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Post by Sam on Mar 28, 2008 18:48:54 GMT -5
A wide open square inside the keep on the Arbor where men can train with their favored weapon either against each other or against mock fighters, targets, or quintains.
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Post by Sam on Mar 28, 2008 18:54:25 GMT -5
Lord Jaymes, escorted by half a dozen guards, stepped up to the drill square where assorted knights, squires, men-at-arms, and other men sparred and practiced against each other. He lifted a hand to shade his eyes from the morning sun, and breathed deep. He had missed the breeze that came in off the sea, which did not penetrate his tower cell. He walked to a stand where training versions of various weapons stood, and inspected several before selecting a hand-and-a-half sword made of heavy oak. He hefted it in two hands, running his fingers over the smooth wood, and took a fighting stance. He tried a few practice strikes, slowly and precisely cutting the air. He started to stretch, to loosen his muscles so that he would not cramp as easily up during fighting, a trick he had learned as a squire.
When he had finished he turned to the guards and cocked his head. "Does anyone care to trade a few blows with me? Somebody skilled, I would prefer, I wish to make sure that my skills have not gone to rust during my captivity."
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Post by The Flint on Mar 28, 2008 20:06:33 GMT -5
The drilling square is fairly empty, as is most of the keep. Apparently the fleet is away.
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Post by mark on Mar 29, 2008 9:10:17 GMT -5
To the mild surprise of many in the yard, Ser Edric Cuy, heir to Sunflower Hall, is the first to accept Farman's offer. Although a decent swordsman, the man has never been reputed to be outstanding.
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Post by Sam on Mar 29, 2008 9:51:23 GMT -5
Jaymes battered the younger man back and to the ground in a few strokes. He moved as quickly and gracefully as ever, but something about his balance felt wrong, though he was sure nobody but himself could notice. He laughed, and helped the dazed young knight to his feet. The young man wore a slightly confused, as well as irritated, look on his face, and Jaymes pointed out a few places where his form could be improved. The two men sparred with each other for a while longer and the sunflower knight surely left the yard with more bruises, but stronger skills with his sword as well.
Jaymes turned to his guards after his opponent had gone. "I realize we cannot go to the harbor, but might I walk the top of the walls and look down on it? I wish to look on my ship, even if I can only see it from inside the keep."
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Post by mark on Mar 29, 2008 10:14:20 GMT -5
Edric, although being slightly over thirty years of age, was used to being mistaken as younger than he really was. Although of average height and build, his face had always been bare and smooth, and combined with his shoulder-length golden hair, it gave his face a somewhat youthful, and not unattractive, appearance.
At present, he was bathing, trying to soothe his aching bruises he had suffered in the training bout. Edric had always preferred the pen to the sword, and even the battleship to the sword. However, he knew that he would need to improve his swordwork if he was to ever become a respected lord in the Far Reach. His father was growing ill, and he may become Lord Cuy sooner than he had anticipated.
His thoughts wandered back to Jaymes Farman, a prisoner in the Arbor. The man had the little concealed confidence, and what some may label as arrogance, of the talented knight. But Edric liked him. A westerman may lighten up the mood on this island, he remarked to himself. Most of the other knights had sailed two weeks prior with the Redwyne fleet to destroy the Dornish ships, but Edric had been ill and was forced to stay.
He rose from his bath and after dressing, and told his squire to fetch the cook to prepare him a meal. And, he added as the boy was departing the room, inform the guards outside his cells that I would like to have the Lord Farman sup with me.
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