"I suppose we will," said the Tegerfelden scion regretfully, carefully reaching for the dagger beside him.

It was a well-balanced weapon, he noted, hefting it up to feel its weight. Though he was far more experienced with longer weapons (such as longswords or rapiers), the blade that had been assigned to him by the hosts felt comfortable within his right hand, the velvety black leather providing him with a strong grip. Fascination for the tool immediately boiled up within his soul, and he yearned to give it a few experimental swings to understand the dagger better. Yet he controlled himself; this was a weapon that he would use for only purpose - to kill. It was not an instrument of honourable combat like the epées of his mortal life. It was a tool of murderer, and to relish in its usage felt quite ... well ... immoral to Liudolf.

Some would say that he was overcomplicating the issue, but in his heart, the young noble felt rather at odds with the barbaric purposes that this beautiful weapon would be subject to.

It was true that his opponent was unlikely to be in a deceased state permanently, but the expectations of the mortal world were rather difficult to disassociate from his new life.

"Let us begin then," murmured Liudolf solemnly, his slow steps resounding against stone as he approached his opponent, dagger pointed forwards.