Post by The Stranger on Jun 30, 2008 1:23:07 GMT -5
Aranya was practicing with the sword in a courtyard of the Red Keep, sparring against three King’s Men. She fought with dexterity and shrewd cunning, with a strategy and style that were all her own. It was an aggressive way of fighting, one that not only relied on force and speed but also a mastery of balance and a certain taunting and confident manner. She fought three fights, and realized that she had found her form, finally. None of them could beat her now without hard effort. Aranya had recovered quickly from her pregnancy a month ago. She blocked and parried their thrusts coolly, and knocked them down after a minute. Feeling unchallenged, she called on them fight her four at a time. This time it was longer, but not by much. Five at a time. She was sweating and panting when it was done, but they were all disarmed. Six at a time. This time, with Aranya tiring and the new additions fresh, she found the fight exceptionally hard, but her blood sang as she whirled and thrust with her long spear, hitting with her shield. She was swifter than them, and it showed in the fight. After a long battle, she managed to knock every one of them down.
“Good job, boys,” she panted, sitting down and sucking water from a waterskin, letting it dribble down her chin and throat.
She bathed and slept for a while, before resuming practice with another training sword. “Tommen,” she called, seeing her sister’s cousin in the yard. “I’m in the mood to spar.”
“Your spear against mine, Aranya?” he raised an eyebrow.
“No,” she grinned. “My sword against your spear.”
“Are you sure?” he looked concerned, lifting a training spear.
“Oh yes,” she said, moving forward. “It’s time I got it back.”
Their blunt weapons met with a resounding clash of steel of steel. They disengaged quickly and circled, looking for an opening. Neither gave way, and the first few spars were futile. Aranya studied Tommen’s fighting style, looking for a way to break through, while simultaneously maintaining a strong defense.
He gained the upper hand first, and pushed her back, laying down blow after blow. Shit, Aranya thought, struggling to find her footing and block his blows. I’ve neglected this for too long. She switched direction, and it was a clever move that momentarily threw him off. And then she attacked to regain her ground.
Before long, they were both bathed in sweat. The hilt of Aranya’s longsword was growing slick from her sweaty grip, and her body was growing sore and aching. Especially her arms. But Aranya fought with hard determination. Her breath came hard.
“Are you sure you’re…” Tommen began but Aranya merely shook her head impatiently.
He came at her in a furious, deadly assault. Their steel rang together, a loud clash of metal. They circled, straining, then parried and thrust again, both fighting not to yield ground. Aranya danced back as Tommen hit hard, then drove him almost to the edge of the yard with a series of short blows. He thrust her away hard and Aranya almost lost balance. He swung at her, but Aranya dodged the blow with quick, athletic grace. She struck at him again, but Tommen met blow with blow.
The fight went on, with no sign of letting up. Aranya tasted her own salty perspiration, felt it blinding her vision as it dripped over her lids. Finally she sensed him weakening for a split second, and attacked. Her assault came fierce and fast, and suddenly it was Tommen who was scrambling for ground. Nicks and bruises appeared. Finally, Aranya knocked him off his feet, and he landed on his backside.
“Seven hells,” Tommen panted. “You haven’t lost your skill.”
“I did,” Aranya admitted, helping him up and breathing just as hard. “But my mind remembers what to do, even if my body needs a bit of coaxing.”
Result:
- Aranya gains Expert in Swordfighting
“Good job, boys,” she panted, sitting down and sucking water from a waterskin, letting it dribble down her chin and throat.
She bathed and slept for a while, before resuming practice with another training sword. “Tommen,” she called, seeing her sister’s cousin in the yard. “I’m in the mood to spar.”
“Your spear against mine, Aranya?” he raised an eyebrow.
“No,” she grinned. “My sword against your spear.”
“Are you sure?” he looked concerned, lifting a training spear.
“Oh yes,” she said, moving forward. “It’s time I got it back.”
Their blunt weapons met with a resounding clash of steel of steel. They disengaged quickly and circled, looking for an opening. Neither gave way, and the first few spars were futile. Aranya studied Tommen’s fighting style, looking for a way to break through, while simultaneously maintaining a strong defense.
He gained the upper hand first, and pushed her back, laying down blow after blow. Shit, Aranya thought, struggling to find her footing and block his blows. I’ve neglected this for too long. She switched direction, and it was a clever move that momentarily threw him off. And then she attacked to regain her ground.
Before long, they were both bathed in sweat. The hilt of Aranya’s longsword was growing slick from her sweaty grip, and her body was growing sore and aching. Especially her arms. But Aranya fought with hard determination. Her breath came hard.
“Are you sure you’re…” Tommen began but Aranya merely shook her head impatiently.
He came at her in a furious, deadly assault. Their steel rang together, a loud clash of metal. They circled, straining, then parried and thrust again, both fighting not to yield ground. Aranya danced back as Tommen hit hard, then drove him almost to the edge of the yard with a series of short blows. He thrust her away hard and Aranya almost lost balance. He swung at her, but Aranya dodged the blow with quick, athletic grace. She struck at him again, but Tommen met blow with blow.
The fight went on, with no sign of letting up. Aranya tasted her own salty perspiration, felt it blinding her vision as it dripped over her lids. Finally she sensed him weakening for a split second, and attacked. Her assault came fierce and fast, and suddenly it was Tommen who was scrambling for ground. Nicks and bruises appeared. Finally, Aranya knocked him off his feet, and he landed on his backside.
“Seven hells,” Tommen panted. “You haven’t lost your skill.”
“I did,” Aranya admitted, helping him up and breathing just as hard. “But my mind remembers what to do, even if my body needs a bit of coaxing.”
Result:
- Aranya gains Expert in Swordfighting