Thom - Vs. Aamon

[07:43:08] Another year, more training.

Blue streaks of lightning would be left behind by Thom as the youth moved around Nostvale, a mixture of lightning's teleportation and turning into it to move faster across the land. The black haired youth would hum a little bit to themselves, glancing around for not a lot in particular. But this would quickly change when they noticed something, a sash. Slowing down a little bit the boy would stop on the road.

It was sash number 4.. But the man it belonged to did not look bald.. Strange. Reguardless, the youth would take a few steps off the road and onto the grassy area, offering a bit of a wave towards the man.

"Hihi! I wanna challenge you for your sash!"
(Thom)
[07:52:32] With the departure of the two deflated companions, the Knights gaze is instead allowed to stray to Odin. There is visible flicker of disappointment and warning dejection. Having to trouble himself with the curiosities of insignificant beings was a... chore.

Regardless, his tone is calm; cold and dangerously forewarning, but no less fair.

"I do not know, little one. Loiter about the Keep. They will show up eventually. In the meantime, you will find application forms about. I suggest you fill one of those in beforehand."

Thom's approach is marginally more interesting. The boy did not look much, but bravery was endearing; to challenge the foundations of the Number Four Duo... that took some nerve.

He turns fully, if only to grant him the degree of attention such a bold action deserves.

"Hello. I do not recommend it. Far stronger warriors than you have failed. Do you think you are able to take it?"

(Aamon)
[07:57:39] Thom's face turned into a grin, offering the man who looked at him merely a shrug when questioned why he thought he would win. The boy streached a bit, releasing whatever bit of stress he might have before looking back at the man.

"I don't know, won't know, unless I try right? That Ken guy said that I couldn't get two sashes but." Thom would extend both his arms out, showing sashes 49 and 44 on each arm, parellel to one another. "Here I am with two. So if I try something and lose then its still worth trying."

"Besides.. I never get to fight because I'm afraid I might hurt other children. My magic is painful.. But you're an adult! And Adults are a lot stronger then children so I won't be able to hurt you and stuff." Thom nodded, it all making sense in his mind.

"So do you mind if I try to beat you at least?"
(Thom)
[07:59:21] Aamon: I will not refuse bravery and ambition.
[07:59:21] Aamon: Come, let us head towards the Prairie..
[08:00:12] Thom: Awesome!
[08:04:28] The Prairie scorch is as unforgiving as it often was. With little shade beneath which one might recluse, the steady beat of blistering sunlight is merciless, twisting pits once muddy slosh from the deluge of monsoon season into dry, torrid, decadent craters.

Years of training in this harsh conditions had conditioned the Neries. It barely bothers him any more. The Great Battle upon the dunes of Sarab had been far worse.

The Number Four sash is summarily removed from his bicep and looped carefully around the hilt of his Onyx Greatsword. The great creation is brandished in bloody warning towards the challenger.

"As you wish. Do not expect mercy."

But when silvery tendrils streak in defence instead of the pungent, lilac reaping of her Gaze, mercy has already been granted.

With or without, the boy would find himself truly challenged in single combat against the Neries Knight.
(Aamon)
[08:05:20] The prarie. A bit of a walk from Nostvale's gates, but not altogether not so far from its safety. It was a good area for what was about to go down, Thom's first fight against an adult that wasn't a member of his family. There was a feeling in the boy's gut now, a mixture of both fear and.. Exictment. He had no idea if he would win or if he would lose this coming battle, but reguardless of the outcome it felt like it would be fun.

The boy would reach into his pocket, pulling out a pair of goggles and placing them over his eyes before focusing. Thom imagined the door he had in a previous training session, his hand reaching out to it and opening the handle.. A Jolted eletrical hand reaching inside and attempting to pull out what they desired before once again the grey eyes snapped open.

A red aura of sparks began to surround the youth, and yet off of his back there may have been a small array of blue sparks, perpendicular to that of the read hovering slightly overhead. Nothing truely substantial as of yet but still interesting perhaps.

"I'm going to give this battle my best sir! Thanks for accepting!"
(Thom)
[08:07:02] {combat} Thom has been defeated by Aamon! They're unable to continue fighting.
[08:11:18] In typical fashion, the battlefield illuminates through radiance of Exorcism. It is a great, gleaming wash upon torrid soils; rejuvenating, invigorating, and summarily granting some manner of life to this battered landscape.

For Thom, it is agonising. The Krausite energies are careful to creep, striking viciously upon the opposing Occultist. It is a forceful cleansing, in truth - a boon of energy that seeks to rip the very Occultic influence from his essence in a painful, searing ordeal.

