Time to prove Lyle wrong...

[Gongsun Ren]

Alright, shall we go with the usual? Flat, grassy, I'll be using Cui Jiang. I trust you remember him?

[Gongsun Ren]

Huangfu Yuan stood on a box along the rode, shouting to those who rode by.

"You think you're strong? You've got what it takes? Well, step right up and face my bodyguard here! He'll show you what you've got! Only 50 gold to enter! Any takers?" He called out to anyone who'd listen. What could he say? Sales were low. Cui Jiang, for his part, stood stoically next to Huangfu, toying with one of his crossblades. Whatever. Let them come. At heart, they were nothing but rabble. He was a killer, and he'd bee getting better and better at it since the incident in Jiaozhou all those years ago.

[Lyle]

A noblemen to challenge this man, surely. Yet, no noblemen showed up, only peasents on looking in a tight circle, waiting for a courageous soul to come forward. They looked for their brothers, their fathers and their sons, the sound of gold rustling in the merchant's pouch becoming music to their ears. The bodyguard played it all off, noticed the barbarian lord, Yan Feng. Yan Feng was a famed commodore of the White Wave rebels, his might and power exisiting in fields where few people could truly muster skill to. He was a warrior, and a damn good one by heart. He had three blades with him, one upon his back secureded tightly, his ceremonial sword. Two others were at his side, both sheathed and clinging to his waist. He was adorned in armour, some leather, some plates. All was covered with either paint or animal coats, singaling the life style of this warrior. The most distict thing about him was his helm, two horns that could be used as weapons upon his head sticking out from the sides and then pointing up like a bull. His helmet looked to be either made out of copper or gold, what was clear was it was made by a very professional craftsman, most likely several actually. It must have been stolen..

"Weakling, I will take your man only for a fight and nothing more!"

Yan hurled a gold bag with his right arm, his other already drawing a sword from his belt. The bag landed in the merchants face, the gold within it streaking across the mans face and surely leaving a mark. Yan drew another sword now. He held his Yan Man Dao in his right, his saber in his left. He bent his legs slightly, the crowd expanding around him in both fear ane excitement of a fight. Many have heard of Yan Feng, clearly. Feng pointed his saber strait forward, his body moving so that his left arm was closer to his opponent than his right, which was on its own held closely to his body. Merciless was pointing behind his shoulder, it being held like a bat, wound up and ready to fire.

[Gongsun Ren]

Huangfu recoiled at the bag as it hit him, then picked up the pieces that had fallen out.

"Well, go to it." He muttered to Cui. He needn't have said that. Cui seemed quite interested by the prospect of fighting a real warrior. His only opponent to ever come close to that pinnacle was a barbarian king he slew in Nanzhong within the months passing his ascension into this new world. Speed, technique, coordination, and a bizzare looseness and flexibility had allowd him to climb the ladder, and all four were gifts from his two unintentional mentors, who now lay dead in Cangwu.

Noting his opponent's two weapons, he decided to repay him in kind. As usual, one of his crossblases was hung on his back. The other, held in his hand, was quickly seperated into two double-ended swords. He hopped up and down once or twice, then prepared for the fight. He held the blades vertically in front of him; the top two formed an X in front of his face. he closed his eyes, took a deep breath, and surged forward, crouched slightly, with an explosiveness that had become his trademark. As he blasted forward, he uncrossed the blades and let them hang behind him as he neared his opponent, lined up with Yang's left leg. Once he found himself two feet away from the tip of Yang's sword, he drew his weapons upward and brought himself up as well. With his right hand, he held his weapon at a 45 degree angle, perpendicular to Yang's sword, with the top blade pointing inward. he sent the weapon up, knocking his cutlass away. The left hand held the weapon so that it would be vertical, excepting that he pointed the blade at Yang's neck. this, however, was a feint. Cui expected Yang to use the Merciless to strike at him, or block the blade. Should a strike come, Cui would twist the top blade to block it while pulling it back and swinging the lower blade forward, allowing his to drive the bottom blade into Yang's chest. If he blocked it, he would push back and try to force Merciless away from the path of the other blade. Likewise, once the right blade had made contact with Yang's cutlass, he would swing the bottom blade around, as well. By this point he had slowed his momentum enough to stop, and would leap back and prepare to defend if Yang countered with something unexpected.

