The fight began in a blaze of howling steel and bone as the old man
rushed toward Shell at lightning speed, stirring up fresh snow as he
slashed at Shell in all directions with the grace of a crane even
though he was toting around such a cumbersome weapon. Never having
faced such an opponent, all Shell could do was parry and deflect the
barrage of attacks slung at him as his own speed could not even come
close to this apparently master swordsman of sorts to strike back
after the parry. "What are you doing lad?!” the old man called
out “This is a sparring match! Not a one sided fight against a
straw training dummy! Attack me already!" The old man landed a
few more quick strikes in succession on Shells blade, then caught him
off guard with a quick slash to his blade that then slid past the
hilt and slashed his upper arm as quick as lightning. A crimson spray
of droplets littered the white blanket of snow on the ground as Shell
began to bleed from his sword arm, a fairly deep gash to the muscle
that required immediate medical attention and would not be wise to
move unless one wanted further damage. The old man flicked his sword
towards the ground, cleaning some of the blood off of his blade. "I
think this concludes our sparring match lad" the man said as he
had drawn first blood. He began reaching into one of his back
satchels for something and pulled out a vial of blue liquid. “I
told you I wasn't going to mortally wound you son, I do how-” Then
man looked back towards Shell and his eyes lit up with amazement and
extreme caution. Shells entire right arm had been consumed and
ignited into what one could only see as a dark purple flame that
emanated from his left hand. He quickly shoved the flames inside his wounds
and with a wince and grimace of pain, the flames went to work,
quickly stitching muscle and mending the flesh. Though the fire
mended flesh, one could tell that it caused the same amount of pain
as would a typical unction of healing salves.
"This fight isn't
over yet." The old man was left stunned for a moment until he
was able to grip his sword tighter, uttering a single word.
"Impossible." The wound closed with a fiery black flash and
once the flames cleared, Shell struck out without warning and went
on the offensive, slashing at any point that he could reach with his
blade. Though Shell was younger than his challenger and may have been
stronger, he was severely outmatched by the skill of this old man.
The old man was able to deflect and guard against each blow that
Shell threw his way. The old man then changed up the tempo of the
fight when he switched to an unknown fighting stance which forced
Shell from offense to defense once again without the old man so much
as breaking a sweat. The snow falling around them swirled along with
what was being kicked up by their movements and with every sword
swipe, almost as if the snow was trying to avoid being caught in each clash from the swords. When the two blades would clash, a sickening song rang out
into the howling winds while sparks were thrown with every clash of
their blades. After quickly dodging one of Shells attacks, the old
man was able to catch Shell off guard as he targeted Shells weapon
with an upwards strike to the hilt of the sword that sent it flying
in the air. The old man quickly pulled his weapon straight down over
Shells head, though somehow Shell reacted quickly enough to throw his
right hand out in front of the blade. A brief flicker of light came
into view as Shell quickly channeled some of his energy into his hand
and once the blade came within striking, the flicker turned into a
crystalline patterned shield that repelled the blade and repulsed the
man back a few feet, then shattered into dust which was swept up with
the snow.
"What in the nine hels?" The old man stayed his advance
for a moment to assess the situation as it had changed to a great
unknown for the old swordsman. "You've got more tricks up your
sleeve than a common street magician. Now explain to me, how is it
that you would not only know techniques of the Dark Arts that are
forbidden in Morhurst but you are also able to use a technique that
has been passed down through the Holy Knights regiment of Arkoria
for years? Those two schools of war were never integrated and only
select few from each school ever became users of those arts."
Shell caught his breath for a moment and walked towards his sword.
“How is it that one such as yourself, with no distinguishing marks
of either regiment know so much? You look like a warrior, not a
scholar, yet you bear no sigil of your allegiance but carry intelligence of those schools.” He picked up the blade and pointed it directly at the
old man, bracing himself for another attack. "I learned them
from a friend of mine if you must know.” The old mans eyes helped
give off a concerned look from that response. “I thought that you
said there would be no danger to my life for this match but when I
saw that I might have been wrong I used those techniques. What about
your end of the bargain? I thought you said you would not harm me?"
