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A Friendly Honor Duel. (Mohon, Private)

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A Friendly Honor Duel. (Mohon, Private) Empty A Friendly Honor Duel. (Mohon, Private)

Post by Sir Nicholas on December 13th 2013, 3:31 pm

Sir Nicholas Jameson stood in the center of the empty arena, waiting for his opponent, Mohon. He had been issued a challenge for a friendly match, and truth be told he was looking forward to it. He wore his best armor: A sleek, hard-edged set of steel and mithril plate, with his long blue cape attached to the pauldrons. Hanging loosely his side in its sheath was his sword, Decem Mandata. The blade seemed to thrum with power and anticipation as he waited.

I know you're eager for battle, old friend. He thought, partly drawing the blade. You'll get your chance very soon. Behind him, there was the sound of footsteps. A slow grin crept across his face as he sheathed it and turned.
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Post by Mohon on December 13th 2013, 3:44 pm

And there was Mohon. Unlike Sir Nicholas, who had come to the Arena wearing a full-fledged armor, the half-cat's getup was a lot simpler: a light purple vest that would grant him minimum protection at best, boots and leather guantlets. He had purposedly left behind his traveling equipment in order to decrease the amount of weight in his body. Because that was what his fighting style was all about: agility and speed. Though he considered buying some armor in order to protect his weak points (he knew some people that would sell him good pieces for cheap) he decided not to for a couple of simple reasons: 1) he wasn't used to wearing armor, and 2) most of his abilities relied on speed, and by weighting much more than he was used to these abilities would have been affected as hell.

Hence he came like that. He was a bit surprised after seeing Sir Nicholas: he looked like a fairytale knight. Even if he made several hits, it'd still be hard to bring him down. Plus, Sir Nicholas was an experienced fighter. Anyone would say that the odds are in his favor.

But that only made the smiling Mohon more excited.

Good to see you here, ol-, he remembered not to be disrespectful, Sir Nicholas. I hope we can have a good fight!
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Post by Sir Nicholas on December 13th 2013, 10:20 pm

"I hope so as well, Mohon." Jameson replied. He could see the anticipation in the younger man's expression and returned it with a smile of his own. "It pleases me greatly to see you're so eager to fight me." His expression turned serious. "But, before we begin, the rules of engagement are simple: Whoever surrenders or loses consciousness first loses. Fight me with all your strength. And that is all." He drew his sword and raised it in a token salute.

"Begin!" - He allowed Mohon a moment to prepare, then drew back into a fighting stance: One hand holding his sword outwards and the other held freely, loosely at his side.
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Post by Mohon on December 13th 2013, 10:41 pm

I agree with those terms. Mohon nods, draws his sword and prepares himself for battle.

He takes the stance he's most used to: the rapier in his right hand, pointing directly at his opponent and his left arm behind his back so it doesn't get in the way. At the moment, he had no use for that arm. He would later though, but only if absolutely needed.

Mohon reacted immediately at Jameson's signal. He gave a number of steps towards his opponent, all in an arch motion so each foot wouldn't get in the way of the other, keeping the width of the arch as small as possible so to not use more energy than needed. This footwork of his was the result of many days of practice to the point of becoming a natural motion of his, but today he was putting a bit more of conscious effort into it: this was a serious battle, and thus he needed to be serious inside despite showing a laid-back attitude on the outside.

The most remarkable part of these steps though was their speed, as Mohon closed the distance between him and Jameson dramatically in almost a second. He was close enough to be the first to strike, and he wouldn't lose that opportunity. A rapier was made for thrusting, and so his first attack was going to be a thrust against the middle of Jameson's chest. A fast, direct thrust towards his opponent.

Mohon had been fast but he feared... no, he hoped Jameson had a way to repel it.

OOC: Though you gave me permission to control your character if needed, I'll wait a bit to do that as I want to get used to how your character fights.
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Post by Sir Nicholas on December 13th 2013, 11:48 pm

The knight watched his opponent's blade and his footwork carefully, knowing that this would amount to timing. He had gauged the distance between himself and Mohon at a glance, and he knew the difference in the length of their blades would also give him the advantage. His longsword had a greater reach and by design was meant for cutting and slashes as opposed to the Rapier.

