Made To Kill

[Silence Sei]

Sei sat on the training grounds of Ixian Castle, a white cloth rag in his hand, and a bottle of steel polish in the other. The mute placed some of the shiner onto his cloth, and began to wipe his weapon down. He had to admit, when Anita first came home with a nine foot lance, the Mystic was more than a little upset that his daughter had spent so much money on such a frivolous thing. It had been months since he had scolded his child for the purchase, and up until today, 'Valeena's Favour' had been mounted perfectly atop the fireplace in the telepath's room. The twisting combinations of green and white managed to make the leader of the Ixian Knights appear even more extravagant than people made him out to be.

He spent several seconds polishing each inch, his eyes shifting upward during the cleaning job to look at the care of the training grounds. The straw dummies had been once more stuffed with hay, and lay beyond the square dirt floor, propped against a wall for the next time someone needed to better their skill. Several clumps of dirt stood out on the ground, places where his soldiers had to place sand back over the holes they had made for the dummies. A stray gust of wind kicked some dust up into the mute's nose, causing a coughing fit and an angry twitch of his brow. He had been halfway done cleaning his lance when the rouge winds ruined over two hours of handiwork.

In retrospect, trying to clean a weapon meticulously in an open field of dirt was probably not the best idea the Mystic had ever had. He looked up to the blue sky, thinking about the challenge he had issued via a piece of paper in the lunchroom. With the upcoming Serenti Invitational coming up, the leader of the Ixian Knights had imagined that several of his men had received letters asking them to join in the tournament. Trying to help his soldiers, Sei issued an open battle challenge to anybody willing to spar with him in the Ixian Knights training grounds, making sure the notice was up before breakfast time. Apparently, the idea did not go over so well. The sun stood at its highest point in the day, and the Avatar of Alerar was starting to notice the browning of his skin as he went back to his work.

He had thought for sure somebody was going to take him up on the challenge. Perhaps engaging one of Althanas finest warriors before a tournament in which the contestants had to do the same several times over was a bit much for the men. Sei had even brought out the weapon he had the least amount of experience with to even the odds in the favor of his unknown foe. Valeena's Favour, while crafted by an obviously fine artist, did not have much practicality for a man who rarely rode a horse into his duels. Sure, there were tales of people who could slaughter armies with a single lance, but Sei did not have the first clue in how to even use the weapon in one-on-one fights. He sighed to the air, propping one of his legs up in preparation to leave, when he heard the oak doors behind him open, a loud creak echoing into the halls within. The mute stood up and turned to face his sparring partner, his eyes growing wide at just who the one man was that answered his call.

"Very well then," Sei spoke to his soldier, his hand growing tight around the lance still half-way on the ground, "May the best man win."

[Paragon]

Dorian looked around at the dirt courtyard. Many warriors tested their mettle here, and it served as a way to boost morale for the castle-dwellers by watching the feats of strength, speed, and skill. The blue sky was in full view, with not a cloud in the sky to obstruct the full power of the sun. In Dorian's right hand was his spear; his gift from Malanthar. There was no confusion as to why he was here, although nobody would have expected it. Usually, Dorian appeared at the castle rarely, and only to do the kind of crafting that required recognizable skill. Nobody besides Jensen Ambrose had actually seen him fight, which made him known as the only non-combat General in the Ixian Knights.

Sei believed in strength. Dorian could see it. The Mystic took very seriously the responsibility that came with his power, but the effort that it took to protect everyone was overwhelming. For Sei, to see the others being able to hold their own in a fight and take care of themselves was a constant reassurance; a load off his mind. Ideally, the castle should be able to function as well with him as without, but the gap that he leaves was simply too great. Dorian didn't personally know anyone that could compare. That is why Sei was the best option for him right now. If he was going to do the Serenti, he may run into enemies as strong as the Ixian's leader.

"Straight to the point, eh?" said Dorian, still a little shaken while realizing that the voice in his head is not Fallow this time. "Alright, then." The dragonling himself was sneaking snacks from the kitchen area of the castle, close enough so that the breadth of the courtyard did not effect the distance limitation of their soul link.

Placing his left hand on the shaft of his spear, he walked out to the center of the courtyard, he new Dragonet Greaves kicking up dirt in his wake. Before today, this piece of armor was completely unheard of. It was the first real piece of equipment he made for himself, and it was quite a doozy to make. It took him weeks to find the rare strain of Salvic Coat Iron, and it just barely met the qualifications for Celesta's enchantment. Forging it was another problem altogether, since the slightest error could have ruined the materials. While he could practice using the greaves on his own, it didn't instill in him the type of instinct he needed in dangerous situations. He hoped Sei would provide such a situation.

