Completed [The Dyres District]Something Wicked

[Markus Andres]

Markus took the compliment with a simple nod. Although he didn't scoff at such recognition of his abilities, it was not the reason why they were here. He was there to teach them how to survive, not to stroke his own ego and devastate the squires. They needed a high morale for the next day. But did that mean he was going to give them a victory? - Nope. That would be dishonest. They'd have to claw their way to that victory. Every inch of the way and then when Markus lay broken as he did before Razkar, they would be ready. "Good. Work together as a team." Bolivar seemed much more eager to attack Markus. There was a determination in his steps. Fallon behind him, looked less than thrilled with the encouraging words Markus had given her, but Markus felt that that habit of hers to shield rush was a dangerous habit that ought be changed. But soon Fallon vanished in behind Bolivar and awaited her moment to attack. But Bolivar's attacks where frequent and they held the energy Markus wanted to see. The shield swung down to first block the low strike, affording him a glance over the shield to see that Fallon was still hidden. The next strike was higher, shield raised and Markus bit his teeth together, hoping that Fallon used this moment to get behind him. Markus felt the power of the strike against the shield. The squire had some strength in those arms. Wonderful. Markus caught the attention of the smaller squire in the small gap between his shield and shoulder pad. She was almost in the perfect position. But as Markus' gaze was diverted, he caught Bolivar's next attack. Aimed directly for his face. Instinctively Markus moved the shield directly between the two and he felt the power and heard the sound as the axe struck the shield. His words, distracting as they were left Markus wondering just what Fallon was doing. But he could not turn away, not this time. This was exactly the situation Markus never wanted to be in a real fight. Fighting on both sides with little room to manoeuvre on. A tactical nightmare. This time Bolivar was relentless in his attack and there was no time to turn and react to Fallon. He had to take a gamble and protect the most vital spot. Markus moved the shield back trying to use the top part of the shield to cover the back of his head from attacks. Markus hated the defensive and he lapsed into his aggressive method of counter attacking. Swinging the sword down to block the strike of the great axe mid swing. Before Bolivar could sweep Markus away. His next idea was to redirect his right fist smack middle into Bolivar's face in an uppercut. When he felt a strike push his right shoulder down. Fallon had struck - briefly forgotten about her. A scowl appeared on his face, briefly, before it was replaced with a smile. He could continue fighting, the wonders of the armour, but the duo had struck him and that had been the purpose of the training. To get them to work together. But Bolivar's words had surprised him, why had he spoken out? Fallon should have struck earlier as well. Had Bolivar stopped Fallon from striking earlier. "Stop! Well done. Can you see, when you continue pressing the offensive, Bolivar, I have no choice but to continue focusing on you. Giving Fallon the opportunity to strike. Fallon, if you get into this excellent a position tomorrow, feel free to kick or stomp the opponent right in the back the knee. Should topple them over and one of your opponents should be grounded. Aim for the weak spots, but considering they are your fellow squires, try not to hurt them too bad. - But as I said, be creative, don't get stuck in a familiar pattern." Markus said as he stepped out of the terrible tactical position so he could look at them both again, head moving between the two as he spoke to them. Eyes sizing them up, judging any effect the battle had had thus far.

[Fallon]

It was the shout from Markus that stopped her. The edge of the blade bouncing off his armour with minimal force. She gave a withdraw, the metal sliding away and back into its scabbard with ease and the buckles of the shield simply being fumbled with. But still she had no words to share with him, least nothing that was suitable for this situation. Both had to act professionally at present, for the current business was for the order – and duty, alas, came first. There was only a nod to his words and suggestions, the idea of dirty play being quite an interesting concept in her mind. She pushed down the urge of a wicked grin.

And even more so when he said about not being stuck in a familiar pattern. Ideas were already swimming round, forming into tactical plans and ideas as to how the pair could achieve some form of victory. If that was even at all possible. Still, in the end it had paid off, there was no two ways about it. Swinging the shield across her back she took up an attentive stance, and focused for the most part on her superior. There was the occasional eyeballing to Bolivar however, a slightly dumbfound expression on as to why he had spoken out. It was a perplexing thought, but she decided for the better not to dwell on it. Surely he meant well by it. Must have done. Rolling her shoulders, she only raised an eyebrow to the last of his comment.

