Post by The Stranger on Jul 13, 2008 16:32:47 GMT -5
The army had been marching for weeks, though he was not tired. Men were complaining left and right, as their rations were low, and their march was hard. Galahad was lucky enough to have a horse at all, though it was an old one, and could do no more than a trot.
They had stopped to rest at midday, eating what stew the army provided and a chunk of hard bread. He did not know anybody here, and nobody knew him. He was sent as an escort to a messenger between the Royal Army and the Mander's and in the confusion, ended up in the Mander's army. He did not complain, for it was really the same. Nobody knew him there, and nobody knew him here. Outside of the village, he was just a farm boy.
The walk was long and perilous, as the cold seeped further into them as they went north and north. Wrapping what fur he had around him, Galahad took the chance he had to sleep, patting his horse on the side of it's neck, before hunching over for some shut-eye.
He stood before a pit, as the light shone at his back. Past the pit in front of him, in the distance, was a dark, looming shadow, that slowly moved forwards, as the light behind him dimmed. Below, inside the pit, lights flickered, as thought they fought to stay lit. Eventually, the shadow reached the pit, and began to seep inside, as tears fell from above.
Waking suddenly, Galahad found himself in sweats, as rain began to fall from above. It slowly turned to a storm, heading north, as rain and lightning fell upon them, as to slow their trek slightly. The storm carried out into the night, when they set up camp and ate their hard bread and cheese.
In the morning, Galahad woke earlier than he should have, as it was guaranteed a long time until they set out again. Strapping his two swords to his back, he stood up. His swords were the only thing of value he owned. He had made both the scabbards for them, as they were made of plain hard leather, cracking in places and held together by the pelts of deer. The swords themselves were different.
The first sword he had found was beautiful and shining, as it's double-edged blade had runes inscribed up the long flat side, in a language he could not read. The guard was of two golden wings stretching upwards, attached to a black-leather hilt, with an bird's head pommel.
The second sword was a little different. Broad and sharp, it was slightly tapered, looking slightly darker than the other blade, with forged slits here and there in the blade. The guard was plain black iron, and not fancy in any sort of way, along with it's hilt. They were both of the best quality, and Galahad had always feared he would have to sell them, if the farm came into bad luck.
Walking out across the camp, Galahad walked past a group of men who sat around a fire. As he walked past they heckled him, "Oi! Come hav'a seat," one said, obviously friendly.
Unaccustomed to the hospitality, Galahad hesitated a moment before joining what looked like knights around the fire. Each wore a coat of arms, though he knew nothing of them. Each person he saw was different, and all their behaviors were unique. He wondered who they were marching for then...
"Hullo," one of them said, as he took the seat, "You see, I was looking for some play this morning, and you happened to walk by," he said with a grin. "Good thing Dylan here called you over, or else I would have." Dylan didn't exactly approve of that statement, as his face darkened a bit at the comment. "So how about it, you want to play, boy?" the man said.
"I-I don't know what ye mean, ser," Galahad said, uncomfotable, suddenly.
"He must be a little thick," the man laughed, "I mean do you," pointing at Galahad, "Want to fight me," he said pointing at himself, the gesturing at his blunted sword. "Right now," he said, pointing at the ground. Dylan began to protest, but Galahad stepped up.
"Ser, I would fight you if I could, though I have no blunted blades," he said and began to walk away, but was stopped by a shout.
"That's no problem. I see two sticks we can use right here," the man said, picking up two sticks, his blunted sword in his belt, as he had a twisted smirk on his face.
"I fight with two swords--" Gal said, but was cut off.
"I know," the man said, tossing the sticks at Gal, before drawing his tourney blade and rushing at him. Galahad barely had time to catch the sticks and raise them before the man was upon him, laughing. Galahad raised his stick to block it, but it was not strong enough as it twisted in his hand, allowing the blade through as it slammed into his shoulder.
Absorbing the impact, Galahad rolled down and to the side, before coming up, teeth gritted, and attempting a strike at the man, though it was easily parried. Stepping backwards, Galahad protested slightly, though the man just laughed and continued on.
As the man came at him, Gal doubled his efforts to evade the attacks, with nothing more than the sticks. Eventually, an opening was seen, and Gal twisted one stick around the man's sword, and sent the other in at the man's temple, sending him reeling and dazed, though he did not stay so for long, as his laughter turned to shouting, coming at Gal even more ferociously than before.
Checking two blows, Gal crossed his sticks and caught a down cut that was aimed for his head, as it lodged itself into the wood itself. Pulling on the sticks, Gal made the man step forwards, before placing a kick in the man's chest, sending him to the ground, with one of the sticks too.
The cruel knight came back at him, after slowly rising, obviously wanting to inflict pain to compensate for his embarrassment. With only one stick, Gal prepared himself, knowing he no longer had any defense as the man charged, his sword high above his head. As the man was five paces away, Gal lunged forwards, as quickly as possible, and connected his stick to the man's throat, whacking it and sending the man to the ground coughing, and gasping for air.
Unsheathing both swords now from his back, Galahad walked forwards to the man doubled over on the ground, who looked up at him with large eyes, and a red face. "You do not deserve the title of a knight, for you are cruel, and dishonorable," Gal declared, swiftly cutting off the sleeves from the man's tunic.