His right hand moved downward and grasped itself around the base of the spear, slightly above the bottom. He held it at an upward angle, the blade pointed at Sei's head. He noticed Sei's lance, and it struck him as strange. Lances were similar to spears, but their main wielders were mounted warriors. They were far too large and heavy to be used by infantry, but who knows what Sei could do with it. His own Hydra Lance still had many mysteries hidden in those dragon heads on it, but for now all he could do was use it as a javelin, and it was surprisingly easy to throw. It was possible that Sei was going to use the lance as an over-sized staff. Either way, Dorian knew to keep his distance. Something that unyiedly should provide him an opportunity to close the distance.

[Silence Sei]

Dorian had been the last person that Sei had expected to see ready to test his prowess in a fight. After all, he had up until this point never seen the 'Wandering General' in any combat situation. The mute carefully examined the spear of his training partner, admiring the care that Dorian seemed to use in all of his weapons. The Mystic expected nothing less from the blacksmith than quality forging, but even a great weapon in the wrong hands could yield disastrous results. This would be as good of a time as any to see just what Dorian was capable of.

Sei tugged on his lance, expecting the large weapon to just be pulled into a readied position as easily as the other weapons in his arsenal. The pulling of the weapon did nothing except twitch the arm of the warrior. Sei's eyes peered back to the weapon, dropping the rag in his other hand and grabbing the base of the pole arm. He tried to pull again, this time meeting with mediocre success, managing to position the long weapon into the air directly in front of him, as one would a broad sword. He could feel the weight of the weapon bearing down on his arms; something the Mystic had not been ready for when he decided to use the thing. In a few brief seconds, Sei dropped the weapon again, making a tactical decision to rest the giant thing at every given opportunity.

"That was slightly embarrassing," Sei admitted to his general, rolling each of his shoulders in an effort to loosen his muscles up, "Let us try a different approach."

He raised the weapon to his stomach this time, its sharp tip pointed straight at Dorian. He could feel the sweat starting to roll down his face, a combination of expended energies, and the sun above. With no more hesitation, Sei ran towards the smithy, attempting to aim the point of his lance at Dorian's right arm. The plan was to disarm the man without actually severely injuring him. Of course, the Mystic's run was sloppy, a stumble from a wrong step presenting itself from time to time. Closing the gap between them would be the easy part of using such an elongated pole arm; the real trouble would come from its aiming.

[Paragon]

Dorian stood still, his knees slightly bent while holding his spear tightly. He could not understand Sei's charge, the way he was handling that weapon, nor the reason why he was using it. He figured that there must have been some ulterior purpose, some strategy, but he couldn't come up with anything. In the end, his only defense was his grasp of the fundamentals of using polearms. He watched the point of Sei's lance, the way it trembled with each of the Mystic's steps.

The trick to polearms is that they are a weapon that keeps your enemy at a distance, and the stabbing power does not require as much strength to pierce through equivalent-quality armor as the more common sword does. A fight between polearms is a fight of distance, and in distance was Dorian's method of attack. Even as the blade of Sei's lance rushed past the tip of Dorian's spear, he did not flinch. Then, he jerked his right arm up, keeping the spear steady with his left hand. His spear moved according to the change in direction as dictated by his right hand, which sent the shaft of his spear on a collision course with the shaft of Sei's lance. It did not seem like much, but even a five degree distance in a polearm's trajectory changes its target entirely. At the end of the motion, he would bend his knees and lean forward, using Sei's own momentum to attempt to pierce him in the shoulder.

[Silence Sei]

When the shaft to the two polearms met, Sei had expected what Dorian’s plan was. Sure enough, the youth decided to redirect the Mystic, sending his charge towards the southeast of the blacksmith, straight towards a wall of meticulously lined up training dummies. Sei grit his teeth and closed his eyes to prepare for impact. Even if he had released the lance now, his forward momentum would have continued to propel him at the wall.

Dorian solved this problem by stopping Sei with the tip of his spear. The mute could feel the cold steel as it penetrated his shoulder, running through the muscle and stopping just short of hitting the bone, managing to enter just above his left armpit. Sei dropped his weapon in pain, his eyes opening up to try and see how far the weapon had gone through his body. When he realized the weapons tip was still inside of him, the telepath let out a weak grin. He had faced worst, but that did not mean getting stabbed did not hurt like all get out.

“You should….teach me that trick,” Sei spoke to his General, using his right hand to hold onto the shoulder. Blue blood tricked onto the turned oak wood as the two sat there, Sei speaking as if the weapon inside his body was a minor hindrance. “I’m fine, but I need you to do something for me now.”

Dorian blinked in awe for a moment, his hands growing tight around his weapon, as if preparing to remove it from his commander.

“Push it through.” Sei spoke plain and quick, before Dorian may have tried to get the weapon out in the exact opposite fashion. “That blade is going to hurt much worse than the wood. If you’ll just push it through, we can continue.”

The Mystics smile formed into a grimace of pain for a moment before he looked back to his friend. “I’d be a pretty bad practice partner if I let something like this stop me already.” There were hints of pain in his ‘voice’, but nothing that would not stop the telepath from continuing.