”Creative?” there was a devilish smirk, ”Oh I think we can do that quite well.” There was a definite certainty in her voice, for at least she carried a one trump card up her sleeve. And she had a rough idea on what Bolivar was capable of. She looked upon the knight with a grin, and then promptly swallowed it – no point in letting him know what she had in mind just yet. She gave a nod to Bolivar, the thought still ticking round. But for now they could wait.

oocReturning to normal thread order; Markus, Fallon, Bolivar

[Bolivar]

The wide sweep met the knight's blade though if Bolivar forced it-

The shout sent a shock through Bolivar's system. Hearing his name quickly after. The squire found himself struggling to listen to what Marcus had to say. His mind was still in combat, still wanting to finish that swing. Perhaps he could get one more cut...

The shout meant to addle the opponent. One could never resist looking back when prompted. That slight hesitation signaling Bolivar's chance to take a chance and swing out at his opponent. But this time it was stopped. The squire wanted to see how it played out but somehow the knight's commanding presence stopped him. It felt fatal to stop an action while in the midst of carrying it out. Bolivar needed something, to give him that definitive feeling that they had indeed stopped fighting.

It did not come in the form of his partner's voice. In a conspiring and camaraderie tone that would have been immediately received with a smirk. Though for some reason it came off as obnoxious and questioning to the squire. A strange madness overtaking Bolivar as his mind kept going back to that one moment when the knight called for a stop.

"Speak for yourself, Fallon. You do that we'll be fine."

Stop it.

The apologetic look at Fallon was followed by a hasty scowl as he exasperated loudly. It was petching hot for some reason.

Maddening they expected us to train under such heat.

Pulling at his breast plate for any source of relief Bolivar looked back at Marcus mildly embarrassed, mildly miffed. He did not want to meet the knight's gaze when he was like this.

"Yea she's right, Fallon. Creative? We can manage. Can we stop for a moment? It's hot and I've got alot to think about."

[Perplexity]

17th Bell

For several hours the gathered had spent time drilling, instructing, and generally just getting to know each other. While some groups had drifted off to more private areas once the Captain had departed the majority had taken up the opportunity to simply train immediately and as much as possible. Shouts had rung out over the gathering, the overall din of activity had been almost deafening with the clashing of blades under careful instruction, or the pounding of shields against shields.

The day was growing late however and the need for rest was becoming more apparent as the hours ticked by. Groups began to disperse with the knights dismissing their squires to take the remainder of the day to rest up, repair armor or make whatever preparations they felt were necessary. Soon there were only two or three groups left the most diligent of course being the group under the instruction of Ser Andres. Even so there was little left to be achieved by drilling them all into exhaustion. When finally the three parted ways for the day being left to their own devices it was reaching into the early part of the evening.

There would be time left to bathe, to make ready the armor they would undoubtedly need for the tournament, and fill their stomachs with plenty of food. When the time came however the need for a good night’s sleep was evident as the exertion from training all day weighed down on their muscles. When they finished their labors the chaperons of the Squire Dormitories ushered each squire to bed making absolutely certain that those entered into the tournament were given a special air of quiet for the evening.

They would need it after all.

----------------------------------------------------------------

61st Day of Autumn, 513 AV
8th Bell

The tournament arrived without much fanfare. The morning was greeted much the same as any other. The Squires were roused from their slumber. Those participating in the tournament were given the time they needed to make their final preparations, breakfast was served in the dining halls and the squires were escorted in a military formation to the Antinous Training Grounds where waited Sera Sulvet. She stood on a slightly raised platform that allowed her along with the officials of the tournament to survey the assembled easily enough. There were already two formations of knights and squires in front of the platform. A considerably larger amount than had been gathered at the docks the day prior. It stood to reason though that if Sera Sulvet had been tasked with this assignment others had as well it would appear that she was simply the driving force behind this odd arrangement.

