Ian was lost. Terribly so. The day had started with him attempting to find a source of income, which didn't go too well. What HE'D say the reason was was jealousy of his looks, but the real reason was simply because he gave people the creeps. Wearing all red and black would do that. And having hair that looks like it was a masterwork Bronze artifact didn't help at...All. Reflecting sun in people's eyes just because he stood outside was a bad thing for socializing.

And then the day went downhill when he decided he needed some solitude. Wandering for a quiet spot eventually turned into wandering for a WAY OUT!

"ARGH!" He loudly blurted out. Actually, that was a dumb thing to do, considering the local monsters and wildlife would hear him,a nd no doutb were more aware of their surroundings then he. But he was pissed off, and angry people don't act rationally often.

Meanwhile, some distance away, Meglumar lay sleeping in a large growth of bushes. He'd been through those woods roughly 18 hours earlier, thanks to the aide of Ecthel Winters. However, not long AFTER getting out, he finally succumbed to exhaustion. Not surprising, though. He had not slept since helping the elf girl Sibyl in Tauri a few days ago. To be frank, it was amazing he was even able to stay awake that long in the first place. Surprisingly enough, though, it seemed the gods were finally on Meglumar's side.

The bushes Meglumar had fallen into were surprisingly helpful. They provided a sort of cushion for the young paladin, and it also provided him a hiding place from wild animals. It was truly amazing. The shade from the nearby trees also helped to keep him cool from the heat the day had, while his home-made, green hooded cloak warmed him during the night. Truly, it was an amazing spot of luck, especially considering how Meglumar's exhaustion-induced snoring could, very likely, wake the dead.

Inside his mind, Meglumar was dreaming of being a heroic paladin. He had a large hammer on his back, and a longsword at his side, with shining golden armor. A small swarm of undead creatures and werewolves had swarmed a small town. It was then that he arrived, naturally sensing the evil the town had gained. He pulled the hammer off his back, and charged into the town.

The poor zombies did not stand a chance. With each swing of his hammer, a zombie was burned by holy flames! With each loud slam to the ground, a werewolf had it's brains splattered out. In less than a day, all of the undead hordes and foul evil beings were exterminated, and he was on his way once again.

Meglumar smiled behind his black and white mask as he continued to snore. Some day....some day...I'll be like that. He subconsciously thought.

Ian heard the snoring. It was loud. It was painfully loud. It was pure auditory torture. Clamping hsi hands down over his ears, Ian wondered aloud at the source of the noise.

"Oh god no, I can't be near the ocean, can I? Wait, no...there's no ocean around here...so why do I hear a foghorn?" Clearly, Ian had mistaken the snoring for a loud warning often given to ships to warn them of the shore, or even other ships. Or a Lighthouse. Or anything that would be a danger at sea, really. Function of a Foghorn aside, Ian debated in his mind the pro's and con's of following the noise.

"It could lead me out...BUT IT'D BE SO LOUD UP CLOSE! Or it could be a monster. Or it could be an enemy...Hmmm...Lead, Loud. Lead? Loud? Lead? Loud? Decisions...."

"SNOOOOOOOOOOOOOORE...."

"AUGH, FORGET IT! If I can find the source, I can END THIS AUDITORY AGONY!"

Ian stomped his way over to the source and found one Meglumar Odai, napping not-so-peacefully. Immediately Ian's temper flared. Well fine, If Meglumar was going to unconsciously torture Ian with the closest thing to a medieval sonic weapon, Ian would get some payback. Ian carefully took a hold of Meglumar's mask, and gently, oh so gently, began trying to tug it off. If he succeeded, he would immediately throw it like a Frisbee (Or Chakram, if you prefer historical accuracy) as far as he could. He saw how Meglumar freaked out without it. Hell, if it wasn't at hand, Ian figured, he migth actually have a heart attack.

Clank!

Smack!

Crunch!

ROOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOAAAAAR!

As the mask flew, it ended up in the forest, where it had apparently hit something. Whatever it was, it was not happy about being hit by a strange black and white mask that was just flying around. There were several loud smashing noises, and a few crunching noises, and something that sounded like something was being eaten.

PTHEW!

The mask flew back out, and skidded by Ian, the black half of the mask completely destroyed. The white half, meanwhile, had several cracks, was covered in what was HOPEFULLY saliva, albeit of a purple color, and overall smelled like it went through the worlds worst perfume and potions shop.

