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Post by steinerman on Jun 28, 2009 23:53:13 GMT -5
Michael's laugh rumbled through the icy room, "I assure you sir, I am no axeman." With that, he strolled over to his pack lying against the wall and drew out Amoracchius, he turned and took a practice swing with it. And then glanced at Sturm, "ready when you are," he said while politely bowing.
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Post by Sir Lighter of Elsewhere on Jun 29, 2009 22:52:21 GMT -5
With expert precision, Sturm sheathed his blade in one fluid motion, removed his hat, and bowed deeply. He then stood straight, stuck his hat back on his head, and drew Cool Fire. "Let's do this thing."
Sturm rushed diagonally, slicing with his blade. He spun around, and prepared to counter. He glanced down, and saw a large patch of ice near by. Sturm kicked off the snow, propelling himself to the other side of the room. I'm getting too old for this...
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Post by steinerman on Jul 5, 2009 23:56:07 GMT -5
Michael grinned, and then stepped backwards to stay away from any possible strokes Sturm might try while moving across the room.
With a laugh he brought Amoracchius up over his head and let loose a glancing blow with the flat of his blade, hoping to catch Sturm unexpected and knock him off his feet.
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Post by Sir Lighter of Elsewhere on Jul 6, 2009 1:16:46 GMT -5
Sturm slid away from the sword strike, and then landed in a small snow bank. He kicked off the snow, again sliding across ice, this time toward Michael. Sturm kicked powdered snow at Michael's face, and then attacked with the blunt side of his katana.
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Post by steinerman on Jul 12, 2009 17:09:52 GMT -5
Michael growled as the snow stung his eyes, and clouded his vision. He blinked rapidly, regaining his eyesight in time to feel the snapping pain as Sturm's blade connected with his chest. The blow knocked him back, but not down. He shook his head at his mistaken, then with lightning quickness, he surged forward. Hoping to catch Sturm as the man came out of his swing.
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Post by Sir Lighter of Elsewhere on Jul 12, 2009 23:41:31 GMT -5
Sturm grinned as his cheap trick worked, but his grin quickly faded as he saw the large man recover. Sturm tried ducking back, but he slipped on the ice, landing with a hard thud. Sturm blinked a few times as he recovered, standing back up.
"Ow... That hurt like hell." He backed off, cracked his neck a few times, and took a defensive stance, holding his blade low, point down, and with his right hand.
"All right littl'un, let's see what you can do." Sturm readied himself for the attack, standing on a nice patch of snow.
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Post by steinerman on Jul 21, 2009 13:55:33 GMT -5
Michael stopped for a few precious seconds, realizing Sturm seemed to be moving unnaturally fast. He remembered an odd conversation tidbit from earlier. What was it he said.... something about the cold and how it made him stronger?, his eyes widened as he realized that must be the case.
Sturm grew stronger as the weather grew colder, for a second he was tempted to call forth Amoracchius' holy fire and melt the ice. But the thought vanished quickly as the flame didn't exactly have a "low" setting, and might harm Sturm in the process.
Instead, he decided to attempt and drive strum away from the small pile of snow upon which he now stood, hoping this would weaken him enough to bring him down to a manageable level.
He stepped forward carefully, wary of any more tricks, blade perfectly still. And then he let loose with a swift strike towards Sturm's legs. Here goes nothing
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Post by Sir Lighter of Elsewhere on Jul 29, 2009 19:23:54 GMT -5
Sturm slid his feet back a few inches, just barely dodging the sword strike. He swung his sword down, hoping to lock blades with Michael as he recovered from the swing. Sturm swung his fist at Michael's head, throwing his entire body weight into the strike.
"There's more to fighting than work with a blade. Is that a hand-and-a-half sword?"
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Post by steinerman on Aug 4, 2009 1:42:49 GMT -5
Michael dodged the blow to his head, barely. He then backed away and nodded quickly in response to the question, "aye, hand-a-half. You have a good eye." well...that worked, sort-of, he then brought up his blade again and stepped forward. "So, where'd you learn to fight so well? I haven't fought someone of your skill in a long time."
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Post by Sir Lighter of Elsewhere on Aug 4, 2009 2:04:05 GMT -5
Sturm bowed deeply, humbled by the comment. "Let us call it a truce... For it is obvious that this will go nowhere. I am quite happy with the out come, and how we both have things to brag about."
