Epee Round 1: Foster vs. Moreno, E.

[aya]

INDIVIDUAL EPEE: ROUND 1
FOSTER VS. MORENO, E.

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Please refer to the Epee Info Thread for information regarding the administration of this event. The Dice Table is posted again below for reference. Please note that if a competitor DOES NOT POST within 36 hours, they FORFEIT THE COMPETITION. This rule is simply to ensure that the bouts occur within a reasonable timeframe so we can move on with the tournament without any holdups.

Epee Dice Table:

1	Hand	Point
2	Foot	Point
3	Knee	Point
4	Shoulder	Point
5	Shoulder	Point
6	Arm	Point
7	Arm	Point
8	Arm	Point
9	Chest	Point
10	Chest	Point
11	Stomach	Point
12	Stomach	Point
13	Hip	Point
14	Mask	Point
15	Parry	No point
16	Parry	No point
17	Parry	No point
18	Parry	No point
19	Double Touch*	Point for both
20	Double Touch*	Point for both

*If the fencers are tied at 14-14, no points are awarded for a double touch.

CURRENT SCORE

Amele Foster: 15
Elspeth Moreno: 14

WINNER: FOSTER

Let the games begin!

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[Matt]

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~[x]~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I knew that it was my time to shine. The epee fit perfectly in my palm, my hand grasping the blade tightly with anxiety. Everything Daven taught me about swordplay would come into play, and I knew I was more than ready for this competition. As I was stretching, my head turned to the audience where my eyes met those of my mother. She was looking at me, not with interest or hope, but in boredom and disappointment. She'd never accept that I wasn't her perfect daughter, that I didn't end up like Phenakite Shore. Phena. I bit my lip at the thought of her and her perfect hair and her perfect social skills. To me, she was nothing but a cold hearted bitch who needed a reality check. Focus, Amele, Focus. Oh god, how Amele wanted Daven to be there. To give her last minute coaching. She found a new trainer at the center, and he made her laugh a lot. But she was no Daven. Finally, the match was about to begin. Turns out, I was paired with a Moreno. Her appearance was most definitely different, but it's not like I'm complaining. I pulled the mask down over my face and waited and waited and waited for the round to begin. With the sound of the beep, I struck.

[dice=20]

Parry. With a sigh, I gave a few bounces to get back into the swing of things. This Moreno was good, I'll give her that, but I knew I could beat her in the end. I had to. To show my mom that I'm not a failure, and to make Daven proud.

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[Jimmeh!]

elspeth anastasia moreno

I can't say I've ever met my opponent. Strange, considering we're both from One. The First, the greatest. Currently, the underperforming. But here, in the swordplay, we had the advantage. So many Career prospects, and so maining training point meant only one thing. A lot of teenagers who could use blades. The épée however, was a touch more unusual. Not enough to make her anything less than highly proficient. My mind is blank, clad in the white fencer's garb, multi-toned hair netted up out of the way. My face fixes itself in a scowl as I regard her, before given the command of assuming places upon the runway. A brief snarl crosses my features, my wordless entry belying the cold fury that boils within me. The same cold fury that preceeds a kill. She dares to dance with tigers... The mask descends, and like all fencers, I am a faceless combatant.

The buzzer sounds, and she lunged, straight off the mark. My blade flashes, tapping her swift assault aside, a deft parry, before settling into a low, crouching guard, blade held above my head, slanting down, a more unusual poise, set on the balls of my feet, without bounding about. Coldly analysing her movements. Like quicksilver, I stepped forward, feinting a lunge for the body, before backstepping and lunging again...

[dice=20]

... aiming for her stomach. A satisfying buzz rang in my ears, marking a point, the back pressure on the blade feeling comfortable. I sway backward, attempting to forfend any counterattack from my opponent, a grin upon my obscured face. First blood... The sweetest...