Meglumar finally awoke, though, when a fly landed on his now exposed nose. His eyes slowly opened, and he yawned a loud yawn. "Ugh...what happened....." He muttered, sitting up, his head and upper torso now completely out of the vegetation, as opposed to being inside it. At first, he did not seem to realize he was not wearing his mask.

He then saw something out of the corner of his eye. Something bronze. Was there another wandering merchant out to try to sell him a cheap bronze sword. "Ugh....look, you scam artists, for the last time, i don't want that cheap bronze butter knife you call a sword." He said, turning. Oh, it was Ian Vaner. This was going to be interesting, to say the least, considering Meglumar had suspicions Ian was evil.

"Oh. my apologies, Mr. Vaner, I thought you were someone else! How have you been, since our fateful meeting inside of Lómëdor?" He asked, still not realizing his mask was off. Though, chances were, when he did, loud noises was likely going to be the least of Ian's worries.

Ian was quick to shift blame from himself. He regarded Meglumar as a newbie Paladin, and assumed that he was not trained to detect lies. And so, he began working his way with words.

"I'm doing decent...Some good, some bad...You on the other hand have a problem...Why you thought sleeping in a misty wilderness was a good idea is beyond me, but it appears something...nasty, got to your mask. If I had to guess, some pixie, or perhaps more then one, tugged it off and fed it to a bear or...actually, I don't know WHAT that purple stuff on it could be from... I just came from that direction." And he pointed in the direction opposite the one he actually had.

"You have a spare, presumably? Someone with your phobia of being seen would be the sort to do that..."

Ian was a quick thinker, but he was underestimating Meglumar quite a bit, no doubt.

After hearing Ian's story, Meglumar's face went pale. Paler than pale, at that. You could SEE the red and blue veins in his face. He looked down and saw his mask, what was left at it, at any rate. He started to hyperventilate for a moment, as his stood up, and moved over to the mask. He kneed down to look at it, and looked as if he was on the verge of crying. "N....N....No....This can't be happening. Not now. Not here." He then looked up at the sky, with a look of pure sadness, as if he was crying to the gods.

"WHHHHHHHHHYYYYYYYY!?!"

This loud scream of his seemed to echo through the area, and actually scared some of the wild life away. Gods only knew what Ian would feel as he heard it. Perhaps it was karmic retribution for his misdeeds? Rather fitting, in a way. After all, stealing a paladin's mask, throwing into the unknown, and blaming it's destruction on pixies? Such an immoral thing to do.

After this loud scream, though, he began to hyperventilate again as Ian's words fully reached his brain. A second mask? Did he have one? He thought for a moment, then smiled. He DID have a second mask! He got it as a buy one get one free from the shop he visited, something Meglumar had never seen from a shop! He reached to his back, and there was the spare. "You were right...spare mask. Thank the gods!" He said, looking up again, this time with eyes filled with joy, as if saying thank you. A shame that the gods were not really even responsible for Meglumar's horrid luck, or his good fortune. But maybe he'd realize that himself.

He placed the new mask on his face, and sighed with relief. "So, Mr. Vaner, what brings you to this neck of the woods? he asked, curious. Maybe he was plotting EVIL deeds of some sort, in which case he might need to observe him.

Ian wasn't listening. Or rather, he couldn't listen. The second after Meglumar screeched out, Ian dropped down to all fours, wrapped his cloak around his head, and clamped his hands around his ears. And was screaming in pain. And was temporarily deaf.

"AAAAAAAUUUUUGH!"

It was actually rather frightening to have a sense suddenly cut off. It was all quiet to him. An improvement in his way of thinking, but still scary. Ian couldn't tell when the sound ended, so he just stayed where he was, just in case when his hearing abruptly came back, he wouldn't have to endure it all over again.

And so, Ian would Spend the next few minutes not responding to anything Meglumar said. Eventually, he regained the divine gift of auditory sensation. And was further "rewarded" by a throbbing agony as the blood in his eardrums practically gave him an aneruysm.

"AAAAAAUUUUUGH!"

And so, Ian was showing one of HIS weaknesses to Meglumar, Sound.

Meglumar blinked behind his back up mask as Ian screamed out in agony. Holy crap, what happened? Was he stabbed by an invisible person? Shot by a tiny arrow? Did Meglumar step on his foot? What prompted Ian to scream like this? "Uh.....Mr. Vaner? Are you alright?" He asked, actually kinda worried.

