Guest Stars:
Big Bro Skyver Edalia Vegsemd From scabbards, be free, blades from a party of three. The moment is nigh for a fierce frivolity. Assume a pose of each by choice. Limbs bent or outstretched, they exude one’s poise. Eyes quite mindful are teeming with calm. Savor the sight. Put to sleep one’s qualm. Breath the free air. Peace and strength accrue. One of the three clearly commands the rest...
“ M a i r u ! ” Forward and onward first, a battle-maiden in red. Swift as the winds she strides forth, leaving behind a sparkling scarlet smoke. The large gap between her and the one who declared for their contest to begin becomes smaller. From fifty yards to several feet, the woman is soon before him with such a commanding voice. Stomp the left foot and then the right. Yield to a pronounced pause. Bark out a sultry growl! The double-edge steel in her hand aims to bury a foot of it from the tip into the side of a belly barred of armor. Then again, none of them are garbed with anything thicker than tanned leather.
Belay being bedazzled by the swiftness and spectacle, purple-garbed fellow. Reply with a stomp back of the left foot. Follow it too soon with a vigorous stroke from a sharply-arched swing of his long single-blade blade in his right hand, skyward first before a drastic downfall ahead of him, aimed at the maiden. Nerves and muscles writhe something fierce but swift from hip to shoulder to wrist to deliver a more poignant response. The path of the blade comes with a bright thin ribbon of light carried from the hasty swordpoint. Meet on past the point and hammer down the threat.
C l a n k ! Recoil leaves the lady having a boot kneading down on the patch of short grass. Fingers and wrists sting. Step back and regain her center, though lowered her posture may be. Hazel eyes of the repeller meet those lovely sapphires of the repelled, the latter with her brows a bit furrowed. He marvels upon her beauty, a ruby-tressed maiden who stole the hearts of many men, even women, in their home world.
If only the roads that this glamorous lass took were paved with good intentions rather than a long life drowned in sins, she would make a woman of one’s dreams. She finds much solace in cleaning and agriculture, enough time with a knife and before a lit stove, great with younglings and would lay down her life to defend them, and as this bloke being a mere voyeur from back in the day, a goddess in bed. What more can another ask for? But his heart is ever-unyielding in its steel-strong faith towards another, a best friend since long ago and the dearest mother to his children. Gone is that dream of the former. The latter offers contentment he will not yield for more ambitious aspirations.
Enough fantasy, back to reality. The purple-garbed man takes a step forward. His strength is far from spent. A semblance of momentum from the deflecting strike is still there. He exact two swings upon her, leaping up and then a swish from his upper right to a slanted downward left. He barks his own freed breath, exuding how fierce and focused his feats have been. Aim to wound her nearest limbs, perhaps a sculpt agony onto her shoulder or her smooth cheek. Her heart beats quicker from his fearsome follow-up. She slides back the forward foot to face the man better. Jolt those arms and wrists. Let her sword get quickly reacquainted with his through a sharp twirl to parry away the harm and lessen the speed of the next quick strike.
The other fellow, a man in gray, dear little brother to the warrior in purple, makes haste halfway through that spectacular stride of the fearless woman. Close the gap, albeit slower than her who went on first. Elbows up. Hilt well-gripped. Green eyes are eagles upon his elder brother giving their former governess a bother. Shy of thirty yards away from the clashing pair, the man in gray comes to an abrupt stop. With a loud thud from the grassy earth, he commits to a wide mighty leap forward! Skyward with nerves aching to release the springing strength in him, the fall shall come bearing a fury that can split a person in half.
Now comes a greater struggle for the former defender turned aggressor. The corner of his eye did catch something bulky and onward before his two-hit follow-up towards the battle-maiden. She pushes herself to rise and advance a step. Tease the elder brother with a viper-swift poke aimed at his neck. Deflect this prod with a quick swat of his sword and retreating slide of his left foot. The red-haired sword maiden giggles. They exchange several strikes: half-swings and quick twirls to harm or deflect. The sweet song of the clashing steel rings throughout the green fields. She too is aware of an oncoming being that should truly remind both of them: there is another in this gathering.
The elder hops back shy of three yards, swinging up the long blade forward. Deflect and dilute the fury that comes with the powerful strike aimed at him, or so he hopes his deed will do. The woman steps back to avoid collateral. Her alluring blue eyes are aimed at the elder brother but are soon blocked by the bulk of rags in gray. The longsword gleaming from the murky noon sky seems so eager to make two pieces out of someone. Roar upon descent, man in gray!
C r a s h ! A dome of stormwind blasted away the gray-garbed fellow’s blade. The tip almost kissed the strip of grass beneath it. Both the sword-maiden and the purple-dressed man raise a forearm before their eyes. Each wall of limb denies any specks of dirt and debris that may have been hurled from this explosive hysteria caused by that plummet. The performer of that feat narrowed his eyes, nearly shutting them close. As the madness of such a strenuous feat subsides, all of them retreat to a respective stance, the man in gray taking a deep breath.
“You took your time,” teased the woman while she is behind the younger brother.
“I was scouting for an opening,” he responded while unaware that he is obscuring her vision of his elder brother.
“Of course, you are,” she chirped, ripe with snarkiness in her delivery, perhaps those pretty lips squirmed to reinforce her snide.
“Would you rather have me just sit this one out?” he parted her way to fend off her dismissal while also turning his head slightly back.
Scoff with a raised brow, the lone blade from several yards away.
“Save for another time this desire to flirt with each other,” the man in purple called out to them, withholding a smirk.
The air howls quickly at a fierce downward swing of his single-edge blade to his right.
“Our pastime had just begun.”
The once bickering pair obliges with silence at first. They take a deep breath all at once. The woman is strafing to her left and the man in gray does the same but to his right. Widen the gap for a pincer approach. The elder brother keeps his chest forward while taking a stroll forward, eyes upon his dear brother and the fair battle-maiden. Swords are raised either to the heavens or pointed towards the mark ahead. Their postures are impeccable, stressing not only a sense of commitment but the grace of a few who have bathed well in combat for ages.
The pair aiming for a pincer attack advances upon the one who leaped away. This time, the scarlet smoke is joined by a haze of gray mist even if distant from each other. Limbs bend or stretch with a few muscles feeling a bit of strain. Boots stomp on the grass after each quick flight. Hearts thump loudly. Blood flowing through the veins goes warmer than before. The elder brother tightens the grip on the hilt while raising his fearless ally to the side, outstretched to exude the form of someone who does not cower upon the odds. Caution should still be practiced. He is among warriors who shaped their world for the better, not pitiful novices.
Young brother and former governess soon lunge their respective blade upon him. They stride towards him, each aiming to deliver a vigorous slash through and past him. Pause that mellow walk. His foothold on the grassy plain is firm. The raised blade is widely and violently swept with one hand right to left before him. Re-engage and repel the incoming danger in time. Steels sing again!
Forward with poise, deflect or attack. Parry or riposte, strength and speed should not lack. Doubt is unwelcome, a blight to dispel, lest a limb will be lost if one fails to repel. Let it stretch through conflict, this eventful hour. Even if one loses, the bond will not sour. While relieved of duty, relive a pastime. The Warriors Three clash on while still in their prime.
