Their swords crash.
Men covered in metal husks.
They were meant to die.
They stab, they thrust, they throw.
They tire quickly.
As one strikes the other.
They fly into a fit of rage.
What was once a graceful dance between blades.
Turned into a hellish struggle.
They ram each other.
Like wild beasts, they seek only to kill.
In the end, only one may live.
Whether by luck or by skill.
Death does not discriminate.
Taking the lives of whoever may cross his path.