@jake_malcom: @tenjin:
No later then seconds after he pulled his hand away from the looming metal doors of the monastery, did they begin to creak open and reveal the desolate temple that lay within. As he stood at the threshold of the compound, the Wahrer Herrscher began to question how apt of a term monastery really was. The title invoked a sense of spirituality and serenity, after all, it was supposed to be inhabited by holy men. Yet this... this was not that. It wore the facade of tranquility well, however it was little more than that, a guise. The way the shadows moved across the walls, the way they whispered. Beneath the calm exterior, he could feel something more sinister, a growing presence. Lurking just below the edge of perception.
Even as the doors lay open Arthur waited for a moment before entering, hesitant to step the yard straight away. He never thought of himself as a coward, however, he still couldn't help to find the temple before him to be quite unnerving. Nevertheless, he had come from quite a ways away, failing to enter simply wasn't an option anymore. So he braced himself and walked past the doorways and towards the courtyard.
Finally behind man-made walls and shielded from some of the harsh winds Arthur pulled down his neckwarmer, watching as his breath turned to steam. Scratching his beard the man began to look more closely at his surroundings. Now that he had entered the monastery proper he could more accurately decipher the faint calling he had felt from the door. It was urging him, telling him to come closer, to head deeper. As any sane man might be, he was hesitant, however, he had already decided to enter the abyss and there was no going back. The only exit now was to go through, to emerge stronger than when he came. So with a hardened resolve, he moved into the center and came face to face with the head of house.
As Tenjin approached The Kindled One, Arthur could feel the man's gaze probing him. However, he was unaware of how truly invasive the man's cybernetic stare really was. Every inch of him was probed, every aspect of his past would be effortlessly displayed, a proverbial open book. With the right scanning software, it wouldn't be difficult to deduce he bore no meta-natural gifts. His genetic makeup showed no signs of abnormality, nor did his muscle density appear any different than an average male. Ambrosius Pendragon was, undeniably, a mortal man.
However, when it came to scanning the box he carried with him, the results were less transparent. On the contrary, the case seemed unwilling to part with any information regarding what was stored within. Yet it could not stop the thermal scan from picking up on heat signatures radiating from the clasps on the case. Hinting at some degree of electronic security.
His eyes tracking the masked man before him, a small smile briefly danced across Arthur's lips as he began to realize the implications of the man's words. He had expected some sort of trial, and given the situation, initiation by combat fit the bill perfectly. So it was a good thing he'd come more than prepared.
Dropping his case to the floor with a loud slam he deftly entered eight digits into the lock, and as The Black Tiger reached into the shadows and unsheathed his blade, Arthur unveiled his. Bringing forth an ornate gold and lapis scabbard from the case, before he took a firm grasp of its hilt, withdrawing a glimmering silver blade with one strong pull. Drakengard, The Root of All Legends, in all of its glory. Even now, within the hands of a mere man, the blade seemed to exude power. Radiating but a fragment of the energy it contained.
"I've never been one to take the easy road. Today will be no different."
As the man rushed him, Arthur responded instinvtivly, adopting the left Ochs high guard in order to defend himself. When it came to longsword fencing Ochs guards had two primary forms. Left Ochs and right Ochs. Each had their own uses, however, both were primarily defensive tools. Taken up by holding the swords next to one's head with the blade slanted down towards one's opponent. No matter which form of Ochs one assumed, both required the right hand be placed closest to the hilt. Putting it in a position of strength in right Ochs, for powerful parries and counter-attacks, and in a more stable position in left Ochs, for guarding. They were simple guards, however, while somewhat limited, they offered consistency. Switching between the two was fluid and could be woven in between slashes with proper footwork, a style the Progeny of the Heroic Age gravitated towards.
Lacking in superior speed or strength, he tended to fight in a more traditionalist way. Forgoing feats of acrobatics to keep his focus on one thing, staying grounded. Losing balance against a strong foe meant death, as such he had to rely on two things. Simple yet consistent foot play, and the power of Drakengard.
Angling his blade down to block the first strike he felt the force of the blow flow through his blade and rattle his arms. His foe hit hard, very hard, and that was merely a one-handed slash. Taking the full brunt of an attack such as that would be disastrous, and frankly blocking it wasn't much better. Still, while the attack had pained him, he was still capable of fighting.
As his opponent flowed into a stronger diagonal chop, Arthur's right foot glid back as his sword crossed his body into right Ochs. He couldn't simply block the high strike like last time, he'd have to redirect it. To deflect the strike away from his head and in a safer direction. Using the side of his blade, he created a slope, one capable of guiding the oncoming attack away from his face. A long shhiiinnnkkk echoed throughout the courtyard, the unmistakable sound of two blades scraping against each other.
The purpose of the maneuver was two-fold. While he was foremost trying to defend himself, he couldn't simply react forever, winning meant he had to strike back. This was where the second purpose came into play, using the power of the man's attack to do half his work for him. By putting pressure onto his sword and forcing it back with such a powerful strike, it set up the conditions for a perfect counterattack. With luck, his deflection would had worked and his opponent's sword would be too out of position to gaurd. Along with that, Arthur's blade was already cocked back and ready to strike. So with one strong twist of his right wrist and the pull of his left hand, he swung Drakengard down diagonally. With the intent to leave his blade wedged inside of his opponent's shoulder with a sickening crunch.
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