by Sighard on December 19th, 2011, 1:54 am
Tch. . . a subtle click of his tongue against the frozen roof of his mouth rasped but a faint puff of air that spurted in a cloud and dissipated almost as quickly as it had come. He embraced the controlled thud of metal against metal, that feeling of harmonious mobility where the collision elicited results which catered to his aims and effectively disarmed his opponent. Sighard offered the falling weapon a cursory glance and jumped forth with a prominent step that pressed the pole arm deeper into the layers of snow with a sickening crunch. In practiced form he drew his blade closer to his side and raised his shield defensively upwards. This spar is over.
They were trained to recognize the universality of submission. A helpless raise of the palms or defeated countenance often conveyed the feelings of loss which followed such an occurrence as disarmament, and as such knights were taught to respond accordingly. In the event one did not exhibit these signs, such as Laurel so elegantly had poised, then it was natural, inborn instinct to continue, to drive forth until victory had been attained. The girl’s presumptions of a clever surprise were novel indeed, but they were stupid and sacrificial. Knights are better left alive, learn this.
A wild, animalistic approach was heralded by her rather heavy footfalls through the snow, a breaking of distance even the deafest of men could follow. Sighard accommodated this latch ditch effort appropriately, never losing composure, but rather adjusting his own footwork which was nimble and prepared to break inwards at the slightest of movements. Gingerly he bounced on the balls of his cold, wet feet and waited, his eyes pressed in observation in order that he might react to. . .
Now! He cut rapidly inwards at her approach, and his arm took the form of a whip, snapping low where she otherwise aimed high. His blade earned him the superior reach, and so accorded him more breathing room when dealing with her reckless charge. She’d not have the length to grasp hair or wrist by the time she felt the cutting edge on the side of her knee, where plate often connected at the joints and was a notoriously weaker area. “Back!” His shout synchronized with his blow and he urged submission with a stern countenance. Unnecessary injuries would be an unfortunate thing indeed.
