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Overused, filthy baseball cap, check.

Totally drenched and soon to be discarded black t-shirt, check.

Equally drenched but probably still wearable after the fight polyester athletic shorts, check.

Sword, bow (though strangely no quiver in sight), and hunting knife? All check. The bladed weapons remained sheathed, the longsword across his back, the hunting knife at his hip, while his bow was slung across his shoulder.

Reyin stood at just under six feet in height and looked to have a pretty average build. Even in the rain it was easy to see that he was at least athletically gifted, with muscle tone becoming apparent whenever he flexed his arm or gripped onto his sword's hilt as he ran through his pre-fight ritual.

From the look of just about everything, Reyin was just a normal human with a couple of weapons on him. No real supernatural aura, no artifacts of unimaginable power, just a blonde kid, no more than twenty two years old, with some outdated equipment.

Unlike last round, Reyin wasn't barefoot, choosing to wear a pair of comfortable tennis shoes instead. He did manage to wrap his palms fairly well with athletic tape prior to making his appearance in the 'arena', obviously anticipating the rain's effect on his grip.

What rain didn't soak right through the baseball cap on his head ran right off the front of the bill, keeping the rain out of the blonde kid's eyes as he dipped his head forward, inspecting the footing as he kicked his foot into the ground. Some water squelched up, indicating that the ground was practically flooded before the fight had even begun.

The grass was solid, but...with two bodies being thrown around at high intensity it was anyone's guess as to how long before patches of the turf became muddy, slick, and a pain in the a** for quick adjustments.

"Man, last thing I need for mom to see back home is me rollin' around in the mud with some girl I haven't even met."

He cracked a half-smile to himself, revealing pearly white teeth for a split second before his right hand swept up, pulling his baseball cap off of his head as his left ran through rain-slicked hair. Once that was out of the way, Reyin spun the cap around and put it back on his head, leaving the bill pointing straight backwards.

"Hope she gets over it by Thanksgiving."

"Whoa-"

A moment of concern on Reyin's part, as his inherent need to just help people when things went south sparked a small adrenaline surge as he took a step forward and shot an arm out. It was a futile gesture, Reyin was still in the center of the stage, too far away to actually be of any help. But hey, at least the show of concern was a nice gesture.



"You alright there?"

Reyin's query preceded the introduction, but it was up to Arian if she would respond in kind. Silence was just as fine as a 'yes', but as far as being cordial was concerned, some words would go a long way. Unfortunately, given the light, casual tone that Reyin often spoke in, it could just as easily be inferred that Reyin was mocking the poor girl. Not exactly his intent, but to someone that didn't know the blonde's easygoing nature it was an easy mistake to make.

Once she had regained her footing, and taken up her position not more than fifteen feet away, Reyin performed a quick summary of the girl's equipment. Her upper body was practically a walking armory, not even considering the weapons strapped at her waist or the staff on her back. Judging by that, Reyin figured the girl either knew what she was doing or was so oblivious that she had just grabbed whatever was on the table and strapped it to her body in some way, shape, or form.

Given that she was an active participant in the tournament, Reyin had to assume the former.

"Reyin."

He flashed a smile, doing his best to keep the mood light despite the lingering storm in the skies and the impending storm in the ring.

"Hope I'm better than the last guy, too."

He had no idea what she meant by that comment, but Reyin was just here to have fun. Maybe get his name out there a little bit in order to promote his freelance heroism business, but mostly for fun.

"So."

His left hand went back, tugging on the bill of his cap and ensuring that the thing was snug to his skull. His right, meanwhile, moved to the hilt of his longsword.

"You ready to rock?"

"Good."

As soon as Arian took off, Reyin's left hand went to the piece of wood around his shoulder, picking up and then dropping the short bow he had brought along with him to the ground. It was a precautionary measure, a weapon that he brought just in case he needed an extra device to hit somebody with. What he didn't need in this case was something that influenced his range of motion. Not with a girl who was for all intents and purposes a walking house of blades.

