Closed [ The Bronze Woods ] The Greater Good (Kos)

[Sieghart Valorian]

"Hurt me, Hurt me now, Hurt me!!!!" He exclaims at the top of his lungs, before he'd made a sacrifice that would benefit him whilst hurting him. He raised his opposing forearm which was free of a weapon for now. Allowing the shaft of the opponents weapon to impact his forearm. Yet, the opponent was still robbed of eyesight, and failed to realize something. The purpose of Sieghart holding his longsword in a reverse grip was simple. Once a strike with his pommel landed, there was no avoiding the length of his blade. Being that he heard the opponents nose cracking, the sound was oh so sweet. He knew that he was the victor, and that the opponents effort was in vein. The remaining length of the weapon, starting with the sword catcher guard, slammed into the opponents visage, on the right side of his nose. Now that the opponent slightly off balanced himself, Sieghart pushes forward in his motions. Forcing the opponent into the ground, and the length of his blade begins to come in contact with the side of the opponents face. Slicing the opponents cheek a slight as he fell to the ground. Sieghart lands on top of Kos, slamming his knee into the gut of the opponent. With his hand still upon the pommel of his longsword. Yet his left hand although impacted by the shaft of his opponents weapon it was fine. Due to the fact that his teethed gauntlets would absorb majority of the force. A fist was brought down into the opponents visage, directly atop his nose. Before stopping just short of striking him, and ending the battle. Yet, Sieghart knew that strike would be fatal, incredibly fatal and would likely result in the opponents death.

Therefore he simply stopped, and asked the opponent a question. Almost in a sarcastic manner; " Do you yield ? " Spoke Sieghart as he continued to breathe heavily; Feeling the sting and burn of his muscles having his endurance pushed to it's limit. The tip of the blade slams into the ground, mere inches away from the opponents facial structure. A smile still upon Siegharts lips, and his cranium still bled, the blood dripped down now along the side of his visage. Practically covering his right eye. That rock surely was gnarly and struck him rather hard, although he shrugged it off. The blood began to drip atop the opponents forehead.

[Clemens Kos]

Kos felt like a tool. He was fully outwitted and outplayed before the fight even began. It didn't take long for him to release the grip of his weapon, as he lost his balance, and felt the blade against his cheek. It wasn't much, but he knew this spar was lost. Only adding insult to injury when he felt the man's knee in his own gut. His whole body tried to pull itself together to lower the pain, but instead of that the man got himself ontop of him, and simply blocking all movements from ever happening. His one eye was closed, the other one hidden under the amount of hair. He tried to control his breathing, drawing breath even though it was extremely painful to do so. He simply lied there, his weapon out of grasp. The man could see his dagger on Kos' waist, due to the coat being moved in the fall, but he showed no intentions of going to grab it. After all, he was able to stand defeat. Even though it stinged. Specially this fight. However, he learned something valuable even though he was humiliated once again. Charging at someone without a plan will end the fight before it began. So he released the breath he was holding, and finally his eyes open. Looking up at the man above him. Even though wearing a mask, one couldn't find any emotion underneath. His lips were pressed in a thin line, and he felt his nose aching ever so slightly. The sight was interesting, however. The man was bleeding from his forhead, where his rock connected. The blood that was slowly dripping down onto his own self. The only hit he landed was with something he didn't even train to use. If not else, that was a disapointment. All his training, his preparations, and his theorycrafting seemed to bring nothing but failure every time he was put on the spotlight. He really needed to either step up his game or simply stop trying. If this was a real fight, he'd either be dead or in chains, and it even did last for but a fraction of the time. The only thing raging in Kos' body was his heart, beating unstopably against the weight that Sieghart provided. "I yield." He said after the moment of silence passed, knowing full well he couldn't do anything anymore. What turned from trying to get a man to be quiet, became the same man making a fool out of himself. This is what he gets for trying to get involved with people outside of what's needed. In hindsight, it was probably better for him to never do something like this again. The maniacial laughter was still infront of Clemens' eyes. Yet from his point of view, the laughing was directed at him. Tauting him with those gibberish words of actually dealing some damage to him. "You win. Get off me so I can walk off. You keep doing whatever you did. I don't want to have any further problems if anyone else heard your yelling." That was probably something Kos feared more than anything. And from how things went here, he wasn't exactly keen at helping this man, either. His plan was to check back on his snare, and get to the city.

[Sieghart Valorian]

Sieghart finally snaps out of it, and when he sees what he has done his eyes widen like craters. He had no clue what he'd been doing, and he never understood why he'd even gotten like this in the first place. He absolutely hated it when this happens. The truth is that ever since Arialys went missing he had no clue what to do with himself. Even if it was a challenge, even if it was a battle he shouldn't have gone to such lengths to win the battle. This wasn't like him at all. Now he spoke to the man who was below him, and he was much less worried about himself bleeding. Now several tears fell from his optic devices, as he'd felt horrid about what he'd done.

His fear was that he might've seriously injured this man. Therefore he immediately gets up off of the strange opponent. Before he grasps hold of one of the opponents hand, and uplifts him from the ground. Throwing his opposing hand about the mans waist, and his arm over Siegharts shoulder. Supporting him in his walking, due to the fact that an opponent that had just been in battle shouldn't do too much moving about. Especially during the winter, and being that it was this cold he couldn't simply leave him here. Now he proceeds to speak to the opponent.

