The Clashing of Swords

[Sigil Warden 467]

TIMELOST SAVANNAH

 

Atmospheric Conditions: 77 degrees Fahrenheit. Dry. Low wind, gusts to 6mph. Clear visibility, moderate cloud cover, distant thunder.
Terrain: Firm earth, medium and tall grasses. Occasional trees and shrubbery.
Notable features: Ruins of limed stick-and-mud buildings, local tribespeople.
Rules: No powers (except for arrival and departure if desired). Steel on steel. Mundane weaponry and equipment. No firearms. First blood wins.

 

---

- Wake Me Up -

 

A man stood apart from the cluster of leaning, cracked earthworks, his visage scrunched up in studious scrutiny. Tousled from the light winds, his brown hair sat in a mess atop his head as he scratched at it absently. He looked... lost.

And indeed, the Baron Kelvin was lost. He needn't have been surprised, though the locals certainly were at seeing a European man walk out of the savanna with naught but the clothes on his back. Dust had already started caking into his trimmed goatee, and he frowned. There was no way this was coming out of his airy cotton shirt without beating it like a rug. The quilted, gambeson-like vest wasn't faring much better, stained yellow-red with the clay of the dry earth. At least the light-colored fabrics would not fry him under the open sun, against which he returned the wide-brimmed, peacock feathered hat of felt in his right hand to his head.

He nodded in appreciation at the primitive, yet still well-decorated, glazed tribal buildings to the tribesmen, but the handful of them had withdrawn beyond earshot at the sight of the weaponry hanging from his belt. At his left hip hung a long, wooden-cased scabbard, from which protruded an exquisite wire basket hilt, the grip of braided silver whose tarnish testified to long use in the hand. On his right, a polished teak handle, riveted with steel and gold about the knob, emerged from a unique, clasp-fastened holster, though its nature remained a mystery to his fearful observers. Another blade of some sort, about two handspans in length, lay flat to his left thigh, forming an interesting cradle between the grips upon which the nobleman casually rested his arm as he surveyed his surroundings. Over his shoulder, a round-bossed buckler reflected the sun like a lens, fastened to its own bookstrap.

Kelvin whet his lips, feeling them crack as he grimaced. He could not shake the feeling that he had been brought forth for a purpose, as he had many a time... but it was rare that it hadn't yet made itself known. The wary-eyed, ochre-haired women whispering between themselves at the white devil were a conquest to be taken at leisure, not a calling. The Baron stared out at the distant clouds on the horizon, and wondered if their thunder would bring what he was seeking.

---

@SyntHecate

Edited October 25, 2020 by Sigil Warden

[SyntHecate 26]

A distinct pop, and then the words "Well, this is a singularity I haven't looked over yet."

The cyan-haired female looked around at the scenery. Quite interestingly, it looked a lot like that one realm called Unlimited Blade Works. Except no swords and actual civilization. Sure, some of the locals might have been spooked by her sudden appearance, but Mizuki didn't care much. It was a singularity anyway. Whatever she did here wouldn't carry over to the other timelines.

She was pretty much unarmored, being in her coat. The coat was of some cotton fabric, not that it mattered. The surroundings were rather cooling to her.

Having being accustomed to fighting in a plain and mostly deserted realm, she knew there was someone else here who was out of place in the timeline. Her blade- a traditional hand-made katana of with an intricately designed tsuba (hand guard) and a red silk tsuka-ito (hilt wrap), the tsuka-ito being clean, yet the slightest of bloodstains on the hilt testifying that she had at least drawn blood with it, the saya (scabbard) hiding the blade from view. Looking around she was easily able to identify the Baron quite quickly, inspecting him from head to weapon. Her gaze remained on the weapon for a while, before returning to eye contact.

"You aren't from here, are you?"

Edited October 26, 2020 by SyntHecate

[Sigil Warden 467]

- Timekiller -

---

"Can't say that I am... though I am also hesitant to say that I am not."

