"First and foremost, a warrior is not gifted, he has earned what he has..." Stated Karaulish and moved his head in such a way that the narrow connector between it and the rest of his body cracked loudly. He did it again, this time bobbing his head to the other side and recreating the noise in one more instance of time. The old warrior moved his hands in circular motions, effectively warming up for the upcoming battle.

"Second and unknown, a warrior cannot state how skilled he is. His mettle must be tested by others, and those who have faced him shall praise his ability accordingly, in the event he is, in fact, skillful..." Continued the wizened by age man and placed the fist of his right hand into the palm of his left, squeezing to create another crack which echoed through the empty location. Karaulish repeated this process for the other grasping extremity he possessed, resulting in a fourth crack.

"Third and final, no words can ever convey the true skill of any warrior, as they are but dancing air..." Added the battle-hardened individual and had his right hand go behind his back, wrap around the steel reinforced handle of the spear and pull at it. A click silently signaled that the leather strap had been undone, and the weapon was free from its sheath. His left hand moved to hold onto the middle of the handle, while his right arm wrapped around it further down the wooden beam. He now took a stance, slightly hunched over the spear, bodily facing the oaken tree, while facially observing the inhuman adversary. 

"What say you?" He finished his claim and narrowed his eyes, indicating a challenge.