Completed Training the Squire for war [Fallon]

[Markus Andres]

Markus was not there to defeat Fallon, he was there to allow her to grow and learn from her mistakes and get comfortable with her own style of battle and for her to improve her defensive capabilities. That was why Markus' expression was a lot more closed up than usual. The ever-presents hints of a smile just about to crease his face was gone. Replaced with a simple, stern look. Markus always went for the victory, it was in his blood, so to restrain himself like this was, hard. Watching her shield block his initial strike and her leap back dodge his second strike. Markus was pleased with the squire's reactions, but the speed and uncertainty with which she had moved the shield bothered him. It was good that he had chosen to train her with the shield. The knight was mildly surprised when the squire decided to attack him, the rules clearly favoured a defensive strategy of blocking and dodging the knight's attacks. Attacking would leave her open for possible counter attacks. Markus, however, loved it. People who fought merely on the defensive bored him. But he ought not have been surprised, Fallon was much like that when they spoke, countering his verbal jabs and jokes with ease. Her attack was a straightforward shield charge. Which immediately had Markus thinking there had to be an ulterior motive and there being nothing straight-forward about it. Markus always had an ulterior motive when he came charging in with the shield leading. Markus slid his right leg out to the side and moved his upper body in the same direction. Putting him at an angle compared to the squire's charge, no longer being a head on collision. Markus knew he could have won that head on collision, but thinking the squire to have an ulterior motive, best not to play into her hand. From this different angle he would swing out hard with the shield to catch her shield at the same sideways angle. Intending to knock the shield to her right and redirect her charge in that direction. From this angle he would not have to counter all of the momentum of her charge, rather just redirect it to his purpose. Hopefully opening up her back for a strike. His sword would come in after the shield bash, flat side aimed at the centre of her back right where the shoulder blades stopped, had she not been turned all the way, his strike would naturally land against her left side ribcage. Had his intention been to kill or maim, he would have swung at the head or low enough to hamstring her. But Natasha might have a problem with getting back a maimed or dead squire. Had his intention been to enrage her, he would have targeted her butt - Also not a good idea considering their relationship. Should his strike successfully hit her, he would speak, if not, the fight would continue. "First strike, you know the reward. A shield charge is very dangerous against bigger opponents, so I assume you had a plan attached?" Markus said, his voice neutral.

[Fallon]

Fallon turned and twisted, a sharp pivot round as the blow came racing round, the flat striking against her. It was hard to resist toppling, the force pushing her onwards and inevitably spinning to the floor. Even her own shield went against her in her tumble. Teeth gritted, knuckles pressed against the ground as she came to terms with what had happened. Attacking him head on would not work, but allowing him to constantly press a defence would only tire her out – if not through trying to avoid blows then through the gifting of his ‘awards’.

“Nope, no plan,” she shook her head, her eyes focused on the ground, “Just testing the waters.”

For a chime she sat on the floor, eyes blinking and her head ringing. She needed to think, she needed to clear her thoughts and find a way to fight back. Not that it would be easy – he had a bigger range than her and was more skilled. That was obvious. She placed down the tulwar and the shield, “Ten pushes and ten squats, right? You might be waiting a while Ser. Best get comfy.”

She gave a click, shoulders rolling before readying herself for press ups. Hands pressed against the floor, a low exhale as she tried to think on how to exactly do this. Keeping her feet together and her palms down, she begun the push up with her arms, her weight going straight to them whilst her back remained rigid. There was a sharp exhale of air, her brow creasing as the limbs tensed and relaxed with the rising and falling. If anything the squire looked as if she was scowling at his knees, the eyes having narrowed down upon them. It was a point of focus, even if it did seem she were shooting daggers at them. When she did get round to the final push, and released a firm grunt did she allow her arms to rest and a different form of her punishment. Squats were much easier – more so when she found that momentum could be found by gently swinging her arms at the right moment. Still, the squire was left feeling aching after that session and already grumbling at the thought of starting again with the defences.