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[Matt]

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~[x]~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Shit." I muttered under my breath as I fell for the Moreno's clever trick. She was surprisingly quick and calculating in all of her actions, and I knew I would have to try to figure her out before she could make another trick lunge. I was already down a point, but I could still catch up with a few parries of my own. I remember what Daven told me once. "Breath in and out, Amele. Calm down, and don't think of the sword as a weapon, think of it as an instrument. You're an artist in swordplay, with elegant lunges and swings and movements. Feel the motions, make peace with your surroundings. And most importantly, focus." My eyes studied her, and it didn't seem like she wanted to make a move. She was waiting for me. "You're quick, and a great fighter. I'm honored to be your competitor." Another trick learned from Daven. He gave me so many proper lessons on becoming likable and making peace with my enemies. After a few moments, I lunged again.

[dice=20]

Luckily for me, I was quick enough to evade any parry she had in mind. The tip of my epee touched her chest, and I was awarded a point. I quickly retreated back into a defensive stance. Watching, waiting.

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[Jimmeh!]

elspeth anastasia moreno

Say what you like about the girl, she certainly knew how to handle herself. The perfect little aristocrat, fighting an honour bout. I on the other hand? I fought to win. Her words ring in my ears, a snarl gripping my face, though invisible, if such things were possible she would feel it. My eyes never leave her, reading her movements. She lunges again, this time making the mark, the buzz echoing the light thump to the chest, my parry too slow. I press her while she retreats, the tiniest of motions twirling her blade out of the way, before lifting it up, spinning on my forefoot, driving the blade forward...

[dice=20]

... at the last moment I veer the blade downwards, striking the knee, the familiar buzz sounding in my ears. My snarl is coupled with a growl, before disengaging, flicking her blade aside with my own. 'I don't need telling that from a girl who is losing...' My tone is condescending, dry, scathing. I step a feint, just to try and set her off balance, maintaining an even guard, watching, waiting...

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[Matt]

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~[x]~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I admired the Moreno's snarky and confident attitude. She was probably someone I could get along with, if I gave a damn about making any friends. Daven was the only thing close to even being my friend. Other than Milo Shore, of course. We lost contact a while ago, and I'd never admit it, but I still have a soft spot for the brother of Phenakite. Her epee hit me in the knee, and I jumped back in an attempt to dodge the hit. It was unsuccessful, however, as I began to lose my balance. Bring myself forward with a hop, I simultaneously kept myself from falling and lunged at the girl.

[dice=20]

I found myself grinning from behind my mask. Since the first altercation, she hasn't been able to parry any of my attacks yet. Neither have I, however. I stand there watching her, ready to deflect her blade at any time necessary.

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[Jimmeh!]

elspeth anastasia moreno

It seemed parries were a rarity in this bout, as once more, we exchanged evenly, though my opening return proved to have kept me a point ahead. Two apiece. She caught me in the arm on a following lunge, a hopping strike catching me off guard, with it's suddenness. Though I'm impressed by the strike, but I show it not, simply react, peeling away from her, before darting in once again...

[dice=20]

... a penetrating strike driving towards her hip, catching her full once again. At this rate, we shall be done quickly, seemingly unable to exchange blows without taking one in return. It's a blistering exchange, a flurry of activity, so often the hallmark of épée, a burst of activity, then a short respite. We have yet to have such rest, however, and despite the relatively brief exchange, my pulse has risen, my breathing elevated. 3-2 to me. A good start.

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[Matt]

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~[x]~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The two of us were strong in our offensive motions. Hit after hit, point after point. My head was focused on winning, searching her body for any weak points that she couldn't parry. My epee was grasped tightly, my mind focused both on her blade and her movements. I needed to parry her attacks if I had a chance of retaining the upper advantage. When the moment arose, I attacked.

[dice=20]

The epee hit her chest and the buzzer sounded, indicating a point. Not daring to take my eyes off of her, I spoke. "We're just going to do this back and forth all day?" My mind was focused on her blade, studying her sways and motions, hoping to anticipate the next lunge.

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[Jimmeh!]

elspeth anastasia moreno

Again, the trade. Not exactly what I wanted, but I was happy to be locked in this stalemate for the time being. Not least, because I was winning. My parry was late in catching her blade, forcing a disengage, lest I open myself up to further points. I take a moment to catch my breath, feinting darting lunges with my steps. A few more moments pass, before once again, I dart forward...

