Tyrhallan took the liberty of informing Sergeant Firenze of his sparring match, telling him for the time being he had command whilst he was occupied with his opponent.
Naturally the most curious of the bunch caught on and eagerly informed the others.
"Cap'n is gonna fight Spider. This is gonna be good."
"My money is on the Captain bet you 5 silverlings he's gonna make the boy eat dust..."
"Nah, I'll put my money on the Spider, I've seen him fight before, he's got some mean moves."
Tyrhallan ignored the other knights as they saw the opportunity to start a betting pool and placing bets.
His men eager to see the outcome followed quickly in his shadow as they moved towards their 'new arena'.
Here will do," Leo said as he lowered his sabre, letting it trail over the stalks of grass all around them before turning to face the Crimson Rider. "What do you think?"
His eyes ran over the desired area, following the lay of the land, the sweet early summergrass glowing golden as the wind sung through it.
He looked back at Leo and gave a single strong, weightful nod, before he watched the sun for a moment more. 
Quickly the men began with setting up the ring, a large set of circles were drawn in the meadow, the grass flattened to establish the small little world Tyrhallan and Leo would contain themselves to.
A knights world.
A world wherein you waltzed with Death.
If the men did not take care and restrained themselves to a fine lined degree their dance would end...forever...
He watched Leo smirk, eagerly taking up the same guarding stance once more.
"Ready to demonstrate how a knight talks?"
Tyrhallan smiled at those words allowing a pause to fall as he moved fluidly, nonchalantly into position.
"Dalmer, tell me...What defines you?" 
"What will you tell Death when Death finally shows you its face?" 
"When it has had enough and is tired of all those poor fools that have had the sad predicament of being in the way of your blade?"
"Will you embrace it or will you battle it, I wonder..." Tyrhallan said as he slid his own blade out of its sheath. 
As he held it up he gazed for a moment in the black abyss that reflected his image.
There were few that ever had the good fortune to see the unsheathed sword. This was due to Tyrhallan's fightingstyle and if they did, it was usually the last thing that flashed before their eyes, before they met the sharp steel of 'Fatebringer'.
As the wind changed so did Tyrhallan. 
The wrist of his right arm turned and the blade rotated with it, its glint eerie, as it almost seemed that the rays of sunlight that reached the blade were slashed into a broken myriad of colours.
The predatory gaze had returned, his eyes darkened as his arm moved in a creeping pace into its position.
Starting in an open Vom Tag position he waited for the Arbiter to start off their little sparring match. 
The muscles and nerves in his legs tightening and straining to literally burst into action. As soon as Arn had opened their match, Tyrhallan, true to his name, dove forwards at his opponent with a terrifying speed. Bringing in a mastercut, using his speed and momentum to swing the blade upward and tilt it. Knowing his opponent used speed in his attacks and dodges too not allowing Leo to simply block his blow. 
Now it would come down to technique and skill.
As the blades collided, they sung, Tyrhallan turned his Zwerchhau inward, knowing most opponents would be too off guard by the first strike, that the follow up often was fatal. 
He also knew that Leo wasn't a fool and had talent, but he would be pleased if their fight lasted for bit longer at the least.

[url](For the move https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=yejU_Cq8Qzs for those interested) [/url]