As per my need of a refreshment course, I've contacted my teacher, Skallagrim about a match. He accepted, of course, and this is the result.

The rules are:

T1 Eden Era
I suppose a five or seven day post time, depends on the wants and needs of Skallagrim
We know the rest, as they are generally the same whenever we spar.

If Skallagrim would be so kind as to give me pointers and such, I'd be much obliged.

The combatants are:

Kolskegg - Skallagrim
The Warrior - Rilla

(I should really learn how to use the link posting thing here. If Skallagrim would be so kind)

If Skallagrim is going to stance first, then I'll leave the battleground decision to him.

If me, I'll decide in the post following this one.

Rilla, If you would do the honors and set the stage and stance first I shall respond this evening as I have errands to run that I simply cannot put off (The wife and I are going to be running around, 'nuff said)

One.
Two.
Three.
Four.
Five.

The months moved slow as they crept across the reality that he lived in. Liaison had been displaced for so long that Alphonse had nearly given up on his quest, until, the man showed up in the cave he had taken refuge in only months ago. Coupled with the fact that the Way of the Warrior had decided to revamp itself for the first time in several years, bringing in a new batch of ruthless challengers. His mind had, forever, imprinted the memory of each and every kill he made in the inaugural tournament, where he won. Thereafter, he was named the Warrior, a title he wore, not with pride, but shame. It had cost him his humanity, his family, and slowly, his life. It had taken a century, after finding a way to extend his life past the boundaries of age, to regain what humanity he could scrap together, but he could not bring back the family he had driven away, and the lives they had lost. These things bugged him, to the very day that he lived now, for they were things he could never hope to gather again, by might or magic.

Dressed in his normal attire, a brick red and gold kimono, he walked down a lonesome forest path. A lake, he had come to know as the Lake of Wode stood off to the east; it was said the small stream he walked near, connected the Lake to a larger body of water somewhere, miles off over the horizon. Alphonse was sure one with masterful scent could smell the fresh salt tinge in the lapping waves of the ocean. Studies of the place, in the town ten or so miles back, recounted a battle here; between a fire user, Worren, and a man named Rydderch. It was said the fire user had perished and the other had simply left the land afterwards; a spiritual battle had played out over the lake afterwards, right above the body of the downed man.

”Please let the spirits that rest here be, not vengeful, but peaceful.”

He whispered against the small breeze that kissed his cheek. Perhaps he would get to see the vivid battle of the mongoose and the snake, enemies to the end. They reminded him so much of himself and Liaison, whereas he was the snake that could not fell the mongoose with the bite of his steel. Tearing the thought from his mind, he continued along the path, dirt kicking up and soiling the pure white socks he had on. The sound of animals alerted him to their presence, scurrying along as the sun seemed ready to fall over the horizon and allow the moon its chance to take center stage. If so, then he would rest on the edges of the lake, and watch for the battle of enemies.

Alphonse and Azio, his Katana and Wakizashi set, swayed gently with each step he took. Bathed in the blood of his fallen sons, they had become the only family he knew. They were light in his hands, almost like a blade of grass in his palm; perhaps paying homage to the fact that when he held his kids, there was no weight, only love. People that survived encounters with him would go on to state that he held and wielded this blades like a father would a son, making hard blows, only when necessary. While they were not alive, it has been noted, he treats them as though they were, given his style and the inconsistency of using blows that might end a fight, but damage his blades -- unless, they had been tempermental. His ability to manipulate Chi had also gone noted, but unused in the past month or so - in fact, the last usage had been last month at the Festival of Lights.

May we all seek, that which we hunt, he thought, pushing through thick branches and ticklish leaves.

An hour later, the sun had began its marvelous dip -- the sky becoming a mural of colors blending together slowly to make the darkness of night. Stars had yet to appear, but as the night grew, so would the presence of stars become known. His frame turned and he headed down a less beaten path, headed towards the Lake of Wode, which was minute s away from him.

Soon he found himself sitting on a branch, watching the lake, awaiting the emergence of the spectacle. He pushed up his conical hat and intently watched the lake.

A broad smile spread across his face. Long hair billowed under the gentle breeze coming off the lake. The gentle rustle of chain, the dull thump of the large shield as it bounced on the brawny back. The thud of the sheathed sword and the large black bag on the hips of the lanky warrior. Kolskegg inhaled deeply, the odors of the wode migling with the wash from the lake inxtocated him.

