So I was playing Fall of Eden...

Walking along the beaten path, you come across a scrawled note left on the ground. Curious, you bend down and pick it up.

To be dragon or lizard, that is the question–
Whether ’tis nobler in the mind to suffer
The dilemmas of outrageous fortune,
Or to take arms against a sea of choices,
And by deciding, end them? To TF, to rest–
No more; and by choice, to say we stop
The heart-ache, and the thousand natural qualms
That mind is heir to? ‘Tis a consummation
Devoutly to be wished. To pick, to choose,
To end, perchance regret; Aye, there’s the rub,
For in that transformation, what doubts may come,
When we have turned part lizard, part dragon,
Must give us pause.

...What is this?

As you’re walking through the plaza, the voice of a man shouting in anger catches your attention. It is shrill and nasal at once, oozing arrogance and presumption. Feeling morbidly curious, you cross the street to get a closer look at what’s going on.

You see a richly dressed, if deeply unstylish, nobleman yelling at a morph servant who was apparently accompanying him. You can’t quite tell what exactly he has done to offend him, as the noble roundly curses him for being a total incompetent and a disgusting beast.

The noble is on the short side, and his stomach shows something of a paunch. He is visibly balding, his gray hair leaving a shiny spot at the top of his head. His velvet clothing looks like it was cut to fit him when he was a fitter man, but is still in good condition. Well, that is, unless its purple and orange coloration somehow developed with age. You fervently hope that the garish combination is just an eccentricity of the man, although it is conceivable that it may have simply gone out of style years ago. At his hip, hangs a long slender fencing blade, at odds with his portly stature.

As you examine him, you realize that his appearance matches what you were told of lord Krawitz. Luck seems to be on your side in finding the man. Perhaps you could use this opportunity to challenge him to a fencing match and humiliate him in front of the crowds passing by. You recall that you were told he was an excellent fencer, but, given his appearance, you can’t help but wonder if maybe the description was a little overblown...

Besides, you were quite fortunate to stumble upon him out and about. You get the feeling that if you leave now, it won’t happen again.

You approach Krawitz, placing yourself between him and his servant. He pauses in his tantrum and glares at you. With a sardonic smile, you remark to the lord that he must be paying quite a bonus to his servants so they would let him yell at them. Otherwise, they’d probably just beat him up for being so obnoxious.

“Why... you...” he sputters, his faces growing redder with rage. “I will have you pay for this!”

You tell him that you’ll be glad to pay if he can make you. You’ll fight him here and now if he wants.

He visibly concentrates, regaining a modicum of composure. His brow is still covered in deep furrows, but he forces his breathing to grow steadier. “Very well, I accept. Since you challenged me, I choose the method - fencing blades to first blood. Since you don’t have a suitable sword, I’ll have my servants fetch you one. Rufio, bring this... man... something, so none may say that I carved him up unjustly.”

You wait awkwardly, half-turned away from Krawitz, for the servant to return. The man seems confident and has managed to regain his cool, and you can’t help but wonder if this was a good idea.

Finally, the servant comes jogging back, carrying a plain fencing blade. It is unadorned, but seems sturdy enough, and, hefting it, you find that it has a good balance.

“Well then, it’s time to end this charade. You’ve got your weapon, now prepare to lose with it.” Krawitz sounds like he’s eagerly anticipating the fight.

A space has cleared around the two of you with a densely packed crowd of onlookers marking its limits. You face each other, and Krawitz takes two steps away from you and you do the same. The two of you turn around and face each other, the tips of your foils just barely crossing. He assumes an en garde stance, one foot facing toward you, the other perpendicular, and you awkwardly mimic his posture, deciding he probably knows what he’s doing.

The servant Krawitz called Rufio does a countdown for you before raising his arm to indicate the start of the fight. You bat Krawitz’ blade aside with a quick movement. Looking closely, it seems like he’s actually able to follow your motions, anticipate them, even, but you are so much faster than him it makes little difference.

You could have won easily in the first instants of the duel, but you are here to humiliate him. That calls for something more... To gasps of shock from the crowd, you dance circles around Krawitz, your blade a continuous blur in the air. Its tip never quite touches Krawitz’ flesh, but you tear his clothing into strips, leaving his pale body peaking through the gaps.

Finally, when his dress is reduced to an unrecognizable rag, you decide to finish the ‘duel’. You knock his foil out from his hand with one motion, and draw a wide, jagged line of red across his cheek with the next. That should make the event a little more memorable for him.

You make a small bow to the crowd, and, handing the foil to Rufio, walk off. They seem to have no attention left for you, however, as they are busy jeering at Krawitz, whose clothes have come apart fully, leaving him quite exposed to the elements and their eyes.

That should cover his humiliation nicely. Still, you wonder if perhaps you shouldn’t play with him a bit more...