Nancy stood in a modified parade rest position. Her feet shoulder width apart. Her hands resting lightly at the small of her back and of course she maintained the most excellent of posture. Her dark hair was in a braid today. To her right stood the Chief Weaponmaster of the Order, Ser Lucius Antonious VI, to her left stood Sergeant Knight Gregory Davis. Behind the both of them were assembled the rest of the Weaponmasters of the Syliran Knighthood each one mimicking the Captain’s stance. Nancy was under no illusions that she held any real authority within the training grounds. The fact that Weaponmaster Lucius was deferring to her at the present time was only out of sheer courtesy. He could at any time override her decisions while in the purview of the training grounds.
Nancy didn’t mind. Without the help of the Weaponmasters the tournament wouldn’t have been made possible. She was deeply thankful for their assistance. The entirety of the grounds had been shifted slightly to match a general layout of what would transpire during the course of the tournament.

First and foremost there was the grand arena situated immediately behind them. It was little more than a large ring where the contestants could enter a straightforward bout and face down their opponents in the first round of the tournament. Beyond that though it looked as if the training grounds had been assembled in a variety of courses ranging from a standard obstacle course and progressively getting more complex from there. When the last formation fell into line Sera Sulvet stepped forth to address the crowd.

“Good morning and welcome to the opening day of the tournament! Each of you stands as an exemplary squire. Within all of you is the spark of success that can be fostered into a beacon of victory. On this opening day we must all give thanks to the Weaponmasters of the training grounds. Without their support this endeavor would not have been made possible.” She nodded to Weaponmaster Lucius who gave a gruff nod as she began clapping. Her gesture was quickly followed by most of the assembled. When she raised her hands for silence a smile touched her face.

“It brings me unbridled joy to see so many of Syliras finest gathered here today. Let me explain the tournament.” She gestured to the grounds.

“The first round is the elimination round. It will be straightforward. A contest of nothing more than outright skill in the main ring.” She pointed to the first area of the grounds where rested the simple yet large arena. “There are a total of forty teams selected from across the regiments participating in the elimination rounds. Only twenty shall move forward to the second round of the tournament.” She pointed to the next area of the training grounds.

“The second round of the tournament is the obstacle course. Each team of squires shall be timed through the obstacle course in which various challenges both overt and subtle shall be thrown your way. This is to test your wit and your ability to think under pressure. The ten teams with the quickest times shall advance to the third round.” She pointed to an enclosed area of the grounds characterized by a multitude of archways at its entrance.

“Many of you might be familiar with the labyrinth. It has been outfitted to suit the purposes of the tournament. The ten teams that advance from the second round will face the challenges of the labyrinth. Each team will be given a specific item they need to locate within the labyrinth. Once this item is acquired they must exit the labyrinth in a timely manner.” She shrugged her shoulders slightly. “Only time will tell what lays within those walls. The four teams that make it through the labyrinth successfully will advance to the final round.” She gestured to the main arena once again.

“The fifth round of the tournament will be the redemption round. Those teams that failed to advance will be given the opportunity to make it to the final round one last time. The caveat is that they will go through the entire course in a single day. The four teams that complete the courses appointed to them most effectively will be advanced to the final round.” She turned her gaze back to the assembled.

“The sixth and final round of the tournament will be decided between the eight teams who successfully advanced through the other rounds of the tournaments. The final round will be unique. Squires will be permitted to use live weapons during this round whereas all others will be with dulled, training weapons.” She surveyed the crowd carefully.

“None of these trials will be easy. Some of them may not prove hard for the exceptionally skilled. All of them will prove to be eye opening in some way. May Sylir grant you peace of mind, may Yahal grant you strength and may Tyveth guide your spirits. Let the tournament begin!”