Pausing as the blending of the sky, a haunting swirls of colors. Pinks, oranges, yellows all giving way to the falling dark. The majestic trapestry of night that shroud the earth while she slept. A deep laught erupted from him, booming, it echoed in the tranquil solitude.

“Aye! I have come to see the glorious sights you have blessed upon me All-Father!” He shouted as he saw the first twinklings of stars emerging from the blue-black that chased away the day. Running toward the lake the man lept atop a large stump, his arms flung outward on either side to balance his mass. Throwing his head back he peered up, across the encroaching dark raced streaking lights, his smile beamed almost as brightly.

Another booming laugh erupted from the man as he stepped down, kneeling and touched the ground. The feel of the loam, the damp rocks and a pine cone, all brought immense pleasure to him. It reminded him of the joy of the middle realm. The joy of life.

“Blessed All-Father! Odin One-Eye! I have come as you bid. I have come to the sacred wode.” His hand tapped the pine-cone and with a mighty heave tossed it, nay skipped it across the lake. Rising Kolskegg spun around, he had known of this place. Heard songs sung in the great halls of this magical place, and in all his travels had never found it until the gray wanderer bid he follow a little used path through the mountains.

The man peered to the heavens again, then quickly his eyes are drawn to the lake. Shimmering lights, rose and danced with subtle movements along the surface of the blackening water. Blinking once then a smile spread as he watched the etheral beauty of the lights swirl and dart around.

“Truly you have graced me All-Father!” He shouted again, his booming voice carrying across the vale, swallowed in the trees and lost to the world. Lake of the Wode, a place of great magics. It was where the gods judged a man by his actions and not his words. Here in this place the true measure of a man or woman could be seen. Where the soul is laid bare and the sins washed away.

Inhaling deeply Kolskegg closed his eyes and let his senses expand outward. The soft lapping of water along the shore, the fresh earthy smell of the ground beneath him, the soft subtle breeze that raced around him and vanished. Snapping open his eyes he focused on the lights ahead of him, his voice calm, “I am here...”

The silence had been so complete, so utterly unbroken, that Alphonse slipped into a light sleep. The sound of the lapping shore had become his lullaby, the scampering animals had become an instrumental. 'Perhaps they would show later,' was what he determined moments before he fell into his slumber; his hands crossed over his chest. This was dangerous, he knew, but by the time anyone would approach, he’d surely hear them, right?

And hear them, he did.

At first it was nothing but the thud of several things, none of which could particularly be distinguished from the dream that Alphonse had become immersed in. But then there were words, words that were shouted to the high heavens by a man who knew no silence.

'Aye! I have come to see the glorious sights you have blessed upon me All-Father!'

That voice had caused him to stir, the barrier between his dreams and reality straining to keep them from merging. Then there came the laugh, whomever was close had a remarkably deep voice; he’d heard some like it before, often from Vikings, whose boisterous nature was well-known. Could one have come here? Why so far from the seas and oceans, pillaging villages and the like. Had this one, if indeed Viking, come to pillage the village he so freshly left?

'Blessed All-Father,' yes, indeed, the man had to be Viking to speak of an All-Father, particularly Odin. Alphonse brought himself to an alert state, his eyes scanning the ground beneath him to find the culprit of this night. It hadn’t taken long for him to spot the man whose voice invaded his dreams; at least it wasn’t Liaison.

The skipping of a pinecone had been what brought Alphonse’s sight to the man, but the way he seemed to respect this land and the ‘All-Father’ had been what kept him interested. Instead of leaving his perch, he waited for the man to finish his monologue by the Lake, before he started to chime in and let his presence be known.

'I am here…'

"But truly, you are not alone are you, Viking?" Alphonse was not referring to any other Viking that may inhabit the land, though he was sure some had to be around somewhere, instead, he was referring to himself. "I stand on the edges of the Lake of Wode, not to far off from yourself. Tell me, Viking, did the All-father tell you of the Mongoose and Cobra?" There was no disrespect in his voice, in fact, it was the tone of a man simply making conversation. He knew, from previous experience with Vikings, his natural strength was more than likely outclassed by the man below.

