Dancing Blades

A battle of honor and a duel of wits,
Execution over result.
A thrust coupled with a repartee,
A blow with an insult.

That�s what you see in a Bladesinger spar,
As we tirelessly practice our trade.
A quick sword and a quicker tongue,
Our mind as keen as our blade.

I salute my partner, and with a smile
Begin my probing feint.
Careful not to overextend,
Our actions show restraint.

My opponent makes a sudden lunge,
His blade piercing skin and bone,
I collapse to the ground, paralyzed,
With an agonizing groan.

I bite hard on a bloodroot leaf,
My muscles quickly unlock.
My opponent knows not my subtle trick,
That now I can parry and block

He advances with a sneer on his face,
Laughing at my feigned despair.
He lunges at me but I flip away,
He pierces only air.

�How now, friend? What have you got?�
I say with a joking smile.
He recovers and comes on guard again,
His expression quite hostile.

I think through my studies of poetry,
Trying to forget his rapier's gleaming.
I finally recite a confusing haiku,
He pauses and ponders its meaning.

�Et La!� I yell as I thrust my sword,
My blade entering his heart.
He stiffens in pain and he looks at me
�Dang, you sure are smart!�


Penned by my hand on the 14th of Scarlatan, in the year 385 AF.