Summer 513th, 77th of summer.
Kreig was at the pits today, to say he was bored out of his mind was a bit of an undestarement. As repute of him fighting with Raz and at least putting up a descent fight, even getting a good blow in, was now common knowledge amongst the pit goers. Some were interested in giving him matches.... some just kept away from him however, the fact he could keep up with the Myrian in hand to hand discouraged them from attempting so. Kreig didn't pay much to those whom refused a battle with him or didn't challenge him in return.
The problem came from those who did challenge him; They simply weren't challenging in a one on one fight and thise who did and managed to defeat only increased his reputation more, and he had the feeling that if he took on more than one opponent... and perhaps won, that he'd have even less challengers. No, anything more than a spar and they'd just deny him....
which is why Kreig decided to take one of the blunt edged weapons hanging from the racks 'They know me as a brawler, not a swordsman.... perhaps they'll let their apprehension for a fight drop' Kreig hoped, despite his modest improvement his skill with the weapon it didn't reached the same level as knights who graduated from squirehood.
His hand ran against the blunt edge of the sword as he leaned against a wall, noting that the blade was obviously never meant to kill as even its tip was squared off. However, that didn't mean it could not kill....even blunt weaponry were lethal, they could bruise and cause concussions at the lightest, but at worst they could break bones, cause internal bleeding and even the blunted tip could still stab if enough force was applied or the target was soft enough.
It was odd really, he supposed his history of using many things as impromptu weaponry caused him to see the same in things whose status as weapons should have been taken away. It reminded him of the more mundane items in life and of how they could be weaponized as well; Sand or dirt could be thrown at someones face or eyes, blinding them and stunning them to get a free and likeky devestating hit in 'Petch, even if they block it with their arm I could probably get a hit in, not like they'll see me in the tick they block the dust' There was also wine bottles and chair legs, both could be used as clubs, gods know he'd seen that back in Sunberth, and if the wine bottle did break you’d still have a weapon which would become more lethal. Even utensils such as forks or spoons could kill, just aim for the eyes or the neck and someone will have a very bad day.
He sighed as he recalled all that, closing his eyes and shaking his head. He then realized that because most in Syliras aren't Sunberth scum, he would feel guilt if he ever fought like a brawler should... and was sadden because he felt like he was constantly holding and he'd have to hold back even more if he just wanted a spar, he and Raz couldn't unleash against each other full force as well because they were friends; they weren't willing to break others bones and end the others life as a warrior.
He sighed as he pushed himself away from the wall, standing up straight and switching his sword grip to a backhanded one. He hoped he'd find someone whom he could battle, even if it was with a weapon he hadn’t trained nearly enough in its use ‘I suppose I’d have to mix in a bit of my brawling’ he chuckled, however if anyone had fought as long as Kreig had they’d only need the combat experience rather than the brawling skill.
It was then he saw the two people he hoped he’d not deal with, but oh so wanted to punch their faces in; Yargul and Ceryl. These two were the bane of rookies and novices everywhere, they were hecklers that didn’t mind throwing insults or taunting Squires and Novices who’ve just barely begun…. Often invoking the wrath of said squires and novices, who try to get petty payback from the duo, only to be given a rude awakening from the duo. Truth of the matter is; Yargul and Ceryl are skilled swordsman in their own right, oh certainly not masters or experts in the craft, but skilled enough that a new knight would be caught off guard if they ever challenged one of them to a battle with just a sword.
Yargul was the short, bald and fat one while Ceryl was the tall, thin and dumb one. They were the fighter’s pits, heckling was actually their second agenda as for most of the time they were here they actually trained diligently, which brings to mind a few sayings that dictate that appearances are deceiving… well except in Ceryl’s case, competent in a fight as he is….he’s just as dumb as he looks. Yargul was definitely the brains, however, and Ceryl tended to follow him around like a pup, a tall freakish looking pup.
Kreig sighed as he realized that the duo were his most likely partners for the day. As he made his way to them, Yargul quickly took notice of the brawler and he stiffened…. He knew well enough that Kreig was a skilled fighter and that even with a sword he’d likely be unable to beat him if the brawler fought bare, that was then he noticed the odd grip he used to hold the sword, in his eyes it looked sloppy and even to the fat bastard who was known for his rotund appearance and his tendency to drink a copious amount of alcohol it was undisciplined, which caused his eyes to furrow in confusion. Ceryl stopped heckling the current group they were annoying with their bad jokes as he noted the silence of his partner, turning to him to inquire the reason for it only to see Kreig himself. This caused him to tilt his head in confusion wondering what was to happen now.
x
Kreig was at the pits today, to say he was bored out of his mind was a bit of an undestarement. As repute of him fighting with Raz and at least putting up a descent fight, even getting a good blow in, was now common knowledge amongst the pit goers. Some were interested in giving him matches.... some just kept away from him however, the fact he could keep up with the Myrian in hand to hand discouraged them from attempting so. Kreig didn't pay much to those whom refused a battle with him or didn't challenge him in return.