A quick overview of the man saw a chain and shield, a sword and black bag; all were common aside from the black bag. Lore had it that some Vikings were skilled in some type of magic and those that were, were called Gothi. "Excuse me," he started, his right hand subtly grasping the hilt of Azio, "are you a Viking Gothi?" Warrior asked with a tilt of his head. If the man did not attack, he would have no reason to depart from his tree; he would ask the man, should he remain non-hostile, if he would keep it down, as he was expecting the great Spiritual Battle that was said to take place here.

However, if the man did seek to subdue Alphonse, appropriate actions would be doled out, as though the man were Liaison himself.

An answer, he heard it carry, clearly and distinct. A voice. Was it Odin? No, not the All-Father... this was the voice of a man. Turning he let his ears be his guide. What had the man said, close by....Mongoose and Cobra?

“Aye I have heard of the eternal fight betwixt the two creatures. Have I see them? Nay verily I have not seen such animals in all my travels.” Kolskegg stepped forward and to his left, a gleaming smile upon his face. That is he held a smile until the man asked if he was Gothi.

Smile slowly becoming a frown, “Aye voice, I am Gothi. Some call me wizard, others priest. My friends and foes call me Kolskegg.” Shrugging his shoulders as he spoke the sheild shifted slightly as it did so the cord that secured it around his torso was loosened. A precaution to be sure, one never knew if a chance meeting could become violent or two men might simply exchange tales over a fire before parting ways to walk their own paths in life.

“Come voice, come from the shadows and let us stand as men. Why do you come to this magical place? Perhaps you are a test for me? Has the All-Father sent you here? Or from your questions, am I a test for you? You have come here to measure yourself?”

Kolskegg moved again, feet crossing over with deftness surprising for a man of his size. Subtle movements that a trained eye could tell set the warrior into position to defend himself from a variety of directions. Other than that, he stood easily his right hand loose at his side, the left slightly crooked at the elbow, ready to receive the sheild. To the casual observer it seemed that the Viking was merely asking questions of an unseen voice. A trained warrior could appreicate the moves for they were done with such practiced ease, they appeared naught but merely a man standing around.

Narrowing his eyes slightly, losing his focus upon a tree, allowing his peripheral vision the fore so it may detect movement. It was how predators used their vision, detect movement then focused upon to get a clear picture of the cause of that movement. And like a great wolf, once that movement, no matter how subtle, registered Kolskegg would then focus upon it. A trick perhaps, but one that allowed a man to see attacks much more quickly than merely focusing on a solitary object.

The Gothi’s attention had been captured by the words of a man the Viking could not see.

’Aye I have heard of the eternal fight betwixt the two creatures. Have I see them? Nay verily I have not seen such animals in all my travels.’

The man made a subtle movement, one any other person would have took as a shift in weight to get more comfortable. To Alphonse, this was more than that. The Viking was obviously as skilled as any other of his clan, any move he made from here on out would be for the benefit of protecting his person under all circumstances. When asked if he was a Gothi, the man’s demeanor seemed to change slightly.

Warrior looked on intently, sure that the tension he now felt would keep the spirits at bay. A slight breeze danced and brushed his long crimson scarf into a small dance in the wind, east to west. The grip he held on Alphonse remained loose for now, a position that allowed him to either grab or release it as the situation provided. His other hand remained in his lap, prepared for an unarmed defense, for it would not make it to Azio in time.

’Come voice, come from the shadows and let us stand as men. Why do you come to this magical place? Perhaps you are a test for me? Has the All-Father sent you here? Or from your questions, am I a test for you? You have come here to measure yourself?’

The Viking continued to move, preparing himself furthermore for a threat he seemed to have no way of detecting. Did he know he was close to him, did he know his eyes were nearly directly on him. Alphonse had learned over the years to make note of all things a person would do, his mind cataloged them into specific sections. This particularly man used highly subtle techniques, ones that even a seasoned fighter would pass over as general nuisances of a person talking to a stranger. Alphonse nearly passed them over, himself, until he caught the positioning of his arm. His shield would be grasped in a hurry if any attack were to seek to take his life.

”I’ve come here for the very thing I asked you about; the Mongoose and Cobra. Whether or not we are tests for each other remains to be seen, but by your actions, you seem prepared for either event.” A laundry list of subtle movements had been completed by Alphonse, but the most prominent was the increased grip he held on Alphonse. Adjusting himself swiftly, he gained a position that would allow him to move swiftly in either direction.