Sturm stood up and extended his hand. "I learned to fight with the The Order of the Silver Star, under a Mr. Black. He was a master of all things bladed. He can cut hairs off your beard with an ax, should he want to. And also, that fight with the badger helped." Sturm ran his index finger along the long scar wrapping around his throat. He turned around, and picked up his other weapons.
"What about you, Michael? Youth is on your side, as is talent. But talent and youth are never enough. You must have had training. But from what I saw, you are still missing a few things with your swordsmanship. The best fighters, especially those with hand-and-a-half blades know to use the full weapon, pommel to tip, as a weapon. Only the fools fight blade alone."
Sturm approached the man. "If I may pass along a few tricks I have learned, about fighting with swords. Not to doubt your skill, but rather, to make you a better fighter. I'd hate to see a smith as skilled as yourself perish to his own creation."
Sturm drew Cool Fire, and ran his finger across the flat side of the blade, admiring the skill of Michael.
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Post by steinerman on Aug 4, 2009 2:20:01 GMT -5
Michael blinked, then gracefully lowered the holy blade in his hand. He walked to his pack and retrieved the blade's scabbard, stalling for time to ponder the interesting offer. His pride stung slightly from the remark on his training, but common-sense and the desire to learn quickly silenced his haughty pride.
"I am always willing to learn, you are obviously a skilled warrior, more so than I. Any tips or tricks," He paused and smiled humbly, "or reprimands. Would be most welcome."
In truth, Michael was awed by the prowess shown by his opponent. He considered himself an excellent fighter, yet he was almost sure that Sturm could have leveled him if he had really tried. This man has skill far beyond mine. I would do well to learn everything he wishes to part with.
Michael was no fool, and realized that Sturm most likely wouldn't pass on too many tips, not to a complete stranger who's only reason for being there was to reforge a blade. But there was a possibility, a very small one, that he could learn some useful tricks from Sturm.
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Post by Sir Lighter of Elsewhere on Aug 4, 2009 13:59:49 GMT -5
Sturm grinned at the young man's eagerness to learn. "All right, now, draw your sword. First things first, dirty tricks. Kick sand, snow, the groin, whatever, but do not be afraid to use your feet in combat. If we had more time, I would tie your hands behind your back, and make you fight me. That's what Black did to me. And then he came after me with those damned axes... Oh well." Sturm demonstrated, kicking a large pile of snow with the side of his foot. The powder flew up, face high.
"All right, so, when fighting for your life, nothing is off limits. You have that nice blade, one or two handed; you have a choice. Now, I will strike low, at your thigh, I want you to block with your blade, and then, when my weapon is tied, hit me in the face with your fist. Not really of course, but you get the idea."
Sturm swung low, with the blade in his left hand.
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Post by steinerman on Aug 24, 2009 2:40:07 GMT -5
Michael paused for a moment, part of him worried that he wouldn't stop in time, that he would actually hit Sturm. But he shook his head, cleared his thoughts, and blocked the strike easily, catching the opposing blade and gracefully swinging it away from his body with his own blade.
As he did so, he brought up his left hand as if to strike Sturm's face, though he prepared himself to stop if it appeared Sturm could not block the blow.
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Post by Sir Lighter of Elsewhere on Aug 24, 2009 12:07:01 GMT -5
Sturm's right hand glided up, gracefully pushing Michael's fist out of the way. Sturm launched his left foot at Michael's shin.
"There are nerves in the shin that run downward. I you kick with an upward, it stings like a banshee. And the next time you try to hit, don't make it so painfully obvious. hit somewhere where I can't block you that easily. The ribs work wonders, but you have to hit fast. Speed is usually better than raw power. If you can out maneuver, you will usually win. But nobody said a bit of force is a bad thing. Now let's try this again."
Sturm backed up, and attacked again, swinging at Michael's knee cap.
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Post by steinerman on Aug 24, 2009 12:43:14 GMT -5
Michael grimaced as he again blocked the strike, realizing that he would have to try something different. He planted his feet as firmly as possible on the ice, then feinted with his right hand, while at the same time kicking his foot at some nearby snow to distract Sturm. Instead of simply kicking the snow however, he continued the kick, aiming for Sturm's knee. He'd better block this... Michael thought worriedly.
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