The Morning's Ground

It was a battlefield that had already seen the tragedy of great men in the folly of the unmistakable. To the West a great brick tower loomed and dominated the hill that was the only break in the flat landscape in sight, a grass sea stretched across all directions above ankle-level and held an eerie calm in the lack of present wind, likely blocked by the wind itself.

The coming field's scene was marred by a stark contrast when one caught a glimpse of the man that stands in the green infinity. Half down the hill toward the gentle dirt leading up stood a man darkened by sun and honed by a physical life clearly as the tower behind him gave a symbolic frame for his own large one. Two and a fifth meters tall and weighed down not only be the muscles  rewarded from his lifetime, but the armor he donned as well. Light bound leathers covered his feet and ranged upward to meet a layer of padded leather above the sole disturbance's legs and nethers. His chest was coated in a similar type of armor that stretched in surcoat fashion (though made of padded leather) down to the waist and split into tails to cover his knee-level on both sides. At the waist, a yellow rope tied across and held steady with it's multiple wrapped and coiled layers. Left of the disturbance's waist hung a typical and sheathed arming sword while the right boasted a dagger that ranged almost to a foot in length but nearly a third of that in width, a heavy banding of copper upon it's hilt that acted as a balancing to the arming sword when at rest. The surcoat cut off at the arms and neck, where the padded leather gave way to a smoother silk of the under clothing and the head respectively. There he had been planted, awaiting the extra-universal fate that had devised all that was to come, standing tall and deathly silent and still.

A man, clad in a strange suit of armor, exited the tower. While his stature was not quite as impressive as that of the man down the hill, he was still around two meters, but he seemed taller, mostly due to the armor. However, the armor itself was a strange make, covering only his head, shoulders, and torso. Everything else seemed to be covered in leather. The metal armor was not thick, either. Enough to take glancing blows but not enough to stop attacks which hit dead on. The leather, however, seemed thick, probably enough to negate hand to hand as a means of combat with this man. Even with its thickness, both the armor and leather seemed to focus on flexibility in the arms and legs, as well as hiding muscle tension, making it just a bit harder to predict what he would do next, which would explain why the cuffs of the leather seemed loose. It would also help prevent the leather from hindering movements. At both of his sides were bastard swords, approximately 140 centimeters in length, a bit longer than most, but not enough to classify as a greatsword. In any case, as the man drew the two swords, on in each hand, the metals themselves were revealed. Both were relatively simple in make, but they were certainly durable, as they needed to be. Simply put, these swords would not break easily, and likely not from simply clashing blades.

With a calm gait, he walked towards the man, holding his right sword so that it was propped on his shoulder, while his left sword was held pointing forward, just above the ground. It was not a conventional stance, but he was also far enough away that he would be able to change stances before the man attacked. As his job was currently defending the Tower, he had no issue waiting for his opponent to begin. He found it easier to let his opponents attack first, after all.

It was a simple matter that was automatic at this point. The process of taking in information and storing it all across the active parts of the mind. The adrenaline of combat increasing the senses as a thin smile crept up and plastered itself, firm and un-moving, only in the center as the rasp of metal that would soon be followed by clangs of the same metal gave all the words that need be spoken. A scene among two need only be understood by them and such was clear.

A simple crossing motion drew the arming sword from it's resting place at the waist into the arm it had been placed for. It's own rasp being heard a moment following that of the Tower Guard and with that they were set upon. The height differential was off put by the positioning amongst the hill but such was of little when the man of disturbance pulled his right arm up and twisted his wrist to hold his place extended, yet with his gripping fist nearly touching his chest as one may expect of a rapier, the dull grey metal and nature of the blade design taking an ugly contrast to the forceful and demanding appearance of greater bastard blades before it.