[Markus Andres]

Markus looked over the many squires and knights gathered that day. Few knights towered as far above their squires as Markus did, both Fallon and Bolivar on the short side. He was a bit nervous on their behalf. He tried to tell himself that he had done his best to prepare the two for the upcoming trials. But he would have preferred more time to turn the two into a cohesive unit. But that was just his own nerves talking. He was, after all, about to see his girlfriend compete in a tournament and considering what had happened the first time he had trained her, it was only natural that Markus was nervous when she was to engage in combat. Markus listened to Sera Sulvet as she explained the tournament and a small smile managed to sneak onto his lips as he understood it was not only their martial ability that it counted on. Teamwork was useful in most of those disciplines. Well, except the obstacle course, but there it was good that Fallon wore less restricting armour than most squires. Assuming they would be going through it wearing their armour. No use worrying about that now he figured and stood silently as he listened to sera Sulvet go through each round in the tournament. The live weapons one was a bit interesting and worrying, but he pushed those thoughts away. Worry about that when the duo got that far. Sera Sulvet finished with the gods and Markus pondered briefly why she left out Eyris and his gaze inadvertently went to Fallon, knowing too well that she bore the mark of the goddess. Markus dismissed the thought, he supposed Sulvet had to end the speech at some point and would get rather tiresome if she started mentioning all the gods and goddesses. He clapped his hands together gently and rubbed them together as he looked at the duo of squires. "Well, this ought to be interesting for the two of you. You're both decent fighters and you've shown that you can work together, so keep that up and you'll do great, I have every faith in the two of you. So go kick some ass." Markus said, thinking that this was far from the best pre-battle speech he had ever made, but it would have to do.

[Fallon]

Fallon grimaced. If not because of the actual tasks that were before them, then due to the dwelling thoughts of her preferred and patron Goddess. Arms were folded in a defensive fashion, her brow knitting into that of a scowl. So that was that then. They needed guidance only from those three and no form of forward thinking? Joy upon joy, there was only a brief roll of the eyes, teeth chewing at her lip as she exhaled. There was no use letting emotions get the better of her, it would only create seeds for their own demise. If of course, they could get through the trials. Six daunting tasks to help select the best from the best and to sift out the impurities.

Nostrils flared, her eyes drifting firstly to Markus and then to Bolivar. They knew how to work together, of course they did. They had ridden; they had fought, investigated and trained together. And kept the other on their toes at all times. Now it was the test to see if they truly could keep it going. Finally releasing the frown, she gave a definite nod to Bolivar with the curling of a smile upon her lips. They would always do their hardest; they would always push themselves to the very edge – just like before. Gently she clicked her neck, her fingers rubbing at her jaw as she addressed Bolivar, ”We’ll get through this. Just like before. Cause, I’ve got your back, remember?” There was a gentle bump of her knuckles upon his shoulders, a definite spark existing in her eyes. Confidence? Perhaps, but it would be better to describe it as a definite certainty that she was going to take the great step forward. With courage leading the way.

There was only a final glance to Sera Sulvet, a moment of careful regard to the knight. The first was an open challenge, designed to test the abilities of the squires. Did that mean that anything went? There was the roll of the shoulders, the final moments of being tentative to be shaken off. There was no room for hesitation now, ”So, ass kicking...? I can do that. Let's get this show on the road.”

[Bolivar]

It was interesting to see all the various hoops and perils that awaited them. Convoluted in a way but that just made it interesting didn't it? Though he had to admit the sound of an obstacle course didn't appeal as much given their stature but a labyrinth seemed easy enough. Listening to the rest of the events Bolivar raised an inquisitive eye at the last bit.

We get told we have live weapons but for what exactly?

Shrugging at the various deities thrown around Bolivar could feel his heart racing at the anticipation. By Izurdin he was nervous! At least until he realized this was the same as was back in Sultros. Every festival they held something like this over there... this was just the human's version of that. No doubt he could handle that right?

His shoulder impressed upon by Fallon's knuckle Bolivar looked enviously at Fallon. Her demeanor seemed to be much easier then Bolivar's and it seemed to make all the difference from where he was standing.

"Just like before. And you've me Fallon."

Trying to work off that energy given from her Bolivar looked earnestly ahead. Listening to the knight once more Bolivar gave a skeptical nod. Markus was an... okay leader but he definitely needed some more practice no doubt. His skill with a sword was uncanny enough and for that Bolivar was all too grateful. Listening to the rousing calls throughout the crowd Bolivar stoop stoically gathering his will for what came next.