The nobleman doffed his hat in greeting at the sudden arrival, unperturbed by the manner by which the girl appeared out of thin air. The haze of realities was always a veil to be folded in on itself. "Good m-" He paused, looking up at the sky, squinting to determine the sun's position. "-afternoon, miss. I am the Lord Kelvin, second Baron of my name. It is a pleasure to make your acquaintance." His eyes mirrored the dance across his counterpart, lingering on her hair and the silk wrappings of her eastern armament.

 

"I must say... your beauty is superceded only by that of the sword at your side - shall we cross blades and show these savages a glint of civilization?" Kelvin shrugged away the buckler, tossing it into the dust by his feet, and drew forth the length of his rapier from its scabbard. Soundlessly, he presented the diamond profile of Honor Amongst Men to the rays of the sun, smiling as the brilliant steel reflected two spears of light from both edges onto the ceramic frescoes. Three and a half feet in length, he nonetheless seemed to find the sword's weight comfortable, as he settled it into his right glove, and let the razor-pointed tip bob among the seed pods of the arid grass at his booted feet. He remained at ease, with his shoulders relaxed, and tucking a thumb into his belt with the offhand, gave his partner ample time to respond to his implied challenge.

[SyntHecate 26]

"If that is what you wish, I have no argument against it." She unsheathed her katana, revealing it to be one with Unokubi-Zukuri blade style, the two blood grooves on each side of the blade a telltale sign of this. The blade itself was keenly sharpened, the grooves also bearing minor bloodstains, while the blade was polished to a glimmering shine. The blade was clay-covered 'jewel steel' made of iron sand, as was traditional with the Japanese, and the whole sword was a total length of 3.4', little matter with how katanas are two-handed weapons anyways. She took a standard 'seigan no kamae' stance, kicking off her shoes, lifting her heels, right foot in front of the left, and the blade slightly away from herself, pointing upwards diagonally to her opponent's chin. With that, she was ready and prepared for her enemy.

"That blade you hold speaks beauty as well. You've used it well, from what I can observe of it's quality." Even without the knowledge of fencing techniques, she nodded in acknowledgement of the sword's build. Every swordsman learns to recognize a sword from the hand of a remarkable smith as they use more and more blades over time. "I will be honoured to fight against a blade of such keen standards."

[Sigil Warden 467]

- En Garde! -

---

"Amen."
So be it.

Kelvin roused himself to readiness, lifting the point of his rapier level with the woman's chest as he himself turned profile. His right foot facing forward, his left back and nearly perpendicular - he scuffed out the dust to make sure his footing was sound. Presenting as small a target to his opponent as he could, he advanced cautiously the few steps that closed the gap from conversation to the edge of engagement. Raising his gloved left to his chest, palm out, he exhaled loudly... then smacked the front third of the katana with the right flat of his blade, extending it inward past the vertical guard in the same motion. The steel chimed, a greeting of East and West in a brief kiss.

At this distance, he was only going to be tickling empty air, but testing her resolve was a good opener. After all... he could just as well have lunged in with the attack and hemmed out the eastern blade from retaliation altogether. Kelvin had to know if she knew.

[SyntHecate 26]

Mizuki reacted instinctively, her katana pushing the rapier’s blade off-target, before she stepped back, recognising the lack of range in his attack. He was toying with her, testing her patience. As she had been many times, and she had reciprocated oftentimes as well. However, she was holding a katana. Now was no time for flashy, stylish moves, nor berserk, wide lunges.

With calculated, swift steps, she closed the distance, yelling out while her right foot slammed down into the ground as she committed into a rapid downward diagonal slice, then almost instantly back up in the same manner, then sideways, while keeping her stance. None of her cuts were pulled; all of them done with unrelenting intent. Her flurry aimed at multiple points on his torso, her explosive counterattack (rather, riposte, you might say) a visible result of repetition, as she handled the sword like an archer does his bow, accustomed with muscle memory, the weight of the sword balanced with her arms well as she took each swing.

