All or nothing! [Solo Training]

[Markus Andres]

27th of Spring 509 AV A hand came out of the darkness and touched his shoulder. Shaking him ungently. A swift arm pushed the hand away and the sleeping boy turned around and tried to continue his slumber. But out of the darkness a pair of hands shot out. Grabbing him hard and pulling him out of the bed bed. Holding him in the air in front of him. Markus was awake. The lack of firm ground beneath his feet had that effect. He almost kicked out instinctively. ’Get your gear.’ But he recognized the voice that was silently whispering to him. It was his master…. Then he kicked anyways. But before he hit the man, Markus was let go of, he fell a foot or two to the ground before falling on his rump. How dared that insane knight drag him from his bed like that, and then just toss him to the ground! That when the whiff got to him. Alcohol? A strong scent he had not picked up in his dazed state. Had his master been… drinking? Markus tilted his head confused. He had never seen his master drinking. Never taken him for a drinker. So why? ’Get your gear!’ Markus did not think of it anymore as he got dressed and grabbed his gear. Sword by his left side, shield on the arm just above. He had no armor in his room, sharing such a room with four people each having full armor stored would make no sense at all. But he followed his master out the door. Expecting him to have turned right to leave the place, but when he turned right, he felt a foot collide with his bum and send him in the direction. Markus stumbled. His right foot was misplaced and he fell forward. Instinctively he tugged his head in and rolled forward. His body rolling across the floor. Markus was perplexed. Why had his master done that? WHY? But he was more than perplexed. He was furious. He got to his feet again. His right hand was resting on the hilt of his blade as he spun around. Ready to draw and impale his master. But when he looked into those cold eyes, Markus saw something he had never seen. Sadness. But it was perhaps for a moment before it was replaced with anger. Both were much more emotion than Markus was used to seeing. ’Get going. On the double. Run.’ Markus paused. When his master mave a move, Markus felt the stinging hand across his cheek. Fueling his anger. But he stayed his blade and just turned and started to run. Wishing he was carrying the blade on his back. Much easier to run with it there. Markus just put one foot before the other and after half a chime, he was wondering why it was not getting any brighter. Sunlight was supposed to be visible at places. But nothing. Even doors that led to the outside showed no signs of daylight. But Markus ran on. Left hand on the hilt. Pushing the hilt down so the other end would not scrape against the floor as he ran. He started to wonder what time it was. Just past midnight? He had no idea. Only that it was definitely still night.

[Markus Andres]

Markus had no idea how long he had run for. He had passed the same corridors several times. The same guardposts several times. He considered himself quite fit, but this was really taking a toll on him. But he ran on. Didn’t care. His master wanted him to do this, and he had to admit, he would much rather be running than sparring with his master. One left him with sore muscles, the other left him with sore muscles and bruises and what not. One of the healers even said something about a concussion at one time. Not that Markus knew what that meant. ’Left’ Markus turned left at the next opportunity. Suddenly he was out in the open air. Running through the open areas of the city before the main gate. Markus ran on. Now certain that it was not day outside. His thighs were beginning to pain. His breath not as easy. But he continued. They passed the main gates. The guards getting a chuckle out of the poor squire being trained at such an odd hour. Markus feet were hurting. Running on stone was not pleasant in the long run. Even if he was barefoot. Now that they were leaving the city he opted to wear the boots he had brought. Would save him from the odd cuts and scrapes stones might cause on him. His master had had a horse waiting for him. Must have arranged it with the guards. His speed had decreased greatly. His body was sweating heavily. His left side was hurting with each breath, a side ache at its worst. His stomach was growling. His arms were tired. His feet were tired. Every single part of his body was tired. His left foot was hurting greatly. He must have gotten a blister. Said blister must have ruptured and torn half of his foot off, at least it felt that way. Every time he stopped to look at his master, he just received a shove and he started to run again. At some point, Markus just stopped. He was shoved, but he stumbled a little before stopping again. Another shove only sent him a couple of feet before he fell to the ground. ”No more.” He said, breathlessly. ’Draw your sword.’ Markus turned over, leaning on his right hand. Watching his master with amazement. He demanded a fight now? His master suddenly struck. Markus’ shield got in the way and Markus felt the power slam through the shield. Press it against him. That was when a jolt of energy when through his body. His master had taken him out there to kill him? Had he been such a terrible squire? He knew he had been slacking off lately. Not taking his duty as seriously. But really. Outright killing him? He kicked away with his painful feet. Backing away from his master. Creating some distance before getting up. He would not fight, instead he ran. Or tried to, for a foot kicked his back leg so it crossed behind his front leg. Tripping him up and he fell on to the ground. ’Draw your sword.’ Markus got on his knees and created some distance. No longer wanting to run. He spun around to face his master. Right hand drawing his blade as he did. Using the momemtum of his spin to strike at his master. But he felt so weak. His master blocked the strike with ease.