His right arm removed the sword from its scabbard, and his left grasped the baldric that held the scabbard to his back. His head ducked down, and as he unslung the scabbard from his back, instead of discarding the rather simple sheathe, Reyin tossed the scabbard up by its strap and snagged ahold of the thing near the tip, opposite the throat of the scabbard, where the sword would usually enter. The scabbard was pretty plain, though it was mostly composed of hard leather, the outside was covered with a thin layer of metal to prevent any damage coming to the sword while it was housed. It wasn't exactly the most conventional of weapons, but for Reyin, the thing worked beautifully.

Now with two weapons to match his opponent, Reyin shot forward, kicking up an impressive amount of water with his first two strides before he settled down, gained traction, and just barreled forward to meet Arian halfway.

Already taller than Arian, Reyin's longsword only added to his reach advantage. Even his scabbard was potentially longer, with the sword standing in at four feet, three inches from pommel to tip and the scabbard somewhere in the range of three feet and seven inches.

With that in mind, Reyin began his swing before Arian was even in range. Given the slick terrain, Reyin planted both of his feet and leaned back a little bit, sliding across the top layer of grass for several inches as his right arm swung across the length of his body, delivering a mostly-horizontal slash moving from right to left, with the tip of Reyin's sword aimed to make contact just above Arian's navel.

Reyin would keep sliding whether or not he made contact, for at least another half a foot.

But hey, at least he had a scabbard.

The two swords struck just as a roar of thunder peeled the sky, only for a flash of lightning to light up the sky moments later. By comparison, the small spark that the two swords let off on impact was hardly worth noting. Reyin was all smiles for the brief instant where they were able to maintain eye contact, even though he was straining to keep his right arm pushing forward, keeping that left arm of hers occupied.

"So...whaddaya say we-HEY! MFFMFMF!"

Maybe he should have kept his cap facing forward. With the bill the way it was, Reyin wasn't seeing crap aside from a faceful of fabric. The baseball cap did keep his head from being completely covered, but it wasn't doing much to keep him from being dragged around by his head as Arian kept moving in whatever direction his sword-arm kept pushing her. At this point the audience was probably laughing more than they were on the edge of their seats, because the entire scene was just ridiculous.

Reyin needed to figure out some way to get himself out of this business, so when he finally settled on a course of action, he suddenly pulled his right arm back and let his legs out from underneath him, coincidentally, right around the time that Arian yanked hard on her cloak.

Reyin dropped into a baseball slide, managing to keep himself from doing a complete faceplant. Unfortunately, the baseball slide came at the cost of his baseball cap, which remained securely wrapped up in Arian's cloak.

He couldn't see much on the way out, with his head forced downwards the way it was by the pull, so when he finally slid out from underneath the lower folds of the cape, Reyin had no idea where he was in relation to Arian.

As it turns out, if he would have laid his head back and looked directly behind him, he would have seen Arian standing there, not more than two feet away. Which, coincidentally, is exactly what he did.

"Hm."

He lifted his head again, looking between his legs as he rolled onto his back. Then he went back to looking at Arian, who suddenly seemed much taller, even if she was upside down.

"Probably too late to ask for a hand up?"

Oh, hey. That wasn't very nice.

Reyin had seen what competition could do to people, seen just how dishonorable some fighters were, and witnessed firsthand what people would do in times of desperation. He never pictured Arian to be the dishonorable, desperate type that would do anything to win, but that was why he was considered a horrible judge of character.

There wasn't even time for a look of surprise. No time to contemplate the betrayal he felt, nothing to do but act. Reyin was good at thinking on his feet, so there was no reason to think that he couldn't do equally well on his back.

She was to his left, if only slightly so that she could get a better shot at his throat. Sitting up wasn't going to work, neither would rolling backwards. There was one option really, and Reyin didn't even have time to come to that conclusion. He just reacted, the moment he saw that staff shooting in his direction he rolled to his right.

That wasn't all, though. As he rolled, his left hand came up and dragged the scabbard into the air, allowing the baldric (the strap that held the scabbard to Reyin's back), to hook underneath the staff. Reyin couldn't roll much more than arm's length away as long as the staff was stuck in the mud, but he did manage to roll onto his chest (his left arm was now resting uncomfortably beneath his chest).

Reyin didn't wait to try to get anymore. He pushed himself up with his right hand, tucked his knees in underneath his body, and while still on his knees, pulled on the scabbard.

One of two things would happen. Either Arian would hold her staff in place, and Reyin would be dragged towards her, sliding on the field of soaked grass on his knees, or Arian would manage to remove Reyin's scabbard from the staff.

