TRAINING: Trull vs. Faust

"Brother." Trull smiled inside his helmet and bowed to his friend, Faust Skirata. The two men stood roughly twenty paces apart. They'd agreed to a bout of friendly combat, as an act of worship to Kad.

Granted, 'friendly' met something much different for these men than it did for most others. They both were clad in their full battle gear, carrying their deadly weapons - minus blasters. Trull wore his full armor, his shield, his spear, his dirk, and his short sword. As he straightened, he clashed his spear haft against his shield twice, and then advanced at a quick jog, shield lifted to guard his chest and spear held ready for stabbing.

Trull fought as the vode lived - unadorned, without frill or fuss. He had never found need for acrobatics or flourishes. 

When he was almost in range of Faust, however, he pushed off into a quick leap and thrust his spear at his brother's face, emulating a hero punch.  With his shield pulled in close to his side, his guard was solid, and his attack quick - but not unpredictable.

Faust's beskad rang against his spear haft as Trull's blow was deflected, an instant after his feet touched back down. His spear was knocked to Trull's left, across his body, and Trull pulled his shield in tight against his side, letting his weapon move freely. At the same time, the rear end of his spear haft mirrored the front half's motion, catching Faust's second swing and knocking it aside in turn. If Faust was careless enough or Trull was quick enough, the dual-wielding priest stood a chance to be clipped across his jaw by the spear-butt. Trull spun with the momentum from Faust's initial deflection, turning to his left and rounding on Faust as he backed away.

Trull pressed the attack, keeping his shield lifted and stabbing twice with his spear. The first stab came low, aimed at Faust's bladder, as Trull crouched slightly and lifted his shield to act as a sort of roof over his head. He reset immediately, however, drawing back his spear and re-orienting his shield as he took another step forward and stabbed at Faust's mid section. This second stab had more range than expected: Trull loosened his grip momentarily, letting the spear slide forward with the thrust's momentum. It was deceptive maneuver, hard to see coming, and if Faust attempted to avoid it simply by backing, he stood a good chance to be wounded.

Faust was a joy, an absolute joy to combat. His brother was quick, effective, and canny. Most other opponents would have taken a mortal blow by this time; but not a Priest. Not one of the Mandalorian élite. Trull's face, under his helmet, was a happy grimace, teeth clenched and nostrils flaring as he worshipped.

His spear was deflected on both attacks, which was not terribly surprising. When Faust made his second parry, Trull followed his spear's motion and spun to his left, giving ground for one step in a quick turn. It ended with the burly priest again presenting the painted fist of his shield to Faust's eyes, spear again poised in his right hand to stab. Trull was half-crouched, tensed and ready. Faust was holding his stance too, for now.

Trull needed a way to get past the other priest's defenses... but how. He began to circle to his left, backing away inch by inch as he eyed his brother. He wanted to bring Faust on the offensive, to see what his brother would attempt.