Upon Entrance, She Waits

(O.O.C - This match is Turn Based, Anyone is free to challenge her however, I prohibit any god-modding i.e no rehealing, no flying about in the air and shiz >_>, A minimum of 400 words is required for each turn. If you wish to join..Post, or well, If you merely wish to observe, add yourself into the roleplay ^_^)

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The sounds of cries and cheers filled the air, soon followed by the clashing of blades and the jeers of opponents. The day wind remained still for this moment, as if waiting for the battles to end before it unleashed it's gusts of fury upon the Arena.

The slight clanging of boots in the distance soon became more clear as her form moved ominuously, silently across the district. She was a perculiar being, cobalt blue hair gleamed and shimmered in the day's light. Buckles of her dusty black knee length boots seemed to gleam as if when polished skillfully.

She wore tight trousers, black if one was to observe her form more clearly. They stuck as if clinging to her legs as she walked. Although her lower torso had such an appearence it seemed that she could and would move swiftly and silently if need be, and that her trousers would allow her to do so.

Upon her higher torso she wore a rugged dark shirt that stuck out at certain points giving her structure a look of untidyness and upon her back a large broaded blade stretched up, the tsuba itself seeming to be wrapped in bandages, these said constructions merely fluttering and whirling with her long, tattered cloak behind her form as she moved.

Her facial regions, their features, were the hardest to decipher, her mandible and lower face was concealed beneath the large collar of her cloak, It was of dark pigments but had a pattern of the deepest red upon it's surface, a rose or other simple construction, which obviously, no one would be able to decipher unless they were face to face with the woman.

Her orbs themselves adverted around the district as she halted, cloak coming to a steady stop, flowing around her form as did the bandages upon the hilt of her blade. Orbs gleaming, glowing even like lanterns within their sockets. Gaze shifting to and fro, transfixing upon random occupants, particapants within the Battle Arena.

She seemed to ponder for a moment, a slight smirk coming across her features, although, ofcourse such an action was not visable beneath her dark collar. Her orbs gleamed intensly as she muttered

"I return and the fighting has not stopped, now that is a welcome back party" She allowed a silent, half hearted laugh to emit from her lips as she adverted her orbs around the district.

"But...who to fight?" She muttered as she gazed, mid-ponder.

OOC: So, you want a totally realistic fight? Sounds like fun, I will take up your challenge.

It was said the arena bought respect and gave birth to legends. Saladin was uninterested in these things; his life already had provided him with all he needed. His time at the Warrior Academy had given him all the training he required, those many years perhaps the best of his life. Leading the people of his home world had earned him more than enough respect with the people that mattered the most, his people.

It had, however, been a long time since he had a true fight, and word had it that there was one challenging anyone who would come to fight at the arena. For one so confident, the fight would surely be an interesting one.

However, Saladin knew it didn't matter about the confidence of this fighter, for Destiny had gifted him. Every battle Saladin had entered finished in the same way, Saladin walking away as the victor, and it would be the same today. As it would be in the next battle, and every other battle, victory for Saladin.

Entering the arena, the sounds of the many people filling the seats would have sent an air of exhilaration around any other who entered, but not this warrior. He was calm, his pace steady and measured. The man walked with a manner fitting one who ruled an entire people, regality covered his poise as he seemed to idle towards the designated fighting area. Back straight, head high.

The steps he took seemed almost too graceful for one of such structure, the six feet seven inches tall warrior was heavily muscled, perhaps fifteen stones of solid muscle was that figure. His graceful walk, however, seemed to hint at speed not normally seen in one of that size.

Finally entering the area specifically for fighting, the crowd seemed to shout louder; still it failed to affect him. His sapphiric orbs didn't need to look at his opponent just yet, glowing as they always did, they avoided the opponent, not out of any disrespect, it was just that, right now, it didn't matter.

His regal pace ceased as he stopped maybe eight feet away from the figure that was his opponent. His entire manner spoke of calm, and so it was, both inside and out he was wrapped in total calm, breathing was slow and steady, he showed nothing except calm.

Stepping forward with his left leg, it slid across the concrete floor of the arena, its movement finally ceasing shoulder's width in front of the right limb.

