Combat and conference

Orin attacks first, a simple thrust towards Kael’s chest, which he easily parries with one blade. Kael spins towards Orin’s offhand, bringing his other sword around in a wide swinging counter. Orin deflects the strike with his dagger, springing back to gain some space.

Almost as soon as he lands, Orin springs forward again, thrusting low this time. Kael is **** to cross his blades to push Orin’s strike downwards. Pushing the locked weapons lower, Kael snaps a kick over his crossed hilts, surprising his younger opponent. Kael can feel the air tighten as Orin calls upon his power to enhance his speed, allowing him to sway aside.

Orin grits his teeth, using his increased speed to turn his desperation dodge into an attack, slashing with his dagger at Kael’s side. The attack, though fast, is reckless, and Kael is able to avoid it, while hooking his extended leg against Orin’s shoulder, using his momentum to push him downward. Orin rolls with it, narrowly avoiding Kael’s slashes as he rolls away.

Orin springs to his feet, settling into a low crouch. Almost too fast to follow, he hurls the dagger at Kael, and lunges forward as it is deflected. Kael is expecting the move however, focusing on projecting his null field even as he swats the spinning weapon out of the air. Orin stumbles as he suddenly slows to normal speed, and attempts to correct his movements. But Kael is on him already, one place grazing along Orin’s ribs, drawing a thin line of blood.

Kael spins his weapons, straightening. “First blood to me.”

Orin sighs, picking up his dagger and inspecting the gash on his side. “Well fought. Didn’t think you’d pull out the null field that quickly.”

Kael shrugs. “You need to expect your opponent to use every possible advantage. Less flashy, more certain.”

Orin is about to retort when another person emerges into the room. “Kael is right, Orin. You can’t lean so heavily on overly ambitious attacks.”

Orin doesn’t respond, simply nodding and shutting his mouth. Kael turns to face the newcomer, an older man with greying hair. Though older, he moves with grace, despite the ornamented armor he wears and the massive axe in a harness on his back. Kael bows to him.

“Master Bernal. It is good to see you.”

Bernal is the oldest of the champions, and the longest serving, having been friends with Lord Greyheart since they were young. Age hasn’t slowed him a bit, and it’s whispered that his axe could cut through any armor, no matter how enchanted. Respected by all, he is a beloved figure, nearly as much as Lord Greyheart himself.

Bernal smiles, shaking Kael’s hand. “Likewise, Kael. Allow me to personally congratulate you on your stellar performance. You are a credit to our order.”

Kael nods. “My thanks, Master Bernal.”

Bernal chuckles. “How many times do I need to tell you, it’s just Bernal. You haven’t been a trainee in ages. One day you may even eclipse me!”

He pats Kael on his shoulder. “But for now, I’d like to have a word. I just finished my shift watching over Vince.”

Only Bernal would ever refer to Lord Greyheart so casually. “A word? What about?”

Bernal smiles. “Nothing too serious. Just some knowledge this old man wants to pass on regarding your new…situation.”

Kael nods. “Of course. What is it?”

Bernal shakes his head. “Not here. In private. Follow me.”