((Hey dude, no need to edit your last post, I know you're just doing some pre-battle badassery XD. However, when we actually start fighting-which is to say, now-please make sure to exaggarate the difference between "I'm aiming for" and " I hit". You know I won't throw a fit or anything, but a lot of other fighters will, and even I'll ask you to edit. Trust me, I'm pretty good at giving people the hits when they are due; just ask Tim. If you deserve the win, I'll give it to you no problem. I hope you're the same way.And thanks, Tim, for reffing xD)).
Caleth attack was parried, as planned. The next thing he knew, the enemy's spear was inches away from his head. He pulled away, in case the move was supposed to be fatal. "Next time you'll lose it," said the Shard-wielder in a tone of stern respect. Caleth backed up a couple of steps, creating distance between Rafien and himself. "Oho," he said jovially, "we have ourselves a talker. Alright, I'll admit, that spear move wasn't bad." Caleth sheathed Mercy, and drew his rapier from its sheath on his side. Spears were dreadfully difficult to use if you could get in close enough; the problem was doing just that. Caleth needed to be nimble, he needed to dance. And for this, his rapier was the blade of choice. He assumed the fencer's stance, right side turned towards Rafe, with his blade extended (but not completely) towards his opponents chest, with his right foot in front and his left foot perpendicular behind it. "Alright, talker," he said, suddenly serious, "show me how you dance."
Proprieties, of a sort. Or rather, lack thereof.