Hands pulled at the shield, the straps tightened and ready. Her mind however was still thinking through on how to deal with him, on how to fight back – if she even could. Shoulders rolled, her gaze looking him up and down with careful thought. Range, he definitely had that, and a bigger shield. Her lip curled. Size never mattered, it was how you used it. She was small and light, he was weighted down in plate. Even she knew about how that would hinder movements regardless of how experienced someone was in wearing it.

“Ser, the rules were simply not to leave this training area or for me to receive a hit, no? Thus, is it safe to assume that the rules you have been stated must be kept through any means possible?” the curl was quickly turning into a smirk, the eyes growing sharp as plans were formulated. And then came the low drop of, “Excellent.”

Fingers took up the Tulwar, flexing and gripping around it. Speed, range and closing the gap. She wetted her lips, joints clicking. Toes flexed, her stance swaying slightly ready to move and evade blows that came her way. And when the opportunity came, she would weave her way in and close the gap.

[Markus Andres]

The knight had to harden his heart when Fallon went tumbling after the strike. Not break the wall he had built between the personal and professional life. He considered Fallon a tough girl, she could handle a little tumble. Markus tilted his head when Fallon responded to his question. His mouth grew thinner and the disappointment was obvious for anyone to see. He had expected a more intricate idea from the squire. If Markus had intended to kill the squire, her way to test the waters would have discoloured the blue sea with her lifeblood. Markus shrugged, there was a reason he had been asked to teach her, right? Teach her a little about tactics as he forced her body to grow stronger and her martial skills develop. Markus nodded absent minded to her rhetoric question, confirming the reward. "Use a less aggressive way to test the waters next time, rushing that recklessly will only leave you a head shorter. Especially without armour." Markus said as she begun to do the push ups. Markus casually sheathed his sword and just observed as Fallon did the push ups. His knightly gaze wandering down her body and the less knightly aspects of his persona lingered a little too long on a particular area before continuing down. Judging if she were not doing the push ups properly. That was when he recalled her injury to the right shoulder last season. His attention shifted to the shoulder. Although he lacked medical training she did not seem to wince nor did it look like her arm was taking less weight than the other. He would have to ask her later how her arm was doing. It was easier and harder to check up on her shoulder when she did the squats, her arms swinging back and forth and she did not show any signs of pain, other than the strain of the muscles being used. It was harder to get a look at the shoulder without her noticing his attention to it, so his gaze was more superficial than normally. She was done with the first reward and it was time to carry on. Markus drew his blade again and tilted his head when she questioned him. He responded with a simple nod and the corresponding smirk on her lips triggered every alarm in his head. Despite, or rather, because of the alarms in his head a natural smile appeared on his lips. Intrigued by the prospect of a plan. Markus slid his right leg back so the shield side was leading and stepped forward to get in range of the squire. Markus' sword swung down hard. A diagonal swipe at her left shoulder to start things off with, once again testing her left side. Training her to respond with the shield when danger arose. But the attack was a feint, sword suddenly cutting straight down and changed trajectory to instead hit her by the left hip. Might sacrifice some range on striking downward angle, but he had plenty of range to spare.

[Fallon]

Fallon gave a snort, followed a gentle roll of her shoulders as she tried to shake off the heavy feeling that now rested there. She knew she was far from physically fit, and she knew that she should pay more attention to the needs of her body. Even she felt the distinct twinges and aches that rested there. Perhaps it was too soon to thrust the weight of a shield, and then again she could not keep putting it off forever. There was a deep inhale as she readied herself, reminding where the hilt was as she felt it. She gave the wrist a turn, her feet moving into place whilst the shield itself moved forward defensively. From there, she begun to think, her mind working through ways to use and exploit.

The best defence was the offensive she was once told. Eyes turned and locked, meeting that of the knight’s, burrowing down upon the pupils. She had to be ready, she had to fight – even if it was just training. Nostrils flared as she watched the turn, her shoulder and shield jerking on her left to meet the oncoming blade. The rest of her went to make space, a sharp side step away. She gave a rock on her toes, the tip of the tulwar still pointing keenly at him. He had length and experience over her, but she had speed. She had to go faster; she had to be swifter in order to stay one step ahead. The right foot went forward, sword first, shield second as she sprung upon her toes, she kept an eye on the blade as she formulated a plan. A blind spot was needed, a point to be exploited. Eyes turned to his shield side, the smirk turning into a grin.