”If indeed we are to challenge each other, I offer you the first step, Gothi,” Warrior said, aware that his position would likely be compromised now. The Chi within him began to swirl, preparing for either attack or defense, depending on the state of his opponents next movement, if any.

If fortunate, this would end quickly and that which he sought would come forth to entertain him before he fell asleep once more.

Movement, swift, unmistakable movement in the trees. With a side step once that movement was detected the brawny man lept to his left. While in the air the shield flowed over the shoulder and around so that the left forearm slipped into the staps while the hand grasped the wood handle easily.

As his booted feet landed on the soft earth, sinew and muscle contracted, knees buckled allowing Kolskegg to collapse so he hunched behind the shield which covered nearly all of his body. His legs coiled ready to react if needed. His eyes focusing on the man that had just revealed himself, not only his movement, verily his words also gave hint to his being.

”I’ve come here for the very thing I asked you about; the Mongoose and Cobra. Whether or not we are tests for each other remains to be seen, but by your actions, you seem prepared for either event...”

”If indeed we are to challenge each other, I offer you the first step, Gothi,”

A bright smile flashed in the gloom as Kolskegg laughed good naturedly, “What is life without a test to prove one worthy of such a gift?” Keeping his eyes on the shadow that had moved, the Gothi tapped the black bag on his hip. With a deft move the bag slipped open.

“Tell me voice, will you do me the honor of letting me know at least whom I face?”
Even as the last syllable passed his lips an ancient prayer is silently uttered.

"Great Aesir, Mighty Vanir,
Gods of eternal power,
Fulfill my greatest needs, O glorious ones.
Teach me the magic I need.
Give me a glimpse of your deep wisdom..
Mighty Aesir, the immortals of Asgard.
Ancient Vanir, protectors of Yggdrasil
You who are the shape shifters, the slayers, the independent ones.
Give me the strength in magic I need."

A soft wave of energy raced through his body. His finger tips and toes tingled as the energy arced around his body. A flash of silver-blue light, sparkled in his eyes a moment. Kolskegg was in the Vey. The Vey linked him to the magical energies of Asgard and Yggdrasil.

Again a booming laugh erupted from him, amplified by the Vey, it echoed as if the thunderer had struck a mountain with Mjølner. “By Odin's eye, let us then have a contest of arms. Let us test our strength here at the Lake of the Wode!”

Amusement flashed through the eyes of the man as the Viking left his feet and moved to the left. In the same motion, he moved his shield from his back to his front. He was well protected from physical attacks aimed at the front of his person -- but that would not last forever.

Hunkered down behind the shield, the man was not nearly completely covered from Alphonse, something the swordsman would have to get around if he was to test his mettle against the Gothi. What was he doing behind there? This could probably end up bad for Warrior if the man was left to his own devices, especially with that black bag at his side. If he was, indeed, a Gothi, then the bag would more likely hold the source of his spell casting.

”What is life without a test to prove one worthy of such a gift?”

“Life lost all meaning when Liaison was allowed to live,” Alphonse said curtly, his grip on the hilt of Alphonse tightening to the point where his knuckles gained a soft red hue.

”Tell me voice, will you do me the honor of letting me know at least whom I face?”

Honor. It was one of the cornerstones in Viking battles. The name of the opponent, in one on one combat, was an important thing to note. For a moment, Alphonse thought about revealing the truth of his name, but instead settled on the moniker he had gained after the first Way of the Warrior tournament.

”My name is Warrior, and yours, Viking Gothi?” He asked from his position, pulling his legs closer to his body, in order to execute a quick stand if needed. More of Alphonse was retrieved from its sheathe, the sharp metal gleaming slightly in the light. The Chi within him continued to swirl, with just a little more fervor. Alphonse, prepared himself for a swift getaway from his tree; his eyes locked unto those of the Viking Warrior before him.

"By Odin's eye, let us then have a contest of arms. Let us test our strength here at the Lake of the Wode."

The man's voice resounded like thunder, Alphonse's body slipped into a state of bliss, akin to when he entered the final round of Way of the Warrior. Perhaps this would end well for him as that venture did. "Yes, my friend, let us test our strength."

Warrior? The man's name is Warrior. How fitting. A quick grin flashed from the man as the two locked eyes, "I am Kolskegg, son of Hrolleif." A sudden movement as his right hand shot into the bag and then out again as Kolskegg tossed the rune stones into the air. As they did so Kolskegg thought, “Tell me of my foe, tell me what I cannot see.”

