, 'you know how this must go, in order for you
to come away with what you wish. First fall that does not get up is the
victor, or a halt is called to make it a draw.'
A steady, hot wind begins to blow.
Aldur shrugs out of his cloak, folding it casually over his arm and lowering
it the ground. He loosens his blade in its scabbard, blinking once at you,
then nodding. "I know, sister." His voice is quiet, steel like his gray
eyes.
The sun rises in the east.
Alika steps into the circle, reaching her right hand across her body to
withdraw the power-wrought blade from the sheath at her left hip. She bows
deeply, 'then let us begin.'
The day has begun.
Aldur steps into the circle from the opposite direction, whipping out
his blade with a flash of cold steel. He crouches, planting feet shoulder-width
apart and wrapping both hands firmly around his long hilt. "Ready," he says
simply.
Alika holds her blade point up in her right hand as she circles Aldur
slowly, her eyes focusing on him from within the emptiness of the void.
She watches appraisingly, but makes no move to attack.
Aldur follows Alika's movements, feet crossing and moving with catlike
grace. His face hardens to rock as he seeks the comfort of the Void, an emptiness
in which he takes refuge. Only the corner of his lips twitch into a smile
as he watches you, silently, still circling.
Alika does not smile, her face unreadable as she makes each deliberate
step. Her wrists swivel quickly, causing her blade to make a fast, short slash
in the direction of Aldur's left knee.
Aldur steps light, moving forward and to the right. He rotates his own
wrists, metal clashing just inches away from his left knee. Shoving off from
the lock, he reverses his wrists, raising arms and blade in a deadly unit.
As his sword traces a rising arc, he uncocks elbows and wrists, adding force
to the slash aimed for her chest.
Alika's blade spins vertically in her hand, raising to clash with Aldur's
sword, parrying the blow aimed at her chest as she turns her body away from
it. Her arm moves fluidly, looping the blade around in a tight circle to
make a slash at the base of the man's neck.
Aldur holds his blade vertical, pointing downward, with his right elbow
cocked in the air. As your blade flies mercilessly toward its target, he
lowers his right elbow with a snap, righting his blade in a vertical line,
now pointing upward. Metal meets metal with a resounding clash as he grits
his teeth, feeling the shock of the strike through his wrists and down to
his elbows. Recovering, he flicks his wrists and twists his forearms quickly,
attempting to throw your blade off to the side, then crisscrosses your chest
with two quick slashes, from left shoulder to right rib, then back to left
hip.
Alika draws her blade downward, screeching its metal against that of your
sword. The point of the blade remains towards the sky as she traces it in
a wide arc from left to right and back again, the sound of metal against
metal filling your ears. She turns on her right foot, her body moving away
from your blow as her blade circles in a tight loop. The blade moves as if
an extention of her arm in its fluid dance, making first a controlled stab
at your nose, then your left eye, before tracing into a wide arc at your
left upper arm.
Aldur bends his right knee, lowering himself to the right as he raises
both arms, moving wrists and forearms to parry your first two blows, making
sure to take the brunt of the force at the base of his blade. Sighting your
last move, he quickly lowers both arms, lips grimacing only slightly as blade
skims flesh. Red wells through the shallow slash across his flesh, staining
his silk white shirt. As your blade flies downward from its slash, he uncocks
his right knee, stepping forward with the same foot, and whipping his blade
downward in a diagonal slash across your chest, from right shoulder to left
hip.
Alika steps to the left, bringing her blade upwards to block your slash
with a loud clank of metal against metal. She presses forward, the blade
in her hand turning to make a slash across your right forearm, followed with
a second aimed at the base of the left side of your neck and down across
your torso towards your right hip.
Aldur retreats his advanced right foot, curling arms inward and cradling
the hilt of his blade against his gut, dodging your slash against his forearm.
At your second and third slashes, he springs into motion, raising arms and
blade to parry your leveling horizontal slash, then rebounding off the collision
to flick his blade downward again, meeting your strike just outside his
right hip. He leans into the blade lock, gray eyes darkening as he holds
your blade at bay, then suddenly leaps to the left. His sword flashes in
a tight counterclockwise arc which ends smoothly in a fast horizontal slash
across your gut, from right to left.
