Imladris Sparring with Meleithel

\"Imladris Training Grounds practice with Meleithel\"

Players:

Rhifaroth

Meleithel

[Imladris Meadow ZMO(#2629)->Rhifaroth] ================== Eldarin Calendar ===================

IC time is:    Late Night < About  2:06 AM >

IC day is:     Oranor

IC date is:    39 Echuir

Moon phase:    First Quarter

Earendil:      Gil-Estel is not visible.

IC year is:    Loa 19 o Yen 22, Nelandran o Endor (March 22)

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RL time: Tue Jun 10 20:02:04 2008

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[Meleithel(#24815)]

A bright sunny day it was today! The sunshine filtered down through the leaves overhead, and various elves came and went. One had been standing on the archery range since early morning, finally lowering his arm with a groan. The muscles ached and he rubbed them, reluctantly setting the unstrung weapon down after his long training. Shaking his head in dissatisfaction as he moves towards the training weapons, glancing about then to see who might be free to spar with.

[Rhifaroth(#27282)]

There is a familiar tattooed man standing quietly on the edge of the training ground watching those who are gathered here for their practice. He has just arrived and has brought the same oak sword-stick for his own exercises rather than live steel. Pale grey eyes in his scarred face skim over the grounds to see if there is anyone here at this hour that the Dunadan knows.

That gaze settles upon Meleithel and there is a brief nod given to the ellon in greeting, but the man isn\'t close enough to hail the elf easily.

[Meleithel(#24815)]

Catching sight of the odd man, Meleithel offers a wide smile and a wave in return. Striding over, the young elf bows yet again \"Good afternoon! I see you finally made it here to practice as well. \" he notes in his cheerful tones \"How are your children and wife? Are they well taken care of? I am guessing so...\" he notes, inhaling to continue his questioning.

[Rhifaroth(#27282)]

The young elf\'s rapid fire questions recieve an arched black brow in return, \"They are fine, thank you...\" but there is no other interruption if the other is eager to continue. Amusement, perhaps, rises in the man\'s eyes, a faint smile of good humor lurking as he leans lightly upon the oak sparring stick.

[Meleithel(#24815)]

A pause then, an awkward one as though Meleithel had lost his train of thought. Uncertainity passes over the elf\'s face, before he finally just comes with a single question: \"Were you needing someone to spar with? I too am in need of a partner.\" he notes, holding up his own practice sword.

[Rhifaroth(#27282)]

The Dunadan smiles, friendly amusement still in his eyes, \"Sure, why not? But before we do, please remind me of your name. Mele- \" he asks as Rhifaroth picks up his oak exercising staff and starts to walk out onto the ground. Barely noticiable, the man is faintly lame, if one were paying close attention how he moves...

[Meleithel(#24815)]

\"Meleithel!\" Meleithel states immediately, moving onto the grounds as well. If he noticed, he says nothing about the limp as he turns then to face Rhifaroth \"Melei is what many call me though if you wish.\" he adds as an afterthought

[Rhifaroth(#27282)]

Another, slightly more formal inclination of his head to the elf, \"Meleithel. Forgive me for not remembering. I shall not forget again.\" As before, his words are faintly lilted with his accent and spoken quietly. Rhifaroth raises his oak staff as though in salute of the other, \"Shall we begin then? I\'ve already warmed up.\"

The man stands relaxed, watching Meleithel but making no obvious move into a guard position other than holding the stick before himself.

[Meleithel(#24815)]

Wielding his own wooden sword, Meleithel nods \"I am ready then!\" he notes, holding it up correctly... arm a little low for its\' stiffness of shooting all morning, but he corrects it quickly and starts with a simple thrust to Rhifaroth\'s chest.

[Rhifaroth(#27282)]

Rhifaroth\'s own eyes watch Meleithel\'s gaze, noting where the elf is looking - for the eyes usually direct the arm. And in those cases when not, the shoulders often telegraph a movement in the peripheral vision first, before the blade can reach... so the man turns his own body to put his own right shoulder forward, smoothly presenting a slimmer target just to the right of the young elf\'s thrust. At the same time he moves his own sword-staff to flick towards the archer\'s left, near shoulder...

The man\'s minimal movement is calm, practiced.

[Meleithel(#24815)]

Ducking down in reflex, Meleithel easily dodges the flick, although it just brushes his shirt and he grunts, more in annoyance than any actual pain. Moving quicker this time he circles to Rhifaroth\'s rear, the sword still held before him, shield arm held out from his other side before he lunges in once more, face frowning in dtermination to remember lessons drilled again and again, this time the blade moving faster, to Rhifaroth\'s back... a backhanded strike, and awkward.

