The Reunion, One-Shot

[Azeroth]

"I'll get paid for that one way or another soon enough," replied Serlon. He landed nearby, careful and deliberate in standing back up. How much time had passed since he drew the sword? He didn't have much of that left. Time. He spent too much talking. Ah well, it was meant to be his downfall anyways. "I'm sure you're not used to having one of those," he commented. His shorter sword flashed rather flirtingly as its master flipped it again to hold it the right way. Rather senseless, as its master was blind. "It was hard getting that one cut in."

[Maverick]

“Nonsense. You should not think or speak so low of yourself. It does not sit well with me. But yes, you will get paid for it, that much can be said.” Madel flipped once again, this time landing behind the Surface Dweller. And again, his scimitar went for the kneecaps while his rapier thrust upward, towards where the neck and spinal cord met and joined.

[Azeroth]

Serlon twisted, and finding that it was a little late to parry, instead jumped and did a half flip so that he was horizontal in the air. He let the momentum carry him into a fast spin, holding the swords so that they aimed out and made a deadly whirling fan, meant to be more defensive than offensive. After he landed again, he was a little disorientated. Lack of sight did not grant immunity to dizziness, and his haste had prevented him from taking the necessary precautions. "Damnit," he muttered when he couldn't seem to find his center. He backed up to compensate for his loss of balance. A sharp jut in the walls of the cave forced him to stop. Wall? There wasn't supposed to be wall here. With a sharp hiss, Serlon realized his air time had taken him farther from his starting point that he had calculated. Air left no room for miscalculation. That was mistake number one.

Mistake number two: he had talked for a little too long.

It came first as a sudden throb of a headache, but Serlon knew what it was. Too soon! or was it? Perhaps talking had taken longer than he thought. Miscalculation number two. It would be a lie to say that Serlon wasn't bitter when he coughed and felt the warm fluid that rose from his throat trickle from his lips. Irately, he wiped it away with his sleeve and shoved himself off the wall. Then, he felt something missing. His blindfold! Yes, now that his attention was on more focused, he felt the cloth dangling from his shoulder.

"Hn, I reacted a little too slow." Holding both swords in one hand, Serlon took the blindfold off his shoulder and wrapped it around his wrist, using his free hand and his teeth. He was more than a little annoyed when he felt that blindfold moist. It was warm. Madel was quick and had apparently gotten away with a piece of blindfold and a piece of Serlon's skin. Serlon supressed another cough.

[Maverick]

To say that Madel’s face was of slight surprise would be about accurate. He knew that he score a hit with the Elf but nothing so serious as to render blood flowing from the mouth. Not yet, anyway. That happens later on in the game. And the impact with the wall should not have triggered the blood flow as well. Something was up…but he shrugged and dismissed it. In time, he would find out. And maybe even use and exploit that fact to his advantage.

“Perhaps….that could cost you as you know…”

[Azeroth]

Serlon blinked rapidly, attempting to make himself accustomed to his skin not touching any cloth. It felt strange, actually. Since it looked the same to him whether he opened his golden eyes or shut them, he couldn't tell if he was opening or closing them. He only knew that his lashes were moving, and that they were protesting to the comfort of the usual black cloth. Golden eyes. His family hated his golden eyes. Too wild, they said; too much like a predator. It didn't matter anymore; they now glared eternally at nothing in particular.

His head was throbbing again. Madel's voice blurred with the pounding of the blood in his ears for a moment. Then, it all disappeared. The voice was clear and sharp as a blade of ice, and his mind worked without hinder. For now.

"Being slow costs one a piece of flesh and a drop of blood. That is nothing. There are other things that cost more, and have more...longer lasting consequences. But then again, that drop of blood might be life's blood too...so what am I to contradict?" Serlon, finally finding his center, balanced himself with his swords in the attack stance. Then, he took two quick steps toward Madel, and consumed the remaining distance with a foreward leap, the swords held out in front of him in a cross.

[Maverick]

Golden eyes, how fascinating. Believe it or not, heat infrared vision allowed you to see colors of certain things as well. That is if only you knew what to look for and paid attention to slight details.

"Oh? And pray tell, what could be more important than life blood?" Honestly, this Elf's priorities were a bit odd. Or was it him? Ah well, either way it did not matter. Madel intercepted the attack, his own two blades in a cross formation as well. He forced his blades between where Serlon's blades connected and pushed outward. In this position it was hard to make any sudden attack as the stance was a bit awkward. Not to mention, it put you at a very close proximity with your opponent. Almost to the point of invading personal space and claustrophobia. Almost.

Nevertheless, he knew what he was doing and it served him well.

