Not fighting to kill or maim was like sweet music to Pete, whose love of fencing had been awakened when he, as a child in good standing, had seen the best plays Goldsand could provide its nobility (which Pete was not born into). Pete loved the intrigue and clever plots the heroes and villains orchestrated, and even as a boy he did not mind the romantic subplots too much, but his absolute favorite of any play was when any characters fenced. Pete would always cheer loudly for whoever was the most skilled with his sword, and since the hero always had to win, adults thought Pete was a good, moral child for being so invested in heroâ€™s fate. Pete, himself, learned to fence at a young age, against his fatherâ€™s wishes and with a trainer of such renown that Pete got special permission to travel to the second-innermost wall where the true nobility lived and learned to fence with the boys who would one day grow up to rule their own tiny, pathetic section of land between two walls.<br/>After having learned how to fence Pete saw the theater plays in a new way. He could see the actors behind the fencers and he could see who was truly superior. In a real fight you did not duel like in a play; did not make huge sweeping motions or hammer the edge of your blade against the enemyâ€™s. By the age of twelve Pete would have been able to defeat the<span style="font-style: italic">characters</span>in the plays, but not the actors. Pete had then started cheering for whichever actor was in reality the superior swordsman.<br/>Peteâ€™s love of fencing for show came from those plays. He saw these actors who were genuine swordsmen fight in dramatic ways just for the show. He saw the small smiles in their faces, and knew they were enjoying it much more than if their own life was on the line. Pete loved using his sword to goof around and jump over enemy swings; shift hand in the middle of a parry, and spin around his own axis, exposing his back to attacks, to deliver a wild slash at an opponent he did not have a clear visual off. It was<span style="font-style: italic">fun</span>.<br/><br/>That was how he fought Vrael. The elf defending by easily stepping past the strokes, which were not even aimed to connect, or blocked with the flat end of his enormous blade. Pete only wished he had an audience to entertain, or that they had set up a context first, such as Vrael fighting to keep Pete from marrying his elf child.<br/>â€œIf you were an intruder I would drop that bucket of water unto the coals to obstruct our vision of the surroundings,â€ Pete explained neutrally, keeping the chuckle in his heart out of his words, â€œSince any duel is a zero-sum game, and it does not matter if I am hindered, as long as you are hindered more. I believe I have a better memory than most, and would be able to orientate myself almost effortlessly in your forge based on my initial vision of the room, whereas most men, in my experience, relies on constant visual input to determine their immediate whereabouts. Since this is your forge I expect you know it by heart â€“ you have not looked behind you once, yet sidestepped two obstacles on the floor already â€“ and the gain in creating a mist would be yours. I suspect you would have done so already, if you did not need your visuals to determine the specifics of my abilities.â€<br/><br/>Pete smiled amiably, moved in with his sword gyrating oddly as if to confuse the enemy. Vrael grunted and struck the sword hard with his own blade, making it swing far to one side and before Pete could steady it Vrael had swung against Peteâ€™s head, and he had to jerk frantically out of the way to avoid having his lower jaw sliced clean through.<br/><br/>Peteâ€™s eyes grew wide for a second and he jumped backwards while making a far more precise slash against Vrael to keep him from pursuing. His smile dropped and Pete assumed an air of seriousness that did not become the effeminate man. Unless the sword, Temerlain, had an enchantment on it that prevented grievous harm then Vraelâ€™s definition of an exhibition duel varied from Peteâ€™s. It was natural enough, Vrael needed to know Peteâ€™s fighting style, and while Pete preferred to fight like in a play, it would not be how he<span style="font-style: italic">should</span>be fighting. Pete would be able to determine the true skill of an actor based on a performance, but Vrael likely could not. Pete had acted foolishly for the sake of sport, and, in the back of Peteâ€™s mind, he had thought that certainly an<span style="font-style: italic">elf</span>would be much more impressed with fancy theatrics than real skill.<br/><br/>â€œApologies,â€ Pete simply said, â€œbut keep in mind that I do sometimes fight like this, when lives are not at the line, and exhibition is the purpose. My new sword should be capable of fighting for real and for fun.â€<br/>Pete nodded and the actual fight started.<br/><br/>Pete transformed then, from an effeminate loud-mouth into an effeminate hurricane of steel. He had observed Vraelâ€™s fighting style in the theatrical simulation, and had noticed a tendency to focus on defense over anything else, forcing the opponent to use grander, heavier attacks in order even hope to cause damage, and in the moment of any grand attack he could make a swift blow and win. Pete noticed in the ensuing real battle than Vrael never acted unless there was an opening to make a blow. They did not trade blows, Vrael only struck when he perceived a chance of victory.<br/><br/>Pete moved quickly, his stabs short and precise, exploiting his long arms and longer blade to keep out of Vraelâ€™s immediate strike zone, and any attack on Vraelâ€™s behalf would come at a significant loss of defense, which clearly did not suit the smithâ€™s fighting style. Further Pete was the faster man, with a much lighter weapon and he struck in different areas, which kept Vrael off balance a he had to move his heavy sword in to block or step backwards until Vrael was against the wall and could no longer defend through terrain.