[Markus Andres]

A sideways counter swipe almost took Markus’ head off, but he managed to duck below it. In his fatigued state, he did not notice that the blade had the blunt side to Markus. It might have hurt, but hardly have killed Markus. Probably added another concussion to Markus. If he had seen it, he might have realized that this was training. This was not an honorable execution. Markus thrust his blade forward from his lowered position. Trying to get his master between the legs. It was blocked and deflected by his master’s shield. Had his blade always been this heavy? He could not defeat his master. Not even if he had not just run for what seemed like forever. There was no way. His master far outmaneouvred him. Far out performed him with his swordplay. His physical stature was far greater. Markus could not think of a way he could defeat the man. But if he wanted to live… He would have to. And Markus wanted to live… He really wanted to live. Markus backed off and away from his master. He had to use his brain. Had to use whatever skill his master did not know he had. He had to outsmart him. … Somehow. Markus turned to flee again. His right foot leading as he tried to run. As expected, his master did the same trick. Tried to trip him. Markus followed with the motion. His attempt to flee had been but a ruse. He spun around, shield leading meant for knocking aside his masters defense. Markus blade would be thrust into the miniscule gap this manouvre would create. It worked. Almost worked. The blade was thrust at his master, but the man had moved ever so slightly to the side. Causing Markus’ thrust to just pierce through the empty air. That was when he received a headbutt for his troubles. He stumbled back, but stayed on his feet. Forehead bleeding. That was when he saw in the distance. A sun rising. He had not noticed it had been getting lighter. Been too fatigued to even bother to notice. It was behind his master, so he should not have noticed. Not yet at least… Perhaps Markus could use the split second the sun dipped above the horisont to blind his master. Allow Markus to strike. Allow him to kill the man and escape… There was a horse he could use. With provisions. He had seen the saddle bags… Escape was a possibility. He could never go to Syliras again. Never see the castle again… But he could return to Zeltiva… To his family… Markus paused. Perhaps he would not go to Zeltiva. Perhaps he would rather head for that lawless city in the north. If he could ever find his way there. Either way. Syliras was not his home any more. Surprisingly, that fact shook him to the core and left nothing but a sad feeling of emptiness.

[Markus Andres]

That was thinking too far ahead. Markus’ left arm raised and he could feel the muscles in his arm cry out in pain as the sword slammed against the shield. It felt as if his arm would break. But it held. The shield held. His eyes kept on his master. He struck out with his right arm. His master raised his shield. Markus moved around his masters right side. Keeping the shield ready to protect him from any counter attacks. But none came. It surprised Markus quite a lot. His master just turned slowly and Markus sent a quick strike at his head. To get his shield up high. When he lowered it again. The sun ought to be directly in his eyes. That was when Markus had to strike. The perfect opportunity. His masters shield lowered slowly. But rather than getting blinded by the sun, his eyes just focused on Markus. Whose last plan had not worked. He swung out anyways, but the blade was knocked from his hand by the furious strike of his masters blade. His master struck from up high. Straight down at Markus. He tried to raise his shield to block the attack, but he was too slow. His masters blade struck down. Hitting his shoulder hard. Markus buckled and fell to his left knee. He was surprised that he was still alive. How? That strike ought to have cut right through him like a knife through butter. When he opened his eyes again he was looking at his master, who casually held his helmet like nothing extraordinary had transpired. Looking down at Markus. Holding out a weaponless hand. Somehow he had sheathed the blade. Markus grabbed the hand and was pulled to his feet. For a moment he thought his knees would give out from underneath him. But he managed to stay standing. Barely. His shoulders were slumped. His arms were on fire. Left shoulder felt like it was dislocated and broken… And on fire. He tried to move the arm. It did move. It also hurt, but it moved. That must mean that it wasn’t too badly injured. Right? He understood nothing. No. He understood less than nothing. ”What?” No response. ”WHAT THE PETCH IS GOING ON?” Still no response. ”… WHAT, SER?” ’Training. Your fighting as of late has been lacking. You had gotten lazy. Sloppy. Understand this, Andres. If you ever decide to do that again… This will not be practice. It will be reality. I do not have the time nor the patience to deal with anyone who does not give their best… understood?’ There was a long silence. ”Yes… ser, I understand.” He mumbled. ’Good.’

[Emblem]

Congratulations! You Get Glorious Experience! Markus Skills Running- 3 XP Shield- 2 XP Tactics- 2 XP Bastard Sword- 1 XP Lores Laziness Leads to Pain A Thought of Escape Comments : Sorry for the wait, had some internet issues. Anyway, nice sparring thread! Sorry I couldn't award to many points in the weapons department, but you are an expert with shield and the sword! Right, any questions, go ahead and shoot me a PM!