In the same moment the disturbance moved in a sudden burst, pushing off from the step as one might into a jump or the beginning of a sprint, he started off to the left of his foe in just a few strides, making a circling motion as the left and un-wielding hand dropped to the waist in a gunslinger's drawing position following an immediate second push off directly into and towards that of the Tower Guard. Striking out in a quick popping forward of the elbow and as he came in at a slight left lean against the outstretched blade, his own dull grey blade's short and stubby nature focusing against the further end of the greater blade to apply strength in a way harder to match and holding the death by blade that was oh so potential in every conflict oh so close but against the wall of lean, momentum, and the shorter blade's greater ability to apply that as weight and thus keep the mentioned bastard blade at the side, driving a piercing strike toward just above the elbow of the Tower Guard's right arm, while his darting left hand and side-face posture came in like a pointed and tunneling rail, while the man's thin front smile remained unmoved compared to his darting black eyes.

The Guard was not inactive while his opponent moved, preferring to watch and wait, but still prepared for what was going to happen. The purpose of the smaller weapon was obvious, meant more for parrying and creating openings than matching blades openly. While it was improbable to use it in a direct conflict, it was not impossible, not unreasonable, to imagine someone winning with such a weapon. Everything had a weakness, but all weaknesses could become strengths. The opposite was equally true, which was exactly what he was going to use.

Right as he noticed the man about to lurch his arm forward to strike his own blade, the Guard thrust his left sword upward and forward, aiming towards the shoulder of his enemy. Had he not thrust forward, his blade would have been far off of its mark, probably leaving his entire left side open. On the other hand, had his thrust be uninterrupted, his sword would have went straight through the man's shoulder. Since he had thrust forward, and was interrupted, his sword found the middle ground, aiming at the chest of the man, a few inches to the right of his sternum.

Meanwhile, the Guard's other sword fell to an offensive grip, pointing upwards and outwards, with a 45 degree difference from the ground, positioned so that the guard was five inches below the opponent's blade, intending to both divert the blade, should it manage to land, and block it entirely, by causing it to slide into the guard of the blade, just above the hilt. Unlike his opponent, the Guard's eyes never moved from the man's, instead using a skill with peripheral vision to move. Granted, it was a rare skill, but not one which was too difficult to train and use in combat.

That smile didn't move, even as the eyes registered the change in events, as the Guard adjusted himself to absorb the attack in a way to counter. As the man's sword swept across at the raising blade and bit nothing but the air whence it had been, the Guard had paid more attention to the blade than the his opponent in form. His leaning motions during his charging lunge found nothing to give them a counter balance too, and just as gently as if he had been carving through flesh, his body continued into a smooth fall, to a tumble, to a roll, that harmlessly carried him farther up the hill and underneath the blade that rose. Pulling himself down and tucking as soon as it was clear the blade would not find it's stabilizing balance, and thus escaping was of course the clearer way.

As the man rolled in a heap of leather and mettle metal to pass beneath his attack and carried by the weight of his own swings, the man took the opportunity of his foe's swayed balance to rise into a sort of rolling leap, drawing the dagger and aiming it upwards in a single motion as he did so. Aiming it to come up beneath the shoulder and into the armpit to stab and rip as the entire weight of his roll, strike, and leap would carry it to leak the arm matter to the serenity of the grassy sea below.

As the Guard would continue to move to keep up with him, it would be but a simple matter to press on. Not missing a beat and taking a new angle on a forced-to-re-adjust Guardsman, upon which the disruption man set upon in a manner, sheathing the left handed slicing blade and returning to it's previous stance in regard to position and the hand to draw it. All the while, the disruption man kept stepping and moving away from the turning direction of the Guardsman in a diagnol sprint, similar to the first, existing in the form of a dance for a moment before passing with the arming sword at it's corresponding flank in his opponent and sweeping low in a rising crescent beginning above the ankle and at the grass as the disurptor sought and acted to pass by the man's side once more, face and front smile still frozen like a poor mural of his face.