As Mohon crept about in front of him, Jameson stood perfectly still - watching his every movement carefully. When he struck, it was at lightning speed - something which Jameson knew to expect, given the younger man's armor, or lack thereof. He was fully aware of the misconception surrounding it, especially in mobility. A quick judge of the blade's trajectory and he knew what to do.

With that, Jameson swiped left, parrying the rapier and immediately counterattacked with a sideways swipe; his blade aimed at Mohon's throat, taking the shortest route possible at the jugular. One quick slash was all it would take, despite his intention. He had no desire to kill the younger man, but swordplay was a combination of chance, skill, and sheer luck.
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Post by Mohon on December 14th 2013, 12:44 am

Jameson had completely predicted Mohon's first move. Not the best outcome, but he wouldn't expect less from an experienced fighter like him.

Though duels between swordsmen were thought to be complex by many, Mohon had a simple and valid understanding of them. Disregarding tactics, predictions and planning, a duel consisted on two people relentlessly attacking each other to attain victory. Every single decision taken will lead, sooner or later, to one of the two fighters being under attack. As such, it wasn't hard to predict that after parrying the rapier's thrust Jameson would go into offense and swing his sword again.

Mohon was rather calm for a person with a sword being aimed at his neck. He knew exactly what he had to do: when his attack was parried, instead of trying to oppose Jameson's strength, he simply let his rapier be repelled by him. Using the momentum granted by Jameson's sword clashing against his own, Mohon led his weapon around his body, using his feet to turn himself around as fast as he could, and barely managed to make the blade reach the opponent's in time.

A small problem presented itself then: the large difference between raw physical strength between the two. Mohon couldn't hope to completely block the attack by matching Jameson’s strength. That was clear by merely seeing their physical compositions, but at the very least he could repel it. He used the little strength he had to hold his ground and then let Jameson's sword slide through his rapier's blade.

Now, before Jameson can reform his stance. A fast step backwards... and a faster step forward. He followed the same pattern: another thrust towards Jameson's chest, this time after having successfully repelled his sideways swipe.
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Post by Sir Nicholas on December 14th 2013, 1:17 am

It was by a narrow margin that Nicholas managed to avoid the blade, just by a scant few inches did he sidestep past the sharp edge. Wiser now for the experience of crossing blades, he backed away several steps and regained himself. Clearly he had underestimated Mohon. Just what kind of discipline and physical peak was required for such a composed defense?

Most impressive. Jameson thought as he exhaled sharply and gripped his blade with both hands. Quick to dodge, even quicker on the attack.

He went back in with a feint, followed by a renewed offensive. His blade swept left and right, chopping and striking from adjacent directions, though each attack met only empty air.

Mohon was faster than Jameson, and he easily avoided every stroke, but found himself being pushed back - as his opponent's attacks did not slow or give him room to counter.

Although it wasn't clear from the neutral expression on his face, Jameson was enjoying the duel. The speed and intensity of matching his wits and swordplay against such a capable opponent was exciting him greatly. Mohon was young, but his skills were well-developed from what he guessed were countless hours of dedicated training.


As his offensive died down after a few moments of swinging and missing, Jameson fell back again. This time he brought his weapon up in a high guard - with the blade pointed up and both hands on the handle, ready to swing at a moment's notice while he drew a breath.

To anyone outside, it might appear he was being overly cautious - his armor was designed to take punishment. But as he well knew, armor was formidable but not infallible. His head and neck were exposed, and for all he knew the thrusts might just be feints to cover for the real attack against the vulnerable joints.
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Post by Mohon on December 14th 2013, 11:29 am

Mohon had managed to avoid every one of Nicholas' attacks. Each strike and chop was strong by itself, and they clearly didn't have the intention of slowing down, giving Mohon no chance to counter or to do anything unrelated to dodging. It was only when Jameson fell back that Mohon was able to move freely again.

