[voice]

[bitofafop]

[Now that he has a better hang of this phone thing so he doesn't have to go flashing his face around everywhere.]

That "Holodeck" is an interesting place, I'll admit. But I prefer my opponents to be capable of thinking for themselves.

I'm looking for a sparring partner.

[...and after a bit more thought.]

No wizards.

[ps no one tell Jarlaxle that he may or may not be using this as a way to look for recruits.]

Comments

[bitofafop]

And that earned a soft snort in answer, though it wasn't as though Artemis disagreed with him. He wanted to be able to go all out - it didn't feel like sparring would be quite worth the effort if he couldn't - but he lacked the proper tools for that. Non-lethal weapons, for example.

Unfortunately, he was also slowly going crazy from the lack of action that had been driving him till now, so playing "carefully" would have to suffice. He could practically hear the sword's outrage as he drew Charon's Claw from his belt.

"I'm only looking to keep my skills sharp," he assured, with a crooked smile and small shrug as he relaxed into a ready stance. "Which would be difficult to do if I killed those I mean to practice with."

...he sounded confident, at least.

[youfool]

Ted paused, for a moment. Being a dork, he's terribly interested in swords. Artemis' disturbed. A red blade with a black trough running along its center. The hilt looked more promising, but even its white was a sinister kind, like bleached bones. "Butcher" was looking more and more likely. That sword looked like killing was all it knew.

As usual, Ted didn't think too long. No reason to lose nerve before the fight even began. He gave a sharp nod and took the banter for a "yes", shouted "En garde!" then quickly stepped into combat. Any seasoned swordsman would recognize Ted's triangle-step at once; he, like all moral people, was right-handed, and so made a traverse step towards Artemis' left flank, following with his left foot going back and to the right. It also displayed Ted's greatest talent in fencing: footwork. He stepped lively and lightly.

He'd start with a "crooked cut", making a windshield-wiper motion as his hands crossed, forming a diagonal blow. His greatest flaw in fencing, as Artemis might find out, was his lack of deceit. He couldn't conceal his intentions to save his life, and so thought a tricky cut might be just the thing to fix that. More than that, however, was adherence to the golden rule of fencing: always be attacking. Set the initiative, frame it yourself, and things ought to go well. Getting the first blow was paramount.

But for all his vigor, Ted is careful. He'd been taught too well to let even his natural clumsiness and inattention to detail end in anything life-threatening. Beneath those colorful clothes lies a layer of chainmail and a few other precautions, just in case things get dicey. Still, he certainly looks as though he might be ready to skewer Artemis at any moment.