He then saw blood drip out of Ian's ear. Not a lot, but enough to give him a hint as to what the reason for Ian's pain was. He must have some elf blood in him, to have such sensitive hearing. "Oh...OH.....My apologies, Mr. Vaner, let me take care of that." He said, hold his hand to Ian's head. They began to glow blue, as Meglumar recited once more the spell needed to heal someone's body.

"Blessed gods, Heal his wounds and keep death at bay." He muttered, as the spell stopped the bleeding inside Ian's eardrums. "Again, my apologies....I didn't expect you to be so...so.....sensitive to loud noises. It's a miracle you even got out of the city alive." He said, keeping quiet, yet loud enough to be heard. The city WAS very loud, what with so many people doing so many things. It was louder than Meglumar was, that's for sure. Maybe he just waited til night and slipped out then.

"As I was saying....what brings you out this way? Business of some sort? Just wandering around? Lost?" He asked, wondering even more as time went on. Ian was possibly the first evil person he met on his trip. Rather, the first truly evil person he'd met. He'd me thieves, bandits, monsters, and the like, but none were planning anything evil and destructive, like what Ian might be planning. After all, half the spells Ian mentioned in Lómëdor were typically used to kill people in painful ways!

Ian groaned. Secrecy be damned!

"Dark...Regeneration."

And with that, distinctly chaotic, dark energy swirled briefly around Ian's head. The Holy magic left a stinging sensation. It didn't hurt particularly, but Ian had had enough of the Auditory pain. He had reached his breaking point. He knew Meglumar would attack. Damned people, Ian thought, what with their singlemindedness. He knew Meglumar wouldn't even CONSIDER Ian a non-threat for using Darl Regeneration. Truth be told, Ian hadn't done anything truly evil. Immoral, yes, but not EVIL or SADISTIC. He just had a very dark being. He kept many devious thoughts inside. He hadn't done anything wrong yet simply because he lacked the ability to do so.

"So...Meglumar Odai, Paladin...No doubt you see me as an enemy now!" And with that, Ian placed his hand on the grip of his sword under his cloak, ready to block any incoming blows.

Meglumar sighed as he heard Ian activate a spell of his own. A dark, evil version of healing. He took a step back, and placed his hand on his sword. "What crimes have you committed?" He asked, a serious look on his face. This was going to get violent very very soon. Meglumar had no way to stop Ian, either, aside from swordsman skills. His work on Holy attack spells were not going so well.

Oh well, Meglumar WAS confident of his sword skills. He pulled out his sword, it's silver blade and crimson hilt reflecting the light of the sun. He wasn't going to make the first blow, of course. If Ian WAS without crime, attacking him in and of itself would be a crime. And generally, Paladins who commit crimes do not stay paladins for very long.

He stared at Ian, with resolve. He hoped he would make the first move, Oh how he hoped Ian would! If he did, Meglumar could take him down and stop whatever insidious plans he had could be accomplished. Then again, Ian seemed to know a lot about Paladins. He probably KNEW Meglumar could not make the first blow legally. This meant, if he was half as smart as Meglumar guessed, he'd just start taunting. If he was AS smart as he thought, he knew Ian would just stay silent, and walk off. After all, fighting words could be used as grounds for a defense for Meglumar.

He began to sweat under his mask. What would this man do? Did he manage to BUY any spells since they had last met? If he bought any of those nasty spells, he'd be in trouble. He'd probably end up dead. But, no matter what, if Ian attacked, Meglumar would fight, and die if need be. He made an Oath, and he was going to keep it. He would fight evil, wherever it reared it's ugly head!

Ian blinked his eyes slowly, gradually letting his eyelids fall down, where they stayed in place, closed, for a few seconds before he opened them again. He switched to a much more noble tone of speech. It was an attempt at intimidation.

"I have not committed anything against the laws of man, nature, or the gods, keep thy sword sheathed. I am not wanted anywhere, save in the hearts of women, and you should be familiar with that." He suddenly jabbed his sword into the ground. "The Paladin drew first...Both in conclusion and blade. My use of this magic of the dark sort keys in though, something you should note."

He took a breath.

