2nd of winter, 8th bell 19th chime.
Kreig needed to get some training done, that was a fact and thus the reason that before was one of the order's squires. He was young, 19 years of age, he stood roughtly at Kreig's height and his body was covered in the padded armor both adroned for this spar. Both he and Kreig sported identical armaments, a blunt longsword and a round shield.... their chosen weapons, their symbols of knighthood. Kreig didn't know the lad's name, on this snowy day he simply approached and asked "Hey, care for a spar?" And the lad simply obliged without hesiation.
Kreig took his position and looked at the lad. his longsword held firmly with his right and his shield raised before him like a wall against the world. The lad was a mirror in regard, taking up a near identical stance. The lad looked at Kreig just as intently as Kreig did he. It was as if both were awaiting for a command to start the battle.... or perhaps, in truth, the battle already begun. Eyes scanning for weakness, for that oppening that would bring them swift victory. Kreig grinned at that, yes, the battle did indeed already begin before it even crossed their minds. Kreig made the first move, his legs bent down then pushing forward as Kreig bashed his shield against that of the lad and to the lad's credit he stood form. He pushed back with equal force, as if trying to show he was stronger than the older gentlemen before him. But they were equal in that, roughly so.
Kreig brought up his sword and swung it down, trying to get at the lads exposed head, only for the metal of his blade to meet the mettle of the lad's and then roughly pushed back at the same time. This left Kreig in one regard, he couldn't hope to bring his shield up quickly nor bring his sword back down. So he simply jumped back, letting the lad's blade miss. Kreig then moved forward once more, he couldn't leave a chance for the lad to attack, swinging his sword at the lad's shin only to be stopped by the lad's shield who expertly deflected the blade and raised his own sword for a downward swing.
Krieg clumsily brought his own shield up, blocking the lads strike but only just, he didn't have the same skill as the lad '...But I do have actual combat experiacnce' He told himself, it was the one true advantage he had currently, but that didn't help him now as the lad followed up his failed strike with a shield bash. Kreig gritted, he could feel the force travelling through his arm but he stood firm, he wouldn't be up showed.... nor would he let the battle end so soon, it was just too fun currently to do that.
Mustering up what strength he had, he pushed the lads shield away and thrust his blade at the lad's abdomen. But again, the lad was no slouch, he stepped to the right... supposedly Kreig's vulnerable side after that thrust and swung his sword from left to right. But to his surprise, Kreig countered, not with his sword or shield...but with his shoulder, colliding with his chest, the lad fell on his back and looked up at Kreig. He saw the sword being raised and coming for him, so he rolled to side, allowing to strike the winter earth rather than his padded body. He rolled a couple of more times away then stood up and looked at Kreig from the short distance he had made away from the Brawler.
"I gotta admit lad, you're a mighty fine warrior indeed" Kreig let out a feral smile, the lad simply nodded. There was no time to let such compliments get to his head. This was a fight and he planned on winning it, especially since the man before him already made his move as he quickly closed the difference and violently swung his blade down. The squire raised the blade horizontally and blocked the sword with the flat of the blade, the sound of steel against steel rang through the ears and for what felt like the umpteenth time, their shields bashed against one another and the duo contested each other in another contest of strength.
They pushed against one another, their shields locked in place till one of them yields or makes an attack with their blades. They were like animals, trying to assert dominance over one another, trying to set the pecking order in the pack. That didn't truly matter currently, this wasn't about who was better, it was about winning.... they weren't going to follow the commands of the other, in their minds, this was a simple battle of survival.
Kreig knew that every spar should be like this, as if it were to the death.... as if survival was the only thing that mattered, he knew it so well that none of the order told him that. They could see he was experienced in battle and to tell him would be an insult, it would only be if he messed up severely that he would be reminded, it would only be then would he merit such an insult.
Their arm's quickly grew tired, tired of holding the shields and tired of pushing against another. Soon one would falter, becoming not just a contest of strength but also a contest of endurance. Within the next few ticks the victor of one battle, and perhaps the war, would be decided. It was short yet brutal battle, exactly as it should be, exactly as how battle was meant to be..... it was like beauty, quick and fleeting. Battle itself was not like war, war was like a painting, it would last a very long time....or at least feel like it.
Kreig's arm faltered, just a bit, but it was enough for the lad to push back and knock Kreig's shield away. This left Kreig seemingly wide open for the lad's thrust. Yes...one battler had been won... Kreig let go of his sword and shield, his left hand curled into a fist and his arm swung in a hooking motion. The flat of the blade was struck just near the tip, redirecting the blade while Kreig simultaniously move to side of it and forward. The lad's eyes widened as he an open right palm dart toward his face....pushing him back. He could feel the other hand grasping the grip of his own sword, a mighty pull and the lad's own fall forcing him to let go of the weapon as he lay flat on his back. Kreig kneeled, his knee on the lads chest and the edge of the blunt blade pressed against the squire's throat.
