Chapter 2.1: The Sky and the Mountain

Kalam bows low toward both Shifu. He then turns and bows respectfully towards his opponent Wu Meng. "My name is Kalam Makhir. I represent Shifu Qian. You do me great honor with this match." he then pulls out two mismatched wooden practice daggers from his belt. One called a Janbiya the other is a Hachiwari.

He bows one more time to signify that he is ready. Then drops into fighting stance. His janbiya in his right hand close to his side and his hachiwari in his left held out before him in a reverse grip. He sits low to the ground, seemingly ready to spring across the floor, but he doesn't move.

Wu Meng bowed to both masters, seated as they were on the same side of the square courtyard, facing east, as the morning sun rose to cast a pleasant light on the gathering. The shifus themselves were in a serene, contemplative mood next to each other; this was no competition nor battle, but an opportunity to meet and exchange philosophies between the two schools. The rest of the disciples who ringed the square kept similar meditativeness, although their faces belied the eagerness to watch the proceedings.

"I am Wu Meng, eighth disciple of Shifu Gen. You do me great honour as well with your visit, and more so with this exchange." Meng bowed in gratitude. From his place, he removed his upper robe; it was their custom in weaponless combat to show that they had nothing concealed on their body. Strips of sparring cloth wrapped around his forearms, and both his bald pate and bare chest caught the warmth of the yellow rays.

Stepping forward, his right foot began to trace a circle on the ground, except it wasn't only a circle, but moved to outline the shape of yin and yang, with a bisecting S-shaped line through the centre. At the same time his arms began to rise until they were spread wide on either side of him, fingers pointing downwards. The right foot then lifted, bent in front of him, while his left leg remained unmoving, steady as a mountain, until the monk's stance reached its first position, like a crane poised in stillness, ready to fly.

Edited: Added a roll for the monk's daily starting ki. Forgot to do so earlier. Result - hold 3 ki.

It was but a moment, but it stretched into eternity. Each student studying the other, memorizing form, muscle movement, even breathing. It was Kalam who moved first, grace in motion, like a streak of lightning he propelled forward to Wu Meng. Within hand reach his wooden practice dagger struck out with supernatural precision.

Kalam struck true his faux blade like Quicksilver but his rib were exposed to the towering Wu Meng. Knowing it won't be enough he braces for the impact to come.

As Kalam streaked forward faster than the eye can see, Wu Meng marveled at his amazing speed and saw no way to avoid the blade directed at him. However, the offensive motion of his opponent left Kalam's entire body undefended. With a flick of his hand, Meng touched the ground and flicked a seemingly harmless pebble at Kalam's torso. The stone struck true from the entire momentum generated by the monk's circular motion.

Wu Meng then directed his qi to resist the force of the incoming blade. Made of wood as it was, the impact of a skilled bladesman was still nothing to laugh at. The tip glanced off his shoulder, but grazed his muscle all the same. Twisting to absorb the blow, his own mantis strike went wide, missing the flank of Kalam's ribs by a hair's breath.

His hachiwari clipped the stone but not nearly hard enough. As he struck Wu Meng's shoulder with his Janbiya he felt the wind brush past his ribs from the failed strike.
Now that a measure of the mountain was taken, Kalam saw his opening. His Janbiya quickly struck out blue sand trailing, as a sigil with a jagged line through it hung in the air behind it. His faux blade crackles with Galvanic energies as he strikes.

Kalam seeing his blow strike true, quickly follows up with a Torrential onslaught of strikes. Not letting up now that he had momentum, knowing that should Wu Meng recover, he might be on the receiving end.

Wu Meng continued to be impressed by the deftness at which Kalam moved both his blades. His failed strike cost him dearly as the blade which injured his shoulder drew blue energy from Kalam's mastery of the sky. The lighting arc jolted his shoulder where it made contact, and coursed down his entire arm, leaving it paralysed. Then a blinding series of slashes confronted him, leaving Meng no choice but to flip out of the way, leaping backwards to a distance unreachable by those blades, giving the monk a moment to center his own focus.