With a bow to his opponent, the gong sounded, and that was the start of the match. Ethstar straightened from his bowing position and danced backwards a few steps, putting a couple of feet between him and the man across from him. His opponent was a young human of about twenty years of age, holding fast to a quarterstaff with metal tips. His hands were positioned at each hand directly under the start of the metal plating, giving him a good defensive stance. He was unshirted and sweating, already having gone through a few matches of his own.
Ethstar was unshirted and sweating as well, his muscles glistening in the morning sun, his brow laden with drops of water. The wings he had been cursed with were unseeable, altered into obscurity by magical means. His brow was furrowed intensly, his blue hues holding that same intense emotion to them as well. They were actually quite interesting eyes, the pupils dilated to a mere pinprick, the blue color barely seeable, as it had thinned to an extremely small ring. Right now, those eyes were focused on the opponent, judging him up, waiting for him to take the first move. As one would watch, they would notice a slight sway to Ethstar's movements, like a dancer ready to take the first step, or go into the first beautiful spin.
His weapons were armblades, two of them held, one in each hand. At the moment, his arms were held casually at his sides, long side of the armblades going up his arm and ending at about his elbow, and the short ends extending a few inches beyond his tightly clenched fist. One enchanted one, and one that was not.
In a blur, the match REALLY began. The opponent made his first movements, rising the quarterstaff high above his head in a horizontal position, leaping forward, and bringing it down in a snapping motion at Ethstar's skull. With his hands at each end, this would add power and grip, but there was one factor that might ruin the blow. Strikes with a blunt weapon that were aimed at the skull, they were prone to slipping, sliding down the rounded shape of most heads instead of landing a solid blow. Rounded blunt weapons were even more prone to this, but that factor really wasn't something to worry about now. The quarterstaff blow would never land anyway.
As the opponent came leaping forward, Ethstar's arms would suddenly snap up, bending at the elbow and standing vertically side-by-side to catch the blow in the armblades up above the head. The center of the wooden staff became brutally lodged within the steel of the blades, but that was not the worst part. At about the same time the wood had connected with steel, Ethstar's boot would snap up, firmly lodging itself in the unguarded groin of the opponent. With a cry of pain, the man would topple to the ground, his fingers automatically releasing the wooden shaft and going down to clutch at the point that had been kicked. The instructor that was there looked on with some puzzlement, the kick shouldn't have done that much damage. But one thing that most did not know what that Ethstar had a lot more strength then the normal human. Alot more strength then should be humanly possible.
Mostly because he wasn't human at all.
Ethstar stepped back from his won match, not even breathing heavily. One thing that would be noticed however was he had to reposition his grip on the hilts of his blades, putting his hands a little farther down the handles. His grip had slipped with that block, and the backs of the steel blades had been droven into his arms. Two neat cuts on the side of each arm would attest to this, showing onlookers that this particular Fallen Angel still had quite a while to go before mastering these particular weapons. A slight grimace would line the face of the tainted Celestial, his intimidating eyes looking down on the blades in disguist. He would have to get the backs dulled, or get better. Preferably both.