The old man kept a stern look on his face as he gripped his sword a
little tighter. "I hadn't planned on hurting you but you must
understand that sometimes accidents happen when one gets caught up in
the heat of battle. I am sure you can understand that. Let us
continue then." The old man slid his hand across his sword as a
white and blue aura covered the blade which began to pulse almost
like a heartbeat. The old man continued the fight as he took out
after Shell like another lightning bolt and unleashed an awe
inspiring display of swordsmanship upon him in a flurry of blade
strikes that seemed to chill Shells blade any time his sword clashed
with this newly empowered blade of magic. Shell continued to deflect
each strike as he dug deep within his mind to think of a way to win
this seemingly impossible duel. An image came to his mind and with a
second wind befalling the beaten down Shell, he was now determined to
win. Shell had parried one slash with a spectacular increase in his
speed and with an albeit, foolhardy yet well placed side kick to the
stomach of his rival, sent him flying back a moment. The man coughed
for a second to catch his breath as he though to himself "How in
the world did he get so fast all of a sudden? Who has this boy
trained with or where?" The old man got back up on his feet with
a chuckle “Now that was foolish lad. Ya could've lost your leg but
I guess that was something you were willing to part with.” Shell
quickly ran his hand along the blade of his sword that swelled up
with a dark crimson aura that swirled around the entire sword as the
old mans eyes closed a bit and he decided that it was time to end the
fight. Once the old man had opened his eyes up
again he thrust his sword into the ground and quickly poured all of
his mystical energies into his sword hands and somehow was able to
conjure seven additional swords of varying length and of different
designs than his own. Shell's eyes lit up with the thought that he
just might loose more than his pride in this battle as he held the
crimson drenched blade in a defensive manner. The blades began to
swirl and hover around the man emitting low hums, glowing in the same
blue fashion as his sword then he called out to Shell saying "This
battle is over my young friend." Shells mind began to race for a
moment in time as to how he could ever hope to win and then his
memories flickered, revealing quick flashes and images of something
that Shell thought might just help save his life. The blades swirling
around the old man, along with himself flew towards Shell at a speed
he couldn't fathom to match but he had to if he wanted to survive.
When the seven swords came withing striking distance of him, he took
what his mind had shown him in that brief point in time. The first
sword came in for a slash to his torso but was barely dodged, then
the second and third blades came for his arms. Dodging as best he
could while the blades managed to catch the tops of his shoulders.
The fourth through the seventh came striking in all directions but
were dodged with minimal cuts to his outer thighs and across his
nose. Shell quickly brought his sword up to his side just in time to
feel the clash of icy inertia that was pooled into his opponents
blade. The two blade auras mixed into a fierce concoction that
pulsed with a force that was so great it managed to push Shell back a
few feet while the old man withdrew from the offensive for a moment
to catch his breath. He marveled at how Shell was able to dodge most
of the blades while only receiving minor cuts from his technique as it was originally developed to end duels. His stunned manner quickly
turned to that of intrigue though as Shell gripped his right side.
Looking down, he noticed that there was a deep gash and that it was
more than likely from the blade being pushed up against him and
withdrawn quickly in one action. Somehow the old mans blade had slipped through a
crack in his armor. Shell could now feel the sharp pain in his side
as his over tunic became stained with red while blood trickled
down his leg, forming a pool in the snow. Shell plunged his sword into the ground and
used his newly freed hand to focus some of his energy and called
forth a small dancing flame but it was not the same dark flame seen
before. This flame was of a bright white and red color that felt
soothing to look upon by the old man. Shell then placed his hand over
his wound and the flame leapt onto his tunic, slowly burning away
the pooled blood and seeping into the gash. The wound began to mend
itself as Shell grimaced for a moment. Once the wound had closed and
healed itself, the flames were dispelled with a bright, white flash,
leaving no visible scars.
