Misfit Studios

Kerr wordlessly gestures to the rating, not even bothering to check the man's face. There's no need to focus on someone until you see them in battle and know who they truly are. "The cell first, then melee training."

Roland gingerly takes the datapad from the rating, and starts to head to his cell. He looks at the datapad, and calls back over his shoulder "This pad includes the areas we have access to on this ship?, our agendas for briefings and briefing notes?"

"Ah, brother!" Kerr smiles widely and dips his head in greeting. "You have the same thought as me then? Will you cross blades with me? I'd be honoured to test my skill against yours."

Kerr selects one of the larger, practice swords for his own weapon, swinging it in the air a few times to tests its weight and balance. Content with his choice he entered the arena and bowed his head. "Ready to begin, brother."

What's the best way to handle combat?

I'm ready as well

With a bow, Fuegus entered his guard, watching the Storm Warden move. He strikes to the left, looking to bring Kerr's guard up before suddenly chaning his target and striking to the right. Feint, then Standard attack.

After entering the cage, Fuegus is first to react (he won initiative), feinting to the left with his staff (feint attempt) but Kerr is not deceived (Fuegus fails his WS, Kerr succeeds.) Despite this, Fuegus follows up with a strike with his staff (standard attack).

How does Kerr respond?

Kerr brings his sword up in a defensive position, flicking out a blow aimed for Fuegus' shoulder.

Standard attack

Fuegus' staff strike misses to the right, allowing Kerr an opportunity to swing at the librarian's midsection with his practice sword, but it hits the staff (Kerr's responding attack missed)

Fuegus?

Kerr drops to more of a crouch, raising his staff to try and block the oncoming impact.

Attempting parry.

Kerr grins as sword and staff strike off one another, his blood flowing. Practice or not, this is still a worthy test and his respect for Fuegis is growing. "No strieks for either of us yet, excellent!"

As he flicks the staff away, he raises from his crouch to bring the sword around in a tight arc, Fuegis' lower side being the target.

Aim, standard attack.

As Nero steps into the armoury, Procel, who was inspecting the weapon vaults, carefully verifying the integrity of the machine spirit within their locking mechanism, and points at the rows of small vaults.

"It is almost sad that such proud wargear should be stored hidden away, isolated from it's brethren. May the Omissiah bless them, that they may find purity and purpose within their confinement." he states before turning to face Nero.