Galahad advances from Noteworthy Sword to Expert Sword
Galahad advances from Apprentice Green Seer to Noteworthy Green Seer.
They had stopped to rest at midday, eating what stew the army provided and a chunk of hard bread. He did not know anybody here, and nobody knew him. He was sent as an escort to a messenger between the Royal Army and the Mander's and in the confusion, ended up in the Mander's army. He did not complain, for it was really the same. Nobody knew him there, and nobody knew him here. Outside of the village, he was just a farm boy.
The walk was long and perilous, as the cold seeped further into them as they went north and north. Wrapping what fur he had around him, Galahad took the chance he had to sleep, patting his horse on the side of it's neck, before hunching over for some shut-eye.
He stood before a pit, as the light shone at his back. Past the pit in front of him, in the distance, was a dark, looming shadow, that slowly moved forwards, as the light behind him dimmed. Below, inside the pit, lights flickered, as thought they fought to stay lit. Eventually, the shadow reached the pit, and began to seep inside, as tears fell from above.
Waking suddenly, Galahad found himself in sweats, as rain began to fall from above. It slowly turned to a storm, heading north, as rain and lightning fell upon them, as to slow their trek slightly. The storm carried out into the night, when they set up camp and ate their hard bread and cheese.
In the morning, Galahad woke earlier than he should have, as it was guaranteed a long time until they set out again. Strapping his two swords to his back, he stood up. His swords were the only thing of value he owned. He had made both the scabbards for them, as they were made of plain hard leather, cracking in places and held together by the pelts of deer. The swords themselves were different.
The first sword he had found was beautiful and shining, as it's double-edged blade had runes inscribed up the long flat side, in a language he could not read. The guard was of two golden wings stretching upwards, attached to a black-leather hilt, with an bird's head pommel.
The second sword was a little different. Broad and sharp, it was slightly tapered, looking slightly darker than the other blade, with forged slits here and there in the blade. The guard was plain black iron, and not fancy in any sort of way, along with it's hilt. They were both of the best quality, and Galahad had always feared he would have to sell them, if the farm came into bad luck.
Walking out across the camp, Galahad walked past a group of men who sat around a fire. As he walked past they heckled him, "Oi! Come hav'a seat," one said, obviously friendly.
Unaccustomed to the hospitality, Galahad hesitated a moment before joining what looked like knights around the fire. Each wore a coat of arms, though he knew nothing of them. Each person he saw was different, and all their behaviors were unique. He wondered who they were marching for then...
"Hullo," one of them said, as he took the seat, "You see, I was looking for some play this morning, and you happened to walk by," he said with a grin. "Good thing Dylan here called you over, or else I would have." Dylan didn't exactly approve of that statement, as his face darkened a bit at the comment. "So how about it, you want to play, boy?" the man said.
"I-I don't know what ye mean, ser," Galahad said, uncomfotable, suddenly.
"He must be a little thick," the man laughed, "I mean do you," pointing at Galahad, "Want to fight me," he said pointing at himself, the gesturing at his blunted sword. "Right now," he said, pointing at the ground. Dylan began to protest, but Galahad stepped up.
"Ser, I would fight you if I could, though I have no blunted blades," he said and began to walk away, but was stopped by a shout.
"That's no problem. I see two sticks we can use right here," the man said, picking up two sticks, his blunted sword in his belt, as he had a twisted smirk on his face.
"I fight with two swords--" Gal said, but was cut off.
"I know," the man said, tossing the sticks at Gal, before drawing his tourney blade and rushing at him. Galahad barely had time to catch the sticks and raise them before the man was upon him, laughing. Galahad raised his stick to block it, but it was not strong enough as it twisted in his hand, allowing the blade through as it slammed into his shoulder.
Absorbing the impact, Galahad rolled down and to the side, before coming up, teeth gritted, and attempting a strike at the man, though it was easily parried. Stepping backwards, Galahad protested slightly, though the man just laughed and continued on.
As the man came at him, Gal doubled his efforts to evade the attacks, with nothing more than the sticks. Eventually, an opening was seen, and Gal twisted one stick around the man's sword, and sent the other in at the man's temple, sending him reeling and dazed, though he did not stay so for long, as his laughter turned to shouting, coming at Gal even more ferociously than before.
Checking two blows, Gal crossed his sticks and caught a down cut that was aimed for his head, as it lodged itself into the wood itself. Pulling on the sticks, Gal made the man step forwards, before placing a kick in the man's chest, sending him to the ground, with one of the sticks too.
The cruel knight came back at him, after slowly rising, obviously wanting to inflict pain to compensate for his embarrassment. With only one stick, Gal prepared himself, knowing he no longer had any defense as the man charged, his sword high above his head. As the man was five paces away, Gal lunged forwards, as quickly as possible, and connected his stick to the man's throat, whacking it and sending the man to the ground coughing, and gasping for air.
Unsheathing both swords now from his back, Galahad walked forwards to the man doubled over on the ground, who looked up at him with large eyes, and a red face. "You do not deserve the title of a knight, for you are cruel, and dishonorable," Gal declared, swiftly cutting off the sleeves from the man's tunic.
Galahad advances from Noteworthy Sword to Expert Sword
Galahad advances from Apprentice Green Seer to Noteworthy Green Seer.