Knees bending slightly, lowering the warrior's centre of gravity, allowing weight to be distributed evenly. Right hand rested against the hilt of the sword at his left hip.

That hilt, golden, was stylised as a dragon, two and a half hands in length, the dragon's head at the end provided a perfect position for the right hand of the warrior. The scales of the dragon positioned along the length of the hilt, would provide a perfect grip for the warrior.

The blade itself, long and slightly curved, polished to a great shine, sharpened to a razor, was hidden inside a leather scabbard. The markings of the scabbard well hidden beneath the cloth of purest white wrapped neatly around the scabbard.

A very slight breeze flew into the arena, making strands of purest silver blow behind him momentarily. Those strands smooth and straight accentuated seemingly carved features. Falling to heavily built shoulders, the silver contrasted greatly with the black attire.

A silken Mandarin suit, trimmed with gold, covered his form, fitting just as he wished it to be, slightly loose, allowing ease of movement, but not loose enough to cause any tactical issues, top led to trousers, underneath which were Kung Fu shoes, again of black, the soles thick enough to provide support, but thin enough to allow the feel of the concrete floor pushing up against the feet of this mighty warrior.

He was ready now, prepared for battle. Now his sapphiric orbs, glowing gently, would observe his opponent. A woman, eh? He wouldn't hold back, past experience teaching that women at times were more fearsome enemies than men.

Still, it mattered not, already knowing the outcome, victory his already, Destiny would ensure that.

"Let's begin this. Come at me."

As those smooth baritones sounded, calm and level, he knew his opponent would be able to hear, the vocals carrying just enough so that she would hear, nothing more was needed. Those words carried no emotion, but, as would be expected, carried the tone of a ruler, his orders were always obeyed, and his tone showed he expected it also.

Patiently now, he awaited the offensive strike of his opponent, calm still surrounding him.

(O.O.C - Awesome, I look forward to this match, Sorry about the shortness of this post, I posted another yesterday and it deleted it, quite..Well literally gutted about that >_<)

The sun had begin to set across the horizon and as she gazed upon the distant buildings she could see the golden rays of light reflecting upon the constructions. The buiildings themselves seeming to fade into the picture-like landscape as the sunlight soon began to creep in a backwards motion.

She remained within her ponders, orbs merely gazing upon the beauty as her structure stood firmly in the Battle Arena, bandages upon the tsuba of her blade billowing fiercely about as the rising winds began to sweep throughout the domain.

A hand came idely up, phalanges twitching somewhat as to scratch lazily at the material that was her collar. Her phalanges trailed delicately across the fabric as she remained within her contemplations, radius rotating slightly as to continue the said scratching.

Her orbs soon trailed away from the beauty of the sunset, the sound of approaching footsteps had reached her ears. It was indeed quite suprising that she could hear such a noise through the cheers an calls of the many other occupants of the Battle Arena but never the less, she had heard the approaching sound and her orbs trailed idely towards it ..A challenger maybe?..

She allowed her hand to come slowly from the surface of her collar, both arms travelling towards her chest, folding idely across her chest region as she watched the nearing male, orbs gleaming intensly in their sockets as she observed the oncoming man. She began swiftly to take in each detail, each characteristic, each slight feature of the man.

In her mind she took note of his clothing, his movements..How elegant and slow they were as he paced, his breathing..It seemed to show such a manner that could only be classed as mere calmness, an opponent that showed great confidence and would portray determination in the oncoming match, and last of all his weapon, her orbs seemed to remain fixated upon the peice for several moments, observing it's beautiful, skillfully crafted tsuba she seemed to grin from beneath the collar.

Upon his entry into the Battle Arena she herself remained silent, still and calm as to merely observe the form some more. The only slight movement of her form had been to stand up straight instead of remaining in the slouched posture she had been in mere moments ago. The slight creaking of her vertebral column whispered through the air as her bones seemed to slide back into place.

Her opponent stood at a high height and his posture was one that showed only honour and pride. She could see from merely observing the male that he was a pride and honourable man, No matter, she had not had a worth while fight in years and it did not matter if the man was honourable or not, aslong as he provided her with such a thing.

