After a humulating defeat right here in the arena... he decided to gain some training from another... looking around, he noticed no audience or peolple in the arena at that time.

"*sigh* I need private training. I am a warrior, and disgraced myself. If that's not a sign of how weak I am... maybe I need to change my profession or something..."

Gozan walks within the arena, hoping, waiting for someone... anyone... to help train him... but not skills, feats or anything... just actions...

A voice could be heard in a muffle walking in from deep in the entrance hallway. It was inaudible at first, just a noise, then it could be determined to be talking. As it drew closer, the final part of the conversation could be heard.

"... you stupid bird, let's go. You are lucky you were allowed in here, the guard did not seem happy with the idea at all. Look noble for one time in your life; just because you still have a spear wound does not mean you cannot look rideable."

The last few words were spoken as a strange pair walked into the arena. The man, covered in wilderness travel attire, appeared to be around thirty. He held a distinct look of maturity on his face without showing the tell-tale sign of deep wrinkles. Beside him stood a large, golden bird. A chocobo, but Jarreth had met no one who knew them by that name. The best he could get was "large chicken" out of most, and he could never agree with them more.

"Now look, you stay here while I try to train a little. With how much trouble you cause I would not be surprised if I had to use this thing within the week," Jarreth stated as he put Juine against the far wall near the entry way. Looking around, Jarreth spotted a lone figure standing in the arena. In a friendly tone, he called out, "Excuse me, are you looking to train? Or, if not, do you happen to know which cell holds the practice dummies?"

Gozan says... "Yes, I am here to train. for I lack any real definite skill at all.

If you must know my name, it's Gozan, but I ask your name before we start, please? Also, I am looking for adventurers. If you are good long arm, heavy blade, or thereabouts, I could offer an adventure or 2... but don't take these travels lightly."

Gozan takes battle postition, and headies his sword for practice...

"Thanks."

"A beginner, then. That will work out fine; I have not been able to hold a true blade in a very long time, and I can still feel the rust when I use this one that I managed to procure," he justified, mainly to himself, as a distinct cling marked the removal of Jarreth's longsword from its scabbard. "I am Jarreth. While I cannot say much about the adventures that you offer, you are welcome for the spar since I am in need as well."

Jarreth, still standing back, took a few swipes at the air, both diagonal toward the ground. Stretching his arm in the process, he warmed up his body for the impending match. His neck let out a loud crack as he rotated his head back and forth, followed by a groan. He had a kink for almost a day that had just been relieved. Finished in moments, he closed the distance between himself and Gozan, wielding his longsword and tipping the blade outward so that the flat edges of the two weapons bumped together.

"I will allow you the first swing since you are new and I am just out of practice. We'll see how this is going to work after a few minutes."

"Very well. Good luck."

Holding the blade with fine balance, gozan begins with a quick sting on the elbow, first acting like he was about to sling the neck, then immediately withdrawling and stinging...

Gozan waited in anticipation of the next move, thinking he would begin with a defensive move...

Jarreth was surprised as he brought his sword up to block the first slash and barely managed to place his blade across his body to deflect the second stab. That type of crippling attack was very rare in sparring, especially with sharpened weapons. He was more than angry with this strange man named Gozan, who showed potentially dirty fighting abilities. He was in no mood to simply let this slide since it would most likely reoccure in the future, and that could be very dangerous. Should the pattern continue, the training might turn into a true battle, one that only ended when a combatant was left incapacitated or worse.

Using the instant gained by knocking the stab off to one side, Jarreth slid his blade up to point at Gozan's neck, stating, "I suggest you be careful with how you handle yourself with a true blade, Gozan. Accidents are abound when you tempt fate with carelessness."

Jarreth stepped backward and rapped his blade against Gozan's extended sword, not intentionally trying to disarm it, but it would slip and fall to the dirt if there was not a strong grip on the hilt. He took his stance again, now feeling a little better about the feel of the weapon in his grasp, and ordered, "Again."

"It's a move I discovered... if I had bluff... you would be in for a serious attack. It's the only major technique I know, though. Maybe I should train YOU in the move as payment. But... it's distinctly average so far... unless you know it."

Gozan decides to swipe with a standard blow to the left...

Jarreth swung his blade in opposite to the strike and pushed his body weight forward at the point of impact, causing the assaulting sword to be bounced back. Following the fluidity of the strike, he pushed his hilt hand forward while tilting his wrist back, causing the blunt end of the weapon to fly almost unavoidably toward Gozan's chest. Whether the attack met his opponent's flesh to leave a bruise or was avoided, he would have a strong point when stating that he was not interested in learning the supposed technique. Jarreth still felt it was dirty, at least in sparring, and it was not something that required excess practice should it be necessary to learn. In the end, it was simply a process of making a horizontal stroke and following with a quick jab. That was the essence of swordfighting in certain situations.

Gozan was thankful for the leather armor he had... while the sword almost hit him... it would only have been a mediocre blow...

Gozan quickly retrieved his sword, then tried a simple trick this time. He tried to lock the opponents sword into a bind with his own sword, then tried to elbow him.