<br/>Even so it took Pete a long time to actually simulate a deciding stab. He made sure never to touch the smith with his sword, except for the smithâ€™s gauntleted hands, since the purpose of his new sword would be to pierce metal.<br/><br/>Itâ€™s a zero-sum game, Pete had explained. Any shared disadvantage was really a gain to whoever was disadvantaged the least. Pete did not carry armor, which made him fast but still put him in a disadvantage to an armored opponent who had far less vulnerable areas to protect. Vrael was blocking and it was like fighting a wall. With Peteâ€™s new weapon this tactic would be unfeasible. The opponentâ€™s defense would become a disadvantage due to loss of mobility, and a belief in his own security. When Pete could pierce armor he could strike where they expected to be safe. Pete alternated his fighting style with Vrael to show that he could pierce Vraelâ€™s defenses as he was now, and how he would fight with the new weapon.<br/><br/>â€œDefend!â€ Vrael said when Peteâ€™s sword almost pierced his shoulder, and then it was Vraelâ€™s turn to be on the offense. Pete backed away quickly as the Temerlain swung against him and Pete had no capacity to block the much heavier sword. His own rapier would break like a straw to a scythe if taking the Temerlainâ€™s blow. Pete pondered in which capacity he should defend, since the obvious solution was to move back into offense and simply slay Vrael.<br/>It was clear that taking an offensive strategy and being the one to advance suited Vrael much less. He had had nearly perfect defense and in an open environment with infinite room to retreat Vrael and Pete could have fought for hours before one of them lost the speed to make a deciding strike. In offense Vrael was sloppy and his weapon much slower.<br/><br/><span style="font-style: italic">Suppose</span>, Pete thought,<span style="font-style: italic">that he was a useful ally, who for whatever reason attacks me. I cannot kill him or wound him, but still have to stay alive myself.</span><br/>This was one of the battles where Pete wished he had the context of a theatrical play. He would prefer to talk through the duel and explain his noble intentions, or shed light on whatever misunderstanding had forced the attack, or pay off Vraelâ€™s character with gold.<br/><br/>He could not disarm Vrael for he held Temerlain with both hands and both hands were protected, and the forge was too small for Pete to maneuver around him. He could go outside, but it felt like cheating.<br/><span style="font-style: italic">You cannot change stage in the middle of a scene!</span><br/><br/>As Pete considered his options he kept Vrael at bay by stabbing at where Vrael would be if he stepped forward too fast, rather than where he was now. If Pete was trapped against the wall like Vrael had been then he would either lose or have to pretend to kill Vrael, but in Peteâ€™s mind the goal was the force Vrael to stand down and join him on his quest â€“ which was, in a way, exactly what Pete wanted Vrael to do.<br/><br/>Well, Pete was creative, even though there were a limited number of utilities at his disposal. He could strike the warm coals and send a scorching ash cloud into Vraelâ€™s eyes. Pete had to invent a rule where he needed Vraelâ€™s characterâ€™s eyes intact, since Pete needed the real Vrael like that. The dimly lit forge had utensils hanging about and here and there was a weapon on the wall, but none of them at any practical application in submission. Why did Vrael have to forge axes instead of chains and bolas?<br/><br/>The only thing Pete could find that had practical application in slowing Vraelâ€™s movement enough for Pete to get close and end the duel, without ending in a situation where Vraelâ€™s character could, not having understood the situation, slash at Pete, forcing Pete to kill the character he was supposed to protect.<br/>Pete jumped backwards, shifting his style from slowing his own retreat to suddenly expediting it, buying him a second to act in Vraelâ€™s intended confusion. The rapier â€“ since just using his hands would be cheating â€“ went into the handle of the aforementioned bucket, and Pete tossed the water in the opposite end of the coals, at Vraelâ€™s face to give himself just a second of an opening. It worked and in the moment the water splashed across Vraelâ€™s face and the Temerlain swung inwards to cut off Peteâ€™s movement, he went behind the direction of the sword, put one hand on Vraelâ€™s arm to prevent a backswing and the rapier was at Vraelâ€™s throat.<br/><br/>â€œThat was amusing,â€ Pete said softly, his breath only slightly heavy and the sweat on his forehead was only due to the heat of the forge. He removed the blade from Vrael and the smith put Temerlain down, and for the first time it dawned on Pete that the sword was not mystically enchanted to be lighter than its looks, but that Vrael, Pete felt through the hand that rested on the smithâ€™s arm, held tremendous strength. If Vrael had chosen he cod have thrown Pete into the coals when he tried to restrain him.<br/><br/>Pete did not shown signs of this revelation of Vraelâ€™s strength, which went beyond what even a smith could be estimated possessing. Instead he just put a finger on his chin and looked innocent at his sword, saying: â€œOh yes, I almost forgot something quite important. I expect to be encountering the so-called Angels of the Wastes, of whom I know little, and my companion, Koralheim, the Toy-maker, who is their real target did not offer me any insight into defeating them. Perhaps you can, in addition to the other, more desired features, make my sword effective against these ghostly sounding creatures?â€