At his words, she slowly brought a hand to her left scapula, pulling the blade from it's bondage upon her back and, upon doing this she slowly lowered to a crouched position upon one knee, hand clutching the tsuba slightly, other palm wrapped lightly around the blade itself. She lay the blade upon the ground, the sword itself emitting no sound as it lay upon the concrete.

She let her grip around the blade be released and merely rose her form slightly, cranium rolling lightly, tilting from side to side, her humeruses rolling lightly in a clockwise motion as to stretch. Her form remained slightly crouched, left knee bent, right knee upon the concrete floor. Her orbs had remained upon the form of her opponent as she performed this slight movement. Finally she spoke, her tone calm and holding no emotion, her orbs now dull as she watched his response.

"Only fools would rush their opponent upon knowing nothing of them, you look like a wise man, and you probably know such a thing, I will leave you to take the first steps in this battle." She said, her vocals sweeping steadily through the winds to reach his form.

Watching the younger, shorter woman now, observance only off hand, sapphiric orbs of fire, glowing brightly against the setting sun, still well above the horizon, however creating a coral hue over the arena.

Despite the gusts of wind now passing through the arena, the air was warm, the sun creating heat, along with the many shouting spectators anxiously awaiting this battle to begin.

Those orbs, glowing fiercely, now locked upon the opponent, would not leave that gaze. Those orbs, piercing seemed to show a great furnace behind them. Keeping fixed upon the woman, as she drew her blade and then knelt down on one knee.

Those eyes held no malice, nor was his intention to intimidate; it was merely the intention of this mighty warrior to observe, always prepared.

Muscles seemed to bulge through silken attire, abdominals and pectorals, although hidden beneath silk top were heavily toned. Should the garment be removed, a dominant gut would be seen, muscles scaling that torso in four pairs, pectorals standing out greatly.

Although they were hidden, the arm muscles were easily visible as he stood there, still, only eyes moving in observance of the enemy. Mighty biceps stretched through material, forearms seemingly swollen by the solid muscle mass therein.

Thigh and calf muscles also, bulging outwards, well toned, strong.

There he stood, entire countenance radiating calm, now, in heat of impending battle, the cries of those around him seemed to disappear, and all that existed was himself and his opponent. Well trained in the arts of fighting, his mind was prepared, just as his body was.

Destiny seemed to rest upon his shoulder, the knowledge of victory running through his veins. Still, one lacking pride, he simply knew what would be the outcome. However, he would never dishonour a foe by not giving his all.

The words spoke clear as the vocals of his opponent reached his trained ears. Inside he smiled, she had offered a challenge, he had accepted, and yet, she seemed unwilling to attack.

Not knowing how things happened in this place, he was well aware of the traditions of his home world. The one offering the challenge would come at the one challenged.

"Come at me."

Again, those baritones sounded clear, confident, and calm. Level was how he spoke, with only enough volume for his opponent to hear. He had trained even vocal chords to do his mind's willing.

Such was the level upon which this master Warrior, leader of a great people was trained, everything under his conscious control.

Again the words would ring as a command, his tone showing he was patient, and would await the offensive of the opponent. He did, however, know she would now proceed.

Her form remained crouched as the wind continued to bustle about her form, tattered cloak draping across the concrete, being picked up by the winds, causing the rugged material to flutter about her crouched structure.

Upon the man's words she rose her gaze to the skies, features remaining emotionless as she gazed upon the golden pigments that had bestowed the skies. Orbs gleaming like lanterns in their sockets as the sunlight reflected off their glas like surfaces.

She brought her left palm swiftly out, phalanges twitching, stretching out and pressing against the cement as she pondered, A light gleam coming from the depths of her orbs as she then moved upwards, Vertebral column straightening up, her structure rising upwards into a charging motion.

Upon rising, her form began to tilt forwards, arms coming swiftly to her sides as she brought her right foot back, left leg bending somewhat at the knee, She tipped forwards, the said movements only taking a mere moment although seeming to take several seconds.

She moved onto her feet, moving into a charging posture she swiftly moved forwards, frame gaining momentum as her structure dashed towards her foe, picking up speed as she recovered the space between their forms.

