Victor walks in, eyeing Akon practicing on the dummy, he smirks a bit and walks over to the uordeq woman and smiles.
"You think that dummy can teach you how to fight? First off, that thing is just a child's toy. You need practice on the real thing."
Victor draws his blade and motions for the lady to come at him.
Akon eyes the man over, letting curiosity bring a smirk to her face. "I didn't take you for much of a swordsman, what, with all the fireballs you go about chucking." She said in a humored tone. She sheathed her blade and moved to the wall, taking down two wooden practice swords and tossing one Victor's way.
Victor takes the practise sword and smiles a bit at the remark.
"Magic comes natural to me. I don't have to learn anything, just experiment. Swordsmenship on the other hand fascinates me. I have studied it much. From Bonetti's defence, to Capo Ferro and Agrippa. After all, when you come from where I was raised, your sword skill is your life."
"Seems we have something in common then." Akon smirked, flipping her wooden blade in hand as she watched every movement of Victor's body, though it seemed she was only looking to his eyes. "Survive or die, the rules of my people are fairly simple in thier complex schemes and plotting. What it comes down to in the end is which end of the dagger you are on. I used to only practice the arts of the blade, until I came here. No tricks then, just swordplay." Akon waited, watching the man move.
Taklinn walks into the Warrior's Hall, with his axe in his hand, looking with distain at a burr in the blade of it and walks towards the forge area and to the grinding wheel. Hearing the sounds of battle as he walks past the practice room, he glances in and huffs off quickly to complete his task. Upon finishing his task, he grunts indecipherably and replaces it in his axe frog on his waist. Walking back out, he stops again to view the practice session and the two combatants as they continue to practice, studying the skills of both fighters as they put each other through different attack routines.
Victor's moves are niether fluid nor partcularly elegant. Most are just quick yet calculated dodges and parries. With each attack or parry Akon attempts it just seems to send her in a different rythum then she would like. All the while she can see a smile across the Empyreans face as he looks her directly in the eyes as they spar.
Akon responds to the man's odd and offset juts and jabs with grace and fluidity. The more awkward and unrythmic the man's moves become, the more the woman seems to enjoy it. Amongst the brutal death dance the two engaged in, a brightness came to Akon's eyes, a genuine enjoyment of the art, a pure satisfaction at the challenge and unformed loose manerisms of Victors sword play. One might even dare say she was smiling, loving the simplicity of the clash and perry of blows. She seemed to go along with each of his attempts at her, playing more defensive and letting him gain ground.
Akon slowly opened the door to the warrior's hall. Her eyes lifted along the walls and forge. She removed her water flask and set it beside her as she took a seat at the grinding wheel. She slowly drew her dark metaled blackblade, its wicked form long and slender. With her foot she pumped the sharpening wheel, turning the gritted stone as she placed the blade to it. Sparks flew as she ground the blade into a deadly edge, honing the weapon with delicacy.