The problem came from those who did challenge him; They simply weren't challenging in a one on one fight and thise who did and managed to defeat only increased his reputation more, and he had the feeling that if he took on more than one opponent... and perhaps won, that he'd have even less challengers. No, anything more than a spar and they'd just deny him....
which is why Kreig decided to take one of the blunt edged weapons hanging from the racks 'They know me as a brawler, not a swordsman.... perhaps they'll let their apprehension for a fight drop' Kreig hoped, despite his modest improvement his skill with the weapon it didn't reached the same level as knights who graduated from squirehood.
His hand ran against the blunt edge of the sword as he leaned against a wall, noting that the blade was obviously never meant to kill as even its tip was squared off. However, that didn't mean it could not kill....even blunt weaponry were lethal, they could bruise and cause concussions at the lightest, but at worst they could break bones, cause internal bleeding and even the blunted tip could still stab if enough force was applied or the target was soft enough.
It was odd really, he supposed his history of using many things as impromptu weaponry caused him to see the same in things whose status as weapons should have been taken away. It reminded him of the more mundane items in life and of how they could be weaponized as well; Sand or dirt could be thrown at someones face or eyes, blinding them and stunning them to get a free and likeky devestating hit in 'Petch, even if they block it with their arm I could probably get a hit in, not like they'll see me in the tick they block the dust' There was also wine bottles and chair legs, both could be used as clubs, gods know he'd seen that back in Sunberth, and if the wine bottle did break you’d still have a weapon which would become more lethal. Even utensils such as forks or spoons could kill, just aim for the eyes or the neck and someone will have a very bad day.
He sighed as he recalled all that, closing his eyes and shaking his head. He then realized that because most in Syliras aren't Sunberth scum, he would feel guilt if he ever fought like a brawler should... and was sadden because he felt like he was constantly holding and he'd have to hold back even more if he just wanted a spar, he and Raz couldn't unleash against each other full force as well because they were friends; they weren't willing to break others bones and end the others life as a warrior.
He sighed as he pushed himself away from the wall, standing up straight and switching his sword grip to a backhanded one. He hoped he'd find someone whom he could battle, even if it was with a weapon he hadn’t trained nearly enough in its use ‘I suppose I’d have to mix in a bit of my brawling’ he chuckled, however if anyone had fought as long as Kreig had they’d only need the combat experience rather than the brawling skill.
It was then he saw the two people he hoped he’d not deal with, but oh so wanted to punch their faces in; Yargul and Ceryl. These two were the bane of rookies and novices everywhere, they were hecklers that didn’t mind throwing insults or taunting Squires and Novices who’ve just barely begun…. Often invoking the wrath of said squires and novices, who try to get petty payback from the duo, only to be given a rude awakening from the duo. Truth of the matter is; Yargul and Ceryl are skilled swordsman in their own right, oh certainly not masters or experts in the craft, but skilled enough that a new knight would be caught off guard if they ever challenged one of them to a battle with just a sword.
Yargul was the short, bald and fat one while Ceryl was the tall, thin and dumb one. They were the fighter’s pits, heckling was actually their second agenda as for most of the time they were here they actually trained diligently, which brings to mind a few sayings that dictate that appearances are deceiving… well except in Ceryl’s case, competent in a fight as he is….he’s just as dumb as he looks. Yargul was definitely the brains, however, and Ceryl tended to follow him around like a pup, a tall freakish looking pup.
Kreig sighed as he realized that the duo were his most likely partners for the day. As he made his way to them, Yargul quickly took notice of the brawler and he stiffened…. He knew well enough that Kreig was a skilled fighter and that even with a sword he’d likely be unable to beat him if the brawler fought bare, that was then he noticed the odd grip he used to hold the sword, in his eyes it looked sloppy and even to the fat bastard who was known for his rotund appearance and his tendency to drink a copious amount of alcohol it was undisciplined, which caused his eyes to furrow in confusion. Ceryl stopped heckling the current group they were annoying with their bad jokes as he noted the silence of his partner, turning to him to inquire the reason for it only to see Kreig himself. This caused him to tilt his head in confusion wondering what was to happen now.
x
