Post by Horas on Dec 12, 2008 19:53:11 GMT -5
The hammer flew like a meteor, smashing with such brute force into Ser Lewys' kite shield that it sent him crashing into the sand. Edwyn fell into a crouch, carried earthward by the momentum of his blow, but caught himself with a steady, lobstered hand. With a momentarily lapse in Lord Belmore's assault, the young Waxley was able to quickly spring to his feet, and deal and whirling blow high in his foe's ribcage, the blunted end of his blade crunching into the exposed chainmail with a wet, meaty smack.
Edwyn sucks in air sharply through clenched teeth, and shoved down the point of Waxley's blade into the dirt with his gauntlet. Before Ser Lewys could wrench it free, a second mailed fist drove handily into his gut, driving the wind out of the Vale knight and sending him reeling. The hammer was alive in Edwyn's hands again, bashing against his foe's shield one, two, three times, leaving a deeper crater in the hardened steel with each impact.
Numbness wracked the already sore shield arm of Lewys. As the fourth hammerblow flew at him by the hands of Edwyn Belmore, Ser Waxley desperatly swung his kite shield before him in a wide arc, deflecting the warhammer and sending it pounding into the sand with a hollow thump. The knight sprung to his feet and readied his sword, only to find a plate mailed gauntlet swinging for his face. The half helm he wore managed to protect Lewys from most of the blow, but the punch still rung the bats from his belfry.
Lord Belmore seized his opportunity by grasping his foe's wrist and twisting the sword from his grasp.
An elbow slammed into Ser Lewys' chest, followed by a brutal wrist striking him in the neck. The Waxley collapsed to the earth. Disarmed and with Edwyn's armored fists pummeling his lightly armored torso and holding him to the ground, Ser Lewys finally croaked out a raspy “Yield!”
Edwyn nodded soberly as he could, barely restraining the wide grin from leaping onto his face. “What happened to that knight who could holdfast through any blow and have me down before I could blink?” he chuckled, helping his former squire to his feet. “You've been lacking in your practice.”
Lewys climbed to his feet sorely, running a tongue along his teeth and coming up with the taste of blood. “Been busy, Edwyn,” he said, with a smaller smirk than the victor opposite him wore. “Can't hardly blame a man who's been working hard to find you the information you want.”
The Blackwater Rush flowed swiftly past them, as swiftly as the Lord Belmore raised his brow. Edwyn had never been one for training in a yard. Most of the men there only used it as a grounds strut show off, and brag. When in the rare spirit to don his mail and spar, The Lord of Strongsong preferred the solitude of the wilderness, the reason for why the had ridden a few miles outside of King's Landing to train on the shore of the dark, rushing waters. Had it been any other place, Edwyn would have scolded the young Waxley, but their solitude gave him pause.
“What have you been doing, Lewys?” he demanded as sternly as he could manage, the effect lost behind the plain curiosity and excitement on his face.
Ser Lewys smirked as he sauntered over to his mount, and began to idly dig through his saddlebag. “Oh, this 'n that. A little writings, all,” he said with a parchment rolled in his hands. With smug look spread across his face, he handed to scroll to Edwyn, who unfurled it immediately.
The thing was vague, several details left blank throughout the letter, but as far as Lord Belmore could tell, it was a document announcing the seizure of contraband and cargo by the order of some high lord. There were no sigils or seals affixed, and no signatures, and even the name of the supposed criminal was left blank, but in every other regard, in appeared to be an authentically issued order to the unwary eye.
Edwyn looked to Lewys, his brow knit. “What is this?”
“Just a bit of leverage,” the knight answered, with a chuckle. He took the parchment from the lord's hands and rolled it up into a tight scroll. “She'll be prettier when I've got the details.” After slipping it back into his saddlebag, Ser Lewys slung his shield onto his back, and retrieved his fallen sword before climbing into the saddle.
Edwyn shook his head disapprovingly, though not without a grin still on his lips “Lewys, you are in for a world of hurt if you get-” he began to say, before Waxley cut him off.
“You know me, Edwyn,” he said as took the reigns into his hands, returning the grin. “I don't get caught.”