"I know what is first in every warrior's mind. "What is my foe capable of?" The Warrior knows his own limits, he should know the environment. It is only, then, the factor of his opponent. Meglumar Odai, you should be wondering what I am capable of, but you should focus your thoughts elsewhere. I have not commited any sins, yet I am able to use dark magic. Why? It is my very soul. It is, and forever was, full of contempt and evil. My intentions are those that would damn any to hell. Why was I born with such an evil soul? I do not know. Perhaps some divinity had an ironic hand in it. Perhaps I was fate. Or perhaps It was NOT always there, and grew on it's own. But it is there, and I will enjoy seeing what you do about it, Meglumar Odai."

Meglumar heard Ian's talk. No crimes, and talk that was not considered "fighting words." Born with an evil soul? He could believe that, considering the dark god Raku was supposedly such a monstrous being with no desire short of the destruction of goodness and light. If Ian Vaner was born with an evil soul, it would explain how he was able to use the dark arts of healing.

"I may have drawn first...but your hand grabbed your sword first!" Meglumar said, still on edge, but placing his sword back in it's sheath. He kept his hand on the hilt, though. This was likely a trick, after all, to try and get him to lower his guard. It was not going to work, though. "And as for what I will do about you...."

Meglumar's face beneath his mask grew a great deal more serious. "I can't do a thing today, now can I? You're legally in the clear, so I can't touch you. Yet. But hear me, Mr. Vaner, the millisecond you try something, I know for a fact that the nearest warrior of goodness will fight to stop you." He said, with complete confidence. The forces of good would stop the forces of evil, or die trying.

Still, though, he worried quite a bit. Ian was but one person. Could he be one of many? He had heard rumors of a group of evil people bent on the destruction of those who fought for justice. Could Ian be one of these people? If he was, Meglumar would probably be unable to tell. The same problem existed if he wasn't. Meglumar WISHED he could have learned and mastered the ability to detect the truth in a person. A shame that it was too late for that now.

Ian was a bit taken aback. He wondered is he had understimated Meglumar. He wasn't thinking about the speech he had just given about goodness and light and crap like that, but the fact he was able to tell he had grabbed his sword first.

"Well, well, Meglumar. We both possess Healing Magic...and are at a stalemate. I seem to have underestimated you, your ability to discern that I had gripped my sword first is impressive. However...doubtless you know nothing of what I am capable of, and perhaps assume the worst. How about then, a "Friendly duel", to assure each of us the extent of the other's skill? Surely the Paladin's Code would allow for such a thing, it would be informative, I will have consented, and it is excellent training, so long as neither of us strike a serious blow....what say you? Put our assumptions aside, and find the truth behind the other?"

A "friendly duel?" That was an interesting suggestion. It WOULD be a good way to train, and to see how far he had grown since last he took a serious duel. What did he have to lose? So long as they both agreed no life threatening strikes, it would turn out just fine, for both of them. If Meglumar did well enough, he might be able to scare Ian into stopping any evil plans. He knew, though, that it would be unlikely. Still, a man can dream, can't he?

"....A "friendly" spar, no life threatening blows? Why not? As you said, great practice.....and it will give us an idea as to what we will face, no?" He said, unsheathing his sword yet again. He put the sword in his right hand, and got ready for this. He wasn't going to pull any punches. He was going to put everything he had into this fight.

"I'm ready when you are." Meglumar said, glancing at Ian's feet to figure out where he would be moving from when this started. If he could figure out from where he would be attacking, he could look up, and move quickly to block and counter, hopefully. All it would take was some speed, and he had good enough reflexes to help him through this fight.

Gods...give me strength. He thought, hoping the gods hear his plee would grant him their power to prove the power of goodness against this dark souled villain. Perhaps, though he thought of the gods too much. Maybe, just maybe, it was time for him to learn he had to not rely on the gods and use his own strength? It WOULD be a fitting scenario in this situation, as Meglumar's luck had yet to cause anything bad to happen yet.

"Alright, let us begin!"

Ian shifted his stance to a combatitive one, with one foot stuck out in front of the other, the other braced backwards at an angle to provide stability. Ian used his fingers to clean off the blade of his sword, to ensure sharpness, and dashed forward, then at a slant to the left, followed by a sudden hook back to the right, which brought him to Meglumar's left side, where he made a quick jab at his left arm, targeting the elbow joint in specific, knowing that, to defend that, the arm itself would have to be pulled back, rather then just a swipe with the sword to block it. And if it WAS pulled back, it would make the only way for the attack to come would be a weak swipe downward, and if that happened, Ian would be able to swing much more strongly at the sword with weak force behind it, hopefully disarming Meglumar. If Meglumar moved back, that put Ian at an early advantage. This was a highly strategic move.