Her orbs traced swiftly over his form as she leapt to the side, swiftly dashing around the man's left side, her movements swift and planned, breathing remaining calm and at a steady pace as she dashed to the side of her foe, Saladin.

Her palms came to the ground, her form twisting as to roll mid air, both palms touching the concrete as her form spun in the air, Cloak bustling about her moving form as her left foot lashed out swiftly into the spleen of the male. Toes pointed as her foot propelled out in the swift motion. Aiming to atleast bewilder the male if not injure him.

Her knee bent , her form rising upon the palms, structure seeming to spiral through the air in a flipping motion, Landing in a crouched position a few metres from her foe. Orbs remaining at a steady height observing the form of the male, calmness still about her form.

Her eyes remained upon the form of her opponent, palms coming back to the concrete either side of her as she rose to her feet once more, watching the man closely as to see if her foot had impacted the targetted area of the man, and if so, the reaction of the man.

The coral aura now surrounding the arena radiated a felling of calm towards the warrior, still in his stance, having not moved since assuming the position.

Those sapphiric occuli glowed still, calmly observing the movements of the opponent. Those minute manoeuvres, deliberate in their cause, gave the signs Saladin needed to confirm his orders were being obeyed.

Although the level of procrastination was more than would be accepted had he been at home, he didn't mind. Those occuli watched patiently. Knowing they would be the key to his victory.

True, Destiny had granted him with a gift. But knowledge was certain that should he not apply himself, that gift would leave and goes to another warrior, although who she would choose, Saladin was ignorant. For none he had met possessed both the physical and cerebral capacities to defeat him.

Musing over the capricious nature of that strange lady, he observed the opponent charge towards him. Strange how all warriors had not fully realised the way things they did affected the battle.

The shoulders.

How they seemed to be ignored when considering tactics for battles of this nature, one against one. Those simple connecters, joining neck and body and arms, ensuring totality of the human form. Oh, how they revealed all intentions in battle.

Instantly, the plans of the opponent were hinted to him. He smiled, sinuous lips of the palest crimson curling upwards in a show of satisfaction. It seemed the Lady had not yet abandoned him.

Techniques, thousands of techniques ran through the encephalon of the warrior. Techniques taught at the Academy on his home world. He had repeated those many minute movements, until each was completed with exact precision, the movement entering consciousness in less than an instant.

How those days were his most favoured reminiscences, many years ago now. However, having left that academy, all he learned was put in practice. Now, in an instant strategy was built.

Strategy was what mattered in battle; Saladin knew this as he remained still, his opponent still approaching him.

He had led armies, greatly outnumbered, miniscule chances of victory. His mind, that tactical, strategic mind, had ensured victory every time, even before he had met the Lady.

Strategies and tactical thoughts. That is why he had always won in battle.

Strategy was now in place. Victory was his alone.

With the strategy there, movement began. The opponent was to the left of the warrior. Her body coming towards him with great speed. A chuckle was held back. The taller warrior, blade in hand, knew victory was in place now.

His opponent, speeding towards him in an intricate dance had great momentum. Her leg, outstretched and speeding towards the side of the warrior, came with that momentum. She had been committed to that movement by her own choices.

That leg came towards Saladin. Suddenly, with the agility expected of a man of smaller stature and build, Saladin shifted, His left foot sliding backwards, whilst his body twisted, muscles, well trained contorted as he found his body now directly facing the opponent. The feet had also twisted on the balls; they too reached a ceasing of movement once facing the foe.

As that movement was carried through, the blade in the warriors grip was lowered, or at least, the point of the blade had come to face the concrete floor of the arena. The movement of Saladin was highlighted by shoulders forcing the blade through that same trajectory. The deadly razor's edge was facing the left of the warrior as it ravelled through the air.

Now, the positioning of the opponent was unfortunate. For her at least. Because, as the warrior had turned his body, the opponent's foot was already committed to drive onwards, the movement having commenced a moment only before that foot would drive into Saladin's spleen.

Now, the foot of the opponent, indeed, still heading towards Saladin, was now targeted at the well trained stomach muscles of the warrior.

This would have been fine, had the blade of Saladin not been coming across that area, the force of that movement heightened by the additional shoulder support, them twisting allowing greater speed and strength to be gained as the blade travelled.