[dice=20]

... before double taking, stoppering my slide through her guard, shifting direction once again, driving the tip toward her foot, her guard closing off all other scores this time. I hate going for the feet. A cheap way to get a point generally. So few fencers have the wherewithal to be able to track the rapid change in blade direction. A backhanded sweep of the blade makes good my retreat, and once again, I take the lead. I snarl behind the mask once more. You could always give up now and save your breath.

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[Matt]

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~[x]~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Another trick, and another hit to the lower part of my body. Damn, I should have expected that. I pray to Ripred that I can at least parry the next attack, but now I'm focused on my offensive movements. With focus and determination, I don't wait another moment before planning my next attack. However, before I go in for another point, I speak up in response to her comment. "You could always go fuck yourself."

[dice=20]

I really shouldn't have been so cocky and arrogant with my words. She parries my attack, and I bite my lip in utter disappointment. Now she definitely has the advantage. I don't give up though, and I never will. I just need to learn to keep my damn mouth shut. I ready my blade in a defensive position, calculating her thoughts and movements the best way I can.

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[Jimmeh!]

elspeth anastasia moreno

The ferocious grin on my face echoes the raw malice that seems to fuel my every being. The same malice that makes me a terror in the night at home. The one who stalks the shadows. The girl who claims throats, for nothing but the pleasure of watching their lifeblood trickle away like a gutted slaughter animal. Her vitriolic response to my jibe seems to distract her, and her attack is clumsy, walking clean into a swaying parry, before wheeling into the tiniest of feints, before pressing a high line attack, lunging forward...

[dice=20]

... the tip slipping through her guard once again, catching her full on the sternum. Again the tip of my épée flicks upward, darting backward once again, my footwork hoping to keep me in safety. Thus far, each of my attacks has slotted home, taking my score to five. A third of the way. I growl once more from behind the mask. Funny, I could always just ask one of the boys to do that for me, if I really wanted something so fleeting. A grin once again, eyes narrowing behind the mesh veil. You know what they say, how pain and pleasure are so alike? Well, pain is temporary, pride is forever. Same can be said for your carnal pass times.

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[Matt]

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~[x]~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I was slipping farther and farther behind, and I needed a few parries to catch up. I remained focused, and while I wanted to say so many things to the girl I refused to. I crouched and then lunged in a flash, hoping for a hit.

[dice=20]

I managed to hit her hand, but I didn't celebrate yet. I prepared for a parry, watching her intently.

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[Jimmeh!]

elspeth anastasia moreno

Seems when she shuts her mouth she can actually get things right. Her lunge catches me on the hand, a slight sting, less painful, more irritating, simply because I let a point through no matter. I step back, keeping her just out of full stretch, my diminutive stature hindering my lunge length somewhat, but I make up for my lack of strike distance with speed and precision. The same speed and precision that has allowed me tear into an early lead. A quick feinted step, before once again dashing forward, backstepping, then driving the épée...

[dice=20]

... below her guard into her hip. Once again, the tip catches her, the buzz signifying another point, a faint smile lighting up my face. It doesn't last long, as once again, I dart backward, covering my steps with warding strikes, trying to keep myself out of close quarters, where literally anything can happen, and out of her reach, where my speed can keep me at the advantage. 6-4 Elspeth. This is mine to win.

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[Matt]

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~[x]~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

This would make up for one hell of a comeback story, I decided. I felt it deep down that I would come back and win the tournament, that maybe I could find the Moreno's weakness and exploit it. Without another thought, I lunged.

[dice=20]

Another hit to the arm. I can still do this. Ripred knows I can do this.

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[Jimmeh!]

elspeth anastasia moreno

Again, she catches me on the arm. No matter. I still lead by one point. And one point is all it takes to win. I don't even bother to try and parry this one, I'm not set right, shifting my weight to press forward into her lunge, with a counter of my own...

[dice=20]

... I take her in the stomach Like so many others, only there's that sweet release of crimson vitae to follow..., her lunge effectively countered by my own point. Seven five to me. Only eight more to go, with two in hand. Again, I back off from her, flicking her blade aside, making a non-commital stab toward her, before settling back into a defensive posture, again, unorthodox, blade angled down instead of up, higher up than normal, more akin to a coiled viper, waiting to strike.

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