Though he had not expected such a movement, there was still no pause in his movements. The Guard's lunge forward caused his opponent to roll forward, right underneath the blade. While it would be impossible to gather enough force in such a short distance to kill him with his left sword, not to mention his current stance weakening that possibility further, it was entirely possible for him to choose an alternate route. As the man rolled forward, the Guard leaned too far on his ankle, causing his balance to falter, making himself fall to the left, pulling his legs up so they would not get in the way. He had timed the fall so that his opponent would still be mid-roll when he landed, about an arm's length away from him, with the bastard sword's guard coming down to smash into the back of his opponent's head. At the same time, however, he swung his right sword with all his might, aiming directly to the right of the opponent, hoping the man would attempt to roll so that he would go over the Guard's head, so that his blade might cleave him in two. It would also have the side effect of slicing any appendage in its way off, which were none on the Guard's part. However, should his opponent continue with the intended upward lunge, he would not only miss, as the Guard's head was already far below where his shoulder once was, but he would lose an arm as well, due to it being in the Guard's blade's way.

Those constant and hawking eyes moved beyond the simple looking to focus on or target his foe, but rather focused in on the ground beyond the Guardsman himself. A choice made as soon as it was noticed that he was making another counter strike, though in an unexpected way. As the Guardsman would change the motion of his blade from the raise to the fall in line with his body to speed up the movement, it was hardly a bee-line that the disruptor was making here, and he had left himself with all of his defenses in spite of his tucked and tumbling status.

Moving forward to the leaping half of the roll he was making, afforded only a slight adjustment to the action in that the rise need be made quicker and thus with less force. Rather than making his slicing in full, it would need be more of a stopper or cork. Following the same rising action though, the man rose into the weakly incoming blade by pressing his assault with the dagger against the man's body against the blade's one handed and lesser-powered strike via a fall, to use the force of his own rising action to rend the blade off course and thus redirect the fall in the overextended sort of way and leaving both men's other arms free.

All of this acrobatic maneuvering of the man gave a sort of opportunity, presented in the frame of the expectation of his own movement trail with the surprise of the alteration in his opponent's, for which the arming sword and hand wielding it was primed to arc against the falling man's arm with the carry off momentum from his weight leaping up to action. Arcing through the path of the exposed joints without the patches of steel that made up his opponent's armor. Starting through below the elbow and snaking upwards and in the quick jerks of the same species, at sweeping through shoulder and armpit meat once more with a potential to drive further at the neck as the momentum would carry his opponent toward his strikes while twisting his form as for the nature of the falling cleave. For who could stop a fall once they had already lost their footing?

The sudden change in the course of actions was not expected, but not overly surprising, as his enemy was no doubt skilled. So far, he had seen a few certain actions which depicted exactly what he would base this fight around. Even so, the passive face and locked eyes on the Guard's face did not change. As his opponent thrust forward, the Guard straightened his elbow, changing the location of the blade relative to his arm, essentially dodging the cut, though not entirely. Instead of a deep laceration, the blade would most likely slice a bit of the leather, provided the force behind the weapon was enough to keep going. Regardless, the Guard did not want to allow this to happen, so as soon as the knife passed his elbow joint, he thrust it back outward, pushing the blade outward and away from his body.

Indeed, a greatsword could not be manipulated within this distance adequately, nor could it be moved suddenly or unexpectedly like a dagger, not with one arm, especially not with the distance between the blades. However, a part of the body such as the elbow, which held a good amount of strength due to the obvious, would be able to do exactly that. Simply because he wielded two swords did not mean they were his only weapons. Regardless, the Guard continued his movement to shift his elbow towards the wrist grasping the dagger, keeping it pressed downward onto it as he fell. Provided nothing unexpected happened, the wrist would be pinned under the elbow, crushing it once he landed due to sheer weight and surface area. At the same time, however, he guided his sword to be on the man's bicep, one of the blades tilted downward in a diagonal way, towards the wrist. While he would not be able to cut the man normally, doing this should keep him from pulling back or moving too quickly at all, for if the man pulled back, the sword would no doubt slice into his skin, sheering through skin and muscle all the way to the wrist, leaving the man with one working arm.