Raidho- Travel, both in physical terms and those of lifestyle direction. A journey, vacation, relocation, evolution, change of place or setting. Seeing a larger perspective. Seeing the right move for you to make and deciding upon it. Personal rhythm, world rhythm, dance of life. Spiritual or material goals may be attained. Elements- Air

Isa-The Ice Rune, represents stagnation and a passionless existence. A challenge or frustration. Psychological blocks to thought or activity, including grievances. Standstill, or a time to turn inward and wait for what is to come, or to seek clarity. This rune reinforces runes around it. Elements-Ice

Thurisaz- Reversed or Merkstave: Danger, defenselessness, compulsion, betrayal, dullness. Evil, malice, hatred, torment, spite, lies. A bad man or woman. Rape? Often represents your inability to come to terms with repressed issues. It is a warning that if you do not purge past demons they may return to harm you. This Rune is also indicative of a time when you should not act on impulse. Elements-Fire

Each rune flared and flashed brightly in the darkness casting a hue of reddish-orange that illuminated the area. As each one flickered and flared the symbol rising, visible for a second before vanishing.

This warrior, he was seeking something. Something that lingered and haunted him, something from his past plagued him and it appeared he was seeking a way to defeat that daemon. Reaching out with the vey, Kolskegg harnnessed the energies of the stones; air and fire, creating a dazzling light that filled the area in such a bright light that it was as if the sun itself had descended onto the lake. It all happened at the speed of thought.

Perhaps the warrior had expected something from the Gothi, perhaps he was ready for an attack. Defenses ready to ward off a blow, even magic. But a light that devoured the shadows? A light so bright that the sun would be jealous of such a glow.

Now the light would only last a few seconds, but that was all Kolskegg needed. He was moving, circling to his right. After all he had taken two steps to his left, a normal man would assume that he would continue that way.

No, the Gothi was seasoned and moved in the opposite direction. The shield held in front of him, his right hand hovering near the bag, between it and the hilt of the sword. What ever haunted this man he faced could be used against him, if he could find out what it was.

‘I am Kolskegg, son of Hrolleif,’

Hrolleif? He had met him before!

The sequence of actions that took place next were nothing short of a amazing. As the man reached into his black bag, Alphonse rocketed from his position. The end of the tree came quickly, as the darkness became illuminated with a reddish-orange hue. Symbols took to the air, just as Alphonse took to the air. His destination had become unseeable in favor of the magic that had been cast. It was indeed bright and difficult for Warrior to gain his bearing mid-air, but that did not stop him from sensing his opponent.

When he finally touched the ground, after what seemed like eons, his body had immediately crouched low. He, from this position, was protected from any high attacks, and had a good defensive positioning from mid-level attacks as well. Whoever this Gothi was, had been trained well in magic and might, for he had reversed his own movements in presence of the blinding light.

Unsheathing, completely, his Katana, he braced himself for an attack that would not come. The light had remained for a few seconds, but it had been enough for his foe to displace himself far enough from his original position. As slowly sight had become an option, he locked on to the shielded man. That would become a problem if Warrior decided to launch any offensive towards his front, or would it.

His sword slashed outward, a weak blast of chi cutting through the air and towards the strifing man and his large shield. He had met a man before, named Kei’taro, who had the ability to charge his mana and unleash other attacks without it effecting his charge. It had taken him well over a year to learn this as well, but he managed to do it with his body and swords. However, he had to give up the ability to gain a charge for a moment, as he executed this attack.

The attack wouldn’t do much in way of push damage, or any type of damage at all, unless it was a hit. He predicted that it would not be and braced himself for retaliation, setting himself back a couple of steps and settling into a small strife to match that of his opponent. They moved in roughly the same direction, circling the center of the field. If this kept up, Alphonse would be back near his tree. For now, however, he had to worry about dispatching the Viking before he dispatched him first.

His free hand remained as such, positioned to take the Katana or withdraw the Wakazashi, Azio, if need be. If he could get the man to draw his sword, then he would be safe from the magics of the man, without needing to use his disruption style of chi manipulation.