That blade, the timing of the strategically minded warrior ensuring so, would be passing the central are of the torso at the same time the foot of the opponent was barely a few inches from connecting.

This positioning would mean that the blade of Saladin would travel directly at the ankle of the opponent. The fact the blade was so sharp, coupled with the added power gained by the turning of the shoulders for more power, would mean that the opponent would a great pain shooting up that leg as the foot is removed. The blade would travel through the boots, entering the ankle and come out the other side.

This would result in the opponent unable to continue in the fight, and Destiny showing her frail loyalty once more.

Strategy. Strategy and calm. That was Saladin. That was the victor.

Her form spun swiftly through the air, shoulders twisting mid pivot, palms upon the concrete, foot outstretched, phalanges pointing out in the swift kick towards the spleen of her male opponent. Ofcourse, her momentum would cause damage of the spleen if her foot was to connect with the targetted area. However, this had not been the reason for such an attack.

She had obviously pondered and thought out the attack as she had watched her opponent moments ago. She had contemplated and swiftly thought out a strategy, she had calculated the possible weakness's of the man, his strengths, her strengths and weakness's, and ofcourse the speed of herself and her foe.

It was strange to believe that such a tall framed structure would be able to move as swiftly as her but something had caused her to ponder upon it, The man seemed determined and most of all confident.

What would be the reason for being so confident? She had her own reasons for why she herself was confident but as to why her foe remained calm and confident like her, was beyond her and therefore forced her to ponder, to contemplate upon it.

It was now perfectly obvious as to why he was so determined, and so, now she placed her plan into 'rolling' action. She made her move, swift and well balanced, her strategy's tip played out. Her form performed the spin, foot lashing out into the spleen of the male. Ofcourse, the damage it would cause was not the reason for unleashing it, it was a mere 'tester'.

Her orbs did not transfix upon the space inwhich she would land in a perfectly well thought out position, nor was her gaze upon the facial regions of the man, instead they took to transfixing upon the space inwhich her foot may, or may not connect upon, as if expecting something to occur.

As she had predicted, his form made his move, but instead of manoevering around her attack he merely brought his blade around, calmly and confidentely, towards her ankle. Upon impacting, it would indeed severe her foot, ankle down.

She had mere moments to ponder, her strategy had unfolded and she swiftly made her move. Right arm coming about, around the left palm, her whole structure swinging as her palms were placed perfectly upon the concrete.

Both feet swung about as her whole frame manoevering around, pivotting about, her palms continuing to be placed perfectly upon the cement as her structure spun, both feet outstretching, lashing out into the left shoulder of the man, aiming her feet up towards the humerus of the male.

If she was correct, her swift movement balanced out with her strategy and balance would bewilder her opponent, and the said impact of her two outstretched feet would cause the man to be knocked aside, his frame being thrown off balance. Her own form would land perfectly upon her feet, allowing the match to continue.

She had narrowly escaped the surface of the blade and yet she remained calm, confident..Determined. She would not allow herself to lose, she had victored many times before. She would keep to her strategies and she would therefore gain victory.

Calm enveloped the tall warrior, his form under his minds control totally. Breathing remained in that steady pace, his heart beating still rhythmically pulsing the blood through that intricate network perfectly designed within his form.

His opponent, smaller lighter, would be swift in her movements, he was totally aware of this. But the opponent mattered not; battle was merely a test of one's own stratagem.

He knew that Destiny created his victory; however, it would be a matter of time. How long would it take him to attain that victory? That was his decision.

His frame, broad as well as tall created for him the perfect tool in which to carry out his wishes. Men of his structure had a tendency to be slower than those small and less muscled. Saladin was more than acutely aware of this, so his body became its own. Training the body, he had programmed that mighty form to move with agility and grace. These two attributes themselves resulted in the speed with which he placed his movements.

Observance was the key. He had learned over the man years of his existence that the enemy was always in a position to attempt surprise, just as his form belied his speed and agility.

Mind working along with those luminescent occuli of deepest sapphire. The orbs tracking the movements of the enemy, mind working in conjunction to determine the appropriate technique.

