A new partner ATTN Connor

[Dan]

Elisha Alehdren

The day was bright, the sky clear of clouds. The sunshine did little to help ignore the frigid wind blowing throughout the two rivers. She could see her breath creating a fine mist that floated ever slowly into the air. She tried to ignore the snowflakes gently travelling the wind.

Reaching down, she stretched, her hands towards her left foot. Elisha focused on the strain of her muscles, appreciating the illusion of warmth the exercise offered. After a few moments, she stood tall, and bent down again, stretching towards the other foot. She tried to ignore the fact that her training uniform did little to keep her warm.

Standing up again, she sighed. She was not impressed with this idea of training in cold weather, but she did understand the reasoning. How could she one day protect an Aes Sedai or Asha'man if she could not handle a little cold. It made plenty of sense! She just did not enjoy it.

Rubbing her hands together, she wondered how long until her sparring partner would arrive. Connor, she thought the man was called. She knew nothing about the man, which she guessed was the entire point of the exercise. Spar against someone you knew nothing about, resulting in training against someone who you could not predict. So many developed the bad habit of sticking to the same routines over and over again, becoming predictable in battle.

[Carra]

Conor Palfrey Why to I always have to fight Women? It had been a while since he last sparred outside of a class. Amelia didn't really let it go that she had beat him in an unarmed spar, and he would only pass a wink her way just to make her burn red in the way he liked. Not that he teased her, and she did beat him in that spar fair and square, but it was like that unspoken challenge that he thinks she wanted to try again. Maybe to beat him more soundly or to try and toss him around in another type of way. Sometimes women were just confusing.

Then there was Ubriel. That woman had rage issues. And coming from him who was originally Cairma's favorite punching bag was saying something. Not that he could blame her, really. He wasn't taking a lot of things seriously, he still wasn't, but at least he got her to see her perspective. A code of some kind unique to him. It made sense to him and at least she hasn't tried to smother him with a pillow at night, not that he thought she would try. Ubriel was good people and he liked her... if she smiled more. Maybe it was time to prank that woman... She did get so pretty when she was angry.

Conor pondered this thought until he rounded his way to the sparing rings, seeing a gorgeously tall red-haired woman. His heart skipped a beat, knowing that the only reason she was here was to attempt to spar with him. A Ji'dar like Ubriel and himself, Conor could only conclude that she was Elisha. Burn me, she looks like Sahra... His heart ached for that pushed away memory, and then that Palfrey! grin warmed his face. Jumping the fence, Conor strutted up to the woman and held out a hand in greeting. "Conor, Conor Palfrey. I believe I am your sparing partner today? What shall it be? Swords, Staves or hands?" The last an implied innuendo.

[Dan]

Elisha Alehdren

It all came so suddenly, an ox of a man, approaching with the sure step of a confident wolf. He wore the usual training uniform of those of Ji rank. The size of the man, with that dangerous smile, it all struck Elisha so quickly, like a thrown dagger you could see coming from several yards away, but yet you could not move in time to dodge it. She was not sure what to think. She craned her neck to meet his gaze, not noticing the proffered hand.

Warm green eyes met with bright Blue.

And that smile of his, it put her on edge.

She had to take a deep, steadying breath.

"Conor, Conor Palfrey. I believe I am your sparring partner today? What shall it be? Swords, Staves or hands?" the man had said. But she only partially paid attention to his words, missing what was clearly the man attempting to flirt with her. She bit her bottom lip nervously. She reached up with her left hand, and tucked away a strand of hair behind her ear.

There were very few men she felt comfortable around, even after years of relative safety within the walls of Hama Valon. She had of course always felt safe with her healer, Daric Asha'man. And there was Seth, who she also owed her life to. Though if the latter knew how much she appreciated him, she would feel rather embarrassed.

She shook the man's hand, once she noticed it hanging there. She felt relieved when she realized the ox of a man paid no heed to her awkward delay. She couldn't help but notice how bigger his hand was compared to her own! Thankfully, while his grip was firm, it was also strangely gentle. She really did not know what to think, she usually felt one thing or another when meeting a man. She could not decide on what kind of first impression this Conor made.

She looked away, and offered the man a small, brief smile. "Blades." She replied, after an awkward silence. Taking her hand back, she vaguely recalled that her old pupil, Ubriel, had once mentioned a Conor. She wondered if this was one was the same.

[Carra]

Conor Palfrey She... This one is Special. "Blades it is." He declared and gave her a courtesy bow, and a gentler smile. She seemed skittish, hesitant around him. Whether it was from his size or from just being shy, he didn't want to start off a spar on the wrong foot. Her beautiful hair just gleam like ruby lace in the sun, and he held his breath a moment. Burning fire, there were no ashes in her hair. Just like...

Conor cleared his throat and unsheathed his two swords, a short sword and a bastard sword his preference by far. "So. What do you want to play by. Three marks? Nothing too bloody?" Honestly, he didn't know what sort of weapons she was bringing to the spar, but with the lack of a sword strapped to her waist, her ever so perfect waist, he could only guess that she used daggers. That made for an interesting spar. It wasn't often he sparred outside his weapon choices, although in this case Conor admitted he might be uncomfortable sparring unarmed with her. Not that he could place why he felt that way.