Alika blocks the slash at her abdomen, drawing the power wrought blade
close to her, holding it point up, parallel to her body. After the clash of
metal against metal, her arm reaches out, feinting a thrust at the right side
of your rib cage before slashing downwards at your right thigh.
Aldur circles forward and to the left, feet dancing quickly to avoid both
thrust and slash. He faces you at an angle now, favoring your right flank.
Even as your blade still moves, his own weapon is a veritable blur of flashes
as he rains three quick strikes in succession, a light jab at your neck,
followed by snapping his wrists downward in a slash at your exposed right
side, underneath your extended arms, then whipping blade back up in a hack
aimed at your right elbow.
Alika steps back and to the left, her blade whistling in the air as it
moves to block the light jab at her neck. It screeches against your blade
as she pushes your slash downwards, the point of your blade cutting into the
leather of her leggings at her right hip, blood dripping down her leg. The
blade slides upwards meeting yours with a clank before it can hit her elbow
as she begins to turn on her left foot. She completes the spin, slashing upwards
from your right hip towards your left shoulder.
Aldur pivots on his left foot, sweeping right foot back and rotating his
body and blade along with it. Weapons clash where his right hip once was,
then he shoves off your blade with another flick of his wrists, continuing
to circle counterclockwise, still advancing on your right flank. Leaning
in with his left foot, he slashes at the inside of your right knee, then
gradually shifts his weight back to his right, reversing wrists and whipping
blade upward in a rising arc aimed at your chest. At the last moment, as
his hilt comes to a level with your chin, he snaps out his arms, uncocking
his elbows and deepening the upward slash.
Alika winces as your blade hits the inside of her right knee, bringing
the blade in her hand upwards to parry the slash aimed at her chest. She shifts
her weight back onto her left foot, taking in a sharp breath as her blade
thrusts towards your groin, looping out in a slash from left to right across
your abdomen.
Jeremiah slowly fades into existence.
Jeremiah materializes out of the shadows silently, his fancloth cloak
still concealing most of his body, though its draping obscure more than
conceal.
Aldur tries to throw his weight back to his right foot as quickly as possible,
grimacing as his mistake hits him with your slash, a thin clean cut ripping
through cloth and slicing skin in a graze. He springs off his right foot
then, stepping forward and crouching low, cradling hilt against chest before
extending both arms fully, throwing in the weight of his shoulders, back,
and the thrust from his legs in a powerful thrust squarely directed to the
middle of your gut.
Jeremiah winces slightly, but silently, continuing to observe the spar
passively, his face forming the barest expression of concern.
Alika falters as she turns, her blade pushing yours downwards across her
right thigh as her left knee buckles. Her left hand moves to the tip of
her blade, holding it against yours as she falls to the ground. Her fingers
release the tip of the powerwrought blade as her soft voice echoes clearly,
'Halt! I cannot stand on my own, for you to succeed in this, you need not
take my life, brother.'
Aldur nods grimly, straightening with a groan then staggering back as
the Void leaves with a shuddering wrench. Pain and fire hit him, hard, and
his knees buckling slightly before he grounds the point of his sword against
the dirt, leaning on it for support. He presses his left hand to his groin,
nursing the shallow cut.
Jeremiah moves forward as the halt is called, crouching silently beside
Alika, giving the victor a small nod of greeting and congratulations, leaving
over his fallen Sister to speak softly to her, "Your wounds are bad. I will
carry you to the city, then to the tower."
Alika breathes in deeply, wincing in pain as she looks to Aldur, 'I told
you to see that there were yellows present.'
Aldur shakes his head slowly, his left hand already stained red with his
own blood. Fortunately, the bleeding seems to be abating. "There are no
Yellow Sedai in Caemlyn whom I know of."
Jeremiah glances up toward Aldur, a slightly accusing look on his face,
before he turns his attentions back to Alika. Silently he grabs his sleeve
at the shoulder, and rips it off, "I will attend to her, Brother. There
are wisdoms where there are not yellows, and I believe a small band of representatives
from our tower are present as well.
Alika takes in a deep breath, looking at Jeremiah, 'you need not carry
me, I can walk with help, and ride with you.'