The old man raised an eyebrow of inquisition as he knew now that he was
not just dealing with some amateur swordsman traversing the plains at
evening during a blizzard. He knew something was different about this
boy. The boy had ample skill in his bones and potential to be a
knight, but things didn't feel quite right for him. The old man
wicked the blood off of his sword and the sheathed his blade. "Three
Arts of different origins and classes which takes not just skill but
sometimes years of training to even use correctly. You are able to
call upon them albeit not as quickly as some, yet for someone who
doesn't look a day over twenty seven you seem to have no trouble with
them and you claim you are no swordsman? You are not a knight by any
standards, you are no mage by my standards and I haven't seen a Mage
Swordsman of sorts in some time. Who are you boy and how do you know
of those techniques? Better question, who taught you?" Shell
cleaned off his blade and then sheathed it as he was done fighting.
He knew he had lost the fight and that in the long run, he was no
match for this old man. "My name isn't important or it shouldn't
be. I am a wandering no one. Why does it matter that I have learned
this arts anyway? Why don't you inform me of who you are and what you
truly mean or want?" The old man smirked a bit and began to
divulge a little bit of information about himself. "Since your
name isn't important than neither is mine my friend, and what I mean
and want to know is how you know techniques from opposing spectrums
that were used in the last great war over four hundred years ago that
are rarely seen today. Not to mention my trump card as you saw for
yourself, was designed in the last great war to end a duel in one
fell swoop. Usually against an enemy Commander or even a King but I
digress. Not many people should know how to defend against it. How is
it that you do is what begs me to question your origins or
intentions. Perhaps you are an assassin, playing opossum until the
moment is right?" Shell began to walk towards the man, wincing
slightly as he was still in some pain from the blow earlier. "I
guess I just got lucky to be honest" said Shell but when he
began to walk closer to the old man and then past him, Shell felt
very strange, almost angry. Who was this man? Why did his memories
flicker for a moment? How does he know so much? Shell passed the man
and he turned his head towards the old swordsman. "My name is
Shell. I'm not a swordsman or mage, just a traveler right now. In
regards to my skills, I learned them not too long ago from a friend
of mine. Was our small duel enough to quench your thirst?" The
old man turned towards Shell as he was passing and smiled. "No I
am afraid. Now you have captured my curiosity lad and I would love to
see what you are really made of but that will be for another day,
when we meet again. I don't think you realize it but you have great
potential, Shell the traveler, perhaps the next time we meet you can
best me with a blade or whatever you desire and see if this old mans
thoughts ring true." The two warriors started walking their own
separate ways, though both of them left with a curious twinge of the
other. Shell, wondering just who this old man really wash and how he
would know that they would meet again? The old man was left wondering
how an ancient technique was rendered nearly ineffective by some
random traveler who was not only able to use the forbidden dark arts
but also the arts of the Holy Knights of Arkoria and the mystic arts
of a mage. "That boy is something else. He could've easily
become a knight to the throne with that skill. He could also become a
threat to it just as easily" thought the old man as the snow
began to pick up and whip around the area, blanketing the crimson
laced snow as both of their bodies faded into the whiteout until
they could no longer see one another.
It felt like hours had flown by since Shells battle in the bitter
cold. Evening was now fast approaching and it would soon be dark
enough that one would not be able to see his own hand in front of his
face in the small white out that was slowly gaining strength with
each passing moment. Shell was beginning to worry while he continued
on through the plains up until he reached the edge of the forest
line. Seeing the great wall of dense trees brought some positive
thinking as he thought to himself "It shouldn't be that much
further." He looked back behind him, out into the open
plains now being consumed by the white out and wondered about the old
man. "That old codger's probably better off than I am. A nice
warm set of leathers and that blade arm of his, I seriously doubt
anything would come after him or try to do him harm." Shell eyes
widened as the sound of multiple howls from unseen beasts could be
heard off in the distance. Though Shell felt he was well enough away
from whatever made the noise, it still shook his bones for a moment,
recalling a past run in with something that sounded similar to what
he had just heard. "Perhaps it's best not to worry about the old
man right now." Shell gripped his sword and picked up his pace
from a walk to a light jog and entered the forest in hopes that he
would soon come upon Aelkeep and be out of reach of the beasts that
may have picked up his scent or tasted his frozen blood on the plains.
