The perabels slowly stopped sparring as more and more of them noticed him. He looked around and counted 30 perabels in all, scattered about the beach in pairs and sparring with practice swords. As Virion arrived at the beach, only one pair was left locked in combat. He recognized the rippling build, short spiky brown hair, and round face of Alvan, the perabel who would work at the ration store he would visit. Alvan was darting about, parrying the blows of, and swinging viciously at another perabel. His opponent was tall, the same height as Virion, and had long brown hair that extended until the base of his neck. He was rather slender with much less of a muscular build than Alvan, but his limbs were flexible, and he moved well.
Virion watched as Alvan swung hard at the tall perabel, who jumped back in surprise. Alvan's sword swept the air where he had just been and seemingly flew too far, his arm overextending as he missed his target. His opponent took the initiative to jab hard at him. Alvan moved quickly to the side but the practice sword managed to catch his freely swinging left arm. Alvan whipped his sword around and batted away the tall perabel's sword before he could swing it into Alvan's chest. His opponent swept at Alvan's legs, who quickly stepped backward and parried the blow before it made contact. He ducked under a punch thrown by his opponent and suddenly charged forward, crashing into his opponent with his shoulder. The tall perabel was sent flying backward with incredible force and landed hard on the sand. Alvan rushed over and placed the tip of his sword at the perabel's neck, ending the bout.
The tall perabel began to laugh as he accepted the hand that Alvan held out. Alvan hoisted him to his feet and patted him on the back.
'You needa react better, Keltan! Or ya'll never beat me!'
The tall perabel stood and brushed the sand off himself, chuckling quietly.
'With real weapons, the battle might have gone very differently.', said Virion, walking up to Alvan and the tall perabel, Keltan. Alvan looked at him in surprise and guffawed, slapping him on the shoulder.
'Mr. Salor! Great of you ta come. This here's my brother, Keltan.'
'Keltan Thoma', the perabel said, holding a hand out to Virion. He shook it firmly.
'You got your brother's left wrist pretty good back there. In a real fight the wound might have made him panic', said Virion, looking the perabel in his brown eyes.
Keltan looked over at his brother as he let go of Virion's hand and laughed uncomfortably. He brought a hand up to his head and looked back at Virion.
'Nah my brother's not one ta panic in a fight.'
Alvan laughed loudly then turned and began to wave at the many perabels scattered about the beach, who were staring curiously at the trio.
'Oi you lot! Get over here! Mr. Salor's here ta show us the ropes.'
Virion looked at Alvan in confusion as all the perabels ran over and began to group up in front of them, some excitedly muttering among themselves.
'No exchange of pleasantries, huh? Straight to business?', asked Virion as a smile slowly spread across his face. Keltan tossed a practice sword at Virion who caught it cleanly by the hilt. He removed his cloak with his left arm as he checked the balance of the practice sword with his right. A mischievous smile had appeared on Alvan's face as he gestured at the perabels, who now surrounded them in a loose circle, to move back and give them some space. Keltan stepped forward and took Virion's cloak from him. Virion murmured his thanks and turned his attention to Alvan, who had entered a fighting stance. The practice sword felt slightly heavy in his hand, despite being shorter and thinner than the zestril sword that rested in the scabbard at his waist. He entered a fighting stance of his own and faced Alvan as the perabels around them backed up. An ocean breeze picked up and ran through Virion's hair from behind him, clearing his mind and tightening his focus as Alvan charged at him suddenly, his sword raised...
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