Even still, the Guard tilted his position in midair, leaning his mass towards the man, slamming his knee down in an attempt to hit the man's own knee, as well as to catch himself. While he might be irritated by the hit, should it land, the Guard would not suffer any true damage due to the leather, light as it was. His opponent might not be so lucky. However, given the lack of power behind the hit, it would likely be no more than a slight annoyance, and not even a hindrance. The Guard simply hoped he was right in his analysis, for he swore an oath, and he would not fail so long as he lived.

The same face, the same life, just carried onwards through instinct and skill picked up through the years. As the man could feel the dagger of his slipping into the roughness and the naturally stopping of momentum leather of the Guard's armor. While the Guard began to drop onto the dagger and attached wrist to try and force his own body against it via a sudden change. The direction of the battle aiming downwards and looking to be something to be fought on the ground itself. Though having already entered the inside range the manipulation of forces need only be changed rather than misdirected or stopped.

While the guard set up his blade against the man's wrist to prevent his backward movement, he instead pushed forward. Pressing deeper into the leather with the dagger, though not able to slice into the body as easily as if just skin were in the way, starting from a place of no momentum, direct cutting would be difficult, turning his wrist all the way back and upward to allow the elbow to pass harmlessly from the wrist and off the much more angular arm and coverings. The pressing forward of the smaller weapon in a diving motion, carefully noting and dealing with the blade behind where his press was coming from. This was accomplished by the use of the longer weapon, while not able to cut into the Guard's arm by way of the directed fall, though still within the inside moved his longer weapon around in a whirling motion against the diagnol and thus more difficult to maintain hold of grip of the sword set to trap his arm. Only supported by a strange movement of the elbow, this clashing, while close to the man's body, would serve as an act to break his arm by way of twisting the elbow far beyond what the joint is naturally capable of should the positioning be maintained to serve as a limiting factor to cut into the man's own armor as he had just done with the dagger, though admittedly awkwardly positioning his own arm in the process.

The pressing forward of the dagger and the full tilt diving motion of the man acting as counter force to misdirect the Guard on the sloping setting leaving him no room to move fully through the air with the ground behind and the man in front. The sloping nature of that hill setting the two were clashing on provided less air with the momentum added in this direction and thus less air to be moved upon and less footing to come down on with the downward striking knee, now reaching that ground earlier than anticipated and with no direction but the knee itself to apply the force of the drop. Altering the catching process of the fall itself, as well as sending the momentum up through the knee as blunt trauma rather than the need to pierce or make bladed effort through armor. While the man turned the dagger and his bent back wrist, the elbow downward both misdirected by the inwardly poised arming sword and the misdirect of the fall into a position of a piercing stab as they fell, the man pushing as they did, and using the ground as a means to allow none of the strike's power or momentum to be lost in the reverberations or movement of The Guard's body.

The Guard was still unchanging in the face of this new problem, knowing there was always a way. His expression had not yet changed, regardless of how strange this was. Still, with each problem came a solution, and with each strength came a weakness. The Guard knew this well, having discovered such a thing at a young age. When the man rose his sword to lock the Guard's arm in place, likely to preform a twisting maneuver in order to break the elbow, the Guard simply committed potential suicide by doing something that he had been told to never do. He let go of his sword. With the weight of the sword gone, the Guard was able to move his arm much quicker than before, though still not as fast as he would have liked. In this action, he permitted himself the chance to let loose by twisting his arm at the shoulder, altering the direction of the dagger just enough for the Guard to pull his arm, or at least the part beneath the elbow, to the side, preventing the breaking, if only momentarily, as his arm was still there, simply positioned towards the left to the point that trying to pin his arm between the two blades was no longer plausible.

