You are a sword. The words resounded in Moonstar's head as he eyed up his opponent, a former member of the fighting pits. The blade must be a part of you, take it with you everywhere, sleep with it, learn its every nuance, its curves, its edge, its imperfections. His opponent was large, heavily muscled and a born killer, but so was Moonstar. The sword is you now, its faults are yours, its lethality is yours, its name is your name. The master presented the young boy with a curved blade of Valyrian steel. Moonstar was its name, as old as the free hold, so the boy took its name for his own, one in a long line of Moonstar's. Ten years after that day he found himself in the service of Yezzan zo Qaggaz along with his brother Maidentear and has served as his sworn guard for five years up to this day. Yezzan is a wise master of Yunkai, surely he could get much cheaper bodyguards the Moonstar and Maidentear, but the two are Crescent Blades, and Moonstar was paid for with over 190 pounds of pure gold, his weight in gold. With the onlookers watching the duel Moonstar was certain to prove why he and Maidentear are worth the price.
His foe leaped forward and Moonstar calmly caught the heavy blade in the inner curve of his sword and turned it away, before sweeping it up and carving a bloody line from navel to throat, the gush of blood indicating the wound was fatal. Two strokes. Moonstar could have done it in one. Next came a dozen men in varying armour and weapons. Instantly Moonstar eyed up the threats, they had not fought together, so they would be uncoordinated. One wielded a net and long spear, but had little armour covering his right torso. Moonstar sprung forward, an upwards sweep shearing though the pole of the spear and tuning the handle around in his hand he cut down aiming at the unprotected neck. The fighter could not have reacted in time before the blade sliced through his neck, leaving his head to roll across the sand. The next had full chest covering armour and a shield, but the waist was weak and his weapon arm was not covered at the elbow. A backhand blow sent the shield flying out to the side and Moonstar stepped forward and to the side, slicing his opponents arm off at the elbow and then stepping behind him, where his drew the back point of his sword across the gut. A blow to the back of the neck ended the mans screaming. The others were scared now, two of them had fallen to a warrior to whom sword fighting was a natural and came as easily as breathing and walking. One with a heavy battle axe came forward next, roaring a challenge and swing the double handed axe in a wide arc. Moonstar ducked the swing and hamstrung the aggressor, the decided against leaving him at that and took his legs with a single swing and left him to bleed to death. Three came next stabbing at him with their swords, but they were clumsy in their execution and Moonstar turned all three blades away with a single stroke, the return strike taking the lives of all three, his curved blade trailing blood in the air. And then there were six. Moonstar stepped toward them and they responded in kind, but all of Moonstar's moves deflected one blow while dealing a fatal wound to another fighter, six swings, six dead, dozens of onlookers gaping in awe at the skill of the warrior who now stood alone in the bloodied arena.
And not a single scratch on him.