To her, it was a matter of honour: The West used their blades for duels, inducing flair into their swings against singular opponents to gain respect. The East used their blades for that, and war. Swordsmanship was how well you could handle a sword, and not how nicely you looked as you took a swing. You only had one motive of unsheathing your sword in the East- the intent to draw blood.

[Sigil Warden 467]

- Like Lightning -

---

The Baron's eyes widened under the brim of his feathered hat, but not out of surprise; rather, he felt the thrill of battle rushing over him as Mizuki took the initiative. She had the eye to see his paltry test for what it was, and reciprocated with deadly intent. He was noncommital, and prepared - let it not be denied!

If there was one true limitation to a sword designed primarily to cut, it was the entirely reasonable notion that it would be employed that way. Raising the blade, starting in the shoulders, favoring the dominant side - all to be executed in one motion with the forward stabilizing step as it came cleaving down, making use of the full power of both arms. No one would want to endure such a blow - unless they had a sly intuition of how it might be subverted.

"Marvelous!"

With a sparking crash, the katana's blade gouged into the base of the silvered handguard as Kelvin leaned in slightly and rotated his wrist counter-clockwise 90 degrees, the blade turning parallel, then dipping towards the ground and its tip scraping under the girl's tsuba in a blur. Pivoting about his right toe, he slid harshly forward on his left leg, and his left hand pressed out with its gloved palm against the flat of the rapier halfway, reinforcing the parry and soaking the power of the arrested blow sideways, away from his body. And that was where his expertise truly shone through.

Exploiting the bind of Mizuki's unrestrained blow in the upper quarter, his cantilevered blade locked the harder steel of the katana's edge into place so long as he continued to push. And push he did, sinews flexing in his upper back, in his waist and forearms, as the completion of the motion by his left hand brought the point of his blade in just under the girl's armpit. From two points of control now, a one-handed blade could at this juncture have possibly been twisted from the grasp - but he didn't play dice against the grip of two hands. Instead, he translated the completion of his body momentum into a lateral shove, throwing the cyan-haired beauty imperiously backward and off-balance to her left.

Edited October 27, 2020 by Sigil Warden
Edited because I am so good at swords I forgot which part I was binding halfway through

[SyntHecate 26]

"Nnh-" Almost losing her footing, she swiveled her right foot back, stumbling a distance to the left. Her blade tilted sideways across her body in a defensive position as she regained her footing. Having a blade smaller than hers deflect her wider katana astounded her for a fair bit, as she acknowledged the speed of the lighter blade. It seemed that wide, strong attacks were far from optimal in this situation. Neither could she grab the blade away from him, his dagger a danger at such close range. That way, she felt she had only one solution left.

She let go of her katana with her right hand, pulling it back against her right coat pocket, and swinging it with a flourish at him. A single, thick needle flew from her hand and at the Baron- a steel bo-shuriken. Taking advantage of the small surface area of his blade, the projectile blade would have been impossible to deflect safely with it, while Mizuki herself rushed forward after the release to follow through, her hands on the katana again, ready to slice at him should he dodge the projectile.

[Sigil Warden 467]

- Like Lightning -

---

Mizuki would learn the price of the commitment she had sought from the Baron. After all, how could Kelvin call himself a master swordsman, if he didn't utilize the openings he had purposely created?

Sweat dripped from his brow as it furrowed in concentration, completing the sequence from parry to riposte to attack. He had taken back the tempo, and in the waif's moments of vulnerability he was perfectly positioned to exploit it. With his right arm chambered back and his left side forward supporting his blade, his body was like a precision coiled spring - which erupted into motion even as the girl was stumbling for balance.

Under normal circumstances, such a linear lunge was an extremely risky prospect, especially on a passing step from the rear foot - but his opponent was off balance and seeking disengagement, even if for a second or two. Her blade position was changing, her grip weakened... quite literally on the backfoot. In this moment, the explosive power of his thrust, propelled from the arm and followed through with the driving step of his right leg, doubled his reach in a single instant. Guided on its path by trailing fingers of his left hand like a discarding sabot, the diamond-pointed tip of Damascus steel lanced forth into the closest viable point of contact... Mizuki-chan's right shoulder joint. There was little doubt that the cruel barb would split coat, muscle and cartilage with equal ease, passing straight through to the other side if his aim was true.

