Post by The Stranger on Jun 4, 2008 12:06:28 GMT -5
Brandon cursed as the bolt hit him in the shoulder; he spun around with the impact and tried to ignite the lamp oil under the table. Again he cursed as his magic failed him. The wound the crossbow had given him made it hard to wield his sword properly and after a valiant attempt to defend himself a sword snuck past his guard to cut him with a gash on the same shoulder. He was bleeding heavily now and as he again tried to defend himself he again began to buckle but Ser Neville stepped in to take a blow as he had for the rest of the group. Neville was standing dead on his feet. Patrek yelled something but he couldn’t hear a word. Then the gold cloaks came in and they gave away their weapons without a fuss, “Thank you for the rescue” Brandon said and then the world became black.
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Brandon stood near Aranya as the melee started, nearly a hundred people attended the contest, and Brandon felt out of place among all the knights. He had heard that people could be killed in such contests. That never seemed to happen in Braavos. The Bravos usually just gave their opponents long thin gashes and it was never deadly unless someone was really stupid. No wonder people died in the chaos of a melee, duels were orderly. Brandon nearly cursed as the melee had started.
Ducking and weaving his way forward Brandon tried to get to the opponents flag, being pushed backwards more than gaining ground. Then a man with a green oak on his breastplate was in front of him swinging his sword. Brandon just managed to parry and the Greenoak continued to press him backwards. After he had gotten new bruises to his shoulders, Brandon deflected a blow and kicked at Greenoaks leg causing him to stumble a bit. He took advantage of that and pressed the man backwards. Before finally Greenoak made a sloppy parry and the blunted sword crashed against his arm, likely broken though Brandon wouldn’t have noticed that. He then finished the man with a blow to the stomach making him gasp and fall down. Brandon didn’t notice the man hitting him down to the ground from behind until it was too late.
He rolled to the left as snow exploded in a cloud where he had just fallen down. He managed to get in a crouch and parry the next swing though it made him loose balance and he had to dodge again to evade the next blow. The Northman fought with a ferocity that Brandon couldn’t match, it was all he could do to keep the man’s sword away from his person, though he failed more often than not. After an overly long sweep from the man, Brandon stepped inside his guard trying to knock the man on his helmet with the hilt off his sword. He only managed to glance the helmet though and the northman countered with a hard swing with his sword making Brandon’s side hurt. Brandon then swung his hard down at the hip of the Lord Dustin, and smiled in relief that a man had called out Lord Dustin’s name slightly angry and rushed at him allowing Brandon to slip away.
Then he saw his cousin Darien across the field standing over another man’s unconscious body and he went for him. Their swords swung in the air as they parried, riposted, deflected and countered. Brandon arms were beginning to get heavy and his fingers jolted at every strike. His hips felt like lead by the stinging blows he had received, and sweat poured down his face despite the cold winter. Darien looked more fresh however if the smile on his face was anything to go by. Their swords met again and stayed still for a slight moment before Darien twisted and sent the sword out of his hands before knocking him in the stomach. Brandon met the cold ground breathless.
Results:
Brandon improves towards master sword
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Brandon stood near Aranya as the melee started, nearly a hundred people attended the contest, and Brandon felt out of place among all the knights. He had heard that people could be killed in such contests. That never seemed to happen in Braavos. The Bravos usually just gave their opponents long thin gashes and it was never deadly unless someone was really stupid. No wonder people died in the chaos of a melee, duels were orderly. Brandon nearly cursed as the melee had started.
Ducking and weaving his way forward Brandon tried to get to the opponents flag, being pushed backwards more than gaining ground. Then a man with a green oak on his breastplate was in front of him swinging his sword. Brandon just managed to parry and the Greenoak continued to press him backwards. After he had gotten new bruises to his shoulders, Brandon deflected a blow and kicked at Greenoaks leg causing him to stumble a bit. He took advantage of that and pressed the man backwards. Before finally Greenoak made a sloppy parry and the blunted sword crashed against his arm, likely broken though Brandon wouldn’t have noticed that. He then finished the man with a blow to the stomach making him gasp and fall down. Brandon didn’t notice the man hitting him down to the ground from behind until it was too late.
He rolled to the left as snow exploded in a cloud where he had just fallen down. He managed to get in a crouch and parry the next swing though it made him loose balance and he had to dodge again to evade the next blow. The Northman fought with a ferocity that Brandon couldn’t match, it was all he could do to keep the man’s sword away from his person, though he failed more often than not. After an overly long sweep from the man, Brandon stepped inside his guard trying to knock the man on his helmet with the hilt off his sword. He only managed to glance the helmet though and the northman countered with a hard swing with his sword making Brandon’s side hurt. Brandon then swung his hard down at the hip of the Lord Dustin, and smiled in relief that a man had called out Lord Dustin’s name slightly angry and rushed at him allowing Brandon to slip away.
Then he saw his cousin Darien across the field standing over another man’s unconscious body and he went for him. Their swords swung in the air as they parried, riposted, deflected and countered. Brandon arms were beginning to get heavy and his fingers jolted at every strike. His hips felt like lead by the stinging blows he had received, and sweat poured down his face despite the cold winter. Darien looked more fresh however if the smile on his face was anything to go by. Their swords met again and stayed still for a slight moment before Darien twisted and sent the sword out of his hands before knocking him in the stomach. Brandon met the cold ground breathless.
Results:
Brandon improves towards master sword