[Dan]

Elisha Alehdren

"Three marks is fine." She replied. She felt awkward with this man, the way he looked at her, the way he politely bowed to her. The way he smiled, she could not decide if she should return the smile, or throw a rock at his face! She settled with averting her gaze, unable to comfortably weather his warm regard.

But even as she looked at the ground, in spite of the chilled wind, her face felt warm. It felt much as it had when Seth had carried her in his arms, in the pouring rain. Remembering that brief time at the inn, safe in his tender care. She felt warm all over. She bit her bottom lip, knowing that this was not the time to be thinking of men that way.

"Three marks." She said again, as she unsheathed her two daggers. The one in her right hand was a straight blade, the steel appearing dull in the gloomy weather. The dagger in her left hand was slightly curved. Her left foot slid forward slightly, as the right turned to the side. Her right hand hung near her right hip, while the wickedly curved blade hovered a foot from her left breast.

"Three." She said, the word filled with more confidence. "Nothing too bloody." She added in agreement. She shoved all thoughts of men and of warmth deep within a cold well, deep within her mind. She drowned it all out. She needed focus, she needed to prove that Vibyka Gaidar had not wasted her time in training her.

[Carra]

Conor Palfrey Conor gave a simple bow turning his blades on his wrists, "As the Lady has spoken. Will you prefer I use one blade or two? I have no preference." He waited and let her choose as he gave her a watchful eye. She was thin and shy, but there was a sureness to her steps that proved that she had earned her rank as Ji'dar. He had to appreciate that strength even if it did not appear readily in her demeanor.

Being the larger force of the two, Conor eased into a defensive stance. "Bring it," he called to her in challenge, "Let's see what you can do!" While it would be simple to simply attack and force her to be defensive, it really wasn't his style. She had the advantage in the close sparing while he had great reach not just with his swords but also with his physical size.

It also meant he needed to be able to defend himself in close combat against such attackers, while she would need to be comfortable challenging someone that was larger than her. Few were as big as him in the Yard that weren't already bonded or retired.

Conor took his swings and strikes with care, he did not want to end the spar too soon, but he did test her defense as she tried to break into his. Instead of using her daggers to parry, she used her body to move more out of the way, which was smart. Elisha was fast and nimble, but neither one of them really tried a strike, but then Conor waited for Elisha to make the first move.

[Dan]

Elisha Alehdren

It did not take long for Elisha to recognize Connor's experience. The man had a firm grip on his weapons, and had solid footwork. It quickly became obvious with his attacks that he was testing her, experimenting to see how she would react. That was fine with her, since she was doing the exact same.

She side stepped to the left, avoiding a tentative slash at her midsection. As she adjusted her positioning, the man did the exact same, shifting just enough to keep facing her. She tentatively slashed with her curved dagger, only to have the man shift position again. It was a dance both participants embraced, as man and woman poked and prodded each other, seeking an opportunity. It was like two sides of a coin, both sides dancing to the same tune, each with steps in tune with the other.

Shifting yet again, she avoided another swift attack from the Ji'alantin. As she moved, she concentrated on the man's positioning, yet also focusing upon her own. If this continued for much longer, it would become a battle of attrition. It would no longer be an issue of range, but instead whom would tire first. It was clear to anyone watching that neither opponent wasted more energy than was needed.

A thought crept in through her focus, which she quickly tried to crush. Her brows furrowed in frustration. She nearly got clipped by one of Connor's blades. She could not shake off the doubt seeping in. Who would slip first? Would her part of the dance create an opening for the swordsman, with the longer reach? Or would his dance begin showing a predictable pattern she could take advantage of. Who would step out of tune first?

Step, thrust, dodge, step, slash, shift. She would not let him step back, would not let him gain the range he needed to shift the tide of the spar. Yet he would not let her gain any ground, knowing the danger of letting the woman through his guard.

Elisha had to give Connor credit, the man seemed to lack the bad habit many of their peers had; he did not slip into any predictable patterns, at least not that she could spot.

But she was getting to understand how far he was willing to push an attack. It was like he was getting used to her footwork, like he was able to match her step, and step again, and again, knowing the dance as well as she did, if not better. He knew when to push, and how she would react when pushed.

Shifting the grip of her curved dagger, reached with her left and pushed the man's second blade, when it had come slashing. She pushed, trying to make his weapon overextend. She then tried thrusting with her other dagger. But she knew the attack would fail, seeing his feet adapt to the new shift in the dance.

She adjusted her feet, and rejoined the dance.

[Carra]

Conor Palfrey He tested her, and measured, and while his blade found weaknesses there was skill and even learning in her movements that showed growth and potential. Conor frowned inwardly as he thought this, strange to measure his opponent in such a way that made him feel more Gaidin or Ji then he felt like Conor or a Palfrey!. Not that he had that type of pride in his name, not the family, but he did in himself. Yet as they sparred back and forth Conor found himself regarding her without humor. Ubriel ought to be happy at that, were she to see this. Even his usual smile faded to something different, mature. And not as much him as Conor would have.