But for all his expertise, the nobleman had not read all of her cues correctly, focused instead on her stance and blade. What he had thought was a reflexive cringe away from his shove, was actually fishing for a response in a pocket. Whipped underhand, the shuriken nail lacked the power of an overhand, dedicated throw - and any followthrough was likely arrested by the rapier piercing the throwing arm - but nonetheless the ploy was well... underhanded, if also clever.

Succumbing to his own reflexive surprise, the Baron would recoil suddenly from his strike several sliding paces, glancing down long enough to let his left hand dislodge the spike from the oblique layers of packed linen near his kidney. Feeling into the torn fabric with his gloved fingers, he tried to determine if the sensation of impact had left a bruise... or if it had indeed punctured in far enough to draw blood. He hadn't felt a prick... but that didn't necessarily mean it hadn't.

[SyntHecate 26]

Mizuki yelled out as her arm was injured, the wound starting to bleed prominently. With her free hand, she pulled the rapier blade out and stumbled back as she examined the injury. The blade had obviously done damage to many layers of muscle in her arm, and it would take a while for her to reverse the damage using her minor chronokinesis later. Quite a long while. And her coat would need stitching.

That aside, she looked at the Baron with what can only be described as utter disbelief. His movements were fast, possibly even so if they had used the same blades, his parrying having quickly put her in a vunerable state, and the strikes with his blade were terribly accurate. Needless to say, she respected the Baron for his skill with his blade. Obviously, he was more experienced than her in duel situations, his blade also being better suited for the occasion than hers. Rapiers were designed for duels, allowing for quick and precise attacks for singular targets. Katanas were designed to cut with stronger, devastating cuts, to bring hordes down in war. And parrying the rapier was barely possible.

"I've a long way to go before I get accustomed to the notion of dueling, nnh..." Watching the Baron pull the bo-shuriken out of his protective gear, she contemplated asking if he was alright, but that would contradict herself, so she just hung her head and cleaned her wound, slightly resenting that she resorted to throwing a hidden blade in her pocket meant for desperate situations. Was it a desperate situation then? She mulled it over amidst fading adrenaline and heavy breaths.

[Sigil Warden 467]

- Of The East Wind I Shall Not Speak -

---

As the glow of battle faded, the Baron gave Mizuki room to tend to her wound, lowering the point of his blade back to water the thirsty grasses of the savanna with droplets of freshly drawn blood. His demeanor returned to stoic pleasantry, though it was colored by an air of apologetic regret.

"Forgive the fierceness of the strike... not all those who wander the straits of time are as they seem."

Producing a rag from his pockets, he wiped Honor Amongst Men free of its stain, and returned it to its scabbard before drawing nearer. He indicated that the cyan-haired girl might sit on a nearby rock, and knelt nearby, offering her a flask of fiery brandy and with it, the spike she had thrown at him.

"Have a drink, it will help. You can keep the flask, if you'd like." His eyes turned away, scanning the terrain - the locals stood even further than before, hiding behind their meagre structures, mouths slightly open in shocked staring. Good. He didn't need them mobbing in whilst he was distracted. "It was a pleasure to cross blades with you, however briefly. Take care on your journey." The Baron Kelvin straightened, suddenly gaining decades in age as his back creaked. Grimacing, he rubbed at the base of his spine, sighing.

"... you never told me your name." came his final remark, but he was no longer looking at her. The thunderheads were rolling in swiftly from the east, bringing with them a foul wind.

[SyntHecate 26]

“Just call me Mizuki. Kaneshiro Mizuki.” She watched the storm come in, and sighed. It seemed the singularity had been solved, and was about to collapse. Looking at the Baron, she walked up to him, and patted his shoulder with her good arm. Past or present, she always ended her encounters with the same words:

”If it’s anything, I’ll remember this.”

And so she left the singularity.