[Lyle]

Agile like the River, strong like the Horse and the sight of an eagle; such ideals and thoughts could be brought forth when Yang Feng's name was spoken. He was a grand warrior, who relied on his abilities to defeat his opponents mercilessly.. Yet another remained: skill. He could wield his swords like none other, hundreds of years of fighting and killing within his very veins, coursing and pushing along as his body reacted skilfully not just to his opponent, but to his own mind. To separate ones self from the conscious and to rely on instinct is only what a judgmental fool can comprehend, and use to fight another soul like himself. Yang was different, his mind working hand and hand with his skills and aged body, his reflexes entombed within his very brain and his sub conscious the conscious. All breathed in the same air and ran the same show in one name and one only. Yang Feng.

The man blitzed, grasping the crowds attention as many leaned in and others jumped upon others shoulders, to some this would be their only chance of ever seeing a fight, in their entire lives. Both would surely put on a show for all, but only one would win.. Do not think it honorable in dieing with your ideals and fighting for your life. Find honor in the way you take to life, and the way you fight. When death comes, know that it will be most tragic, yet the world will surely move on without you.

The warrior was quick with his blades, relying on his speed to make the first attack, his swift hands only out classing his legs. Shocking, of course, the fool brought his hands back, tempting a strike, tempting Yang Feng to wrestle with death yet again. He would not take it, his body ready to move yet motionless, his swords still out yet ready to pounce. Two feet and both warriors were sure of their motives and goals, their plans final and beginning to play out. Power would be upon Yang, speed upon his opponent. The warrior sent his right arm to break the defense, attempting at pushing and then giving, hoping to find some kind of attack within his break. Feng took advantage of this immediately as his opponent shot his left arm forward too, attacking what opening he could find. Too late, Yang already moving back wards slightly and off to his own right, distance already coming between the two. His left sword, the saber slapped against his opponents right, a little parry hidden within the flick of his wrist, something to slow his enemy down. And then it pushed off from the blade, slicing through air with what power that could be mustered. Another 'twang' sounded as metal on metal met and blows were exchanged. The saber had met the right one as well, its wielder still moving backward and yet also tapping his opponent's blades, which moved so fast, on the brink of no control, one would think. (;P)

Yang would continued to move behind, waiting for the tiger to follow his path and to his death. He still had his right arm cocked, his muscles tightened and ready too relieve the weight from his shoulder. The blade would strike with lightning speed, its master behind him as the saber was pulled slightly back and most of Yang's power was put behind his attack. It would go from top right to bottom left, but nothing was truly definite.

[Gongsun Ren]

This warrior was good. A far cry from the bandits and pushovers Cui was used to. His fierce exterior belied his dexterity. When he knocked Cui's right blade aside, Cui began to slow. As the other blade was nicked, he had stopped short. he used the momentum, and conservation thereof, to swing his twinblades back inside. They aimed for the saber and crossed beneath it, catching it in a V. Expecting Yang to finally release the other sword , Cui whirled to the right while spinning to the left, pulling the V together as he did so, and in doing so pushing the saber toward Yang's right, away from him. The direction of the whirl threw him out of the way of a frontal slash from Yang's right, while the speed of the it allowed the second crossblade worn on Cui's back to fly up, so that it was horizontal, and therefore in a perfect way to decapitate Yang should Cui complete half of the turn. However, this Yang was clearly no newcomer to the world of fighting, and Cui expected some kind of reprisal. As such, he crouched his legs slightly as he spun. If Yang attempted to counter, block, or dodge his attack, Cui would leap away from him, to slightly in front of Yang's exact left. Even if yang was hit by the weapon, Cui would spring away as soon as the blade hit.