Those many years in training led to a mind and body that worked together, the sub-conscious self kicking in and moving the body almost without the conscious awareness knowing.

So was battle for the warrior, mind empty, those movements being executed with less thought than breathing required. The appropriate movements in place as they were needed.

So it was now, as the opponent's foot came towards him. Her change of technique with such speed would have surely knocked any other warrior into awe, but for Saladin, nothing surprised him now.

It was true that his movement, in pivot, was set in stone, his blade pointing downwards. He would have no choice but to continue the movement to his left, he knew this.

However, his observance ensured his form would suffer no harm.

The opponent, feet towards him, had redirected their trajectory with a great amount of skill. Saladin was sure many a warrior would have missed that gentle change in positioning, his trained eyes had seen it the instant her muscles had begun to move.

He remained in his trajectory, but extended the course. Rather than turning ninety degrees, his form continued the course, he now facing what was once behind him.

Those coral hues now causing the stone walls of the arena to glow heightened that sense of calm within, the warmth of that light comforting as the arena seemed to drop into silence.

The silence was not now the result of focusing out all but the battle, but the crowd gathered here today had dropped to silence, not expecting a battle of such speed to take place. Their silence only served to highlight what would surely be a most enjoyable battle. Not enjoyable for the spectators alone, but the two participants also.

His blade was pointing downwards as his pivot continued. However, as the feet of his opponent passed in front of him, in the position which his sinsistral shoulder had held only a moment earlier. Now, her feet high upon him, directly in front of his form, those heavily muscled arms came into action.

Upwards they travelled, those limbs required little effort to provide powerful movements. And swift were those appendages, bring the blade upwards at great speed to strike at the leg of the foe.

True, the opponent had truly ensured the victory would not be swift, but as that blade would strike the flesh of legs at the lower leg, it would certainly create a wound, although not enough to claim victory, but sufficient damage to ensure a restriction of movement.

As the blade would strike, or if it didn't, a step backwards would follow, relatively long, ensuring the opponent was momentarily out of range.

Those vocals would sound regardless of the outcome, baritones travelling through the air with confidence, again with just enough volume for the opponent to hear, nothing else needed.

"Impressive."

Those vocals held no scorn or sarcasm, no malice or mockery. Those words were simply the truth. He was impressed with the foe's movements, and his voice portrayed that he was stating this fact alone.

Patiently now, he awaited the opponents next attack, knowing it would come shortly.

Her feet had swung about swiftly, phalanges pointed, knees straight a to perform the swift, skillful, two legged kick. She had planned the kick well, the position, the speed, the balanced kick would surely knock her foe off balance.

Her palms remained upon the concrete, mid-kick, debris upon her skin as they slid with ease across the dusty flooring. Orbs remaining upon her foe as to watch any movements her opponent may make as a reaction towards her attack.

The seated crowds of people had fallen to being silent, ofcourse, they had expected a fight but they seemed suprised by the speed and skill that both herself and her foe already portrayed so early in the match.

Each occupant of the crowd watched on in mere awe as both herself and her opponent, Saladin, moved with such speed, such elegance, such skill, around the battle arena. No cheers or cries were heard from the observants, each merely sat upon the edge of their chairs, mouths ajar, orbs widened as if trying not to missing a mere moment of the match.

Once again her opponent responded, instead of bringing his blade around, continuing the said counter like some of her past opponents, Instead he manoevered around her foot, his frame spinning around as to face the direction that he had his back towards.

Her foot slipped past his structure, feet now sliding infront of his manoevered form, She widened her orbs for a split moment, once again being forced to think swiftly as his blade came around. She would not be able to simply change course of her feet this time, she would have to do something else if she wanted to keep her legs from being decapitated.

She reacted swiftly, knowing better than to merely attempt to change course once more, wise enough to know that such an action, at her present momentum, would only cause her to tumble downwards into the blade of her foe, something which she preferred not to do at the present time.

Her left palm came up from the cement in a quick sliding motion across the floor, this forcing her frame to topple over, her left shoulder blade sliding from air to the concrete in a swift movement. Her legs coming backwards as her form seemed to flip back through the air, it being more of a toppling motion away from the blade.

