"Shall I take that as a compliment?" Thyra joked not wanting to give too much away she subtly smirked under shadowy features.
Elm started to chuckle again pulling over a hood of rusty looking chainmail his hand met her shoulder. "Whatever your race you are a friend. Take myself for instance... I am not so perfect."
There was a strange yet certain spark in his eyes like an old open book waiting to be read, shortly he turned to watch another duel as the chanted got more tense. Why did he confine in her? She was all too puzzled trying to understand ones nature.
By then dawn was approaching swiftly and the bloodshed was soon over "shall we make our way to the Festival grounds? I'm parched" his posture began to sink into the heavy suit of armor.
"Sure" she replied.
"The drinks are on you though" dared the elf peering over his shoulder holding back the laughter since his sides ached from battle. "Gar!!" he suddenly shrieked as Thyra thumped him playfully tumbling over to the right he bursted out laughing. Your evil you know that" Elm cunningly grinned picking up a gradual speed in attempt to catch her up but also contemplating whether or not to tackle her for fun.
"Not as evil as you are" Thyra answered stepping to one side quite casually as if she studied his vary movement. So they both ventured off towards Ardor's awaiting Festival, pyres burnt in the alluring distance as remaining light was now blanketed with a cloak of darkness.

The knight lifted off his helmet lamp black hair tailed down drenched with sweat, his skin aureoline yellow, and those black eyes could pierce souls, elvish she presumed by his pointed ears. How could she forget such a face.
"I do remember you! About 30-35yrs ago I worked at the stables, and sold you a horse- at a bloody good price. Heh, 2 weeks later you came back claiming the horse had a bad leg and soon died due to infection" he began to laugh midway through brushing back his hair "Haha- I took the blame, you got your refund and I got sacked."
Thyra gazed at him for a moment as the unique elf chuckled away surprised he wasn't at all angry though it was years ago, times were hard back then, and still are. Weather worn gauntlet rubbed the back of her neck recalling that same memory "ah-yeah... I had some debts that needed to be paid off..." her crafty yet dangerous scheme did work but for a price "I' do apologise for your loss."
"That’s fine, the work was hard and the pay was poor, believe it or not you actually done me a favour. I am free man now and wish to protect my homeland as did my fathers. So what is your name?" the elvish knight asked extending his hand.
"I am Thyra, and you are?"
"Elm Amroth Nénharma at your service. Its good to see you again, my gods you haven't aged!" he shook her hand vigorously staring at her closely, Thyra was obviously feeling a little uncomfortable with his over confident approach she stepped back with an weird expression.

His shoulders sagged, and he suddenly threw himself
forward behind his spear, so that while he was starting to step and lift his weapon, his point hit the knights left side where flesh was slightly exposed, and he went down, hard.
"Yield?" the knight said almost jokingly.
The spearman coughed and winced. "Yield" he agreed offering his hand and took it.
"Nice attack" he said. "I'm glad we weren't at blunts."
"Youre very fast and I'm very old" the knight laughed "but you have a little tell.."
"I do?"
"Well, I'm not sure I want you to know" he said. "Next time it might be blunts". Thyra watched the knight depart zig-zagging through the small crowd of esteemed warriors, his shoulder hit hers with a slight weight but she managed to keep her feet. "Excuse me" he said taking a quick glance, and then turning back. "Sorry, excuse me again but, do I know you?" he asked confidently.
"... I don't think we do" Thyra replied feeling very awkward.

The duel continued.
"Right idea, Elm" one of the spectators shouted as warriors beated their shields and protectives. The spearman backed off a bit, his gaze couldn't fix onto knight already fatigued. "Yes" he said.
"Try that again."
"Got your breath yet?"
"I'll have yours in a minute" the spearman replied. He appeared to relax, but then suddenly blurred into motion. He backpedaled, but once again his speed suprised the knight. He caught his attack on the flat of his weapon and felt the lightness of his steel smack against the guard. Then the spearman was past, and he knew he would take a cut at his neck from back there, so he dropped, rolled, and came back up.
Thyra's crimson eyes widened quite impressed a man of his stature could carry such heavy armor, against all odds, and pull off such movement.
The knight saw it again, that slight slumping before his opponent renewed his attack. Again he parried and broke the distance, but not quite so much. The spearman circled, he waited like a predator.

Across weeping meadows kissed by a sun burst sky cheers and battle cries sounded a intoxicating melody across Ardor's compound where several duels and activities took place. A various ring of warriors circled two duelists, one wielding a spear skillfully, and the other a heavy armored knight. Thyra moved closer to the crowed barely peering over tall armored shoulders an earthly sanguine smell became more apparent she almost could taste it on her tongue. She saw the blow coming from the shift of the spearman's shoulder, but it was fast, so fast the knight's dodge almost didn't succeed, and although the edge didn't bite, the flat skimmed his bicep. He swung his sword at the spearman's ribs, but that same quickness danced him just beyond the reach of the knights blade. The Vampyre felt herself becoming familiar with the tactic, repeating sequels in her mind almost like a dream.