Post by Horas on Nov 12, 2008 16:52:13 GMT -5
Wencel sat within the command tent of the Dornish force in the Boneway, flicking through the journals of his late uncle, Quentin Fowler. His later events were well known and documented but Wencel was more interested in the earlier battles and skirmishes which shaped the man. He devoured the books eagerly, making small annotated comments in the margins as he did so, in an effort to understand and link the tactics and strategies he used in defeating his foes. Some were straightforward and well-known but there were one or two innovative moves which were buried far enough back in history that they could be used successfully today. He jotted down some manoeuvres and counters on a scrap of parchment and resolved to go through them with some of the lords under his command, to make sure they understand and could drill their men accordingly. He blinked as strong light came through the tent entrance as Robb Waters entered. His skin was red and peeling, though he’d lived here years he’d never been able to entirely become accustomed to the intensity of the sun in the deep deserts of Dorne, in part due to his unusual red hair, which marked him out like a beacon against the average dornishman.
“You going to stay in here all day?” he grunted irritably. “That’s nearly 3 days you’ve been brooding in here”
Wencel sighed and closed the journal, pinching the bridge of his nose with his thumb and index finger. “I’m not brooding, I’m studying. Lord Wyl has the respect of those serving him as his record as a general is long and worthy. Many of the lords here do not know me at all and some are wondering why Horas passed on command to me. I need to show them that I am worthy in my own right, and not because I am the nephew of the Stone Hawk. That is not enough, not nearly enough” he said grimly.
Robb grinned “The best way to do that is out there” he thumbed in the direction of the encampment outside. “Besides, every general needs to fight as well at some point and you don’t want those skills to get rusty”. He picked up Wencel’s spear and held it out to him. Wencel looked at him sourly, stood and received the spear from Robb. “I just think you’re bored and want an excuse to beat up on me” he replied.
“If you’re good enough, I won’t be able to, will I?” Robb replied with a toothy grin as he led him outside. Wencel blinked rapidly again as they exited and drew in a deep breath. The heat beat down like a hammer as he gazed around the fortified camp. In the distance, a glittering blue line and some smoke indicated the castle and port town of Wyl and to the west, the steep northern mountains rose up, creating a natural funnel for any force coming south. He followed Robb to one of the many training yards nearby and looked about as Robb shooed away a couple of dark-skinned dornish fighters from their sparring. They were beginning to attract a crowd as more and more of those nearby gathered round, seeking to get a glimpse of their general. Wencel walked into the circle, testing the sand beneath his feet for grip. Robb took a blunted bastard sword from the racks and sauntered in with a grin on his face, taking a few practice swipes before setting himself. With a nod, Wencel moved forward and the pair began to circle as the onlooker’s yelled encouragement. Wencel jabbed tentatively but this was deflected with contemptuous ease by Robb, who followed up with a high-low combination which forced Wencel back. He ducked and rolled to the right, bringing his spear up in a sweeping arc to the back of Robb’s legs but, used to Wencel’s method of fighting, Robb had already moved out of range. Wencel clambered back to his feet as Robb came in again slashing right to left and he dodged to the left and brought his knee up into his side. It was a stinging blow which drew a grunt of pain from Robb but he quickly retaliated with a glancing elbow to the side of the head which dazed Wencel momentarily as he backed off.
Robb swung a vicious blow at his legs as he followed up but Wencel leapt over the blow and hammered down with the butt of the sword on Robb’s wrist, causing it to spasm and the sword to skitter across the yard. This would normally have signalled the end of the contest, but Robb kicked out, catching Wencel in the back and sending him sprawling forward. Wencel rolled forward as Robb just missed with an elbow into the sand. He sprang to his feet and slammed the butt of his spear into Robb’s back as he sought to regain his sword. He quickly kicked the man onto his front and reversed the spear so that its point was at the man’s groin. “Yield?” he said, gasping for breath. “You’ll not want me to hit you here” he said with a grin. Robb scowled for a moment and then relaxed and roared with laughter. “Neither would the camp girls, milord. And I wouldn’t fancy your chances against them!” he chortled as Wencel helped him to his feet.
