Post by The Stranger on Apr 3, 2008 10:28:16 GMT -5
Sweat poured from the bodies of the two opponents. The tall olive skinned men circled each other warily, both wielding wooden practice swords; one longer and broader than the other. The slightly shorter man darted forward, sword snaking towards an area he decided would be open, "Gotcha!" shouted Holland Fowler triumphantly.
However, it was not to be. The taller of the two men, Elijah Martell, took a nimble half step back and brought his larger sword down in a quick quarter circle; wood struck wood with a loud smack. "Maybe next time, old friend," he said as he turned his sword, lunged forward and smacked Holland across the arm.
"Damnit," swore the other man, "how can you be faster than me with that bulky thing!" he took a stumbling step but immediately spun, and brought his sword around in a descending arc towards Elijah's shoulder.
Elijah swiftly moved to counter, "Practice, Holland, and it's something we--," the wind rushed from Elijah's lungs and he stumbled back in surprise, going down to a knee. He changed his attack, thought the larger man to himself, but had little time to think as Holland rushed quickly forward for the finishing blow. As the other combatant ran in, Elijah extended his blade two-handed.
It was too late for Holland to avoid it and there was a second instance of air rushing from someone's lungs in as many seconds. The two men sat heavily as one, and looked at each other with chagrin. "If war is really coming to Dorne, this is something that we are going to have to put ourselves through at every opportunity," Elijah said, "Not to mention so many other preparations."
Holland nodded, "Well, since we've comfirmation of our Navy's destruction at the hand of those northern bastards, I can only agree but our country takes care of it's own. If they think they have the upper hand in a land war in fair Dorne, they've got another think coming." He spat for good measure.
Elijah smiled grimly, "Round two, then?"
A fierce glint appeared in Holland's eye, "Of course, my lord."
Results:
Elijah approaches Master in sword fighting (greatsword)
Holland approaches Expert in sword fighting (longsword)
However, it was not to be. The taller of the two men, Elijah Martell, took a nimble half step back and brought his larger sword down in a quick quarter circle; wood struck wood with a loud smack. "Maybe next time, old friend," he said as he turned his sword, lunged forward and smacked Holland across the arm.
"Damnit," swore the other man, "how can you be faster than me with that bulky thing!" he took a stumbling step but immediately spun, and brought his sword around in a descending arc towards Elijah's shoulder.
Elijah swiftly moved to counter, "Practice, Holland, and it's something we--," the wind rushed from Elijah's lungs and he stumbled back in surprise, going down to a knee. He changed his attack, thought the larger man to himself, but had little time to think as Holland rushed quickly forward for the finishing blow. As the other combatant ran in, Elijah extended his blade two-handed.
It was too late for Holland to avoid it and there was a second instance of air rushing from someone's lungs in as many seconds. The two men sat heavily as one, and looked at each other with chagrin. "If war is really coming to Dorne, this is something that we are going to have to put ourselves through at every opportunity," Elijah said, "Not to mention so many other preparations."
Holland nodded, "Well, since we've comfirmation of our Navy's destruction at the hand of those northern bastards, I can only agree but our country takes care of it's own. If they think they have the upper hand in a land war in fair Dorne, they've got another think coming." He spat for good measure.
Elijah smiled grimly, "Round two, then?"
A fierce glint appeared in Holland's eye, "Of course, my lord."
Results:
Elijah approaches Master in sword fighting (greatsword)
Holland approaches Expert in sword fighting (longsword)