[Jan MP prep] A winter Night's Eve (Artur)

The action was repeated with the other leg, stretching out her calves to make sure that her legs were limber for all the fancy footwork they were doing, before crossing one arm across her chest and holding it tight, then the other. Her stretching was more reminiscent of a dancer, but then again, so was her swordplay, graceful and elegant, yet no less deadly than someone with all the technique but none of the style. She smirked, both hands clasped behind her back as she rolled her shoulders, amused by his comment. “You only think I can’t keep up with your game.” she teased back, missing both the sword and the look while she stretched.

Hopping down from the table, Nikola walked across the room to pull on her own weapons, before pulling out some of the pins that held the crown braid in place and letting her long hair fall down her back, still in a braid. With the weapons and her hair now in place, she was Helyna. At least their version of the fearless young woman turned assassin. She turned back to him as he drew his blade, and smirked, drawing her own and double checking the enchantments on them. They were using their usual ones for this, not the modified ones from the sword display.

“But of course.”

Nikola fell into her stance easily enough, waiting for him to assume his, before she came at him, despite being in high heels and not barefoot, moving with all of her usual grace and poise. She’d opted for sword and dagger, since that was what she’d be using in the show. A rapier wasn’t her first weapon of choice, but she was good with it anyways. And it helped to give the indication that Helyna was not as skilled as Nazar. With her dagger mainly for defense, she came in strong, a series of slashes before ducking around to behind him, her skirts flowing around her like rivers of silk, not hindering her movements in the slightest.

“Do let me know if your costume gives you trouble, of course.”

He laughed at her rebuttal. Quite pleased that her willful pride always push her to better herself and somewhat relieved she did not catch the unintentional innuendo. Really, she was practically still a kid. How long has it been since she graduated, four or was it five years? Well Artur guessed he was well into his circuits by then so she was not that young, but still...

Feeling more comfortable now that he was all stretched, he dropped into a stance. Yet when Nikola pulled out her dagger, Artur decided to slide into another another position, a more defensive one now he knew she was using two weapons. Although the mentor trained his pupil  to use that dagger mainly as a guard to catch his sword, leaving her sword free for a swing from a different angle. It was still a weapon and she would know to use it if there is an advantage.  He thought about pulling out his own dagger and mirroring her, but he decided he would keep it more of a surprise.

It was then she rushed at him. It was not that Artur wasn’t ready. He was.The sword Professor always prided himself on the fact he was at a constant state of alertness. It was more that the dueling pair usually started more slowly and kinda worked their way into a fighting frenzy. Still, even with his stomach full of food and beer, and it being quite a long  day, a smile came to the swordsman eyes. Reacting immediately,  his legs shot himself on her sword side. Dodging the first, then deflecting the next blows. Purposely not allowing her the opportunity to use the dagger. But his little Perovskia was tall and graceful. She profected spins that he would never attempt to teach students, for they would likely be done to slow or lose their balance, or not see their opponents next hit coming. Yet this graduate was different, always so graceful and quick and able to keep her eye on the opponent's sword. Additionally she used her momentum to add strength to the hit. So, it was to her advantage to use her sharp graceful and deadly turns..

The similar frustrations welled up again with in the old dueler specialist. He knew just what the world was missing by not seeing her in the ring. Instead she was debuting her skills in a staged performance. the words spat causing the flames of frustration to flare for a second, as one would throw vodka on a hearth . Yet he knew this would not do. Let the emotions roll off of him. It was her life. If there was any halfway train sword dueler in the crowd, they would see that his Perovskia's true skill within the choreographed moves.

Taking advantage of his cleared his mind, he attacked. Striking his sword a few times, while still wary of her of her dagger hand and ready to step back if she caught his sword. After a few more strikes he stepped back to reset. Taking a moment to arched his back, and stretched his shoulder. The instructor, noted that the match felt good. She was keeping him on his toes tonight. A lot better then last time when she was distracted.

Artur lead the round this time. Less fiercely then her round, but certainly not less cunning. He came in swinging wide arms to give her time to block but not quite an opening to parry. He wanted her to think he was bing lazy. Although it was a trick she should see through. He taught her that when you are evenly matched at swordplay is a game more of the mind then skill and he was playing that card. The trick it to get the opponent to think they knew what to expect. So it would catch them off guard when one does the opposite and that was in fact what he was about to do. He let her take the lead after his few hits and then he waited for the right moment and he pulled out his dagger when she seemed to be concentrating on catching his sword and attempted to lock her blade with his. It was tricky but if done right. He could circle his arm around and pull the blade from her hand. 

Nikola may have been trained to use the dagger as a guard, but she’d lately been perfecting a fun little technique that she intended to put to good use here. But first she would have to let him believe that he knew what she was up to. The two had been sparring for too long, and were well versed in exactly what the other was capable of. It was a good way to bolster holes in ones defense, since they could see them so readily and exploit them when necessary, but in her opinion, they definitely needed to start finding better ways of keeping each other on their toes. When he came at her, instead of blocking she dropped low, using her own momentum to dodge the attack and come up on his weaker side, her skirts flaring out around her like water as she carefully avoided treading on them. Her own movement helped, as the fabric was in motion and not laying on the ground where it could be easily stepped on, causing her to trip. That was key to wearing this outfit while fighting. Constant movement on her part, especially if she was going low like she just had.