Upon her toppling motion, her feet came back, cranium sliding forwards across the ground, feet coming to the dusty concrete as she came into a rolling motion. Her frame then leapt to her feet. Rolling the shoulder she had fallen awkwardly upon for a moment before adverting her gaze to her opponent now standing inches away.

She brought her hand up once more, rubbing idely at the material of her collar as she gazed at her foe, his words reaching her ears merely moments after leaving his lips. Words that filled her cranium and remained imprinted in her mind.

'Impressive'

His tone had held no ridicule, no sarcasm, nor did it hold any tone that, so when she responded, she allowed her tone to act the same, it did not hold any mocking, nor did it portay any emotion.

'The same could be said about you, that it could..'

Although her tone had showed no emotion, her mind seemed to race through her thoughts, she had let her guard down, although she had not been hit she had come close to being impacted the blade. This was a mistake she would not make again, she would focus completely upon the battle at hand.

She smirkewd somewhat, orbs upon her foe, gleaming like lanterns in their sockets, hands coming idely to her sides as she waited for her opponent's move. She knew it would come, but in what form? This was something she would not know as of yet.

The man was quite odd looking for someone who was supposed to be a combatant in an arena, his clothes resembling a uniform from the armies of the United States.

The uniform was in light forest green colors, with several patches on the side of his arms. His own plain army boots were no wonder, but his hat was an oddity, the la, but the man’s own skin color was darker than most, him a descendant of the people from the Continent of Africa.

His hair was cropped extremely short, since in combat, “all excess is an weakness� He had with him two things, a well worn book with a leather covering, and his only weapon, a metal staff, around 2 meters in height, with two flared out ending points, the one currently pointed at the top had a gothic cross on it, and the bottom end had a sharpened point.

The man’s height was average in appearance, about 6 feet, but his walking style seemed unusual to any observers, since he was in the middle of reading the book.

He did not seem to have much musculature, but his ambient motions showed that he had some sort of motion to him, almost like a glide.
The man had heard about the tournament from the various ads at the underground combat scenes, but he had ignored it for the longest, knowing that he would have to fight one off world person, if not to regain respect for the Earth in this place of combat.

He had sat down on the sidelines, and he observed the two fighters, subtly placing down notes in the leather bound tome.

“Well its funny Uchnos…� the man said slightly “I have been to many arenas, but this is the first one that seems like Rome, how ominous�

Uchnos got up and started to stretch upwards towards the sky. Uchnos looked at the combat and simply whispered,�it’s like the gods themselves have started to fight� he said in an awestruck moment.

OOC: Sorry about the late reply.

As the strong, tall form of that heavily muscled warrior stepped back, orbs of luminescent sapphire observed as the woman, shorter and slimmer also rolled further out of range. Her evasion of his strike showed great agility and strength of thought.

Saladin was truly impressed with the skill the fighter had demonstrated to him. She was certainly one who would provide a bout of great entertainment. It had been a long time since he was offered a true challenge.

Knowing now that the battle would only become more heated, he smiled as he brought his body into a stance, different from the first, and his legs came to stand one next to the other held straight. Both hands once more gripping the long golden hilt of the sword he handled with such great skill, bringing those arms directly up now, above the head of the man. The blade pointing horizontally now, behind the great form of this warrior.

This positioning of his form highlighted that strong, muscled figure. Those muscles bulging in arms greatly, pectorals now in clear view as his body remained perfectly still.

Still wrapped in perfect calm, the silence of the arena had almost gone unnoticed, it mattered little to this silver haired warrior, he would enjoy the battle just as much to the sweetest song of silence as he would to the screaming of spectators.

As he stood, calm and empty of conscious thought, his subconscious anima worked. Thousands of tiny movements running through that cerebellum, ensuring all tactics were considered.

Attention once more upon the opponent as she spoke. Her words mirroring his own, he discarded them, he had merely acted to test the smaller woman, one attack and a defence or counter from an opponent was all that was needed to accurately determine their true level of skill.

"Bring yourself at me again. Then you shall see impressive."

His baritones again carrying no emotion, just simple fact, holding enough volume in that silence, perhaps the spectators heard those words If they did, Saladin knew it played no part in his purpose as victor of this battle.