[Rhifaroth(#27282)]

The elf is fast. Faster than Rhifaroth perhaps, by a little... but Meleithel circles further out to go around the Dunadan, where as the man needs only pivot on the ball of his left foot to rotate his body around, keeping his feet aligned with his shoulders for the most part, in his balanced movements ... drifting to Meleithel\'s left slightly, keeping his right side presented with practice staff held at guard in his right hand. The man\'s tattooed left hand remains held loosely ready as though to slap or grab.

The awkward strike does not reach for Rhifaroth\'s back at all, for the man has easily shifted. But the elf\'s stroke is fast and the Southerner\'s staff must flick out to parry the elf\'s stroke aside. Nearly as fast, the man moves in to close, his left arm suddenly shooting out to cuff at Meleithel\'s nose with the base of his palm. Will first hit be a bloody elvish nose?

[Meleithel(#24815)]

Meleithel, startled by this somewhat underhanded tactic, is indeed struck in the front of the face, snapping his head backwards with a grunt. He staggers a step, shaking it off to whirl around to Rhifaroth \"That was a good one.\" he had to admit, dabbing at his nose now with his cuff, blade still held before him as he applied the cloth, and then with a cry himself, renewed to higher spirits and determination, dropping back into the simple tricks instead that he learned, a few moving to watch now as his blade come in low... and then suddenly snaps upwards in an arc to the ranger\'s chest.

[Imladris Weather Machine(#460)] The clear weather becomes slightly cloudier.

[Rhifaroth(#27282)]

The man doesn\'t move a great deal, not wishing to telegraph too much of his own lameness - is one of his legs weaker than the other? But Rhifaroth is light enough on his feet just at the last moment, when he needs to be. Keeping his movements economical and more than happy to let the elf flit about him, dancing lightly. Likely an elf could outlast him for endurance anyway, so it\'s wise to conserve the energy.

Pale, silvery eyes laugh silently at Meleithel but the Dunadan doesn\'t push to re-engage right away. He allows the other to dab at his nose and nods once in acknowledgement of the compliment, \"Le hannon.\"

The feint from low to high is not a bad move - for the man is caught a little off guard by the quickness of Meleithel\'s movement which did not really require an obvious movement of the shoulder so much as the elbow and wrist. The practice blade catches cloth, snags a bit on the man\'s velet tunic as Rhifaroth twists to evade. In the movement, he again twists to come in closer. This time Rhifaroth is too close to make a swing of his own, so the man brings up the reverse, short end of his own oak staff and makes a jab upwards for Meleithel\'s gut with what would be the pomel, if it were a real sword!  It might appear the the \'blade\' part of Rhifaroth\'s sparring staff were dropping down to make a move for the elf\'s leg, but that\'s only another intentional misdirection of his real intention.

[Meleithel(#24815)]

That upwards-swinging blade snaps down, cracking against the oak wood and making a few watchers flinch as the young elf\'s blade moves Rhifaroth\'s stronger thrust a little to one side. Enough that it would not have been instantly deadly, but Meleithel gasps still in pain as the hilt end bruises his side, again pushing him a step to the left. Face reddening he twists his upper body, leaving his feet where they were to bring that now-raised blade back down to Rhifaroth\'s shoulder, barely a foot away from the human.

[Rhifaroth(#27282)]

There is again no hesitation as the Dunadan\'s feint with his own practice staff connects \'pomel\' end first with Meleithel\'s gut, just under the ribs. The man moves on past the elf\'s shoulder and around towards the archer\'s back even as Meleithel\'s practice blade comes back up for a strike at his shoulder. But having parried Rhifaroth\'s mock strike that had seemed to be going for the elf\'s lower leg, Meleithel has to bring his strike back up for the man\'s shoulder. And the man simply is no longer there.

What Rhifaroth may slightly lack in speed, compared to the elf\'s lithness, he makes up for with surprise and experience. That left hand shoots out once more - this time to shove hard at Meleithel\'s back, with some of his own shoulder in it as though to try and knock the slimmer elf off balance. Rather than moving back out for an easier strike, as might be expected. Rhifaroth\'s own practice \'blade\' is kept low, intending to foul Meleithel\'s legs and bring him down, if successful...