The man had drawn a weapon, a sword of some length but slim, unlike the war sword that hung on the hip of the Viking. The blade glinted and glowed eerily in the fading glow of his light spell. Kolskegg narrowed his eyes at the man, crouching low in the loam. His face stoic as he waited for the next move, a move that came as swiftly and suddenly.

The sword swung in a wide, graceful arc, slicing the air with such subtle precision that it took a full quarter of a second before the Gothi realized what was occurring. Something, perhaps magic, perhaps not rippled through the air at him. Shifting the shield slightly, angling it so that the mystic blow, what ever it was would cascade and bounce along the surface of the weapon.

Bracing himself, Kolskegg was surprised at the impact that glanced off the presented surface. Even offsetting the energy away in a deflected course it jarred him, to the point where he felt it along his forearm. The blow was enough, even at the angle staggered him and forced the Viking to adjust his footing so as to not fall on his ass. However he still dropped to a knee.

A surprise then, the smaller man was a worthy foe, one that the Skalds would note and sing the praises of this fight. After all a similar fight, where Rhydderch the Shining One had faced another man from the far eastern lands here at the Wode. Perhaps that was the lure of the Wode, a place where warriors of other lands were drawn. It would be something the Gothi would look into later, if he survived.

Rising swiftly, Kolskegg glanced over the lip of the shield and smiled, “By the hammer of Thor, you've life in you lad. Let us then bring glory upon this land!” bending his knees slightly and allowed the shield to shift a touch, exposing some of his form. With a quick jab he shoved his hand into the bag and drew forth three more runes that blazed within his hand. The energy swirling and oozing through clenched fingers. From a distance it would appear as if an angry iron were being held.

“Runes of Fate, I call you to provide my need...”

Gebo-Gifts, both in the sense of sacrifice and of generosity, indicating balance. All matters in relation to exchanges, including contracts, personal relationships and partnerships. Elements- Air

Dagaz- Breakthrough, awakening, awareness. Daylight clarity as opposed to nighttime uncertainty. A time to plan or embark upon an enterprise. The power of change directed by your own will, transformation. Hope/happiness, the ideal. Security and certainty. Growth and release. Balance point, the place where opposites meet. Elements-Fire and Air

Berkano-Birth, general fertility, both mental and physical and personal growth, liberation. Regenerative power and light of spring, renewal, promise of new beginnings, new growth. Arousal of desire. A love affair or new birth. The prospering of an enterprise or venture. Elements-Earth

None of the runes were Merkstave, but Kolskegg was unaware of that, in fact he had no idea of what he had cast, merely holding them in his hand as he continued his movements, warily circling his opponent. The way the smaller man continued to hold his weapon gave some indication that he was more comfortable with melee combat, however it seemed he were capable of using his weapon to dispense mystic powers, enough so that the Gothi eyed the blade to see if there were runes or marking son it that bespoke of a magical nature.

What ever man he faced he was certainly a dangerous one, and that welled joy in the Viking, indeed the Gods had brought him to the Wode for a reason, and he had found it.

From behind the protection of his blade, he watched as his attack found its mark. Slamming against the large shield of the Gothi, the chi blast would knock against the shield for a non-lethal effect. This was an attempt to bring into account the integrity of the shield the man he held, and if it could withstand minor blows, a clear indicator of the shield defensive prowess.

BAM!

He heard it when it hit and his eyes immediately danced around to view the effect. Mid-strife, the man had been forced to one knee, despite having a hefty shield to protect him from the entirety of the blast. This was the tell-tale sign he was looking for. The shield, while able to protect him, was still weak enough to not contain the after-effects.

Alphonse had heard tales of someone perishing here, ever lost in the Lake of Wode, by a shot of lightning. This man, however, seemed much more dangerous than the other man could have been.

'By the Hammer of Thor, you’ve life in you lad. Let us then bring glory upon this land!’

Glory. Another thing the Viking clans loved. As the men circled each other, preparing for the next sequence of actions, Alphonse let the energies within him swirl once more. Soon he would be able to disrupt all cast magic within a pre-determined vicinity. How would the man cast his runes now? But first, he had to survive until that hellish time came.

The waves of the lake lapped at the edges of the shore, neither man directly facing it or facing away from it. The sweet scent was welcome on this night of combat, yet one could not help but feel something was off; something was off in the far distance, watching, waiting, hoping, that they could approach and allow the nightly dance of the Cobra and Mongoose.