Light! He was getting mature! He should just throw the match, let her have a win and take himself to the Tavern for a good drink and a few good slaps from failed attempts to woo. Just enough to put him in his place. But as Elisha met his metal, moving back, and testing his reach and reaction, Conor knew he couldn't just throw the spar like that. She would know and judge him for it. Judge him poorly. They both were meant to be good and to get better which was why they both stepped up to join in the series of spars in the first place.

Step, thrust, dodge, step, slash, shift.

There was a variety to their steps, while still maintaining the dance seen in those that had been well trained in the art of their weapon. They danced as they spared but the only ones that knew their steps was them, and how they chose to react to the others offense or defense. It was really quite beautiful, as she was with the sweat sheen on her skin. Red hair that brought back memories and he wondered if she carried the temper of the fire haired women he had known. Her steady hand and gate contradicted with her shy personality that seemed to skirt away from him when they had shook hands. Was she only so confident with her blades or was she more?

They met, blades kissed arms folded and pushed back, Conor's thoughts both on her and their match. Elisha met his off hand blade, pushing on it as he has brought it down in a slash. She pushed to make him extend, but he didn't as it would be a fatal mistake to leave himself open with his second weapon. Her dagger dame in, thrusting at his torso and he met it with his main hand, the dagger dangerously close to the pommel of the blade but it wasn't her target. She was fighting a battle she couldn't win if she didn't find a way to disarm him. And so, to teach her this, he did what he did best.

He started fighter her to make her lose her weapons. A Gaidin without weapons was a dead Gaidin and it would be enough. The thought made him smile, and his feet shifted to trick her into moving close. He wanted her close to unarm her. The grin he gave, the trick he wanted to play, felt very Palfrey! and it made him feel like him. Even if she was pretty enough that he wouldn't mind her winning.

[Dan]

Elisha Alehdren

As they danced, she could feel herself tire. She could feel her arms tiring, slowly, yet surely. She could feel sweat dripping down her face, into her eyes, down her back, between her breasts. She could feel a slow burn taking root in her hips, and legs. She had to grip her weapons more carefully, feeling her palms getting moist with the exertion of the spar.

While she was beginning to feel the toll of the dance, her partner seemed to be getting invigorated as time passed. His feet moved quickly, his breathing continuing steadily. His hands moved swiftly, his wrists and elbows guided his weapons surely. Steadily, but surely he was gaining an advantage.

A growing dread was taking root in her gut, that this giant of a man was in more control of this dance than she had guessed. It was now obvious to her that he was a man with a plan. Her arms felt the burn, as she wielded her weapons, doing her best to keep up with the dance. His weapons slashed, hacked, and thrust ever so quickly!

But as the dance continued, realization dawned upon her. While his blades grew ever faster, and more precise. The man's footwork was beginning to follow a slight pattern. She kept going, blades deflecting tentative strikes, feet and torso's maintaining that so short, yet so distant space between them.

She knew she did not have much left, she would slow down soon, giving the large, more experienced dance partner an edge. With an edge, comes opportunity. She had to take a risk, it was the only option she had. Moving forward, her arm did not move quickly enough, her wrist did not shift swiftly enough. She took a clean cut to her right arm.

But she accepted the pain. She kicked with her left leg, aiming for the man's knee. She then thrust with her right, dagger aiming for that soft spot above the hips, and below the ribs. Realizing that such a thrust was a killing blow, she sabotaged her own attack, not wanting to injure this amazing dance partner. She did not want to injure this man, nor was she sure why it was suddenly so important to her.

[Carra]

Conor Palfrey All the sparing with Cody in the forests beyond were starting to show its gain as he had yet to feel himself tire as they sparred on. There was some fatigue in his off hand where he kept the one weapon, and he was starting to weigh the risks of dropping it and favoring just the one blade instead of both, but when his opponent faltered and took a hit, two, he started to plan how best to relieve himself of the added weight without the risk of his partner or the spectators.

Always the entertainer, the spar with this lovely red haired woman had him lost in the movements that the added eyes were more foreground then something he played to. Enticing his sparring partner was often an added flavor but she... Elisha.. There was a certain respect that she gave the Spar that instinctively Conor responded in kind. Had it been Ubriel... or Cody. Well, that would be different.

Her stab to his solarplex area was barely deflected by the blade as she brought down a kick into his knee. Two. Short as she was, he was able to shift enough that the kick didn't connect where she was aiming but Conor sensed the pain of it. Pain in a spar lost on him after all his training with Cairma. Disciplined in handling the pain, Conor's footwork made a v' shifting into Elisha's weak side and relinquishing himself of the one blade with a casual toss - Yani would likely yell at him for the care of the sword - and switched to just the one hand and her offside. One more hit.. just one more mark, and the sparring will be called and Conor was very firmly on the offense with his one blade, superior than the use of just the one, trying to get her to falter and fade while he was only gaining a second wind.