"I'm so, sorry I very well do apologize it's just that I've gone absolutely mad.. My sister has gone missing, and I've searched everywhere I could think to search for her.. It's driving me insane not to have her at my side. It saddens me each and every day that I haven't seen her... I apologize dearly, Let me take you to the city and buy you medicine to help you heal.. I didn't mean to do that to you.. It's just... Insane when that happens, and I have no clue what I've done by the time that it is over.. I only wish that someone would help me through my troubles.. You sir, from what I remember have been the best battler that I've seen with my own two eyes.. The truth is, that no trained man will ever typically defeat a crazed one. Before you ask why, let me tell you.. A trained man is used to battling against other trained men, or simple fighters who taught themselves.. Yet, the biggest danger to a trained man is someone who is crazed.. Because you can never predict exactly what will happen in any case what so ever. I really do apologize.. Come on, grab your weapon and lets go. May Priskil forgive me, for I have done wrong."

Hopefully things went well from this point on, all he wanted to do was duel and make a bond with a person through battle, although at times that didn't work. Just like in this case ; Where an opponent gets hurt and is likely to see Sieghart as much more of a danger then a friend.

[Clemens Kos]

Whatever happened above him, happened fast. Too fast for Kos to actually pay it much detail. Confused as he was, the laughing man turned into a crying one, and whilst he still towered above him it was only a question of time before he felt the dropplets on his own face. Fitting, how he already felt his blood just a second before. But the question at hand was, what happened to this person? He seemed to have enjoyed himself, even if he acted somehow strange. Yet the tears he witnessed hurt more than the laughing from before. Kos really was a horrible fighter, if a lunatic like this with so self control could best him. The defeat seemingly stinging that much more because of it. His brow furrowed, as he watched the man roll off him. What the masked man did, was refusing his help just there where he stood. As he felt his oponnent's hands closing in, he simply pushed him away, woobly standing ground on his own terms. His green eyes flashed the man a quite unfriendly look, as his right hand wrapped around the mask, tighening his grasp and tugging on it. The mask, once too much pressure was added, gave away and the leather was removed, staying in the man's right hand. His back arched lightly, as blood began to drop from the mask. The sword pommel seemingly doing what it did, and from that moment on the mask was being drenched in blood. His face looked way worse than it actually was, however. Both of his nostrils and the tip of his nose were filled with blood, which was then smeared all over his mouth and chin due to his head motions. His nose, which was already quite deformed and croaked from his previous encounters looked like the picture definition of a grotesque sight. It was comically distorted. The man reached into his pocket with his left hand, afterwords, rummaging through until his hand wrapped itself around a piece of linen, which he brought to his face and pressed against his nose, going to soak up some of the blood. All the time he was doing so, however, his glance didn't leave the man infront of him. He did distance himself away a step, simply because he didn't know just how votilate this man was. He listened to his little explanation without showing much of any emotion. After all, he had a mask on him before, and now he had a linen cloth over his face. Fact was, however, that Kos got quite angry listening to him, with his right hand tighening his grip around his mask out of pure frustration. Not only was he downed, now he was being lectured on how useless he'd be anyways, because of no how mad people can be. Clemens took a deep breath through his nose, and if one ignores the small bit of blood he drained that way, his breathing cannal was undamaged, luckily. The little blood he did breath in, however, he forced into his mouth with a grunt, pushing air through his nose, and after all that was done, the man spit to the side. He didn't care about being cultural around someone like Sieghart. At least, not any more. His salvia was bound with blood, and much like his previous dropplets colored the thin sheet of snow the winter provided on this day. He finally spoke out, this time less muffed as he removed the cloth from his lips to speak. "My own fault for being stupid enough getting close to you. Should of left you to those bandits you seemed to be calling." Kos' voice did not had the friendliest of tones right about now, either. Shaking his head to get his thoughts in place, he tried to calm down. "I can move on my own, thank you." He then added as the man spoke about getting him to the city. Truth be told, he was in no way ready to be in grab range of the man, because Kos might of simply end it all while drawing his dagger on the seemingly quite regretful blonde. "So, what. Tell me, you usually yell around in the woods because of sister? She, hmm, she'll fight you too if you see her?" He asked, not really minding the bluntness of his words. Part of him knew that he wouldn't be getting a correct answer, anyways. If one was as mad as he claimed to be, his actions would make zero to no sense. But Kos needed to vent. He was never known to be great at socializing, and especially not while agitated.

[Sieghart Valorian]

Perhaps he was simply being driven mad. He knew not of what to say to the other male who was left bloody because of what he'd done. He'd felt guilty; incredibly guilty and yet simultaneously he knew he shouldn't. Due to the fact that it was evident; The opponent was such a bone-head. Therefore he wouldn't even bother speaking in response to the man. He simply turned about and begun to walk away at a rather brisk pace. Caring not rather or not the opponent even froze to death out in the cold; Alone. He wouldn't even bother to so much as spit in the direction of the strange man.

Now he proceeds to walk away, and practically disappear from sight. Arialys was missed dearly; She wouldn't be forgotten. He practically wished to have drowned in shame and upset. To have never even bothered coming here in the first place. The winter is harsh, and indeed he would have to spend quite some time in order to walk back. Although that didn't very well matter to him very much; He was already prepared. Bringing the last of his rations with him for the long trip back to the mithryn outpost. Where he usually encountered nothing but a bunch of farmers. Although that was a boringly simplistic lifestyle it is quite fitting of Holland himself. As per usual, he is left without a friend and with a man who dislikes him. Nothing in this world seems to change; Regardless of how much trial and error he undergoes.