Jameson took a defensive stance. Was he preparing to strike, or was he waiting for Mohon to attack? No matter the option, he was forcing the cat-hybrid to attack. And after a second of deliberation, Mohon decided to comply: he closed the distance between the two again, the same arch-shape steps from before. Jameson's sword came swinging down at a ferocious speed, possibly fueled by the strength stored in both of his arms. Nevertheless, the trajectory of the blade was easy to predict, and Mohon simply had to move his body sideways to avoid being crushed.

Now it was his time to attack. Up to that point he had limited himself to thrusts but rapiers also had an edge to slash at opponents. He took the opportunity, thinking that Jameson wouldn't be fast enough to block his attack after that failed attempt, and slashed at his body, aiming at the vulnerable joints below his arm.

But his sword was parried. Jameson's sword had reached it, the experienced swordman possibly predicting exactly where he was going to attack. Mohon didn't lose heart and relentlessly attacked Jameson from every possibly angle at an unremarkale speed. Yet his blade never reached Jameson's skin, never did noticeable damage. It was all blocked by Jameson's sword and his ability to predict his attacks, something that could only be gained by the experience fighting countless enemies in the past, and when Jameson couldn't keep up with his speed, Mohon's blade unwillingly hit the sturdiest points of his armor.

Now I understand... He thought. It's not his physical strength, but rather his endurance what makes him so formidable... Hiting him feels like hiting a rock, all this while keeping a straigth face.

This time, it was Mohon the one who fell back while keeping his sword pointed at Nicholas. He took a deep breath, calmed himself, and began to think of a way to make break down that seemingly-impenetrable defense.
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Post by Sir Nicholas on December 14th 2013, 5:17 pm

((*Excellent. You figured out my fighting style right away.*))
_________________________

"I have to hand it to you Mohon," said Jameson in between breaths. "I am truly impressed. You're an excellent swordsman." From his tone and the level expression he had, it was obvious he meant the compliment.

With another deep breath, Jameson steadied himself and went about swinging once more - this time giving no quarter as he attacked. His strokes were wide, but alternated increasingly between fast jabs and long thrusts.

Mohon ducked and dodged over every attack, and though he couldn't compete with his opponent in strength, he more than made up for in speed and agility. His opponent was like a bear; enormous and powerful, but his blows were also concentrated and precise - so therein lay his advantages.

At one point, he found the opening he was looking for - Jameson having finished his combo with a downward slash, he was too slow to bring his blade around in defense of his face. Mohon struck, and his rapier met flesh at last; the cut was not deep, but it did draw blood - and he felt a rush of satisfaction at being the first to make a hit.

Jameson felt the cut across his left cheek and gritted his teeth as searing pain shot throughout his nervous system. Mohon was indeed formidable in his own right. But it took more than a scratch to end a fight.

Mohon retreated several steps; almost dancing onto his back foot. With that, he held his ground and countered his opponent's blade as it came in for a renewed thrust.

The longsword and rapier flicked and sparked as they exchanged swordplay; their masters standing several feet apart, yet neither willing to engage fully. To any watching, it clearly was a battle of opposites - speed and finesse vs. raw power and might.

The knight broke his pattern and shoulder-charged at his opponent, using his size and weight to counter the younger man's slim and agile frame.
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Post by Mohon on December 14th 2013, 7:11 pm

OOC: And you understand pretty well how Mohon fights as well.

Maybe I shouldn't have gotten so full of myself back there...

The cause of his thoughts was apparent if one looked at the previous events: Mohon had decided to wait for an opening while being under attack. Of course, one failed movement meant a heavy loss for him, but if Jameson kept on relentlessly striking then he'd definitely give Mohon an opportunity, or so the cat-hybrid thought.

Fortunately for Mohon, the situation did present itself and Mohon's rapier cut through Jameson's left cheek. It was a superficial wound, nothing serious, but it was the first wound any of them had received in their match. Mohon felt a little ecstatic; maybe he really could overwhelm this bear-like swordsman with his speed.