It was time to fight.

On the spot she pivoted; turning and contorting so the shield came forward and the blade snapped back. But instead of charging him all the way she stopped short, bracing and readying for impact. Feet turned and moved, working quickly to get around and behind, to get into what she perceived as his blind spot. She was not quite sure, he had height after all, and the angles may be off too. Still there was no harm in trying, it was the only way she was going to learn – and practice made perfect. Her main and current priority however was not to get hit – she did not fancy doing another round of rewards. The muscles tensed, the tendons stretching as once more she locked the gaze. She had to ignore her aches; she had to push herself further than before.

[Markus Andres]

There was a determination in the eyes of Fallon that Markus very much enjoyed seeing there. A strong desire to avoid the rewards of being struck. It was hard to maintain the stone cold face of a instructor, especially when he felt so strongly for the person he was training. He was also pleased to see that she had reacted to well to his feinted attack and adapted. The squire used this opportunity to move again, get in closer to Markus, albeit in a less reckless manner than before, which was an excellent development. At least he no longer risked killing her when she threw herself at him with abandon. The direction was to be expected as well. His left side, huge shield there blocking his body, but should she get behind Markus, she should be at an advantageous position. Naturally, Markus was not about to let her get behind him. His eyes traced her movement. Checking her balance and stance. Looking for corrections he could make. Improvements to her style. Instead, it was time to test how well she adapted when her plan went awry. Markus pulled back his sword to a raised guard, ready to strike down from above. But as the sword came back to his body, Markus feet slid on the ground. Right stationary but on the toes to turn on the ground, the left leg moving behind him, using the right foot as the anchor for his pivot. Followed the squire in the direction she had intended to strike him from. It was a simple trick, maintaining the same stance and allowed Markus to react to counter attacks with ease. Which meant he could devote more effort to his beloved aggressive-strategy. The raised right arm swung down fast in a diagonal backhand from above, aiming for her right shoulder with a quick flat strike. Ready to stop the blade should she move further to his left. No desire to slap the Bastard across her face. The talent to adapt during combat was one of the most important aspects of fighting. Talent or harsh training to respond to threats creatively. That and teaching her the basics of defence was his most important duty today. Impart knowledge of the tenants of the knighthood came on a close second, but Natasha could handle that aspect. The sword would strike rather quickly from the squire's point of view from the other side of her body and the intended blind spot she had sought had been moved without sacrificing Markus' defence.

[Fallon]

The knight moved. That much was to be expected, she knew he was not about to let her have her way. He was there to exploit her movements and skills after all, to push her into thinking differently. It was training her for the worst after all. He pivoted round, not giving her a moment of grace in order to begin her retaliation. He gave an aggressive swipe, fast and swift to her weapon side. The aim was for her shoulder, not that it mattered too much at present. It left her with several choices as to how to deal with it.

The first option would be to turn sharply herself, to bring her shield sweeping round to block the oncoming blow, but then she would be left exposed to whatever plan he had next – which inevitably left her to receive her ‘rewards’. Shoulders rolled, her eyes narrowing down upon the oncoming blade. She could not waste time. The second option would be to try and block the oncoming blade with her own, but that would only buy her time at most along with leaving her unable to attack or fight back. Her knees bent slightly as she rose up onto her toes, her shoulders rolling and turning. The third would simply be to back away, but that would mean all the effort she put in to get close would be for naught. She would have to make a move soon. And then there was the forth.

Here goes nothing!

