Epee Round 1: Bryze, J. vs. Anders

This was what he was here for, to participate in Epee and later weightlifting. He had practiced with the sword for a while now, but he wasn't sure if he was gold medal material. When his competitor was revealed, he knew that it would take a lot for him to win. Standing across from him was the winner of the 60th Hunger Games, Julian Bryze. As a sixteen year old, Brant was almost three years younger than the victor. If he had had enough talent to come through that, surely he would make quick work of a District four boy like him.

Still, he could try to win, and he would try to win. No sense giving in when he hadn't lost yet.

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While he hadn't been surprised that both he and Julian had landed a point in their first turns, he had been surprised that the victor had swung in such a manner that he could easily parry it. He had, watching the older boy's face as he did so. This one mistake meant nothing, for all he knew, Julian was just testing him. However, he couldn't count himself out, the match had only just begun.

[dice=20]

Or maybe he could. As long as this was one of only a few, if any more, slip ups, then he might be alright. But only might. It was like he thought, this match would probably not be easy.

If the fight was going to alternate between them both hitting and both missing, then it would be a long fight. It would also be Julian who won, though there would be no surprise in that. If Brant was going to win, it would most likely be through sheer dumb luck.

[dice=20]

Or he could lose from sheer bad luck, no surprise there either.

An easy parry again, this was odd. It was as though Julian either was stuck in a pattern, or he would become overconfident. Either way, Brant didn't mind much, it gave him another opportunity to get back into it. Maybe.

[dice=20]

That was more like it, a quick touch on the arm was all he needed to do to gain himself another point and tie up the match again. With only two point apiece, it might take a while for one of them to win.

As the point of Julian's sword tapped his chest, all Brant could think was that he was glad this was not the Games. If he had not been in a fencing match, and instead a real sword fight, that sword would have pierced his heart. The thought gave him a flighty feeling, turning him on edge, his pale green eyes watched Julian as he thought, Can't give in, gotta move on.

Gotta move.

[dice=20]

It wasn't the most impressive move, but it was a point. Poking the older boy's foot with the tip of his sword, he let a small, sideways smile slip onto his face. Even if he was going to lose, he could at least say he had gotten points against Julian Bryze. That had to count for something.

Julian had scored a double touch, striking him with a quick move. But he had also managed to get in a strike, Julian's move leaving an opening large enough to duck into for his own blow. Gritting his teeth, Brant once more reasoned with himself that it was only to be expected. Even back home he wasn't all that well known for being a great swordsman. It was only his stupid luck that had both pitted him against Julian, and given him the few points he had gained. If only it was steadier luck, then he would know what to expect.

Though, the mystery of what would happen next could be fun too.

[dice=20]

What happened next shocked him, as he suddenly found his sword point up by Julian's face, the only thing between it and his nose being the mesh mask. Well, there went his stupid luck again.