Though he backed down some steps, Mohon grew a bit over confident with that first blow. The following seconds was a succession of slashes and thrusts from both fighters, their swords countering each other without leaving a chance for any of them to retreat. The young man was sure Jameson would keep that pattern... but he was wrong.

Wha- It came as something unexpected for him. Instead of following with another sword slash, Jameson simply shoulder-charged at him. It was a normal physical technique, no, something that could barely be called a technique, but at the same time the best move to use against Mohon at that moment. Though the young man managed to take notice of the blow coming at him, he didn't notice fast enough to get completely out of the way. He used both his sword and left arm to protect the rest of his body, and upon collision he was literally sent flying a couple of meters away.

Such strength... In rough terms, his arm hurt like hell. It was basically like being hit with a hammer. Could a normal man really possess such formidable strength? Mohon wondered as he rolled on the ground and tried his best to recover his balance.

Yet the attack didn't end there; somehow or another, Jameson had closed the distance between them again and was already swinging his blade down on Mohon while the young man was in all fours on the ground. That was the first time in their whole battle that Mohon felt "fear", that his life would certainly come to an end if he didn't do something about it.

Thankfully he was not only skilled with his feet but also at using his hands as feet. He used all the strength he could afford on his four limbs to jump sideways, move out of the way, and then he immediately jumped back to put himself out of danger.

It seems that you're still better, huh... Mohon smiled, hanging his left arm from his shoulder. There's nothing broken... probably. It just hurts. I fear to think what would have happened if that had been a direct hit... But it wasn't time to get discouraged: thinking nothing of what happened, with a smile on his face, Mohon charged at Jameson again and, without even giving him time to respond to his words, he thrust his rapier towards his neck.

Jameson just made this fight all the more exciting.
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Post by Sir Nicholas on December 15th 2013, 1:12 am

The knight held off his opponent's stroke - using his blade's handleguards to catch the rapier as it came at him, he forced Mohon's blade to the side and counterattacked. Once again Mohon slipped away, only to repeat his previous move and come back in for another renewed offensive.

Impressed and surprised at the suddeness of his opponent's strikes. A regular enemy might be discouraged or disheartened at the odds, but Mohon had recovered quickly, and from the expression on his face it was as if he were about to laugh.

The younger man pressed his attacks; repeatedly striking and smiting, and though the knight defended himself - he could tell that his opponent had plenty of power left.

Eyes narrowing in resolve, Jameson held his ground and repeated the previous exchange - and with both hands on his blade, he forced his enemy into a standstill. At one point they locked blades, though the knight was holding back his true strength - desiring to continue the fight for as long as possible. It had been a decade since he'd enjoyed a battle this much, and he was determined to see the full extent of the younger man's abilities.

"Well I'm a fully trained soldier and martial artist. And I have an ace up my sleeve; something you just might see if you keep amusing me." He said as he broke the lock, pushing forward with a lunging stab. "You're skilled, but you're still a brat. Another few years and you might actually be my equal." Once again Mohon dodged to the left, this time aiming a disabling slash at Nicholas' wrist. The rapier dully clanged against his gauntlet, but it was enough to give him pause.

In that moment, Nicholas understood. He was facing an opponent with great potential. He knew the fight was going nowhere, and if he kept at it, the younger man would eventually capitulate. If that were to occur, he'd eventually strike a blow so fierce that Mohon might end up seriously injured or worse.

"It's been fun, but for your own good, I urge you to give up Mohon." Nicholas said as he used his gauntlet to throw away the rapier, but he did not press the advantage. Instead he allowed the younger man to back away, giving him a moment to recover. "I don't want to hurt you."
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Post by Mohon on December 15th 2013, 1:54 am

The young man gave two step backwards, his rapier still pointed at Jameson as he finished his sentence. He was giving Mohon a chance to surrender before the match escalated gravity. Usually, upon being given such an offer, Mohon would make haste to decline and continue the fight, but this time around he took a couple of seconds to consider it. The young man had felt it too; that if they kept at it, if Jameson continued to reveal more and more of his true strength, the consequences could end up being severe for Mohon. A fatal injury... maybe even death.