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Lord Edwyn Belmore advances to Expert Warhammer
Lord Edwyn Belmore advanced to Noteworthy Fistfighting
Ser Lewys Waxley advances to Expert Swordplay
Ser Lewys Waxley advances to Novice Forgery
Edwyn sucks in air sharply through clenched teeth, and shoved down the point of Waxley's blade into the dirt with his gauntlet. Before Ser Lewys could wrench it free, a second mailed fist drove handily into his gut, driving the wind out of the Vale knight and sending him reeling. The hammer was alive in Edwyn's hands again, bashing against his foe's shield one, two, three times, leaving a deeper crater in the hardened steel with each impact.
Numbness wracked the already sore shield arm of Lewys. As the fourth hammerblow flew at him by the hands of Edwyn Belmore, Ser Waxley desperatly swung his kite shield before him in a wide arc, deflecting the warhammer and sending it pounding into the sand with a hollow thump. The knight sprung to his feet and readied his sword, only to find a plate mailed gauntlet swinging for his face. The half helm he wore managed to protect Lewys from most of the blow, but the punch still rung the bats from his belfry.
Lord Belmore seized his opportunity by grasping his foe's wrist and twisting the sword from his grasp.
An elbow slammed into Ser Lewys' chest, followed by a brutal wrist striking him in the neck. The Waxley collapsed to the earth. Disarmed and with Edwyn's armored fists pummeling his lightly armored torso and holding him to the ground, Ser Lewys finally croaked out a raspy “Yield!”
Edwyn nodded soberly as he could, barely restraining the wide grin from leaping onto his face. “What happened to that knight who could holdfast through any blow and have me down before I could blink?” he chuckled, helping his former squire to his feet. “You've been lacking in your practice.”
Lewys climbed to his feet sorely, running a tongue along his teeth and coming up with the taste of blood. “Been busy, Edwyn,” he said, with a smaller smirk than the victor opposite him wore. “Can't hardly blame a man who's been working hard to find you the information you want.”
The Blackwater Rush flowed swiftly past them, as swiftly as the Lord Belmore raised his brow. Edwyn had never been one for training in a yard. Most of the men there only used it as a grounds strut show off, and brag. When in the rare spirit to don his mail and spar, The Lord of Strongsong preferred the solitude of the wilderness, the reason for why the had ridden a few miles outside of King's Landing to train on the shore of the dark, rushing waters. Had it been any other place, Edwyn would have scolded the young Waxley, but their solitude gave him pause.
“What have you been doing, Lewys?” he demanded as sternly as he could manage, the effect lost behind the plain curiosity and excitement on his face.
Ser Lewys smirked as he sauntered over to his mount, and began to idly dig through his saddlebag. “Oh, this 'n that. A little writings, all,” he said with a parchment rolled in his hands. With smug look spread across his face, he handed to scroll to Edwyn, who unfurled it immediately.
The thing was vague, several details left blank throughout the letter, but as far as Lord Belmore could tell, it was a document announcing the seizure of contraband and cargo by the order of some high lord. There were no sigils or seals affixed, and no signatures, and even the name of the supposed criminal was left blank, but in every other regard, in appeared to be an authentically issued order to the unwary eye.
Edwyn looked to Lewys, his brow knit. “What is this?”
“Just a bit of leverage,” the knight answered, with a chuckle. He took the parchment from the lord's hands and rolled it up into a tight scroll. “She'll be prettier when I've got the details.” After slipping it back into his saddlebag, Ser Lewys slung his shield onto his back, and retrieved his fallen sword before climbing into the saddle.
Edwyn shook his head disapprovingly, though not without a grin still on his lips “Lewys, you are in for a world of hurt if you get-” he began to say, before Waxley cut him off.
“You know me, Edwyn,” he said as took the reigns into his hands, returning the grin. “I don't get caught.”
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Lord Edwyn Belmore advances to Expert Warhammer
Lord Edwyn Belmore advanced to Noteworthy Fistfighting
Ser Lewys Waxley advances to Expert Swordplay
Ser Lewys Waxley advances to Novice Forgery