A never ending pattern began to emerge, countering and countering. In a leap of faith, the Guard changed his style, realizing how dangerous this man really was. Twisting his waist to the point where the leg he had not intended to knee the enemy with was parallel with the ground, before slamming his leg down to the ground, placing one foot down to stop his fall, but doing nothing to stop his turning momentum. Instead of stopping it, however, the Guard lifted his free arm, and slammed forward with all his strength, aiming towards the eye of his opponent. If nothing else, it would hamper his vision, if not divert his attention. While he could not use his full force in this punch, due to both his positioning and the fact that he was holding his greatsword still, he did pack enough power to do severe damage should it land fully. Of course, he had predicted a redirection involving his other arm, but it would not matter, as that was exactly what he wanted...

While he would have broken his arm, knee, and possibly neck had he not moved, his positioning was currently not good. Standing on one leg for the moment, he would be open to tripping, as well as lunging towards him, especially with his momentum being used for the punch. It was all too likely his opponent would dodge the punch and use the knife to simply slit his throat by momentum. It was equally possible that the enemy would thrust his sword forward even more, having more room to build up momentum now, although that would only be an arm, rather than the fight. All this was possible and more. He knew it, and he knew the risks, but he had little choice now.

The man watched with the same face as the Guard struggled downward in both position and standing. Forced down, missing a sword, forced away from solid footing. The man who's face did not change continued to act. His acts of saving himself left an arm of the man himself unaccounted for in terms of a defensible nature. Of course as the punch now coming for his face was that which took over a great deal of his vision and thus attention. Yet with that motion and a free hand wielding an arming sword and having just nearly broken an arm moved the blade fast as it had less distance to cover and less of a change in direction. Positioning the blade so as to be the interceptor of the punch itself while moving forward to take advantage of the balancing problem of the Guard.

Stepping forward with the arming sword poised to intercept the knuckles of the strike, it left the man free to use the dagger side of his combative ability. Having been redirected just enough to be avoided in terms of stabbing through the Guard, still left it open and incredibly close to the Guard's body, if diverted. The man's directional position swaying so as to pass by on the man's left of the incoming strike. The dagger now playing it's role of rising up from under the man's attack itself, and thus the arm, for which the dagger would raise up at, point first, with a repositioning of the man's wrist as it would be entering the body and becoming a cutting motion after it was that of a stabbing one. The arming sword meanwhile continuing a steady motion and following the body to create a slash at the unbalanced legs of the Guard before him, as the man seemed to dance around with a swift yet graceful singular motion slightly uphill and to the side of the Guard. The slash acting as the opening of the momentum and creating a wide arc of lower sword swinging between he and the Guard provided the Guard was not already cut by the strike. All the while the man kicked the sword from that direction that had been dropped by way of boot underneath the blade and then propelling the steel downhill and away as he performed his cutting to the side.

The flow of battle had changed, a rhythmic style of countering attacks temporarily fluctuated into a very offensive style, even though it was not to last. The change was temporary and very sudden, but not a very skillful change. The Guard was somewhat ashamed of it, but he did not mind it too much, given his opponent was quite skilled. His usual tactics had not worked against him, so a change in pace was necessary, but proved fruitless, not a horrible tactic but one he was unskilled with, so he would go back to what he was best at, for now. Later, he would have to learn to switch styles on the fly like that, it was quite an intriguing skill...

Regardless of the Guard's inner thoughts, his movements were not hindered. No, he pursued a desire to formulate ideas while being in control of his body, though he had yet to perfect it... Intentionally pulling his fist back, his sword swung downward, clashing with the sword intending to slice into his knuckles, the crossguard keeping the blade from sliding into his hand, as well as continuing its intended motion. Meanwhile, his other hand shot forward to block the dagger by rearranging its positioning so that the wrist of the Guard's arm was behind the dagger, keeping the dagger from reaching past the leather due to a mixture of the Guard's strength pushing against the arm thrusting the blade, awkward as his position was, as well as the leather's own durability. Had the thrust been perfect, it would have dug right through the leather and skin, glancing off of the Guard's bone to rip through the muscle, but the Guard's arm slowed its momentum enough to prevent this. At the same time, while his opponent's leg was off the ground, the Guard struck forward with the leg that was still off the ground, kicking forward directly at the back of his enemy's knee, intending to send him to the ground.