Meglumar saw Ian go into an offensive stance, one he'd not seen before. Not too surprising, Meglumar knew only a small amount of the stances that were in existence. He himself took a defensive stance, preparing to block. Paladin fighting styles were always different, some focused on magic, some focused on offense, but Meglumar was one who focused on defense and wearing his foes out. That, and making them angry so they would make mistakes. But that would not be happening in this duel. He had to keep some things secret in case he fought with Ian in a real fight some day, which was very, very likely.

Meglumar, watching Ian's feet, saw him run forward, and then move to the right, Ian's left. Meglumar moved to his right, only to watch Ian spin around to the left of where he was just standing. A shame, Meglumar would have been best if he had gotten Ian into a sword lock. He was forced to quickly rotate so that he could face Ian once more. Ian then made a quick stab at Meglumar's left arm.

He move his sword so that it would be under Ian's blade, but above his left hand. With a quick motion, his left hand rose upward, pushing is blade, and likely Ian's as well, up and over his shoulder. He then tilted his blade to the left, and jumped over to the right. That was a good attack, too good. Had he been one step close, he'd have taken the hit.

Damn, he's fast. Faster than me. He thought, not too surprised. From his actions, Ian seemed to prefer dancing around his foe and stabbing. His foot work was precise, and very fluid. Meglumar would need one hell of an opening to get the advantage here.

Ian matched Meglumar's movement's, and once Meglumar pulled away, drew his sword back down to arm level. Ian then, regaining his footing, made a loopy, arced dash towards the side of Meglumar that wasn't holding the sword. As he did so, he drew back his sword, as if to swing it in an arc. However, what instead happened was Ian fluidly bringing the sword down, which put great strain on Ian's wrist, as he bent his legs, aiming this time for a jab at Meglumar's knee. With a bit of quick predictive work, Ian knew that Meglumar would most likely make a step backwards and strike a downard blow. So, Ian tensed his muscles and prepared to swing upwards. Investment in an Elven Saber would be a wise choice, Ian ruefully realized...

Ian's thoughts were focused entirely on the battle, with only the tactics and prediction of Meglumar's next move on his mind.

Meglumar saw Ian match his moves, which made him feel uncomfortable. He was starting to feel that Ian might be better skilled than him in swordsmanship. His foot work, his speed, they were both greater than his. He as not sure where they fared on power, not quite yet, since this was only the second "move" in the fight. Still, though, he knew he'd have to be careful, or he would get stabbed.

....Like hs just did. Ian's little move got him in the knee. Meglumar grunted in pain, but then tried to make a stab at Ian's shoulder while Ian's sword was stuck in his knee. Taking a hit to give a hit, as it was, might be the best method for Meglumar. His sword wasn't made for stabbing, it was more of a cutting and blocking blade, though, so his stab attack might not fare too well in this situation.

Ian Groaned as the Sword gashed into his shoulder, leaving a NASTY cut down to the bone. However, he did have one Advantage: Ambidexterity. Ian feigned clutching his shoulder, releasing his sword in Meglumar's knee. He staggered a bit, then quickly grabbed the sword with his opposite hand, and made a slash up across Meglumar's whole frame! Likewise, Ian's Longsword was a bit more for stabbing, so he had to be slashing with the tip only, which while certainly fast, could be easily stepped backwards from. However, Ian once again had this predicted, so he, as he slashed upwards, stood up entirely, and altered his stance, ready to push forward. Ian's fighting style was clear by now. Use quick footwork to box the opponent into moving in only one specific way, thus predicting what the opponent would be doign ahead of time, and preparing for it. Thus, it would be harder and harder to keep balance, and more and more likely that an attack would be successful as the battle wore on. Heaven help the forces of good once Ian got his hands on a Haste Spell and a sword to complement his fighting style!

That blow SEEMED to do the trick, as Ian let go of the sword, and backed away. However, a moment later, he grabbed the sword with his LEFT hand. To hell with this crap. No more mister nice guy. Meglumar was going to take the "Take a blow, then give a blow" trick again, but he was going to take it so that it was in HIS favor. After getting a decent slash to the chest, he raised his left hand, and caught the sword as it reached it's maximum height. This, naturally, cut his hand, but not as bad as he expected it to.

