Don't You Know Who I Think I Am? [Sher]

For a moment he thought he would have to fight another novice, or even worse that he would have to face someone who had never picked up a sword before. If he would have to stoop so low to get another opponent, he may as well hang up his sword and call it quits for the day. He would have hated to do that, though, being as he never backed down from a challenge, even if that challenge was trying to find a challenge.

That was when he spotted her, brown hair and dark eyes with a confident grin on her face. Well, he had wanted confidence. Rolex scanned her, green eyes giving away nothing as he took in her form and posture. He noted how easily she held her sword, the dull metal scattering light along it's length. It wasn't as if it was an extention of her arm, like his sword was for him, but it was obvious that she had practiced a lot. Her strides were smooth and balanced, showing off more of her training. He couldn't help but smirk slightly, the corners of his mouth lifting just a touch. This was the type of person he was looking for; confident, good with a blade, ready for a hard match. When she looked into his eyes, the confidence sitting there, even as she faced him, made his smirk grow lopsided the right corner of his mouth rising higher than the left.

Her voice, as steady and confident as her eyes, reached him. "Care to accompany me in a fight?" She thought she was ready for him, he could tell. He also knew that she had at least heard of his reputation, if not seen him spar with someone else. His eyes took in the relaxed way she placed the tip of the sword against one palm as she held the hilt in the other, and how she kept from even nicking herself on the point. These swords, designed for training, weren't exactly the sharpest of things but they didn't have rounded edges either.

He turned his head to nod at his trainer, who came over and looked at the both of them. Rolex saw that his trainer was sizing up the girl, and knew it wasn't for his benefit, but hers. If he thought she would be in over her head in picking a fight with Rolex then he would call it off. It seemed that he thought she would be able to handle herself, and he launched into his pre-spar lecture. "Alright you two. Before we begin, I need to make sure you understand a couple of things." He paused and looked at them both to make sure they were listening, Rolex just nodded slightly to tell him to go on. "First, this is only a training match, under no circumstances are you to complete a killing blow. Second, to prevent serious injury, you will be wearing light armor." Rolex rolled his eyes. The "armor" being referred to was actually two semi-thick, Capitol-designed pieces of cloth that would only keep a career from being chopped into pieces. It did nothing to protect against bruises and sometimes people had even gotten cuts through them. He didn't put much faith in them.

His trainer ignored the eye roll and stated the final requirement for the match, causing Rolex to mouth the words along with him. "Finally, you will use only your sword, any use of your fists or feet will cause you to forfeit the match. The winner is the one to be in position for a killing blow first, or the one who causes the other one to give up. Now, time to suit up and then we can get to the match." Rolex made his way over to the "armor" he would be using, gently placing his sword on the bench beside it. Slipping into the fabric and doing up the number of zippers and Velcro pieces, he turned to see if the other girl was ready. He picked up his sword and walked over to the center of the ring of people before twirling his sword in a complicated pattern as he waited for his opponent. The blade he held was his own, given to him by his trainer for being such a quick study. It was a hand-and-a-half sword, made for his size and build. If he was ever to go into the Games, he would like to have this sword sent to him through sponsors, since he wouldn't be allowed to bring it into the arena himself. His gaze was on the girl he was about to face, a bored smile on his lips. Do you know what you're in for, girl?

He hadn't realized he had spoken his thoughts until he heard the girl reply. She was watching him with narrowed eyes, as though taking mental notes on him. "It depends, are you?" Then she sneered at him, making his smile shift into an amused grin. He watched her, still relaxed, as she raised her sword and took up the starting position. Giving his trainer a nod to signal they were ready, he stepped forward to take up the mirror position to the girl. However, his sword wasn't raised as hers was, instead it was held a little higher than his waist, the tip facing the ceiling. He was ready, even if it didn't look like it.

Now his trainer approached them, standing a couple steps back from them in order to inspect both of them. Affirming to himself that they were ready, he nodded once and took an addition step back, leaving plenty of room for them to make their first move. Out of the way now, he raised a hand as a signal that the match was about to start. "Begin." With that he dropped his hand, meaning that it was time for Rolex to move.

Out of the starting gate, he was either the first or last person to make a move according to whatever strategy he was using at the time. For this fight he would strike first, then attempt to deal with whatever counter move she would make. He was going to wear her down quickly, then take her when she was exhausted.

[dice=200+1000]
Shallow cut on right calf - 3.5

He had only hit her lightly, but it was enough to be sore. It probably wouldn't leave much of a bruise, if any, but it would cause her momentary trouble. Little hits like this might take longer to defeat her with, but it would be easier for him to dodge her blows if he didn't leave himself open to attempt a hard strike. Besides, every little bit counts.

She was quick, he had to give her credit for that. Able to wield a sword well, and quite accurately, she had managed to hit him and hit him hard. The sleeve of his "armor" was sliced neatly and blood welled from an inch long cut on his bicep. No big deal, though, he had fought with a broken wrist before. The pain from his wound was pushed to the back of his mind as he searched for a spot to attack. He tested spots with quick jabs, smiling as she deflected them. She was good, but she was wasting her energy, those strikes weren't meant to wound.

Now he would go for a real blow, waiting for the right moment before he would swing in and hope to deal a heavy hit. He gauged where her weak spot might be, then looked to a different spot. It was one of his oldest practices, looking at a place he could attack while actually going for a different, weaker, spot. Alright, he was set. Now to strike.

