Without any further words, he knew that the fight was on. The air stilled as if the world held its breath for each passing moment of this fight. He remembered this feeling, the exhilarating moments before clashing with the enemy. How many have been felled by his hands in this manner? He could not remember, but it was Favian who would step forward first.

Aslain was careful, watching Favian's advance looking for any openings in his opponents defense. Favian took a classic longsword guard that would check any foolish advance. This sir Favian was a calculated man, a worthy opponent. Aslain inched forward, closing the distance between them to six feet, still a little out of reach of a proper swing from his poleaxe. He stepped towards his left, left foot leading as he lowered the head of his poleaxe towards his hip, pointed slightly towards the ground.

He continued this movement circling looking for a gap in his defense. He quickly stopped and shifted his weight to balance himself before deciding to break through Favian's defense with brute force and a burst of speed. He lunged towards Favian attempting to swipe away the point of his sword with the weight of the poleaxe and positioning the axehead's spike towards his chest for a proper thrust.