She struck with several blows in quick succession once again, though the two were easily on par with each others skill. Their sparring usually lasted no more than a minute before both pulled back and reset; which she did with a graceful flourish, falling into her more aggressive stance with a smile. The only time she felt this free was when she was deep in her work with fabric, or leather, metal, feathers or the various other materials she used in her designs. And yet this entire show was a perfect melding of all the things she held dear to her, and she couldn’t think of a better person she could share it with. A smirk crossed her face. But first, she was going to beat him at his own game.

He came at the german witch first this time, trying to push her on the defensive. He had no idea that she’d been working hard on this new technique. Though what she intended to do was certainly dangerous. After all, there was a reason why one didn’t bring knives to a swordfight. Reach was important; and a twenty centimeter dagger was nothing compared to a blade nearly a meter long. She did indeed see through the maneuver he was attempting, blocking him effortlessly. He was up to something himself, she was certain of it.

Taking the lead he offered her, Nikola was never the less cautious going into this. She had her plan, but without knowing what his was, she was uncertain. And Artur was nothing if not sneaky when it came to their duels. But what he was doing played right into her hands. In a split second, their blades were locked, and she realized what he was attempting to do. Which only worked to her favor when she took a second to think about it, releasing her blade and the force of his own sending it flying and embedding itself in the hardwood floor as she deftly stepped inside his defenses, her own dagger to his throat and her body entirely too close to his for any kind of retaliation with a sword.

“Dead” she smirked.

The Swordsman could see her calculating. Nikola was watching Artur's movements, studying him and trying to figure out how to counter, how to react and what to expect. Good the teacher thought. Yet he always liked to keep the upper hand, trick her, slip under her defences. So that he could teach her the things were not always what it seems. To do this he had to guard his eyes and make sure they did not reveal his next move or agenda. The old dueling competitor had to do this better then he would anyone else, because his apprentice knew him, so well that it made it all the more challenging to him. The adrenaline, along with the mental challenge of their sparring match was addicting to him.

The Ukrainian could tell his little german did not guess his plan until just before he executed it. For he felt the shift in the tension in her sword and the look in her eyes, when she realized the move he was attempting. He was sure she knew she made a mistake. Yet still, she gave into it too easily. He was a bit disappointed. Like a hunter expecting a cornered animal to fight back instead she rolled over. She gave into the pressure of his sword and so allowed her weapon to be released from her hand. He nearly stumbled forward, for he expected that she would resist. It dropped his blade's edge low and his defences suffered.

That is when she stepped in. He had not been expecting it for he always pounded into her head that her agility, and her long limbs were one of her greatest assets. To use them effectively one must never get too close to her enemy. Yet then he remembered that all she had left was a dagger to his sword. She seamlessly switch the purpose of the dagger from a tool to guards, to a weapon. Like a trained assassin, she spun around him and the blade found his throat. Her skirt puddled around his legs if she was taking him into her folds. He tilted his head back so he could take a breath. If the wards were not put so well on the blade's edge, he believed he would have a trickle of blood ruining his shirt.

The German witch's single word hit further fed his conflicting fury and pride that boiled within him. He knew of moves, which even in this position would stand a chance to disarm her. Yet if she was a real assailant than she would have already had ample time to drag the dagger across his throat. No she had caught him off guard, fair and square. So he conceded, by lowering his blade, then slowly slipping it into its sheath.

“Good job Perovskia.” He said when she allowed him to step away from her arm and body. He turned and gave a short conceding bow that was a bit too much like a head nod. The Experienced Swordsman was already analyzing what in his bag of tricks, to pull out so he might even the score. The man knew he had handicapped himself at the start by not matching her blade for blade. He had wanted a challenge, and that was his downfall. Otherwise he would have won. Although, he knew in a real fight the number of blades were not always evenly match. Still, he was not going to let her win again. Putting his hand on his dagger on his belt he asked, “Shall we go again?”

Forgetting that the whole point of the sparing match was to test the costumes.

Nikola was grinning when she stepped back from him. She was always able to hold her own against him, but usually it came down to a war of attrition, and the german woman didn’t have the stamina, nor was her fighting style appropriate for a prolonged battle. Still, what she lacked in longevity, she made up with expert skill and a keen ability to read her opponent and change quickly. In the end, if came down to whether or not he could tire her out into making a mistake before she could lead him into one of her many traps. This was one of the few times she’d actually managed to catch him and trip him up so completely. “What happened to always expecting the unexpected?” she purred, sounding quite pleased with herself. In her mind, any victory against Artur was something to be celebrated. A marker that she was still improving. After all, she’d never catch him the same way twice.

The smile grew as he eagerly asked her for a rematch, almost laughing, as relaxed and free as he’d ever seen her. “How did the costume perform. Any uncomfortable pulling? Tight areas?” she carefully stretched her arms behind her back to pull out her shoulders more, rolling them comfortably. She’d obviously done work already on her own costume, as she didn’t seem as concerned about it. This was however the first time she’d actually fought in it. “I’ll want to shorten the skirts on mine by about an inch. It didn’t cause issues, but I could tell there was the potential for it. Wouldn’t want to rip it on stage, or worse, fall flat on my face.” she teased, replacing both of her weapons and moving in closer to him to check the lacings.

“I suspect we’ll want to loosen the lacings on your right side a little?” she looked up at him for confirmation. “You tend to make more sweeping movements with that side and I noticed your arcs weren’t quite as wide as usual. Unless you’ve injured yourself recently and that's why?” it was possible, but she doubted it. He usually would tell her such things before they sparr. So probably the lacings.