The shield came in close to her, the edge pressing against the jacket. The tulwar came in, the inner curve resting above her shoulder, the hilt going back so it rested slightly higher. From there she began to move. The right shoulder was the first to drop, her head tucking in as she did, the shield sliding up so it covered the left side of her head. Her rear knee dropped, and then pushed her to the side, her leading foot focusing on dragging her under and beneath the oncoming blade as it sliced overhead. Tendons protested as she forced herself up, muscles straining and pushing as she forced the shield out from the once closed in state to catch the other side of the bastard sword, and his exposed side. She forced the flat of the shield towards the arm, focusing on pushing it round and away, her feet leading her in. The tulwar hovered off her shoulder, forming into a steady downward arch – though it was nowhere near the speed of the knight’s it was still apparent that it was quickly closing in. Teeth gritted, her wrist twisting to try and plant a light strike against him – if anything for the satisfaction that she had gotten close.

[Markus Andres]

Excellent. The steel passed harmlessly above the squire as she ducked below the incoming attack. To his surprise, she also seemed to know to use her shield to check his sword from swinging back in again. It did leave her centre more open that she followed his strike with the shield, but with Markus' weapon out there it hardly mattered that she was left exposed. - Unless Markus was the type of person to actively use his shield as a weapon in combat. Markus started to pull the bastard straight back as he kept his eyes on Fallon's weapon. Watching it descent towards him - had this not been to teach her how to fight and how to defend herself, Markus would have been a lot more brutal in his counter attack, step in and hammer his shield directly up into her wrist or arm if possible. Cause damage to the arm, weaken her attack. Explaining that one to her later would be an interestingly terrible conversation. Instead Markus just went for the more conservative defence and blocked her incoming slash with his heater shield. Gripping the straps inside the shield tighter as the steel was stopped from descending upon his head, Markus' left arm swung out hard. Pushing blade and hopefully arm aside in a violent jerk. Without savouring the blow or gauging what had happened to her blade, he was confident it no longer posed an immediate threat to his security, Markus punched the shield forward, the inner edge aimed directly at Fallon's exposed center and right shoulder. His left foot sliding forward as he did so, getting that extra couple of inches of reach on his shield. As it didn't have much more than an inch or two more reach than his basic fist. Just enough to reach her, not enough to slam through her and inflict terrible damage. Better yet, with his shield on the outside of the arm, her weapon was trapped on the other side of his shield. Should the strike connect, she would probably feel it sting a bit, but Markus was holding back from putting all his weight into the strike. Just hit her, mark that she had been hit with a little pain if needed be and then she could get her reward. He would speak should the shield connect to her with a simple tone of voice. "Another reward. You're starting to get a bit greedy? Soon you'll be wanting a third and fourth reward?" Markus teased lightly.

[Fallon]

Fallon was bounced backwards, there was no two ways about it. The entire movement sent her wobbling, her arms flailing, her balance being lost in an instant. Of course it stung and her movement was forced into a stagger. There was a grunt, followed by the slumping of shoulders as she realised what was to come next. It was safe to say she did not appreciate the teasing – far from it in fact. Demeaning would be the best way to describe it, she did not need further confirmation that she was incompetent at fighting or defending herself. The tulwar was lowered with the shield, and her reward was performed.

“Yes Ser. Whatever you say Ser. Very greedy of me Ser.”

Hands pressing against the floor, she began once more with the push ups. Arms strained, the use of muscles being more noticeable with every rise and fall. It was much the same when it came to squats - tendons stretching and relaxing, sharp pangs of pain here and there. But all the while she was silent, her mind growing more disenchanted by the tick. Cheeks puffed, movements growing sluggish, a distinct numbness having formed in the back of her shins. She gave her leg a shake before once more claiming her equipment. Not that she was sure why she bothered, she knew soon the process would repeat itself – so what was the point in fighting back?

She pulled at the buckles of the shield and gave the tulwar a testing swing. Was steel always this heavy? Or was it more that her limbs were tired with performing the same untrained exercise? She gave her neck a click and turned her attention once more to the knight. There was a light frown as she shuffled her feet around into position. What was the petching point of it all? Turning so she stood blade first to him, the shield held in to her left side. There was no real solidness to it all, more so as she continued to rock back and forth upon the balls of her toes. She knew what she needed to do. She needed to close the gap. A seemingly impossible task for a man who was an obvious master. There was a chew at her lip, before she instilled herself to simply wait, absorb, receive her ‘reward’ and finally repeat the process.

