A carriage came for Elise, bidding her to come to this place, to face Upperclassman Jiraud do Nell in a duel. The carriage only took her so far as the start of an overgrown trail leading into the woods … and Elise had to take herself the rest of the way here by foot: a bit of a hike, really.

She now stands just inside one of the double door entrances at each end of the hall. Long shadows cast across the hall, as the sky turns red with the sunset. Just inside the doorway, there is a pedestal stand, holding a bouquet of assorted flowers in an exquisitely marbled vase.

Wearing her usual ceremonial armor, Elise stands at the doorway to take a moment and gather her thoughts. As she does so, she glances around the room to review it for what may come.

Footsteps echo through the hall, as Jiraud steps into view, walking across the central bridge, his form silhouetted against the darkening sky. "So, you have come after all." He wears his school uniform, but is not decked out in full armor as Elise is. He tucks a white flower into his chest pocket.

"The object of this," the Doberman says, "is to remove the head of your opponent's flower, tucked into the chest pocket. Feel free to select one of those you have at hand. When you are ready, we shall begin."

Elise turns her head towards the sound of Jiraud's voice and takes a step forward. "Yes, I have come," she says as she begins walking again, this time towards the flowers arranged. She looks them over carefully and selects a white rose, which she tucks into a groove in her armor. She then steps away from the vase and moves over to a wide open area of the room that would leave Jiraud's back to the staircase. "I am ready."

Jiraud draws his blade, the Sword of the First Ones, and the steel rings out, echoing through the hall. He raises it high in a salute, catching the light of the setting sun. "Then let us begin."

Elise too draws her blade, the Abaddonian steel making a quiet metallic noise as it slides from its sheath. She salutes Jiraud and nods to him. "En garde."

Jiraud readies his blade, still up on the bridge and quite some distance away from Elise. He begins to walk toward the south walkway, temporarily disappearing from Elise's vision behind the stone guardrails.

Seeing Jiraud disappear, Elise walks backward to where she thinks he cannot easily reach her with a surprise attack. Eyes on where he vanished, she readies her weapon defensively. "So tell me, Jiruad, why do you need to pick on an innocent freshman? Is your ego so frail you need to bully someone? Why not threaten children on the street?"

"Pick on?" comes Jiraud's voice from the south – betraying his progress along the walkway, "You know nothing of which you speak. Sabel is the Servant of the Sword. That role brought her to me." Suddenly he appears, standing on the stone rail, and in a fluid motion, leaps from it!

Elise moves backwards even more when she realizes Jiraud's location. She pulls back more in an effort to cause any sort of leaping stroke to fall short of her, readying her blade to parry in case she fails. "She is an honor, not a slave! You disgrace the sword!"

Jiraud comes not down to the floor immediately, but his arc takes him toward the chandelier. In an entirely disrespectful move that would probably yank most fixtures from the ceiling, he catches onto one of the lower bars of the chandelier, and swings with it, then swings back, spins in the air, and lands on the floor. One of his feet scuffs against the floor, sliding slightly, but all in all, it's still not a bad landing. He quickly spins about to face Elise. "You are out of your league, Cadet."

"I cannot stand down when I see the likes of you abusing your position," retorts Elise. She then takes a step backwards and dashes off to run up the stairs before Jiraud begins to close on her.

Jiraud laughs. "Didn't your mother ever tell you not to run with sharp objects?" He casually strides toward the staircase, taking his time, letting Elise easily outpace him.

"Your insults are as hollow as your sense of pride. I find it particularly sad how you, overlooked because of your species, would berate another non-poodle. One might think you were trying to be a poodle, and we both know you will always be what you are. Never good enough." She dashes up the stairs and stops but a step from the top and whips around, leveling her blade and preparing to back up one more step when he nears. This, Elise hopes, will put Jiraud at a lower level and should make it harder for him to hit Elise's rose, and easier for Elise to hit his.

"Now, now, your judgement of my abilities would have far more impact, if you had first earned my respect in yours," Jiraud says, leisurely making his way up the steps, sword at the ready. "Defeat me, and then maybe you can start criticizing my technique."

"I respect your ability for what it is worth. It is you, the person, I cannot respect. Hiding behind the facade of being so calm, yet we both know what lies beneath. Truly sad," quips Elise as she steps back and readies herself at the level balcony. "You may hold the Sword of the First Ones, but oh how ashamed they may be when they see how you are."

"They shall see me rightly," responds Jiraud, as he walks up within striking range, "as one who takes grasp of the opportunities given him… " He raises his sword. "… rather than running away from them."