Gravity twists and crushes, Metaphysical command working to batter and bloody the brave little boy. Basked in brilliant, electrical radiance, the speed at which he traverses the battlefield, battering it with great prongs of lightning and scorching waves of flame is impressive.

It proves to be a feeble endeavour.

A final strike across the forehead from the flat of his blade sends Thom hurtling. The ruby-sash with is embroidery flutters eagerly upon the hilt of his blade. Taunting.

"Come, boy. You were so brave and eager! Surely that is not all you have to offer?"
(Aamon)
[08:16:25] White crashed against black as exorcism hit against occultism, the former ended up defeating the latter. But unfortuantely, despite flames, darkness, and light covering the field Thom was unable to see it, the majority of the time his vision hidden underneath a vale of darkness, making even the easiest tasks of blocking more difficult then he had ever felt before. Exocrism felt like it was coroding his skin, but Thom attempted to ignore it and would do so only for a matter of minutes.

There was light everywhere and it made planning immensely difficult as well. Finally the boy was brought to his knees, blood covering a bit of his black clothing as he took deep breaths, recoiling from the strike of the flat of the blade. The little orb of blue lighting would cackling and spark, looking a bit as if it were laughing before Thom shook his head and would once again haul himself to his feet.

"Ow.. Don't worry I'm not done yet.." Thom would sya, glancing up at the blade hilt and the man holding it. "I'll try to be stronger.. be faster.."

The cackling of the blue orb though certainly didn't seem to think so.
(Thom)
[08:18:08] {combat} Thom has been defeated by Aamon! They're unable to continue fighting.
[08:24:57] The endless barrage of flame and lighting veers beyond the threshold of mere irritation. It becomes true pain, scorching across flesh and armour in great, stinging waves. And Thom is relentless in this assault, shimmering across the battlefield endless in blinding flashes of vermillion and azure.

It is a terrible assault thwarted by Illusionary trickery and Gravitational command, and from the Ether does raw, untamed energy whistle, its potent presence wrapping about Thom in a terribly encumbering mass.

A few moments long leave the lad vulnerable.

A slash across the left arm, and a bloody, gory strike across the right, and a final, uplifting boon of Gravity quite literally uplifts and hurls his little body through the earth to mercilessly crash upon dried, terrible soil.

The Neries did not care for his injuries nor his well-being. Fights like this for the younger generations were a matter of growth. To survive was to grow. To fail was to grow. To strive for future success was to grow.

And if death were to come, then better now than later.

"Train harder, boy, and perhaps one day you will come close to taking this Sash from me. Until then, be gone, and tell any of your friends who should seek to do the same not to bother."The endless barrage of flame and lighting veers beyond the threshold of mere irritation. It becomes true pain, scorching across flesh and armour in great, stinging waves. And Thom is relentless in this assault, shimmering across the battlefield endless in blinding flashes of vermillion and azure.

It is a terrible assault thwarted by Illusionary trickery and Gravitational command, and from the Ether does raw, untamed energy whistle, its potent presence wrapping about Thom in a terribly encumbering mass.

A few moments long leave the lad vulnerable.

A slash across the left arm, and a bloody, gory strike across the right, and a final, uplifting boon of Gravity quite literally uplifts and hurls his little body through the earth to mercilessly crash upon dried, terrible soil.

The Neries did not care for his injuries nor his well-being. Fights like this for the younger generations were a matter of growth. To survive was to grow. To fail was to grow. To strive for future success was to grow.

And if death were to come, then better now than later.

"Train harder, boy, and perhaps one day you will come close to taking this Sash from me. Until then, be gone, and tell any of your friends who should seek to do the same not to bother.

It will be a waste of their time and mine."
(Aamon)
[08:30:04] "Ugh..."

Thom would blink a few times, trying to see where he was, but seeing only darkness.. Was it another spelll or.. Nope, he was just face down in the dirt. The bronze skinned boy would roll over, onto his back glancing over his blood though thankfully none of it being fatal in nature. The grey eyes blink, but everything looks as if it were going in and out of focus, this effect being most noticed when he finally managed to see where the other was, best indicated when he started speak.

"I'll keep training then.." Thom agreed, nodding as he grunted a bit in pain. There was quite a bit of blood everywhere wasn't there? The little blue orb would once again cackle, laughing at Thom but the eleven year old swatted it away, making it fade back through to the world in which it had came from.

"Hopefully.. I'll be able to at least give some sort of good fight when I'm stronger.. I don't think I did anything to you.." Thom mumbled, unable to even see wounds that he inflicted upon the armor of Aamon due to his currently hazy eye sight.

"I think.. I need to rest here a bit.."
(Thom)