The Grey Tower

Ravak nodded in understanding at the Seanchan's instructions. He immediately raised his right leg up to his chest, and found himself wobbling. He re-obtained his balance by spreading his arms out wide, unwilling to simply lower his leg. After a few seconds, he was steady, and drew his arms back in. He kicked hard, and found himself off balance again. He fell forward, and ended the move in an awkward crouch. Warmth began to radiate through his cheeks. He kept his emotions in check as he straightened, and moved back into the pose again. His time he struck out without tumbling. His leg extended straight down with an upwards slant, his knee dropping. That was an attack at chest height for most men. At the maximum extent of that kick, he pulled it back to his chest. Rav teetered, but maintained his footing. He made several more front kicks, his balance only improving marginally with each attempt. His expression soured as his gracelessness.

Abandoning the first move, he switched legs for the round kicks. If he struggled with his posture when his leg was before him, he strained with his leg out wide. An elongated arm, ending in a balled fist, was the only thing that kept him from toppling. He kicked out uneasily and slowly, painfully aware of his awkwardness. Blood and ashes, this should be easy, you bull-headed fool. He strained to improve, but found the position too hard to maintain. His leg dropped, and his chin sunk into his chest. Red still marred his cheeks as he put his hand on his heart. "My apologies, Dedicated. I don't have the... the steadiness for these round kicks."

Instincts kicked in when Daelar threw the first punch, a thrust aimed at the Shienaran's flushed face. He bobbed his head away from the jab, pulling back his forward leg back slightly, but kept enough sense to bring an arm up to deflect the blow away. He caught the Seanchan quickly enough that the blow was sent wide to Ravak's left.

Daelar recovered quicker than Ravak. He recognised the reverse punch aimed at his chest; Daelar's balled hand struck out from the waist, whilst he snapped his off-hand back. He stepped forward as he attacked, his waist turning for added potency. Rav stepped back, angling into the fist, raising his front foot in the mobile, defensive stance. He swiped his right arm in an outside middle block, holding the forearm vertically as he did so. He only just averted getting hit, and had hesitated in snapping back his left arm.

Rav stepped back into the fighting stance, and took the offensive. He stepped forward with a reverse punch of his own, then working on instinct instead of thought, followed that with an uppercut aimed firmly for the Seanchan's jaw.

Even through the strain and concentration needed to defend against Daelar's attacks, Ravak picked up a change in the Dedicated's dynamism. Beyond that recognition, Rav had no further energy to expend on extraneous thoughts. Daelar launched a kick straight for his abdomen. Left arm swept out in a down block, but the Shienaran moved too slowly. With a grunt, he stumbled backwards as the kick connected.

Forming a strong defensive stance, back foot planted perpendicular to his front, Ravak watched for the next move. Black cloth trembled as the Dedicated tore his fist through the air. Left arm lifted to defend, grey sleeve clashing against black, and stopped in line with his forehead. The brown-haired Seanchan didn't relent. A punch swept out fast, but Rav half anticipated it, his right arm connecting with Daelar's wrist.

Back foot sliding back and straightening, Rav crouched down on one knee for an instant. Then he was rising - in his own mind soaring - at the Seanchan with a jab. A bloody nose for that mark you'll leave on my chest!

The Light curse your moth-. If Ravak had thought he was soaring towards Daelar, he now found himself careening towards the dirt. Something - a boot - had impacted on his back just after the Seanchan had stepped out of the way of his fist. Rav got one hand down to help absorb the blow that gravity dealt him, and groaned.

He picked himself off the ground, brushing grit and skin from his uniform. Rav adopted the fighting stance, having no intention of this spar to end without landing a solid blow. He focused his mind on Daelar, trying to take in what he saw, and apply what he had learnt to the situation. He tried to push everything else out of his mind. All that was important were the two people in this fight, the Seanchan and the Shienaran.

With the ko'di embraced, Ravak moved towards Daelar with renewed vigour. He struck out with a front kick, his balance much improved, immediately followed by a reverse punch with his right fist.

Enveloped in the ko'di, Ravak wasn't able to fully appreciate how close he had got to touching Daelar with that kick. That may have brought about irritation, but irritation was cast out in the emptiness. The only thing that mattered was the two men in their duel.

His right hand shot out towards his opponent's chest and failed to connect. The serenity of the ko'di wavered, as touches of surprise streaked into his thoughts. The ko'di split like a firecracker when the Seanchan landed a soft blow to Rav's nose.

Stepping back hurriedly from the shock of how casually he had been dodged and rebutted, Ravak also took note of how the other man began to relax. The spar was over, and the Shienaran hadn't landed a single strike. Irritation crossed his face, his brow set in a frown. But there was also respect. Respect for a superior warrior, and respect for a teacher. Touching his fist to his chest, Rav bowed. "Thank you for the education, Dedicated Ralead. I have a lot to learn, but you have set me on the path."