[Lyle]

Skill and speed, but not where he needed it the most. Yang had hit the merchant on purpose, the warrior next to him light and flexible, obviously quick and agile. He drew the man out, and took up a defense so he could use his own power and overall swift way of fighting to over power his opponent and tire him. He began again.

His opponent took with him his sword, his body flying off in one direction, spinning in the other. Odd these tactics, yet perfected noted Yang. He brought his sword up higher from his back, his right hand ready to send it forth and create and onslaught for his opponent. Below him his feet and legs worked, moving with the motions of his opponent to the best of his ability, still holding and controlling his blade and already pulling back closer to him. He bounced off the balls of his feet and moved to his right quickly as he made a feint strike at his opponent, knowing that he would only catch him later, his body surely ready to pounce off again. His left hand pulled back, keeping the sword out pointing toward the ground as his torso turned and his shoulders moved, his right arm coming out quickly and aiming for his opponent's left shoulder horizontally. If his opponent tried any funny business (;P) then Yang would push off to his right again after his feet were secured and flank one last time, pushing further back from his opponent again.

[Gongsun Ren]

Cui found himself face to face with his nimble opponent. Although inwardly surprised that Yang had kept up with him, he showed nothing, and when the right blade moved to strike, he reacted accordingly. Yang was jumping, making his strike higher. In a split second, Cui had fallen into a crouch. Pulled down by the sudden drop, the crossblade on his back intercepted Yang's Yanmandao, preventing it from hitting Cui, while Cui shot his right arm at the saber, knocking it away with his weapon. Finally, Cui stabbed his left blade at Yang's right thigh. This was all done in a second. The next second, Cui rolled backward and into an alert half-crouch, blades up and ready to react to an counterattack if his opponent was still standing.

[Lyle]

His opponent was to get the best of him, but he could only go so far before Yang himself caught up and pulled something off on the assassin like warrior. He was in mid air striking downward, his opponent crouching so the weapon on his back prevented any strike from Yang's cavalry sword, his main and blunt attack simply rattling his opponents cage and shocking him, the power behind it necessary enough to do this. Yet it would prove only so foolish, his own cage now open for a quick and precise strike. The right saber came forward, yet its goal was not to harm Yang himself. It went for his saber, which was already pulled back slightly and ready to strike, the true attack of this stance. It was already ready to do the deed, and thus was faster than his opponent who had been jolted by the Yan man dao attack as well. It however did not seek out his opponents chest, but swiped across his body and Yang's, the blade simply there to deflect or parry anything that moved between them. The Warrior's left hand was above the blade, holding the hilt tightly as Feng's entire body moved with this attack, his left side pushing slightly forward while his right moving slightly back.

At the same time the Yan Man Dao sprung from the cross-blade defense and bounced back, no true power behind it other than the strike itself. With it retreating Yang had a lot more movement, especially with the way he was wielding his saber now. He would kick off from the ground and his opponent, pushing back and turning at the same time as his Yan Man Dao swung yet again, swiping at anything that followed him. His saber came with him as well, his entire body now moving to do this maneuver.

[Gongsun Ren]

Cui rolled back and noted that his opponent had not attacked while he did so. Yang must have not expected a retreat. From his crouch, Cui awaited Yang, waiting for him to stop his attempted counterattack and face him. As soon as Yang did, Cui sprang at him, keeping extremely low to the ground. Once he was but a foot from Yang, he halted and pulled back his right arm, aiming a slash from his upper right, targetting Yang's hip. This was a feint, however, as the telegraphed move would be easily blocked by Yang's left sword. However, the moment Yang began to move his right blade, Cui sliced his left one horizontally at his knees. the momentary distraction of the feint should give Cui the half-second he needed to bring the cut inside Yang's defensive zone. Should the slice fail, though, Cui had a backup plan: he would spring forward and drive his skull into Yang's crotch. It would not be a graceful move, nor did Cui relish the idea, but at this distance it would be practically unavoidable and must certainly effective.