He then moved forward, and tried to slash Ian across his chest at this close range. He then tried to push Ian back by trying to ram him, not that it would hurt too much, just force him back. Meglumar's strength was in, well, his strength at the moment. Speed was not what would save him here. Neither would magic, sadly. Victory would only come if he used his strengths, power and swordsmanship, to their fullest. To try to beat Ian at his own game would be foolish!

Still, though, a duel is not won simply by doing your best. It is won by doing better than your foe, and in this case, Ian had an advantage when he made his slashed Meglumar across the chest. Would his actions even things out? Or were they all be a vain attempt that would leave him to heal his own wounds, and reflect on his failure? Failure DID teach more things than victory, after all. However even as this fight went on, he was learning what he needed to improve on. So no matter how long this went on, or how it ended, Meglumar would take away quite a lot from this.

Ian was caught off guard by the rush. Fortunately, though, he was able to move his sword up, and locked swords with Meglumar. They had the same swords, but Ian was not as muscular as Meglumar, so Meglumar finally had an upper hand right here. Ian was pushing his sword though. He then held up his other hand, using the elbow to prop it up.

"Hold on. We've both taken a few good hits. If we don't want them to be infected, we should take a short break from this to heal up. What say you? We can resume immediately, or after a small break to catch our breath."

It could be interpreted as an attempt to back out of an unfortunate situation, though that wasn't the case. Ian didn't like how much blood was coming out of the shoulder wound, and doubtless the slash across the chest was going to bleed like hell if Meglumar didn't heal that soon. So, this was in their mutual interest for a brief pause.

Ian's interesting request for a time out for healing was quite a good idea. "....Agreed." Meglumar said, hopping back, his knew hurting as he did so. He made a slash with his sword in the air, most of the blood on it flying off. He then re-sheathed the blade, and sat down. His hand started to glow blue, as he healed his chest, with his healing magic. It seemed Meglumar's attempts to force it into a match of power had started to work. Ian was on the defensive for a moment.

He then began to heal his knee. "You're handy with a sword, I'll give you that. Fast and dangerous. Fighting you for real is something I'd not do without armor on." Meglumar said to his foe, begrudgingly admitting he was impressed. Ian was a far better swordsman than Meglumar's father was, at least when Meglumar trained with him. The man was a retired ranger, who settled down with Meglumar's Naiad mother in a small village after he was wounded in a mercenary job. He'd not picked up a sword in years, though, so when he trained Meglumar he was nowhere near at his best. Ian though, was very good, and was such a good challenge that it was surprisingly helpful. Amazing how good luck was coming now.

Once Meglumar's leg was healed, he stood up, his right hand back on his sword's hilt. "Are you ready to continue, or do you want to take a break?" He asked. He was eager to continue, but would wait if need be. This challenge, it was something he enjoyed quite a bit. It was a true test of skill. No matter what happened now, Meglumar knew this fight was going to benefit them both. Whether or not that was a good thing, though, he could not tell.

Ian gave Meglumar a wry grin. To be honest, it felt good to have somethign of a friendly rivalry with someone. It was actually with a degree of sadness Ian thought that the next time they fought, odd's were, it would involve much more blood and much less downtime. It'd likely be a warzone, or a chance meeting. But it would come. Ian was a believer in fate, having been born with an evil soul, it was only natural. Ian believed they would meet many more times, and fight as rivals until one of them dropped dead.

Ian quickly recited the incantation for Dark Regeneration under his breath, and cured his shoulder wound. He also pulled a small flask of water from under his cloak and drank from it, gulping the water down, then placing it back uner his cloak in it's carrying pouch.

"Well, Meglumar, I'm pleased to impress...I could not ascertain your fighting style, as I had you on the defensive. But that suits a Paladin, wearing me down like that. Hmm. Oh, and just to clarify things...yes, it actually WAS me who threw your earlier mask away, though I think I was punished for THAT already. Augh...I need to find myself an enchanted circlet or something, this auditory weakness is going to be the death of me..." He had no qualms against admitting that weakness. let's face it, Meglumar already knew.

Ian stretched out a bit and massaged his legs. "Alright, ready when you are!"

Meglumar laughed a bit when he heard Ian admit that he was the one who destroyed his mask, then complained about his "punishment." "Oh, be grateful it happened now and not later. I'm learning a spell that is based on sound waves. it's hard as hell, but it will be handy if I can ever master it." He said, with a grin that Ian would probably be able to see, regardless of Meglumar's mask. He knew a weakness of Ian's, just as Ian knew Meglumar's weakness regarding his mask. It was even, wasn't it?