Still the men stalked each other like the animals did when hunted, wary of the predator that was across from them. For Alphonse, Kolskegg was his predator, and he was sure in reverse, he was Kolskegg’s. One of them would not make it out of here with the pristine shape they entered. Alphonse twisted the blade out of habit, exposing his chest for mere moments before it was protected again.

Muscles tensed and time seemed to stretch indefinitely as the man’s back faced the Wode. Things would heat up soon, as his opponent would likely soon discover that Alphonse’s movements were not completely circle. They were more spiraled, starting from wide to small, closing in on the man in order to make effective use of his ability.

“Viking! We shall indeed bring glory on this path, and your father shall be proud of your exploits, when I give him word of your fall.”

Warrior caught sight of the magic swirling through the clenched fingers of the Gothi, perhaps magic he would make use of in later rounds. His grasp on Alphonse Jr. tightened, the man had went back to his mythical black bag. He would need to combat the wealth of magic within if he wanted to cut off the man’s inclination for it. If only he could get him to draw his blade and wield his shield at the same time.

His body was braced for what was to come, whether it require him on the offensive or defensive. His free hand still swam near enough to Azio to provide a quick cut or meager defense if needed. Only a few more moments and all would be set.

“Viking! We shall indeed bring glory on this path, and your father shall be proud of your exploits, when I give him word of your fall.”

Boastful this man named Warrior. The grin expanded even further on the visage of the Northman. His hand coursed with power as the energies within the runes pulsated. His deep-set eyes flickered as he watched Warrior. Crouching he hunched his shoulders so that his eyes and forehead rose above the lip of his weapon.

In a swift motion he rose and darted to his left in a dead sprint after covering about 10 yards, 30 feet, Kolskegg dropped on his right forearm and shoulder, rolling up. The shield slammed into the loam, propelling him upward so that he would be facing back towards Warrior, the shield before him, his right hand pulled back and cocked, ready to hurl the runes outward in an underhand throw.

Even if Warrior were fast the direction and sudden action of rolling and reversing so he faced back towards him would not leave him in a bad position, even if Warrior had followed him, the thick shield would provide protection to any assault. And the pulsating, glowing runes would provide offense when the time came.

Gothi by their nature preferred to use their magics even when the edge of a weapon would suffice, it always was to their advantage to use the power of the runes before wading in to finish off an opponent. This Warrior, his desire to engage in hand to hand gave Kolskegg pause, he was not a stupid man, and his opponent carried two blades. Warrior probably wanted to engage in blades because he believed he had some advantage over the Gothi.

Warrior had proven he had some form of magical ability, this fact alone made Kolskegg wary. Thus far both had shown some minor magic, nothing too terrible yet. But the man held his sword the way the Gothi held his shield. A comfort, a weapon to be used and employed with precision in conjunction with their other abilities.

Words were of no more worth, the time for diplomacy and mocking were over, and the battle was set to begin. Like animals they circled each other, each waiting for the first move to be made, the first strike to be cast, the first blood to be drawn. It was this moment in battle, the calm before the storm, that Warrior had become accustomed too.

Still spiraling towards his opponent, he braced himself as the man dipped low behind his shield; knowing full well he had a wealth of magic he could use to torment the dual bladed warrior.

His steps were slow, deliberate as he sought a weaker spot in the Viking’s shielding, if one would be found. Already he had proven he could drop the man to a knee, but that was not enough. He needed to break completely through that monstrosity of a defense. Something was off, however, the calm before the storm was being disturbed. What was going on?

Boom.

The man was off - moving to his left, at a sprint; Alphonse wasted no time and followed swiftly after the man, cutting through the center and aiming to cut the man, off. Seeing the Gothi use his shield to push himself up and leave him facing his opponent, hand cocked back with runes in place, Warrior did what he had to do. He left the ground and came towards the man with Alphonse Jr. coming down in a brutal fashion; surely it would be blocked, but that was his intention.

As he floated through the air, he released his magic - his disruptive chi permeated the air and land, restricting and forbidding any magic within a twenty foot radius in any direction. Hopefully this would leave him with a good bit of no-magic time, for him to work on the Gothi. However, every turn, the effects would decrease by five feet, and any sufficiently prepped attack would find themselves weakened, but not stopped. Banking on this, he had several seconds or minutes to attack the man, providing he didn’t have anything with five preps behind it.

Holding for post.