It took him a small amount of time - though not overlong - to calm his nerves and focus on the 'presentation' he was being offered by the other, who had meticulously laid out a sort of demonstration for Taelian to partake in. He observed, quietly, as Talon grabbed his own blade and swung at the breastplate he had set upon a mannequin as practice. A clattering impact, with sparks flashing alight; it was what was to be expected when striking at plate, at least with a regular weapon, and a regular swordsman. Taelian could tell that Talon was not entirely unskilled with the blade, but he did not attempt to do anything flashy with it. He would need to observe more, he thought, to better gauge his skill.
The other man explained things better; the enchantments upon his blade, how it was crafted with superior materials that had been gathered by the smith himself. How it was nearly unbreakable, and despite the breastplate's own minor durability attunement, it was likely that Taelian would be able to break through it with fair ease. That meant that, likely, on top of nearly insurmountable durability the weapon was also superior at breaking through metal, or perhaps had a truly stellar cutting ability.
As it had already been Enkindled, Ard Fuil was essentially doubling up in both of those factors; he was intrigued by how well it would perform.
Taelian drew the blade, pulling the ruby length from its quality sheath, and held it before him. The molten veins of Enkindling crowded the earlier length of the weapon, with only meager cinders of heat exuding from the end length of the blade. Enkindled, the black edges of the weapon appeared almost chromatic as he turned and adjusted the sword. It was truly a handsome weapon, and he was impressed immensely by the effort placed into constructing it.
He stepped forward, towards the mannequin, and prepared to swing. Taelian's stance slightly parted as he bent forward somewhat onto one knee, with his other leg behind it, outstretched somewhat diagonally in order for his back heel to hold firm against the floor. He held the hilt of his weapon with both hands, Ard Fuil's tip aimed opposite from where Taelian faced and pointed somewhat downwards, towards the floor. Quickly, he stepped forward, and fluidly into his movement the blade quickly swung almost like a pendulum until it was facing directly forward him, slicing upward from below through the breastplate. He quickly pivoted his wrist after the swing culminated, fluidly forcing the weapon to descend once more until he pressed the tip of the weapon hard against the floor by his feet. Two quick, vertical swings, each of them tearing through large sections of the breastplate; it felt like nothing to do so. It was easy.
With a normal weapon, even against normal armor, he could not generally dismantle plate with such ease.
"It's... impressive, Talon," he smiled, faintly. It was genuine; he was truly impressed. Enough to uplift him, very much so. "This will serve me very well against Dranoch -- their bolstered claws can often cut through normal weapons, and they're hard to tear through themselves. In melee combat, I believe I'll finally have a significant advantage," he noted, and moved again to smoothly sheath his weapon.
"I truly feel like an Ebon Knight," he remarked. "Thank you, again, Prince. Is there anything left you wish to show?" He doubted it, though he supposed it was possible. Talon did state seemingly more than once that the blade Taelian now wielded was his greatest work; a masterpiece, in its own right. Though he knew little of Runeforging, he knew that its scope was broad.