He then heard Ian say he was ready to continue, and Meglumar nodded. He drew his blade, and grabbed the hilt with both of his hands. He charged at Ian, and slashed with all his might at Ian's chest, going straight for a powerful blow. He knew it was likely that Ian would dodge this blow, but, hey, if he did not, he'd be down for the count, maybe. "Round 2 will be quite different. You shall be the one on the defensive." He said as he swung his sword towards his new foe. If he tried a whole new approach, he could only learn more, right?

He was curious as to how speedy Ian would try and dodge this. WOULD he dodge? Would he try to block? Not likely. When he tried that earlier, he had to use both hands to counter his one hand. Now that Meglumar was using both hands, Ian would need to grow another hand to keep the blocks going. Meglumar now saw it as a shame that he lacked a two handed, longer sword. he could try to keep Ian at range in that situation. Oh, well, maybe next time they met...if next time they were not fighting to the death.

Ian wasn't one to just watch Meglumar approach, so he entered a strange, bent stance as he came. Ian had the "Tumble" Skill, and he showed it off by suddenly somersaulting into Meglumar's Legs as he readied his swing. Due to the swords position, Meglumar's dash, and shifting fulcrum of balance, Ian predicted that Meglumar would come crashing down, and because Ian was still moving forward, Meglumar would fall down behind him, so he was already straightening up as his roll concluded, starting to spin around as he did.

Inwardly, Ian was screaming. He KNEW what Spell Meglumar was referring to. "Sonic Burst". THE BANE OF HIS VERY EXISTANCE. Ian was tempted to puncture his eardrums with a suture then endure THAT. Perhaps he could find some creative way to use a wind spell to nullify that weakness. So removing Meglumar's Mask made him attractive to women. Big deal. That was a situational weakness AT BEST. Ian's could be potentially fatal. He had to take care of it, and fast.

Meglumar cursed to himself as he saw Ian act like a monkey and flying at his legs. As he predicted, Meglmuar fell down with a thud, his sword ending up in his left hand and his face smashed up against his mask. "Ow." He said, as he got to his knees, spun around, and grabbed his sword with his right hand. So dash attacks like that were stupid against Ian. Good to know. He needed to try something different. What could he do know....Ah, that works. He grabbed the left part of his cloak with his hand. This wasn't goint to be an easy little trick, but it might just work.

He ran at Ian again. Not as fast, of course, but still a decent pace. A she neared him, he threw his cloak off and into the air, where it stayed up for a moment. Ian would not be able to see past it as it was in the air, which meant he would not be able to see where Meglumar's next attacks would come from, hopefully. For once, he was using his environment to help him deal with the fight. Maybe THIS would give him the edge he needed!

He moved to the right, Ian's left, as the cloak floated in the air for the brief moment. He tried to go in for a stab at Ian's forearm, again holding the hilt of his sword with both hands as he attacked. A sword was designed to act like an axe, but an axe that could stab. Ian fought like the longsword was a rapier, but he was ale to use it to slice. Meglumar, though, needed to practice his stabs a bit more. This attack was an attempt to get his practice in.

Ian was certainly caught off guard by THAT. He thought quickly though, and slid his head out from his cloak, which had no hood. This was going to be risky. He swung with his cloak in a wide arc, throwing it to the left as he did so. The arc was aimed at Meglumar's cloak, and if Meglumar was already charging, it would identify where he was, and possibly even slow him down by gettign him tangled up in two cloaks. If not, it would whack the obstructing cloak aside, and allow a clear view. That and it would allow Ian to move slightly faster, the cloak no longer restricting his movements.

The consequence for this brilliant tactic would be the price of vulnerability. While he was swinging, Ian would be more or less helpless if an attack from straight on came, barring the chance of Meglumar being tangled in two cloaks. So as he swung, he held his sword in a defensive way, ready to intercept an incoming attack, if need be.

Well, Meglumar's good luck could not last forever. Ian's cloak stopped Meglumar's attack, as he was caught in it. Also, is started to make him start falling to the ground. He realized, though, that falling with a sword like this was likely going to hurt him, and that he had to "get rid" of his sword for a moment. Yet he did not want to be defenseless and on the defensive again. He had to do something stupid yet smart. Was that even possible in the 1 to 3 seconds he had as he was caught?