All the while, he considered what should be his next move...

The sword that had been used to try and strike a blunt blow to Gozan's chest made a vibrating clash as the tip of the blade slid against the hilt of the second weapon. Jarreth recognized in afterthought that it had been an attempt at locking the weapon, which was nearly impossible given the angles of the attack. Jarreth pushed against Gozan as a final motion to his strike, clearing just far enough away to only feel contact with the flung elbow instead of taking feeling the pain of a solid hit. Jarreth flicked his wrist as he stepped backward to clear some distance, trying to draw the sharp edge of his sword against the exposed skin of Gozan's wrist during the clearing.

"I think we need to take this up a notch." Gozan said, and whistled for his horse... he quickly tried to counter the attack, but missed, and took a blow to his hand... while painful, he could withstand it.

Then he mounted it, and said... "Now the battle really begins..." and tried to execute a riding charge at his opponent (not easy to dodge knowing riding AND mounted combat... but I suspect you have just the skills...)

Jarreth frowned as a horse appeared as if from nowhere and acted as a mount for the dishonorable opponent. In the recesses of Jarreth's mind, he could almost pinpoint each motion that Gozan would have to go through to finish the charge. While it was entirely innappropriate to practice mounted combat without permission from both parties, the traveller could defend himself for the moment necessary without sustaining injury. He watched as Gozan picked up his sword into the air; it was fairly clumbsy to look at, but he had expressed his ineptitude at swordplay earlier. The horse looked untrained as well, judging from it's high head. It almost appeared like it was going to buck Gozan to the dirt with its feet barely touching the ground. Standing his ground, Jarreth sheathed his longsword and watched the oncoming steed, his face staring down into the large eyes of the horse. The horse was definately untrained.

With a final word of an unheard chant beneath the trampling noise of the charing horse, Jarreth opened his palm quickly before him, causing a strong light spell to appear. The horse, startled, stopped out of inexperience and neighed loudly while bucking backward. Jarreth shook his head and inwardly pitied the horse who had to follow the commands of such a man. "I am sorry, but I cannot stand to witness another moment of this dishonorable conduct. The arena officials will be informed of your actions."

Turning his back on the stopped opponent, he rested his palm, the light now dispersed, on the hilt of his sword. Clicking with his tongue, Juine was called and was soon escourted out into the darkness of the entryway. In the distance, Jarreth's voice could be heard shouting, "Guards!"

gozan cursed himself for even thinking it... and decided to disgrace himself for being an idiot... thinking about the situation, he did the worst thing possible... he fled... hoping to die... heading towards the swamp to hang himself...

Quickly he sped out of the arena... thinking only of death to himself... and also thinking... "I will never learn... I will never learn..."

He accidentially dropped a letter indicating a possible new prestigue class: One that of the knight...

Demus had been watching the entire ordeal...it had made him laugh...he was an ex-arena fighter ...only for the time being however...and the whole situation was amusing to him...why spare when you can let fresh blood spill and enjoy it so much more... he thought to himself as he walked to the area where the note had fallen...and after reading it he then destroyed it andspoke out loud whilst laughing..."what an imbisil...who does he think he is? and what must he be smoking in his times away from this debauchery he calls combat...perhaps he was dropped on his head as a child, or..perhaps he was raised by his mother who was also his sister...who knows..." Demus then spoke louder...knowing he might not be quite allowed to fight in the arena for a purse, he didnt care, he just wanted to battle a foolish human or two, they were unimaginably stupid in his eyes at times..." enough of this foolishness! who will come from the arena stands and draw a weapon upon me ? i beg of thee, and i offer all my worldy possesions, including this to he who can kill me" Demus dropped a bag of gold on the dusty arena floor, and slid it behind himself with his foot " let the first fool to take my offer be put to shame by his skill in combat, and DIE by mine!"

While Demus was yelling for a challenge, supernoob had already pulled out his Katana. Demus was the one who had told the brute who killed his brother wat to do. In supernoob's eyes, Demus was the guilty one. He stood up and sprinted down the aisle uttering his queer battle-cry. "I will kill you for having my brother, Grenadeer, destroyed!!!!!!!!." Within seconds supernoob was upon him and with great agility, dodging most attacks. Supernoob had held his Katana up to Demus's throat. he said, "This is for my brother....." But Demus still had some dirty tricks up his sleeve. He whipped out a powerful kick to the shin. Yet, supernoob was stronger than he looked. he got up and said, "May this be a battle to the end"............

Demus smilled at the man before him."And waht might you be speaking of? I have killed so many, yet that name does not seem familiar, although, im sure the killing was done by none other than myself, i will not take credit for it.I will however take credit for your own demise!" Demus pushed the blade of the foolish mans blade aside with his bare hand, laughing as it barely even scraped at his skin, and drew his demon blade, with which he struck the mans sword out of his hands and to the arena floor with, now smilling at his soon to be victim, Demus stood awaiting the mans reaction, almost laughing at the mans odd story.