[dice=200+1000]
Miss - 0.0

Damn it. He had over shot his mark, stabbing at a place that she wasn't occupying. What was wrong with him for this fight? Was he loosing his touch? No, he couldn't let one miss shake him. Perhaps it was his arm, the blow she had dealt was harsh. Turning his head momentarily to gaze at the cut, wondering how bad it actually was. He sighed as he saw that the blood dripping from it had turned part of the sleeve red. Looks like this was worse than I thought. Oh well, I'll just give this arm a break. And so he did, shifting his sword from one had to the other, so he now gripped the hilt in his left hand. It was thanks to having sprained his wrist a few years ago, and his trainer's insistence that he continue training that he could now wield a sword with either hand.

It would require a small shift in position, and a tiny change in strategy but those were things he had trained himself to do automatically. If he ever did enter the Games, he would have the benefit of being able to fight even after losing an arm or hand.

She had come at him again, come to strike the blow he had failed to make. Unfortunately for her, he was just as good with his left arm. He watched her trust forward, raising his sword to meet hers before the metal could come close enough to cut him again. It would not be so easy for her to wound him, not after his awareness had been risen. She would have to be quicker next time, if she wanted to deal another blow. Waiting, his gaze remained on her as she balanced herself. Watching her eyes carefully, he noted where she was going to strike. As she went in for the slash he skipped backward, staying light on his feet and out of the path of the blade. Just like before, he had read her and was able to out speed her.

Now it was time for his strike, hopefully this time to be more successful than the last. Another miss would make his skill seem a joke. If it was a block, it wouldn't be as bad but it wasn't going to demonstrate his real ability. He had been given this sword as a gift, it had been meant to reward him for his skill with a blade. It was time he earned this gift.

[dice=200+1000]
Deep Gash on Chest - 9.5

Aha, now that was a strike to be proud of. His blade penetrated her defenses, knocking aside her blade in order to slice across her chest. The fabric peeled away under his sword's edge, slicing into the shirt and skin beneath. Retracting his sword arm and regaining a fully balanced posture, he watched his opponent. Seeing the extent of the wound he had made he wondered if perhaps he shouldn't have hit her so hard. If the cut on his bicep was anything to go by, she was probably in a lot of pain. He hoped he hadn't wounded her too badly, but there wasn't much he could do about it now. The damage was done.

She wasn't smiling anymore. He hadn't expected her to be, now that he had dealt as hard of a hit as he had. Her eyes were narrowed and her mouth was set in a grim line. She looked down and cringed at the wound on her chest. If she wasn't able to handle the sight of blood, she wouldn't be able to last in the Games. But this wasn't the Games, and they weren't tributes. Surely he would be doing alright in the Games if he had been reaped. Or perhaps he would be one of the first few killed.

Either way, he knew he would have to be ready for her to go after him more fiercely than before. Sure enough, here she came, scanning him in a similar fashion to how he had done in reverse before. Any moment now, she would strike. And she did, moving forward and raising her sword as though to hit his shoulder. He lifted his own blade to meet hers, the metal clanging as the two weapons came together. He could see her straining against him, and knew that in a moment she would push his sword aside.

To lessen the damage to himself, he lessened his pressure against her blade and allowed her force to push him into a spin. Had he stayed in one spot, she would have done a lot more damage. As it was, she sliced a small rip in the fabric over his back. He wasn't sure how bad the damage was, but it hadn't pierced the skin. Finishing his turn, he looked back to see her standing there, scowling at him.

He flashed her a quick grin, then, leaving her no time to prepare, he leaped forward.

[dice=200+1000]
Miss - 0.0

Perhaps he should have waited, balanced himself better before attempting to attack again. He had stumbled as he took off, making his leap awkward. The poor landing had sent him further off balance, and by that point there was no way any strike of his would hit well, though he tried. As he thought, his swing was crooked and the girl easily blocked it. He would have to try another attack later, but first he would have to parry her return blow.

She had laughed at his attempt, which didn't surprise him. It had been a little weak. It bothered him, though, that she was cocky enough to laugh at him, not too long after he had just given her as bad of a wound as he did. Speaking of her wound, he saw it was still bleeding freely. A flash of guilt crossed his mind, but he pushed it aside. The cut on his shoulder was stinging from the air, and it was still bleeding as well. He had no reason to feel guilty for his blow.

He knew she would try and attack him now, thinking that he didn't have his balance yet. Sorry for her, he was always quick to regain his balance. He had continued the act that he was still unstable, in hopes to lure her in for an attack. It seemed to have worked, because she had jumped at him again, sword out. Sneering at her for falling for his trick, he easily blocked the coming strike, holding steady against the pressure of her sword. She sighed, obviously frustrated.

It was then she checked her wound, and he saw a flicker of worry and pain cross her eyes, then she seemed to push it away. Trying to pretend it doesn't hurt? He thought, scornfully, Well, you're going to have to try harder than that if you want me to believe it. It didn't matter though, he didn't have to believe it, he just had to beat her.

He did a couple of test blows, trying to fake getting tired by using weak blows. His strategy was to lower her guard, then strike like a viper. She narrowed her eyes at him again, obviously waiting for him to strike. Instead of giving her what she wanted, and making it easier for her to block him, he danced around her, making her have to shift her position in order to keep facing him. Hopefully she would be getting bored, or worried about what he would do.

Thinking that he spent enough time dodging her, he went in for the blow.

[dice=200+1000]
Shallow Cut on Right Calf - 3.5

Well, it wasn't the greatest of strikes, but he had managed to hit her. And that's what counted. Every bit of damage he could rack up on her would bring him that much closer to winning the match. He had to admit, a small slice on the leg, only enough to make a line on the fabric armor she wore, was pretty piddly, but it was better than missing again. He would just have to hold up against her, not let her have another blow like that first one she had had. It would not do him well to suffer another wound like was on his arm.