Nope. He had to just pull his right arm back as he fell to ensure he did not land on it and end up dying in a humiliating, idiotic, and drop dead funny way. As he fell, though, his left arm tried to grab the cloak and throw it away from him. As he did this, he quickly saw Ian holding his sword defensively. Good, now he really WAS on the defensive! Meglumar took this chance to attack from his compromising position, deciding to take advantage of the fall. He quickly picked his body up with his left arm, brought his right arm and sword up from under him, let himself drop back down as he moved his left arm away, and stabbed at Ian's leg with his sword. Hopefully he was not expecting an attack from below.

The fight was starting to get interesting again. Two cloaks in mid air to try and obscure the other person's vision, one used as a makeshift shield of sorts, And taking advantage of otherwise damning falls, The two were REALLY pushing their skills and minds now. Meglumar could not help but feel sad. He could see Ian doing so much good. But no. He was one of evil. Truly, it was a shame the forces of good were missing out on his aide.

Ian was pleased as Falcon Punch that his gamble had worked out. That was a big risk for him to take, but no risk, no reward. Ian wasn;t going to just watch Meglumar get up, drop down, and then make a stab without doing anything though.

Ian quickly jumped upwards, and changed his swords position to an attack stance, slashing downwards as he came down. Additionally, he was trying to land his weight on Meglumar's sword. If it went well, he'd pin the blade under his feet, and Meglumar would either try to yank it out and waste time doing so, or back off and lose his weapon. Cunning Ian could win the match right here by disarming his opponent. It would be tough though.

Ian briefly noted the two cloaks were tangled up to the left. He winced. Black Cloaks were a pain to get clean, especially when dust was involved.

Meglumar rolled away from Ian's attack, his clothes, stained with the blood from earlier, and now covered in dirt. Once he was far enough away, he moved up to his knees, and then stood back up, keeping himself in a defensive pose. it was too obvious to Meglumar now: He SUCKED using anything other than a defensive stance. If he wanted to win this, he had to focus solely on defense in this. He was kind of sad, a defensive warrior is one always on edge, never really relaxing. it was going to be a hellish way to fight, yet one that would bring him success.

Ian Stood up after that.

"Alright...We know our own strengths and weaknesses now, as well as what the other's are. I think that's enough."

Ian was a bit sore. That was the first time he fought an actual intelligent opponent, as opposed to a training dummy or a beast of some sort. And that wasn't a battle to the death, like many others would be. His muscles ached, particularly his lower back and thighs. He spat on his sword, then wiped it with his cloak, cleaning the blood off it, as he picked his cloak up and re-donned it. The black cloak was dirty, very much so. What a hassle elegance brings, Ian ruminated.

Meglumar froze. Was this a cheap underhanded trick to try to win the duel? Hmm, hard to tell. But, Meglumar was as gullible as they came. He nodded slowly, and re sheathed his sword. He brushed most of the dirt of his his mullet, sighing. His nice green shirt...he'd likely have to buy a new one somewhere. His Brown pants were in a similar state. They'd been through quite a lot, so it was understandable. Still, a shame. Oh well, things had to change, and a wanderer was naturally supposed to throw away the old and take in the new when the old was useless.

"You're quite the sharp one, almost as sharp as your sword." Meglumar said, with a smirk behind his mask as he moved over to his old green hooded cloak and threw it on. "I've hod had a fight like that in a long time." He said, honestly. The closest thing was the fight against the thief, but that did not really count, since she broke his mask and saw his face. That, and the entire strange steel sphere from the sky crashing into town and destroying god only knows how many homes.

He sighed as he reflected on that. He lamented not being able to stop it, but still was curious as to what occurred after that. HOW did that all happen? Was he the one responsible? Or were the gods looking out for that town that day? He shook his head, he needed to stop thinking on that. "Well, then, Mr. Vaner....I hope next time we meet, you still have not committed a crime. It would be a shame to lose a sparring partner with as much skill as you." He said with a small chuckle. He was being honest. It was hard to find good warriors so even if this was a not so good good warrior, so long as he did nothing wrong, maybe things wouldn't have to get bloody.

Ian sheathed his sword. He had no tricks up his sleeve, this was the end of the duel. "Hah...You just wait, Next time we fight, I'll be stronger, and have magic assistance. Try fighting me when I use Blur!"

Ian with Blur? THAT'D be a disaster. Then Again, Meglumar would have Sonic Burst. It'd be an interesting Rivalry, matter of circumstance aside. Ian adjusted his cloak, swung his hair back over his shoulders, and set off.