Yes, death. It was a friendly match, but serious nonetheless: death was a possibility. Most of their attacks, if not avoided or blocked, would lead to such a conclusion. Mohon wanted to keep enjoying this fight, but at the same time he didn't want to die.

For a moment, he felt like giving up, sigh on relief and shake hands with the experienced swordsman. But that was only for a moment.

I'll keep going. He smiles. And you have only yourself to blame for me saying that. After all, you said you have an ace up your sleeve... I really want to see it! So I'll keep pushing forward until I'm completely satisfied.

He takes a deep breath. He had realized that normal attacks and tactics wouldn't work. They'd keep repeating the same pattern again and again, maybe making some cuts here and there, but ultimately leading to the end where Mohon becomes exhausted and he's given a finishing blow by Jameson's sword. He had a way to change such an outcome. It was an ability he didn't often use... no, in fact, he'd prefer to not use it at all, as it takes a severe toll on his body. But there is no other choice, right?

I guess we were never clear about it. Mohon raises his left hand to his chest. It still hurt a lot, but not enough to inhibit its movements. We're swordsmen, and thus we fight with swords. But swordsmen of all ages, particularly ours' have always found ways to support their own abilities. So a little bit of this should be allowed, right? Out of sudden, electrical energy begins to flow through Mohon's hand. The electricity remains there for a moment, but it soon disappears into Mohon's chest, into the entirety of his body.

He goes on all fours, leaving his usual stance. Still gripping his sword, he looks at Jameson. His current position makes him look just like a ferocious cat preparing itself to chase after its prey.

What followed happened so fast that some spectators were simply unable to follow with their eyes: Mohon's four limbs propelled his body forward, using all the strength he had, but the time it took him to reach Jameson didn't match his initial speed; for some reason, it seemed as if he had gained velocity out of thin air.

The spell Mohon casted on himself had a simple effect: it increased his speed. An already fast person became 25% faster than he originally was. This spell didn't come without consequences, but Mohon couldn't think about that anymore; he simply wanted to show Nicholas what he was made of.

They were at a distance where their swords could reach each other. Time felt really slow for Mohon. What to do now? What course of action to take? How to attack? His mind worked fast and his limbs moved with the slightest from the brain. A thrust. He went for a thrust to the joints below Jameson's chest. It was a lot faster than before, but probably because of extra care being put into his defense after Mohon's words, Jameson managed to parry.

As expected from an experienced fighter... But it didn't end there. Once the rapier was parried, Mohon let the weapon be deflected, get thrown back a certain distance, and with the same speed he pushed forward almost immediately for another thrust. This time he hit, straight into Jameson's plate armor, but he hit. Not yet! The rapier bounced, Mohon pushed again, and he thrusts without letting even half a second pass.

A relentless rain of thrusts propelled by his enhanced speed and sheer force of will. How many did he do? 5? 10? He didn't count; he simply didn't care enough to count. He only cared about not losing the momentum gained with every strike, at not letting Jameson's sword get in the way, at not giving the man any chance to rest, or any moment to escape...

OOC: A damn lot of effort went into this post.
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Post by Sir Nicholas on December 15th 2013, 2:21 am

((*It shows. Take your time in between posts my friend. But I have to hand it to you: I am truly impressed. This fight is a lot like Ichigo vs. Byakuya from Bleach, though a lot more intense*))
___________________________
 
Through the rain of blows, Nicholas remained perfectly calm. He inwardly was both disappointed and impressed at the younger man's courage and determination. Truly, he was a worthy opponent. Yet, it was a forgone conclusion - Mohon would not give up, and the code of chivalry forbade him from surrendering himself.
 
With iron resolve, Nicholas brought his blade around and blocked the rapier at an angle; only this time his free hand shot out and grabbed Mohon at the wrist. Tightening his grip, he easily restrained the younger man and halted his attack.
 
"Your speed is amazing, but it won't save you." Said Nicholas coldly. His voice seemed to change; becoming deeper and more piercing. "So you want to see my full strength? Be careful what you wish for, fool."
 