“See?” he continued, clapping the man on the back with enough strength to make him wince “Wasn’t that more fun than reading?” he laughed again and gingerly made his way off the yard
Results:
Lord Wencel Fowler improves from Expert to Master Battle
Lord Wencel Fowler improves towards Master Spear-fighting
Robb Waters improves towards Master Sword
Robb Waters improves from Apprentice to Noteworthy Unarmed Combat
“You going to stay in here all day?” he grunted irritably. “That’s nearly 3 days you’ve been brooding in here”
Wencel sighed and closed the journal, pinching the bridge of his nose with his thumb and index finger. “I’m not brooding, I’m studying. Lord Wyl has the respect of those serving him as his record as a general is long and worthy. Many of the lords here do not know me at all and some are wondering why Horas passed on command to me. I need to show them that I am worthy in my own right, and not because I am the nephew of the Stone Hawk. That is not enough, not nearly enough” he said grimly.
Robb grinned “The best way to do that is out there” he thumbed in the direction of the encampment outside. “Besides, every general needs to fight as well at some point and you don’t want those skills to get rusty”. He picked up Wencel’s spear and held it out to him. Wencel looked at him sourly, stood and received the spear from Robb. “I just think you’re bored and want an excuse to beat up on me” he replied.
“If you’re good enough, I won’t be able to, will I?” Robb replied with a toothy grin as he led him outside. Wencel blinked rapidly again as they exited and drew in a deep breath. The heat beat down like a hammer as he gazed around the fortified camp. In the distance, a glittering blue line and some smoke indicated the castle and port town of Wyl and to the west, the steep northern mountains rose up, creating a natural funnel for any force coming south. He followed Robb to one of the many training yards nearby and looked about as Robb shooed away a couple of dark-skinned dornish fighters from their sparring. They were beginning to attract a crowd as more and more of those nearby gathered round, seeking to get a glimpse of their general. Wencel walked into the circle, testing the sand beneath his feet for grip. Robb took a blunted bastard sword from the racks and sauntered in with a grin on his face, taking a few practice swipes before setting himself. With a nod, Wencel moved forward and the pair began to circle as the onlooker’s yelled encouragement. Wencel jabbed tentatively but this was deflected with contemptuous ease by Robb, who followed up with a high-low combination which forced Wencel back. He ducked and rolled to the right, bringing his spear up in a sweeping arc to the back of Robb’s legs but, used to Wencel’s method of fighting, Robb had already moved out of range. Wencel clambered back to his feet as Robb came in again slashing right to left and he dodged to the left and brought his knee up into his side. It was a stinging blow which drew a grunt of pain from Robb but he quickly retaliated with a glancing elbow to the side of the head which dazed Wencel momentarily as he backed off.
Robb swung a vicious blow at his legs as he followed up but Wencel leapt over the blow and hammered down with the butt of the sword on Robb’s wrist, causing it to spasm and the sword to skitter across the yard. This would normally have signalled the end of the contest, but Robb kicked out, catching Wencel in the back and sending him sprawling forward. Wencel rolled forward as Robb just missed with an elbow into the sand. He sprang to his feet and slammed the butt of his spear into Robb’s back as he sought to regain his sword. He quickly kicked the man onto his front and reversed the spear so that its point was at the man’s groin. “Yield?” he said, gasping for breath. “You’ll not want me to hit you here” he said with a grin. Robb scowled for a moment and then relaxed and roared with laughter. “Neither would the camp girls, milord. And I wouldn’t fancy your chances against them!” he chortled as Wencel helped him to his feet.
“See?” he continued, clapping the man on the back with enough strength to make him wince “Wasn’t that more fun than reading?” he laughed again and gingerly made his way off the yard
Results:
Lord Wencel Fowler improves from Expert to Master Battle
Lord Wencel Fowler improves towards Master Spear-fighting
Robb Waters improves towards Master Sword
Robb Waters improves from Apprentice to Noteworthy Unarmed Combat