Post by The Smith on Mar 25, 2008 22:12:00 GMT -5
Jack threw his hands up into the air in disgust. These boys are as useless as a sack of shit, he thought. Jack's two months tenure as Keeper of Slateville had been good to him so far, but hectic. His most loved and most hated part of each day was every morning when he attempted to teach the peasant boys how to use a sword and shield in the small training yard. Some of the boys had shown promise, but a majority of them wouldn't last three seconds against a skilled foe in a real battle. When Jack trained against the boys personally, he never cared about winning, he usually let them take him down in the end in an attempt to encourage them. The only one he cared about winning against was his son, Dan. At six-and-ten Dan was one of the oldest of Jack's students, and by far the most skilled. He had been regularly trained by Jack as a boy, and then by the knights and guards in Lord Stout's service when he had been promoted into the garrison.
At present, Jack dismissed his latest failure with a slap on the head, and turned to Dan, who was next in line. "Alright, little one. Come and get clobbered again," he said, smiling. Dan returned the smile, raising his sword high and cutting down at his father's shield in an attempt to catch him off-guard from the very beginning. No such thing would work on a veteran fighter such as Jack, and the dance began. The boys crowded around close, enthralled. Jack and his sons fights were always the best, in their eyes, although Dan had not yet got around to winning against his father, but he had come close on several occasions.
On this occasion, Dan had the advantage early. He was cutting and slashing, beating at his father's heavy oaken shield that had used to belong to the Lord Slate. Their blunted swords wheeled through the air, meeting time and time again. Dan reached in with a thrust at his father's mailed abdomen, but the oaken shield denied the sword entry. Jack counterattacked with a right-handed, arcing, downward cut, and Dan stumbled under the force of the blow that he had just barely caught on his shield. Jack took no quarter with his son. He must learn to fight. If this was a real fight, that stumble would have been the death of him. Jack battered the shield twice more before he knocked it from his son's grip, leaving him lying unprotected on his back. He parried Jack's finishing blow with his sword, but that too was lost in the process. Dan donned an angry look as he quietly announced that he yielded. Jack smiled, and rubbed his victory in with jests, sending the crowd into heavy laughter. Dan fumed. "Rematch," he announced. "Right now, father." He stood with his arms across his chest, his jaw clench tightly. That's my boy, Jack thought.
Jack studied his son for a moment. "Aye, I'll accept," he said. A cheer went up from the crowd but he quited them with a motion of his hand. "But... a rematch cannot be granted without a condition or two. Dan, if I am to beat ya again, which I will, then you must scrub the floor of the kitchen with the little servin' girls for a moon's turn." The two stared at each other for a long moment before Dan looked down and said that he accepted. Jack was proud. Never back down, son, never back down.
The swords were once again beating at each other, at armor, and at shields. Jack let Dan attack him furiously, in an attempt to let him tire out. He should know better. I'll hafta talk to him about it, he thought. Suddenly, Jack slammed his shield into Dan's chest, sending him reeling backwards, suddenly on the defensive. Jack slashed down with his right arm, and immediately slammed his shield forward again, once again causing Dan to stumble. Jack raised his sword high over his head to send his son all the way to the ground, but the motion caused his right side to be unprotected for a second. Dan's sword slammed into Jack's mailed chest. The older man kneeled down, grunting in pain. Suddenly concerned, Dan dropped his sword and shield to move to his father's side. "Father, are you hurt? I did not mean to --- ", but he was cut off in mid sentence as Jack pummeled his forearm into the boy, sending him to the ground with a thud. "What the hell?" Dan exclaimed, looking at Jack's smiling face over top of his. "Yield," he announced bitterly, but soon a rueful grin spead across his face in disbelief at his father's trick.
Jack helped him to his feet and began explaining him never to show remorse over your enemies, or they will cut you down everytime. "But you're my father, not enemy," the boy replied stubbornly.
"I am your father now. In the yard, I was you're enemy. You've got to get that killer instinct, Dan, or your gonna get killed yourself." Jack ended the session for the day, rubbing his chest where his son had bruised him. He was proud.
Results:
Jack improves to apprentice shield use
Jack gains beginner weapon training
At present, Jack dismissed his latest failure with a slap on the head, and turned to Dan, who was next in line. "Alright, little one. Come and get clobbered again," he said, smiling. Dan returned the smile, raising his sword high and cutting down at his father's shield in an attempt to catch him off-guard from the very beginning. No such thing would work on a veteran fighter such as Jack, and the dance began. The boys crowded around close, enthralled. Jack and his sons fights were always the best, in their eyes, although Dan had not yet got around to winning against his father, but he had come close on several occasions.
On this occasion, Dan had the advantage early. He was cutting and slashing, beating at his father's heavy oaken shield that had used to belong to the Lord Slate. Their blunted swords wheeled through the air, meeting time and time again. Dan reached in with a thrust at his father's mailed abdomen, but the oaken shield denied the sword entry. Jack counterattacked with a right-handed, arcing, downward cut, and Dan stumbled under the force of the blow that he had just barely caught on his shield. Jack took no quarter with his son. He must learn to fight. If this was a real fight, that stumble would have been the death of him. Jack battered the shield twice more before he knocked it from his son's grip, leaving him lying unprotected on his back. He parried Jack's finishing blow with his sword, but that too was lost in the process. Dan donned an angry look as he quietly announced that he yielded. Jack smiled, and rubbed his victory in with jests, sending the crowd into heavy laughter. Dan fumed. "Rematch," he announced. "Right now, father." He stood with his arms across his chest, his jaw clench tightly. That's my boy, Jack thought.
Jack studied his son for a moment. "Aye, I'll accept," he said. A cheer went up from the crowd but he quited them with a motion of his hand. "But... a rematch cannot be granted without a condition or two. Dan, if I am to beat ya again, which I will, then you must scrub the floor of the kitchen with the little servin' girls for a moon's turn." The two stared at each other for a long moment before Dan looked down and said that he accepted. Jack was proud. Never back down, son, never back down.
The swords were once again beating at each other, at armor, and at shields. Jack let Dan attack him furiously, in an attempt to let him tire out. He should know better. I'll hafta talk to him about it, he thought. Suddenly, Jack slammed his shield into Dan's chest, sending him reeling backwards, suddenly on the defensive. Jack slashed down with his right arm, and immediately slammed his shield forward again, once again causing Dan to stumble. Jack raised his sword high over his head to send his son all the way to the ground, but the motion caused his right side to be unprotected for a second. Dan's sword slammed into Jack's mailed chest. The older man kneeled down, grunting in pain. Suddenly concerned, Dan dropped his sword and shield to move to his father's side. "Father, are you hurt? I did not mean to --- ", but he was cut off in mid sentence as Jack pummeled his forearm into the boy, sending him to the ground with a thud. "What the hell?" Dan exclaimed, looking at Jack's smiling face over top of his. "Yield," he announced bitterly, but soon a rueful grin spead across his face in disbelief at his father's trick.
Jack helped him to his feet and began explaining him never to show remorse over your enemies, or they will cut you down everytime. "But you're my father, not enemy," the boy replied stubbornly.
"I am your father now. In the yard, I was you're enemy. You've got to get that killer instinct, Dan, or your gonna get killed yourself." Jack ended the session for the day, rubbing his chest where his son had bruised him. He was proud.
Results:
Jack improves to apprentice shield use
Jack gains beginner weapon training