[Meleithel(#24815)]

Meleithel was definitely not in his element in this fight, caught off guard again, eyes rather wide with surprise as he falls forwards, a hand reaching down to catch him. One leg caught by the sword he drops onto his free leg, now crouched as though about to sprint off. Instead of trying to raise to his feet... he straightens and twists around. where his back leg was once facing down, now Rhifaroth\'s blade was under it, in front of Meleithel now facing the human. Remaining low, hand splayed behind him he slashes to Rhifaroth\'s shins, angling the blade so that full force would not be contacted, though he moved it swiftly now with more confidence.

[Rhifaroth(#27282)]

As he intended, the slim elf falls - but Meleithel uses his quickness to twist unexpectedly. So though the young elf is surprised, his wind isn\'t knocked from him, nor does he get a mouthful of pratice grounds dirt!

Rhifaroth\'s practice staff is for an instant still entangled with Meleithel\'s own legs. As the man moves back quickly to disengage, the elvin archer\'s own practice blade swings to lick out as Meleithel bends his body and extends unexpectedly. The tip of the elf\'s practice blade decidedly nips firmly at a shin bone, clipping it. Not enough of a strike to take the man\'s leg out from under him if it had been a real blade, but a painful tap all the same.

It is the Dunadan\'s turn to be vaguely surprised. He has never sparred with an elf before.

Having freed his own practice \'blade\', the man now moves around Meleithel\'s legs. But he doesn\'t allow the elf time for scrambling back to his feet. Left hand held low, the tattooed man stoops in suddenly low. A bit of the practice ground\'s sand is grabbed up and thrown right for Meleithel\'s eyes! Foul! Just an instant behind the gritty particles, Rhifaroth makes to parry any strike the young elf might try to make while still on his back as the man moves in close... intending to land upon the other and place his own oak staff against Meleithel\'s throat if he may...

[Meleithel(#24815)]

A facefull of dirt is not expected. Elves dont fight dirty! They don\'t even GET dirty half the time and this causes a somewhat disconserting cry as his eyes snap closed with dirt. Instinctively he rolls sideways, blade lifted in front of his face and head for protection until his sight could return. He continues rolling, feeling a tug on his clothes as one boot comes down on the edge of his shirt, now dirtied front and back as he rolls frantically to get away.

[Rhifaroth(#27282)]

Meleithel is too fast, rolling. Rhifaroth modifies his attempt to pin the other but keeps close, mindful of the other\'s practice blade.

Skipping quickly, the Dunadan eases around towards the elf\'s head but then pauses, watching the other and raising his own stick to a guard position. The man is not breathing hard, but he is breathing a bit faster with the exertion. Still, the Dunadan\'s eyes are bright as he stops and waits a moment for the other, \"Are you all right?\"

[Meleithel(#24815)]

Hearing footsteps no longer after him, Meleithel rolls to his knees, his face streaked with blood, dirt and tears now. He blinks rapidly to wash the dust from his eyes, looking a little bedraggled as he puffs, quickly recovering. He then swallows and nods at that \"I\'m fine.\" he notes gallantly, then with a cry, launches forwards from where he knelt, not wishing to end just yet it seems without an official hold to either side. Blade held out first, aimed to the ground, he skids to a halt just short and ducks down, slashing low for the abdomen once more.

[Rhifaroth(#27282)]

The elf\'s direct movement is watched warily by the man. Rhifaroth keeps his place, and his guard, as Meleithel closes. As the elf stops and begins to duck low, practice blade already cutting to snake out in an arc from left to right for the man\'s belly... the slash is telegraphed enough to give Rhifaroth that bare instant he needs to judge. He leaps back just enough, sucking in his gut as Meleithel\'s practice tip slices through air. That stroke had enough power in it to really hurt, wooden blade or not, had it hit him. The ranger\'s studded leather jerkin was left back in his quarters, not having expected to have the delight of a sparring partner!

But as Meleithel\'s slash arcs with the length of the elf\'s arm, the Dunadan at once moves to close in right behind that arc. His own oak staff licks out to follow up the elf\'s swing with an odd motion - in something like a parry to continue Meleithel\'s own movement in the same direction it had started with, so not to allow the elf to stop it and keep his balance through the end of the stroke. At the same time, Rhifaroth\'s own eyes do not follow the motion of his own right arm and staff. No, his eyes are on the elf\'s own face where his left elbow is coming up to take a close up sock at Meleithel\'s jaw. If the man doesn\'t miss, that is going to rattle some teeth...