Now, he patiently awaited the one who had challenged any who chose to enter the battle to make her move. Still, subconsciously did the mind of this warrior work constantly upon different strategies.

As he awaited, the coral glow of the arena, caused by reflections of the setting sun against the stonework of this place of battle shone upon the two fighters. That light making the two seem to be uncased in a thin nimbus of that gentle hue.

A gentle breeze blew through the arena, causing the hair of silver to move in a dance upon the shoulders of the warrior, strands catching that gentle glow, causing a show of dancing light around the features of this man.

He waited calmly. Silently.

(No worries)
She watched her foe in silence. Orbs remaining fixated upon the structure as she stood. Her form lowering once more, left foot coming forwards, knee bending, her chest lowering towards the said knee. Her right foot coming backwards, bending somewhat as she shifted her weight forwards.

She rolled her shoulders back, loud crackling noises emmitting from within the humerus' as she did this. A slight twitching expression coming across her features, this remaining upon her features for a mere moment before being replaced with a stern, determined expression.

She allowed her orbs to shift towards her foe and as the Coral hues continued to travel across the skies and the golden hues radiated off their forms it became a momens which seemed to slow each object, each construction down, the light of the sun had created a calm, soothing moment which was now frozen, like a picture. Golden buildings. coral aura radiating across the blue, cloudless skies, a blackbird flew from it's next, circling around the picture for a moment before exiting into the trees once more.

Slowly the 'frozen' picture began to move on once more, and time began to move sluggishly on once more. The spectators shifted about in their seats, continuing to watch in awe. he wind picked up once more, causing the hair of her foe to flutter upon his shoulders, as if dancing.

She pondered for a moment, his words reaching her ears, and once again she moved forwards, right foot travelling around as she dashed forth. Left fist coming around as she once again moved across the domain. Her form leaping to the left, swiftly scooping up her broad blade and driving it around.

The broad blade swung around, coral hues reflecting off it's surface as her form pivotted around, bringing the blade throughin a swift, well thought out manner towards the side of her foe, Saladin. Knowing that he may indeed dodge this move but hoping it would cause a more heated match to begin.

The sun's rays radiated across the skies and once more, time seemed to come to a halt. Each spectator had fallen to silence, each gripping the edge of one's chair in mere awe. The clouds moved slowly on, And her blade seemed to have come to a halt, although ofcourse it was not halted. It was moving swiftly, but the beautiful scene seemed to have caused each object, each constrctuion to be halted, frozen in time. The beautiful landscape continuing to radiate a series of golden colours.

Saladin watched in calm as the woman that was his opponent prepared herself for her next attack. He didn't need to hear the crunching of her shoulders, her movements spoke more than enough of the sounds erupting from those joints.

In that moment of seeming stillness, he allowed calm to fall over him even more, the crowds silent as they awaited, holding their breaths for the next God-like encounter between the two foes. However, for Saladin nothing existed but the battle, only himself, the opponent and the ground upon which he feet rested were the only things on his mind.

Then, the movement started again, his opponent coming in from the left, his sub-conscious began to work. Those many techniques running through his head once more, strategies instantly worked out.

The blade of the opponent came towards his side, however he was more than prepared. He twisted to his left, his blade pointing downwards as he spun. The blade of his sword came into contact with that of the foe, ceasing the blade's movements thanks to the heavy muscle mass in his arms. Those well toned, bulging appendage in truth stopped the momentum the foe's weapon had commenced, and then sent it in the opposite direction, away from Saladin's body.

The opening weas clear now as he sent his right foot towards the knee of his opponent as his blade made contact with that of the opponent. He knew she would be left momentarily off balance through the force of his blade's deflection of her attack.

Massive leg muscles sent the ball of his right foot in a slightly downwards motion for the woman's knee, hoping to break the delicate bones within, ending the fight and leaving him the victor.

In this encounter, swift as it was, the crowd still remained in silence, yet to exhale as they waited for the result of the epic battle. The coral hues from the sun seeming to cool slightly as a gust of wind sped through the arena.

All that was inside of Saladin was calm. Calm, and a firm knowledge of his victory.