With that, he turned about and lifted Mohon off the ground as easily as he would a child. He spun around once and released his grip, sending the younger man flying, though he did not expect the move to do damage, and indeed, Mohon easily landed on his feet some distance away.
 
The throw had served its purpose. It was not to cause damage, but rather to buy time.
 
With that, Nicholas closed his eyes - tapping into his inner well of power: And when he opened them, they had changed from their usual color of brown to a shade of vibrant gold.
 
His armor suddenly creaked and fell apart - though he had not touched it. Even his cape fell to the ground with a dull thud. Beneath the falling plates he wore a leather bodysuit as black as night. His muscles were stretched tightly beneath it as he fully shed the protective gear, and he felt himself out, stretching and getting used to the lessened weight.
 
"Awaken, Decem Mandata!" He cried, raising his sword skyward. "A worthy opponent has been prepared for you!" The blade suddenly burst into flames. "Now, Mohon. It's time to educate you on how a real fighter does battle!"
 
With that, he lunged - only this time he momentarily disappeared. When he reappeared, Mohon was caught by surprise, and barely had time to react as Nicholas brought his sword down. The younger man barely had time to escape the swing and even then he felt the wind from the slash, was almost sent flying from the shockwave of the impact as the sword struck the ground.
 
Jameson turned and struck again - this time nearly catching Mohon in the ribs with a stab. The blade grazed his skin however, and the pain nearly caused him to drop his sword in shock: Being cut and burned at the same time was an agonizing experience.
 
Again and again, Nicholas struck, and portions of the arena were set ablaze or were simply ripped apart by the intensity of his attacks. The blade tore through everything it touched - and it showed no sign of stopping. Mohon still managed to dodge, but it wasn't easy; his opponent's speed had also increased, and he'd lost only a portion of his power as a result.
 
In that moment, Mohon understood that up to this point Jameson had been deliberately holding back. His armor was not only meant as a protective measure, but also as a sort of limiter. It slowed him down because of his respect for life. Only now he was holding nothing back.
 
Despite the odds, Mohon realized there was one advantage he'd gained from Jameson shedding his armor - he now was far more vulnerable to attack. Therein lay his hope.

On the other hand, Jameson was determined to force Mohon to surrender, or perhaps simply knock the younger man unconscious. He was no longer holding back, but a part of him still desired to spare Mohon's life. The battle had gone on long enough; it was time to end it.
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Post by Mohon on December 15th 2013, 1:33 pm

His breath was heavy. His heart was racing. His arm hurt where he was hit. His chest hurt where he was cut and burned. Jameson would notice, and the many spectators as well, that he wasn't in the best of conditions. Having to avoid attack after attack, blade after blade, flame after blade, everything executed by the hands of a fierce titan of fire, had tired his body and mind. Little by little the young man named Mohon was beginning to lose heart.

He knew that Jameson had been hiding his true power all along... he just didn't expect that power to be so big. If he let himself get caught by those flames his body would be turned into ashes, and if he was cut by Sir Nicholas' sword then his chances for survival were slim at best. If anyone with lesser abilities to avoid damage had been fighting such a beast, chances were that person would have already been incapacitated by now.

Mohon had made several jumps back in order to win some time, but he knew Jameson would be there to continue his barrage of strikes. Just what could he do? How could he defeat such an opponent?

...no, did he really need to defeat him? He has already proven his strength, gotten Jameson's approval and had even been complimented by him. For a person that didn't have half the experience of the other, he had done remarkably well. Wasn't this a good time to throw in the towel? Anymore and he'd surely die. His growing lack of will became apparent, as his grip on his sword began to weaken. Yes, his chances at winning were 1%, maybe 2% at best...

1 or 2%... but that means I still haven't lost all hope on winning. His grip tightened. It's still early to give up...

Mohon returned to his basic stance: the rapier pointing at his enemy and his left arm behind his back. He took one deep breath after another, calming his heart and mind, forgetting about the pain, thinking only in that small possibility of victory, the possibility of executing a "Giant Killing", the defeat of a strong opponent at the hands of someone who's far weaker.