"Good fight lad, you certainly are better then me with a sword and shield" Kreig's feral grin frew ever so wider "....I'm just a better fighter, s'all there is to it"
x
Kreig needed to get some training done, that was a fact and thus the reason that before was one of the order's squires. He was young, 19 years of age, he stood roughtly at Kreig's height and his body was covered in the padded armor both adroned for this spar. Both he and Kreig sported identical armaments, a blunt longsword and a round shield.... their chosen weapons, their symbols of knighthood. Kreig didn't know the lad's name, on this snowy day he simply approached and asked "Hey, care for a spar?" And the lad simply obliged without hesiation.
Kreig took his position and looked at the lad. his longsword held firmly with his right and his shield raised before him like a wall against the world. The lad was a mirror in regard, taking up a near identical stance. The lad looked at Kreig just as intently as Kreig did he. It was as if both were awaiting for a command to start the battle.... or perhaps, in truth, the battle already begun. Eyes scanning for weakness, for that oppening that would bring them swift victory. Kreig grinned at that, yes, the battle did indeed already begin before it even crossed their minds. Kreig made the first move, his legs bent down then pushing forward as Kreig bashed his shield against that of the lad and to the lad's credit he stood form. He pushed back with equal force, as if trying to show he was stronger than the older gentlemen before him. But they were equal in that, roughly so.
Kreig brought up his sword and swung it down, trying to get at the lads exposed head, only for the metal of his blade to meet the mettle of the lad's and then roughly pushed back at the same time. This left Kreig in one regard, he couldn't hope to bring his shield up quickly nor bring his sword back down. So he simply jumped back, letting the lad's blade miss. Kreig then moved forward once more, he couldn't leave a chance for the lad to attack, swinging his sword at the lad's shin only to be stopped by the lad's shield who expertly deflected the blade and raised his own sword for a downward swing.
Krieg clumsily brought his own shield up, blocking the lads strike but only just, he didn't have the same skill as the lad '...But I do have actual combat experiacnce' He told himself, it was the one true advantage he had currently, but that didn't help him now as the lad followed up his failed strike with a shield bash. Kreig gritted, he could feel the force travelling through his arm but he stood firm, he wouldn't be up showed.... nor would he let the battle end so soon, it was just too fun currently to do that.
Mustering up what strength he had, he pushed the lads shield away and thrust his blade at the lad's abdomen. But again, the lad was no slouch, he stepped to the right... supposedly Kreig's vulnerable side after that thrust and swung his sword from left to right. But to his surprise, Kreig countered, not with his sword or shield...but with his shoulder, colliding with his chest, the lad fell on his back and looked up at Kreig. He saw the sword being raised and coming for him, so he rolled to side, allowing to strike the winter earth rather than his padded body. He rolled a couple of more times away then stood up and looked at Kreig from the short distance he had made away from the Brawler.
"I gotta admit lad, you're a mighty fine warrior indeed" Kreig let out a feral smile, the lad simply nodded. There was no time to let such compliments get to his head. This was a fight and he planned on winning it, especially since the man before him already made his move as he quickly closed the difference and violently swung his blade down. The squire raised the blade horizontally and blocked the sword with the flat of the blade, the sound of steel against steel rang through the ears and for what felt like the umpteenth time, their shields bashed against one another and the duo contested each other in another contest of strength.
They pushed against one another, their shields locked in place till one of them yields or makes an attack with their blades. They were like animals, trying to assert dominance over one another, trying to set the pecking order in the pack. That didn't truly matter currently, this wasn't about who was better, it was about winning.... they weren't going to follow the commands of the other, in their minds, this was a simple battle of survival.
Kreig knew that every spar should be like this, as if it were to the death.... as if survival was the only thing that mattered, he knew it so well that none of the order told him that. They could see he was experienced in battle and to tell him would be an insult, it would only be if he messed up severely that he would be reminded, it would only be then would he merit such an insult.
Their arm's quickly grew tired, tired of holding the shields and tired of pushing against another. Soon one would falter, becoming not just a contest of strength but also a contest of endurance. Within the next few ticks the victor of one battle, and perhaps the war, would be decided. It was short yet brutal battle, exactly as it should be, exactly as how battle was meant to be..... it was like beauty, quick and fleeting. Battle itself was not like war, war was like a painting, it would last a very long time....or at least feel like it.
Kreig's arm faltered, just a bit, but it was enough for the lad to push back and knock Kreig's shield away. This left Kreig seemingly wide open for the lad's thrust. Yes...one battler had been won... Kreig let go of his sword and shield, his left hand curled into a fist and his arm swung in a hooking motion. The flat of the blade was struck just near the tip, redirecting the blade while Kreig simultaniously move to side of it and forward. The lad's eyes widened as he an open right palm dart toward his face....pushing him back. He could feel the other hand grasping the grip of his own sword, a mighty pull and the lad's own fall forcing him to let go of the weapon as he lay flat on his back. Kreig kneeled, his knee on the lads chest and the edge of the blunt blade pressed against the squire's throat.
"Good fight lad, you certainly are better then me with a sword and shield" Kreig's feral grin frew ever so wider "....I'm just a better fighter, s'all there is to it"
x