"You strangle your opportunities with your abusive manner. You stain the sword you hold, and this tradition." The poodle woman widens her stance so that her legs are spread and have a solid hold on the floor, as well as presenting an obstacle in Jiraud's attack vectors. She readies her sword up and ready to strike or parry while her other arm is raised defensively in front of her. "Win or lose, you have already lost."

"And you strangle yourself by talking until you run out of breath," says Jiraud … as he thrusts in with his blade!

Elise's own blade easily deflects Jiraud's thrust, but as she comes about to make a heavy swing against his own sword to try to unbalance him in his seemingly precarious position … he neatly steps back and lifts his sword out of the way.

Elise lifts her free hand to the ready while pulling her own sword up and back to prepare for another attack. She does not move backwards, instead opting to keep her position at the top of the stairs so as to keep the terrain in her favor.

Jiraud takes a step back … then hops up onto the stone railing of the staircase. It doesn't get much more precarious than that.

Seeing where Jiraud has positioned himself, Elise makes to attack. She opts for a quick, heavy sideways slash at Jiraud's flower that will require he parry, as the blade will take such a wide arc that leaping out of the way might be challenging. Her free hand is lifted above her sword so as not to be in the way of her swinging arm, and to not lose its potential protection.

However, it appears that Jiraud had no intention of staying on his precarious perch for very long. Far more agile than Elise and unencumbered by chitin armor, Jiraud isn't even there when Elise's blade sweeps up in an attempt at his flower.

Her left ear twitching in annoyance, Elise pulls back her blade for a strike she believes will soon come her way. She makes an attempt to shift her body away in a more defensive position, and glances left to right to find Jiraud.

Jiraud comes around behind Elise, now standing up on the bridge, and off of the railing. Rather than striking from behind, he stands there at guard until Elise faces him … and makes that cocky grin of his again.

The poodle woman glances behind her a few seconds after Jiraud sneaks up behind her. Her ear twitches again and shin turns around to face him, weapon at the ready. Unlike Jiraud, Elise is not smiling.

Jiraud moves forward, making a cautious swipe at Elise's flower that is fairly easily parried. However, he does not fully withdraw, leaving himself closer than would make it easy to make a swipe at his flower … though if this were a real fight, he'd still be in range for someone to take a swipe for his head, easily enough.

Unable to swing her weapon without striking Jiraud, and not his flower, Elise tries another plan. Instead of backing away she moves forward towards Jiraud and swings her left hand to backhand his blade away while her sword stays close and guarding. (Perhaps if I could force him to move his blade he may step back and open himself with his blade wide, or else his sword would be cast aside with my blade neatly in front of him.)

Jiraud seems to be caught momentarily off guard by the maneuver, and pulls his sword away from Elise's hand.

Elise steps forward more to put herself where his defending sword would have been, leaving her standing under his guard and staring him in the face. Her left hand does not lower. Instead, it is raised higher to prevent his blade from being swung at her flower at all, even though such a swing would undoubtedly strike her as well. Her sword hand has been waiting, and she lifts the blade up to try and simply drag it across Jiraud's chest where it would sever the flower head as it passed.

For an instant, it seems like Elise's tactic may have succeeded … but at that moment, Jiraud puts one leg slightly back for an anchor, leans back … then lifts his other foot and plants it on Elise's chest … and pushes her backward to the stairs!

Elise is unprepared for this attack directly against her person, and her eyes go wide in shock. A growl escapes her, and she takes a desperate swing in an attempt to finish what she started and sever the flower before she tumbles down the stairs. "You!"

The singularity in Elise's purpose catches Jiraud again off guard … and with a desperate sweep, she takes the top of the flower off, but also cuts a gash into the breast of Jiraud's uniform. This last-ditch attack, however, leaves her completely unable to manage any attempt to regain her balance … and she goes tumbling down the stairs!

"Aiiiieeee!" cries Elise as she goes over the edge of the stairs. Her sword is let to fly from her hand after it strikes Jiraud, spinning off somewhere behind him, before the poodle desperately uses her left hand to keep her from hitting her head too badly on the way down.

Armor does wonders against punctures and piercing … but it has its limitations, as evidenced by the sharp crack and the pain that rips through Elise's arm. The padding under her chitin armor affords her some protection from the tumble down the stairs, but it is of little comfort as she is battered all the way down the stairs, unable to stop the downward roll.

The petals of the severed flower flutter through the air, raining down on the blood-red tiles far below.

The pained whimper of the fallen poodle can be heard through her tumble, only to quiet as she comes to a rest at the bottom of the stairs. The room is silent now, and the poodle woman lays still upon her side, her left arm beside her at an angle arms were not intended to go. A trickle of blood stains the fur on her forehead around her closed eyes.