He analyzed his choices: with his enhanced speed, even with this level of power, Mohon could keep avoiding attacks for a while if he concentrated on Jameson's movements as much as he could. But avoiding damage for all eternity would not make him win this fight. He needed something else, a second strategy...

Ah. An idea came to mind. He could take advantage of Jameson having disposed of his armor. Though his physical defense had been decreased, Jameson had gained more power and speed to compensate for it, so Mohon didn't think anything had changed. He could cut his skin more freely, yes, but it also became more difficult to reach that skin. But what if he didn't have to "cut" him at all? There was a certain technique that would allow him to win without making actual damage. He couldn't execute it before because of Jameson's armor, but...

But maybe now... maybe it'll work. It was worth a shot.

He opened his left hand again, charged it with electrical energy and then infused said energy into his sword. He could have just transferred the energy already inside his body, but that would have decreased his speed and that was a no-go.

An electrified body. An electrified sword. They were his own spells yet they still negatively affected his body someway. No matter how used to electricity he is, he could still feel it. I'll just have to manage somehow...

He charged at Jameson again. The swordsman was surprised and disappointed at the same time: he knew it was a lost fight for Mohon, yet he didn't back down and attacked with the same tactic as before, trying to overpower strength with speed. The word fool described perfectly how Mohon was acting. But Jameson was still going to give his all. With his enormous strength he parried and deflected Mohon's sword and thrust his own at the young man's neck immediately afterwards. Mohon avoided the blow my moving his body and using his rapier as guard at the same time. The flames passed by his head, barely missing what could otherwise have been a fatal blow.

The pattern repeated itself. Mohon attacked, his sword was parried, and Jameson countered with crushing strength and speed. Then Mohon blocked and avoided the blow at the same time, barely escaping death.

After 10 times, Jameson would surely start to feel it. His fingers would slowly but surely begin to lose their initial powers, his hands would feel weaker and even his arms wouldn't react as usual.

The Thunder Sword spell had a simple effect: it filled the user's sword with electrical energy. Nothing more, nothing less. It'd give the user certain advantage against enemies weak against the thunder element, but that's it. At least, that should be it when fighting against Heartless or people who fought with their fists or long-ranged weapons, but when used to fight against other swordsmen it gave its user a particular advantage.

Most metals could be used as reasonably good conductors for electricity. Though steel wasn't on top of the list, it was just about as useful as cooper, the most used electrical conductor. Decem Mandata, though of otherworldly origin, had a steel blade and a handle guard made of bronze (another good conductor for electricity). A sudden discharge of electricity would send that energy to the opponent's hand using their own sword as a bridge. At first it'd feel itchy, nothing too serious, and in the heat of battle it would probably pass unnoticed. However, if these discharged were repeated in a consecutive manner for a long time, then a certain problem would arise for the user's opponent: the electricity would start to block the pathway between the opponent's nerves and their brain. In other words, their hands would go numb. And if a swordsman wasn't able to feel or use his hands, then it was more or less the same as being defeated.

The spell was a double-edged sword, as Mohon's hands would also grow numb with time... but it was a significantly lesser amount of time for Mohon than for Jameson. This strategy wouldn't have worked if Jameson still had a piece of armor protecting his hands, as they'd block most of the effect, but now that there was no armor at all, it was an opportunity that Mohon couldn't miss.

It all came down to a mere battle of stamina. Mohon would continue to attack and avoid, forcing Jameson to block and receive the electrical discharge. He'd keep attack him, and if Jameson tried to fall back, he'd follow with the same speed, giving him no chance to do anything else. But if he gave in just for a second, if he failed to dodge at least once, then that'd be the end for him. And if Jameson wasn't able to defeat Mohon before his hands became completely numb, then at the very least Mohon would have gained an exponentially bigger chance of victory.

The question was: who would give in first?