Should the former happen, Reyin would be sliding in with his sword point forward, aimed to stab Arian in her left shoulder.

Should the latter happen, Reyin wouldn't be doing much, just on his knees, in a somewhat more comfortable position than before.

Reyin had time now, a sort of luxury he hadn't been afforded much recently. He held his scabbard out in front of him like it was a bladed weapon, with the 'edge' facing towards Arian and his right hand back, held up over his head with the point towards the girl. All things considered, the little standoff looked kind of weird, and seemed to get the crowd on edge.

"LET'S GO!"
"C'mon! I paid good money for these seats!"
"Stop playin' around!"
"GET WITH THE PROGRAM!"

Arian's own jeering was added to that, and Reyin sighed, slipping his left knee out from underneath his torso to plant his foot on the grass. Pushing off his thigh, Reyin stood upright and started shaking out his right foot, obviously disappointed that his shoes were just as soggy as the grass.

"Didn't figure you for the impatient type."

He tapped the toe of his shoe into the ground, then tossed his scabbard back over his shoulder. Reyin was completely unaware of the conflict going on within Arian. He was just being himself, something he had forgotten to do in the previous round. He had gotten too serious, too frustrated with an opponent that just bounced away the entire time. Not this time, he was going to keep things on a nice, even keel.

"But hey. Who am I to deny an infamous lady her request?"

He bowed, sweeping his now free left hand across his body in a poor imitation of a nobleman asking for a dance.

"Allow me to make amends."

No longer with the range advantage, Reyin ducked his shoulder, allowing the scabbard to fall back into his left hand as he surged forward, keeping his sword low, pointed down and slightly behind him.

Just before entering his own striking range, Reyin hurled the scabbard in an underhanded throwing motion, the metal-encased tip of the weapon on a collision course with Arian's forehead.

It wouldn't do much in terms of damage, maybe leave a welt at the very worst, but it was a solid distraction, seeing as how very few people were keen on getting whacked in the head.

As for Reyin, his charge was culminating in that longsword of his moving from his back to his front, obviously preparing to defend against some sort of incoming blunt trauma.

There was something different about the girl now. She no longer looked like she was angry, she looked like she was about ready to murder somebody. Since Reyin was really the only viable target as he charged headlong into the fire, well, it didn't exactly look good for the young fighter.

Now he had to focus, get his s**t together, and stop treating the thing like it was a playdate. There was always time for fun, for seeing the lighter side of things, but if Reyin didn't start acting like he cared about the fight, well, it looked like he was going to be in for a long day. Arian had apparently overcome her reservations without much difficulty. Just before her throw, Reyin's left hand moved across his body to join his right in gripping onto the longsword, providing some more support as he prepped his strike.

The rain was so heavy that Reyin barely noticed the vial that Arian produced, and it was only by sheer luck that he swung his sword in the path of the thing. The vial exploded, coating his sword with the sulfuric mixture, simultaneously causing Reyin's nose to wrinkle up and his sword to catch on fire.

Some of the mixture landed on his clothing, causing portions of his shirt and shorts to flare up, but the vast majority of the vial had exploded along the flat of his longsword, and suddenly there was a torch in the middle of the arena.

Reyin was so put off by this sudden development that he didn't even consider defending the baseball swing to his right arm. All he did was turn his body slightly away from the incoming attack, wincing and clenching his teeth together, a hiss of breath escaping through his lips as the staff smashed against his bicep, causing an instant rush of pain that wouldn't dull for quite some time, even with the aid of a chilled rain. His right hand lost its grip on the sword, but the left took the responsibility pretty well.

"Jeeze! You mad or..."

Reyin was pivoting on his right foot, spinning around, ducking down low, and getting underneath the staff that had smacked into his arm. It was a long spin, but Reyin was counting on Arian's recovery from the baseball swing being fairly long, or at least long enough for Reyin to pivot about two hundred and seventy degrees.

"...SOMETHING?!"

And as soon as he finished his pivot, Reyin attempted to jam the pommel of his longsword right beneath the ribs on Arian's left side. By the end of all of this weird spinning crap, Reyin's left shoulder was practically right next to Arian's chest, no more than a foot apart.