[Meleithel(#24815)]

Meleithel\'s arm as anticipated, had started to come back for a counterswing, only to be met with the mans\' arm. A look of shock comes over his face, just before the elbow connects with his jaw. Chocolate hair falls forwards as his head snaps back and to one side, dropping him to the ground and the young bowman lays there, a hand put into the dirt by his face, blinking away the daze from his eyes as he just remains still, his sword a few feet away.

By then, most in the training grounds had turned to watch with a mixed reaction - some shocked, others angered, and a few of the older, more knowing elves nodding with quiet, if unhappy approval at this.

[Rhifaroth(#27282)]

Not yet aware that his own shin is bruised and still aching with sting, the man closes even further, following the elf\'s movement as Meleithel falls. His own sword stick has come up to press lightly against the young archer\'s throat as a knee is pressed to pin Meleithel\'s weapon arm, Rhifaroth\'s left moving to try and pin the elf\'s off hand, \"Do you yield?\"

There is no anger in the man. Just calm focus as his eyes meet the elf\'s. If he is aware of others watching, he gives no indication. No one seems to be moving up in his peripheral vision as a threat, so he ignores them.

[Meleithel(#24815)]

The elf moves a little as the shadow passes over him, but he only winces - more from anticipation of worse as the knee is set on his arm, not truly hurting him and the \'blade\' pushed to his throat. He pants a few times, trying to clear his head and mutters \"Yes. I Y... Yield.\" his voice dazed, pained and a little humbled, eyes still blinking and nose having renewed its flow of blood down his face.

[Rhifaroth(#27282)]

The tattooed and scarred ex-officer nods once, curtly. He withdraws both himself and his practice stick, sliding the stick through his belt to free up both of his hands. Then the man bends cautiously and dextends his own left for the elf\'s right hand - to help pull Meleithel back to his feet, \"You are fast. I\'ve never sparred with one of your folk, before.\" There is a smile for the elf. \"Mayhap the ladies will fawn all over you now, for the bit of blood and dirt.\" There is a silent laugh in the man\'s eyes. More likely than not, ladies don\'t fawn over this strange man.

Rhifaroth(#27282POXA+Nc)

Wyr is IC

Standing about 6\'4\", this man is fairly broad in chest and shoulders but is lean overall. He is now washed up with more suitable attire. Normally windblown, loose black hair is now trimmed and tamed. Silvery grey eyes have faint creases around them from much squinting into distances. Across his cheekbones and down the sides of this man\'s throat are thin, faded blue-black line and dot tattoos that resemble writing. A relatively new, deep scar angles across his face from scalp to right jaw. Wide of jaw and well formed in feature, one might consider the man ruggedly handsome if they could get past the scar and odd, narrow pattern of tattooing over his skin.

Gone are the worn, soiled clothes as well as his weapons. A muted blue tunic of velvet, belted at the waist and trimmed with silver embroidery now garbs him with a long sleeved white shirt beneath. While his wrists and arms are covered by the sleeves and cuffs of the shirt, more of the faded tattoo markings are visible on the backs of the man\'s calloused hands. Dark blue-grey pants are tucked into calf high, soft black leather boots.

[Meleithel(#24815)]

Taking the hand, Meleithel climbs to his feet - definitely easy to lift up as he stands now, dirt smeared into the blood on one side of his face. He dips his head, hand coming up in a salute of respect to the other one \"Id\' never sparred someone who fought like you either!\" he admits quite plaintively, then lowers his eyes with a smile at the last comment, the smile hidden now behind his sleeve as he tries to staunch the flow of blood once more \"I dont know about that though...\"

[Rhifaroth(#27282)]

Rhifaroth chuckles at Meleithel\'s comment, \"Well, if you don\'t, you haven\'t been busy enough.\" But then, the ways of elves -are- different than men. Especially in such matters as women, or so Giliath seems to have told him.

Giving the elf a smile he adds, \"You did just fine... and I thank you for the exercise. Just remember...\" and here the man lowers his hand and his voice grows more serious, still pitched very low, \"If you face an enemy, they\'ll fight to kill you. There are no rules, no honor, that binds evil - be they men, orcs, or worse. Use whatever you can, not just your blade.\"

A hint of a smile then and the man turns as though to depart. He hesitates though and glances back, \"Good tap to the shin, by the way.\" Then he begins to move off. He\'ll need a bath now himself, and a change of clothes.

*** DISCONNECTED ***