[Azeroth]

"It depends on what you consider more important than life," answered Serlon. His blades clashed with something, presumably Madel's swords. A slight wave of heat told Serlon that the drow was within close proximity. Judging by the strength of the swords pushing on his own...it was quite close. Serlon cursed mentally. He needed to finish this quick, but this position prevented him from making any decisive moves. He tried taking a step back to give himself more room, but that didn't quite work. He took another. Three more steps behind him before he'd be backed against the wall.

[Maverick]

"Mmmm....I wouldn't think anything was more important than life really. I mean, you need life to be able to do things and enjoy them. So without life, there is no purpose in anything. That is just how I think anyway."

He noticed the small gap between the Surface Dweller and the solid stone. He increased his force slightly, with all the intent of disarming his rival. "Don't you think so?"

[Azeroth]

"Haven't you heard? Elves value life above all else." Serlon couldn't help but disagree with himself. It wasn't entirely true, but it fit the public's view of Elves. His parents believed in it...somewhat. They always were against his joining the Society. Why join a profession to kill? Why accept as duty the greatest sin against life? "We only take life when it's necessary. The problem is...some of them...some of us have problems discerning the line between necessary and unnecessary."

Serlon felt the pressure on his swords increase. Normally, such a sign would cause him to do the same; there WAS wall behind him, after all. However, the first signs that he was tarrying too long had already appeared. It has been a long time since the last time a fight had taken him to this point, and he was a bit skittish about it. A hasty--and unwise-- decision bid him take another step back. He needed the room to attack. He needed to end it as quickly as possible. Two more steps.

[Maverick]

"Really? Could have fooled me. Or maybe I was hanging out with the wrong group of Elves?" He chuckled darkly, something akin to rich sin. "Oh? Do tell..."

Slipping his rapier from the fray, he once again aimed for the face. That was his favorite place to attack, after the kneecaps of course. Madel increased the pressure on his scimitar even more, only one blade working that line of defense now.

[Azeroth]

"Ask me not their values; I've been long separated from them and their ideals."

Serlon was almost relieved when he felt the pressure lessen. He almost started to push back hard, before he remember something else. There was no time to judge where Madel was aiming, so he took the easier way out and pushed himself away from the drow. That got him away from the attack. That also got him against the wall.

How many times did his master tell him not to get backed against a wall...

Well, not that that many; he didn't do it very often.

It was worth it to get away from that attack, Serlon told himself. However, it wasn't as easy as it sounded. The wall was the place where air stops, and the winds change direction. It made judging really hard using air currents alone. Madel, by default, made very little sound.

Giving a slight cough, Serlon edged towards the side, aiming to part with the wall from his opponent's side. A sharp but passing pain lanced through his chest, reminding him that his time was limited, and that he's using too much of it. I'm trying, I'm trying, he muttered mentally. But it's annoying when you have a time limit and your opponent doesn't...

[Maverick]

Madel watched as Serlon’s heated outline was seemingly backed up against something and stopped. Of course, the wall had the same temperature as the floor. There was no way that he knew if the other was really against the wall or if he just decided to stop in place.

Sharp eyes found a needle on that floor, obviously one of the previously abandoned ones. In a few quick motions, he scooped it up and threw it in the direction of the Surface Dweller. He did not expect to hit, just wanted to see how much space he had left. It is crucial if you wanted to judge your next move carefully and precisely.

[Azeroth]

The needle hit the wall a hair's width away from Serlon's hand. It startled him, as he hadn't sensed it coming; it just was too small. The elf reminded himself not to overlook this weakness. It was easy to forget that, sometimes.

He parted with the wall, running at an angle to Madel. In the last couple steps before he would run past, he swerved and rushed at the at the drow, moving both his swords to his left. As he approached, the target, he let his first blade fly, a hard and straightforward slash at Madel's neck. The second one waited its turn.

[Maverick]

Well now, the distance wasn't too bad...He saw Serlon coming, saw the blade aiming towards his neck and his legs seemed to collapse under him. There was still the other to blade to worry about but oh well. His own two blades were outward when he ducked. Now, they slashed inwards in a blur, once again aiming for the lower half of the body.

[Azeroth]

Quickly, Serlon debated whether he should take the hit and exchange blows. He decided against it and used his second blade to block instead. Nimbly, he leapt away after the swords glanced past. The landing ended with a wave of nausea that almost unbalanced him, but not yet. His judgement now clouded by haste, Serlon turned and went for Madel again.

Right before he reached the drow, a sudden but not unexpected fit of coughing brought him down to one knee. A considerable amount of blood flew to make crimson flowers on the ground. Not that he could see them.

Tsk tsk tsk. Time limit, Serlon. How could you have been so careless...