Or at least until she could figure out his pattern.

Swing, one, two, three. Shield, one and two, she felt her lids narrow slightly in careful thought, Let’s just get this over with.

[Markus Andres]

Markus had to suppress a chuckle when he saw the very displeased look on her face. But he knew that would be adding fuel to the fire and cause trouble down the road. Especially for the actual reward he was planning for later. Markus watched her in silence as she did the push ups and squats. That he had chosen some physical aspects to go with her training had been a good idea. He nodded satisfied when she got back on her feet and drew her blade. The desire to fight was still there, but it appeared to be flickering. He would have to remedy that right away. Give her the will to fight. "Well- We knights don't like greed, we prefer the generous kind. So let us push you to the point where it is you who generously and selflessly reward the next generation of squires with this wonderful gift." There was a bright smile on his lips as he looked to Fallon. "Let us make it a bit more interesting. Should you land a hit on me, I will be the one carrying out the reward." Markus nodded firmly to seal the deal and looked to Fallon as she prepared herself mentally and physically for Markus to attack. Markus' fingers drummed against the hilt of the blade. Fingers moving in a wavelike motion as he waited until Fallon looked ready. Then he attacked. A quick backhanded swing from just outside range, test if Fallon had picked up the length of his sword and react accordingly. If Markus was to swing and miss, he'd be expending a good deal of energy needlessly. Should she pick up on the attack and just dodge the attack, Markus would step closer with a smile on his lips as the blade would move in a tight arc into the air, before descending on Fallon more directly from Markus' top right side. A diagonal slash at her left shoulder. Markus would not stop his onslaught however, he would pull the blade back and aim it directly at her centre mass. - However, should she block the initial strike, Markus would pull the blade directly up and let it descend on her from directly above. Only for it to be a feint and he would pull it directly back and aim it at her centre mass in a direct thrust.

[Fallon]

In honesty Fallon did not understand him or his offer. But, she did understand the notion of landing a hit upon him - that much was obvious. Giving him only a questioning look, the squire quickly rolled her eyes and offered out a sigh. His attempt at upping the game did little to catch her interest, yet she could not object to it – they were both on duty whether they liked it or not. So, she would simply have to up her own game one way or another. Her stance changed, her blade going forward with her right foot leading. Twisting so she faced him side on she watched and waited. There was a gentle step, left foot behind the right with the muscles tensing. The left arm came close, the shield behind held at an angle to her instead of flat out and covering her front. A change of tactics was at hand.

She stepped back when the back hand came, feet snapping together with her entire form leaning back to avoid it. The pommel of the tulwar rested on her thigh, her arm remaining bent and close. He took a step in, his assault continuing, the gap being closed. He pressed her defence, aiming obviously to give her no time to recover. Brute force would be the best way to describe it. And in no way was he holding back. At this rate she would sooner be run through then have a productive training session. The blade came arcing down, and in response she brought the shield upwards to greet it and to side step away and out of reach. She did not fancy being on the receiving end of it. Taking the moment of his draw back she advanced in, tulwar leading the way. She gave a slash, aiming to simply bring it arching across and discourage him.

Feet moved faster, steeling singing as she met his blade and attempted to redirect it. Instead she was forced back and to the side, her shield working on clattering it away. When his next strike came she tried to push in again. Her shield raised to catch it, not fancying having the steel carving into her head. Her sword arm in the meanwhile lunged forward to strike and land a hit. But his never came. The sword thrust came forward, the tip striking into her exposed centre of mass with ease.

Something was wrong. Very wrong. That much was obvious. She felt the air escape her lungs, her entire form faltering into a stagger in an instant. Her right arm went limp as the hold upon the tulwar being released. She remembered the ring of steel in her ears, her right shoulder slamming forward. Her footing was lost, slipping beneath. Her head spun, the entire form contorting as she tumbled past and inevitable crumpled to the floor.