Arn followed the pair to the designated area.  He gave a sweeping look towards those in the vicinity.  Almost as if it could be sensed in the air, heads started to turn to their passing.  He noticed that the White haired knight seemed to command respect.  A very obvious shield with two crossed swords became evident.  How had he missed that?  The battlemage's opinion of the man grew some.  If the white haired knight was indeed the commanding officer, and if Arn remembered his knight ranks correctly he was, then the amount of reservation and propriety at Arn's apparent impudence was astronomical.  Most knights, especially high born ones,  would have lashed him with tongue and later maybe even with a proper cat o nine tails. 

As it was, Arn had observed some dissatisfaction register on the face of the knight but he had attributed it to the way he usually talks which off puts  people. Their short walk to the designated area had gathered quite the following.  The news of the match spreading like waves upon a still lake.  The anticipation was brimming on the eyes of those starting to gather.  A group of designated men prepared the area eagerly.  He caught the names and code names of the knights' he had been so bold as to lecture. 

It seemed like the white haired Knight was indeed the Captain Tyrhallan in command of the current outfit which he and his mage battalion had been assigned to.  The other, as he had suspected upon hearing the family name was the one named the Spider.  Both were renowned fighters and the usually calm and collected battlemage started to feel a twinge of excitement at being able to witness their prowess.  In battle, its hard to actually measure a man's skill as any move that wounds or kills is a good one.  Even efficient fighters must sometimes sacrifice finesse for numbers in the battle field. But here, it was just the two of them.  Only skill would determine the victor.

Sensing the impatience of those gathered added to his own desire to witness a good show, Arn pronounced loud and clear the match to begin.  A burst of noise followed.  Jeers, cheers and swears stirred a cacophony that would have been appropriate if this was a covert mission. Their position on the hill would perhaps work to their advantage.  The ruckus might travel to the village of Presper.  Any person in favor of the Belisian's would take the noise as a sign of hope.  Those that would raise arms against them would interpret it as a sign of danger.

Whatever the case, the fight was underway. Despite the chaos on the sidelines, the two fighters were all on their world own inside the circles.  Arn himself was captivated by the dance that the knights had embarked upon.  He would be able to learn about these me in each strike. For though he was only a mage, he appreciated all aspects of martial prowess.  The battlemage gulped as he felt more than saw the disturbance in the Aether fields around the two opponents.  After all, blade wilders tapped in a different way to the life force of Gia. 

This match was indeed something to devote one's attention to.