Testing the ancient forms (open challenge to a Dark Sider)

[Mr Dust]

Mr. Dust stands alone in a clearing, saber in hand. He has already removed his trenchcoat, but he holds his bowler in his right hand. He ignites his saber, raising it in salute to his imaginary parter. He begins moving through the ancient fencing style taught him by his father. As he moves, he detects a presence approaching.

It would seem that I may have a true opponent after all...

[Valirion Thorn]

:: Valirion saluted the human before him, this would be good. He wanted to see blood along the floor but after seeing this person fight he wanted a duel, pure honor. He approached and hailed the soon to be opponent.::
Sir, are you here to fight or practise?
:: Valirion seemed to not have a sowrd or armor. He would like to see the man's reaction.::

[Mr Dust]

Mr. Dust bows to the entrant, but keeps his saber at the ready.

I am here to practice. But, if you decide to attack, I shall defend myself.

He steps back into a fencing posture, sword outstretched, hat in his right hand behind him.

[Valirion Thorn]

:: Valirion took this as an invitation, if that was what it really was. If not, he would be a mistaken death nonetheless and Thorn would give his amends later. He smiled a bit, no weapon in hand and no visible armor... yet. Val held his hand up.::

One moment then.

:: Valirion bent over as the armor within him twisted out of the jagged line down his spine. It grew up and out and slowly covered his body, blood slowly dripping onto the ground. The armor covered him like a slimy exoskeleton, that quivered like skin every once and a while. And now for his wonderful sword, an old friend, implanted within him since birth. The heard it's scream for blood within his mind. He put the now clawed hand to the back of his head and from his spine shot forth the hilt. He opened his mouth for a moment, silently screaming, as he drew the twisted swrod from his body. He drew it finally out and slung it once, the blood slipping off easily, it twisted and formed it's normal state, an eight foot long kris sword, and how they both loved pain, the armor enjoying thepain to Thorn while the sword savoring every moment of cutting open another's flesh. The eye on the hilt slowly swerved as it studied the next opponent.::

Your name sir? I require it so that I might remember it upon the chance of your death.

:: Val was serious, despite his twisted nature for killing, this was to be an honorable duel for him, he would not give into the thirst of the armor, or the hunger of the sword. It would be him and him alone here.::

[Mr Dust]

Mr. Dust's brows raise in interest as he watches the man's dramatic transformation. The armor may prove difficult, but it's bulk should slow his movement slightly. As well, the blade's size would make an errant swing harder to recover from. On the other hand, one good shot would very likely cleave Mr. Dust in half. He would have to be quick.

The name is Dust. Mr. Dust.

Dust bows slightly, never taking his eyes from the man. He replaces his bowler on his head and shortens his stance slightly. It will increase his speed and mobility to tighten his base. He steps slowly forward, ready to dodge at a moment's notice.

[Valirion Thorn]

:: Valirion sighs... dust, man came from dust and so became dust when he died, but not Valirion, he had been promised immortality soon.::
And I am Valirion Thorn, a name to remember later.
:: With that he sighed again and felt the armor begin to prepare for battle. It attached itself to his real skin and he felt his nerves stretching outwards, it was like old times again, the armor just like his normal skin, he felt no different. But the sword, ah, it now screamed once more with anticipation of seeing someone cut in half, chopped into little pieces and such. Valrion began to circle his opponent, his armor shifting every once in a while like a muscle spasm. All this man had to do was attack and it would be over, at least Valirion figured it would be. That was how most honor duels had gone, one attack finished it then and there, and that didn't mean it was only going to be Valirion as the victor.::

[Mr Dust]

Mr. Dust matches the man's movements, circling with him. His thin saber will not be able to block a swing of the giant sword. However, some applied leverage would come in handy. For example, a blade of that length would be succeptible to force applied to its tip... it's length would magnify a small force on the tip into a large force for the wielder to contend with. Mr. Dust continues his circle, and when the moment seems right, darts forward with his saber. He intersects the man's sword with the middle of his saber and pushes forward. He rushes into the small opening, slicing at the man's right arm as he continues the rush. He has no desire to remain within the sword's radius for any length of time.

[Valirion Thorn]

:: The slice hits his arm and he is knocked off balance for a moment but then he follows into the form of his blood knight code and remembers the drills that were hammered into his mind. He followed the movement of the man and executed the form Blood meets Water. He moved like a liquid as his sword shrinked in size to a dagger, allowing him to manuever it easier before the stab. He stepped left and as he seemed to take another step he was suddenly by Mr. Dust. His sword increased in length as he heaved it about in a slanted 180 degree slash that would normally cleave a man in half. The armor hissed as it mended the blood seeping from his arm. It hadn't struck skin but had cut the armor enough for it's blood to seep out.::

[Mr Dust]

As the Dark Sider's blade seems to magically change shape, Mr. Dust is momentarily caught off guard. He drops into a back roll slightly slower than he would have liked. The sword catches his right shoulder in a glancing blow, leaving a small but jagged gash. Fortunately, his saber is one-handed.

He regains his feet and darts in quickly, flicking the tip of his saber at the man's right hand. He nicks the man's palm, just under the thumb, before quickly retreating out of range.