OOC: YOU have forced me to write more than I have ever written in a post (exactly 1200 words). Rejoice.
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Post by Sir Nicholas on December 15th 2013, 3:29 pm

It was with an increasing sense of frustration that Jameson clung onto his sword - and he knew the spell incorporated the power of Mohon's electricity. Therefore, the more times he struck his opponent's blade, the greater the effect would become. That was simply why he decided he would forgo his usual strategy and simply hack and hammer at him.

Time and again they crossed blades, and both felt the agony running through their hands, but still Nicholas refused to give up. He attacked again and again; stubborn as a ram.

Finally after a particularly brutal exchange in which he struck down hard, Mohon finally dropped his blade, and they both knew the end had come. A kick to the younger man's stomach, and Jameson had him at his mercy. The pain eased and he could hold his blade steady.

As Mohon tried to regain himself, he found the tip of Decem Mandata at his throat. The flames were extinguished as per its master's will, and he could see the golden glow fade from Jameson's eyes.

"You're beaten." He said with grim finality. "This is your last chance boy: Surrender, or I will end your life."
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Post by Mohon on December 15th 2013, 3:37 pm

As if I'm going to... huh?

Mohon still had the resolve to stand up. It was one of his qualities to be stubborn and to never give up while there was still a chance... but his body wouldn't move. He tried, he desperately tried to move his legs, his arms, even his tail that had been hidden under his clothes all along... but nothing moved.

It took him a while to realize the reason: it was a combination between his exhaustion and the effect of his spell that was already disippating. His whole body was numb. He couldn't feel a thing. It was obvious that he was no longer in the condition to fight.

He didn't want to give up... but he also knew when a situation was hopeless. He relaxed his face, sighed, and looked at Jameson with a smile. I can't go on. I surrender. And thus their fight ended.

Feeling he could finally relax, his eyes moved to the sky above the Arena. Had he ever had such a thrilling and difficult battle before? He fought really strong people when he was still weak and suffered heavy defeats... but it was the first time he truly felt he could defeat one of these strong people. He was satisfied with the outcome, and at the same time a bit sad. You truly are strong, old man... Mohon said, afterwards laughing at having called Jameson an "old man" again.
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Post by Sir Nicholas on December 15th 2013, 3:46 pm

Jameson returned the smile, sheathed his sword in one swift motion and fell back. Allowing his own fatigue to overtake him, he simply lay on the sand of the arena with a laugh.

"Yes. That was one hell of a battle. You are a true swordsman Mohon." He said. "But be aware - I never had any intention of killing you. Truly great fighters are a rare find these days." A whim struck him, and he obeyed it. "If you're ever feeling up to it, I could train you: I have no doubt you will eventually become an even greater sword-master than I am."
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Post by Mohon on December 15th 2013, 3:50 pm

Train me? Mohon sounded excited. Really? Really?! That'd be great! If someone like that trained him, then there was no doubt Mohon would grow even strong. I'll take on that offer... after I'm able to properly move again, that is.

Mohon stays silent for a while, looking at the sky. A simple question appeared in his head. Say, why did you become a swordsman in any case? He was curious about knowing what could drive a person to become so strong.
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Post by Sir Nicholas on December 15th 2013, 4:13 pm

"Because it was how I was trained." He replied. "My Master, whose name was Thore - taught me the virtues of chivalry and of swordsmanship: Restraint, temperance, generosity, determination, patience, compassion, and humility." He stood up and held Decem Mandata, still in its sheath as as a way of demonstration.
 
"When my training was complete, he gave me his sword - to show that I had passed the tests of virtue. It can only be wielded by one who displays all these traits." And with that, he reached down and offered his hand to Mohon.
 
"Take this time to rest and recover your strength. Whenever you wish, I will train you as he did."
____________________________________________

~The End~
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Post by Mohon on December 15th 2013, 4:26 pm

Feeling that he could move again, though only barely, Mohon took his hand and smiled at his new teacher.

I'll come bother you soon then...
____________________________________

~End~

OOC: Thought I'd make an "End" as well to keep the number of posts even. It was a nice fight and good plot development for Mohon. Thanks.
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