[Perplexity]

And so it began.

The Squires were given a few last moments with their mentors. It was time enough to give a final pep talk or to offer up some last minute pointers but all in all the Weaponmasters and the Knights presiding over the tournament began to call off teams.

The first fight began.

On one team was a young man and a young woman. The both of them couldn’t have been over twenty years old. They were both likely younger than that. They were the picture of health. On the other team were what appeared to be an Akalak squire and Konti. There was a resolute peace about the two of them and it was apparent from her light armor that the Konti was an aspiring mage-knight.

The bell resounded signaling the opening match of the tournament and what a match it was!

Both teams were equally skilled. The Akalak warrior keeping the opposing Squires at bay away from his Konti partner. The Konti offering up her support in what appeared to be the form of Air Reimancy. Finally in a decisive move the Akalak warrior somersaulted away from his opponents opening up the two humans to a full blast from the Konti sorceress. The two human were not horribly injured but it was apparent who had won the first bout. Humbly the Akalak squire and his Konti counterpart bowed to the spectators then went to offer what assistance they could to their opponents.

Round after round passed. Squires from all walks of life seemed to be present at the tournament. Each team displayed varying skills from using full frontal tactics to diversions to all out brawling. It was certainly one of the liveliest spectacles the Knighthood had seen in some time. Finally it came time for Fallon and Bolivar to make their way to the arena. It seemed that they would be the final bout for the day. Sera Sulvet stepped up to address the spectators all comprised of squires who’d won and lost.

“We come now to the final bout of the elimination round! To those who claimed victory on this day well done! To those who were defeated honorably do not hang your heads in shame but ready yourself for your chance to jump into the fray again. Learn from your mistakes and grow from them. Now then! Let the final match begin!”

The arena itself was simple. It was a circular and the ground was covered in soft dirt that was spotted with blood and muddied with the sweat from the day’s competitors. Around the arena were wooden bleachers that extended outward from a central sitting booth where Sera Sulvet and her fellow officers observed the fights calmly. Standing at the opening of the arena were two young men who looked quite nervous. One was chatting animatedly with his counterpart whilst the other was chewing thoughtfully on his bottom lip. Both of them were likely around twenty years old and years of being in service to the knighthood showed in their physical stature. They wore their chainmail easily as if they were linen shirts. The plate armor didn’t seem to impede their movements like it would those unused to the knight’s vestments.

An insightful individual might even guess that these two were nearing their Knight’s Quest. The squire who was talking animatedly ceased his chatters once Bolivar and Fallon walked up to the entrance of the arena. He was a suntanned lad with dark brown hair and equally dark brown eyes. He offered a hand to no one in particular but it was aimed at both of the junior Squires.

“Hey there! Names Chester! Just wanted to wish you both luck in this match.” He turned his dark brown eyes to Fallon observing her with a smile for a moment.

“Aren’t you Fallon? I hear tell that you’re pretty skilled with the tulwar. It’ll be nice to see that reputation in action.” The second squire walked up just behind Chester. He inclined his head slightly. His hair was a sandy blonde with hazel eyes.

“Peter.” He gave them both a salute. “I look forward to crossing blades with the both of you. This should prove to be an great match.” Peter’s eyes turned to Bolivar.

“Bolivar, isn’t it? I’ve heard about your skills in reimancy. Hopefully this won’t turn out to be a chilling encounter.” He chuckled slightly at his poor jest but made a placating gesture. “I only jest. May this be an honorable match.” With that the two opposing squires entered the arena accompanied by a roar of approval.

If either Fallon or Bolivar had been paying much mind to the armaments of their opponents they would note that Peter carried a heavy shield on his back with a wooden longsword at his hip. Chester had what appeared to be two wooden swords crossed over his back and was armored a bit more lightly than his counterpart.

As the two squires approached the entrance to the arena a Weaponmaster halted them inquired about their weapons of choice. Upon being told wooden versions would be given to either of them they would then be ushered inside.

The air was thick with anticipation. The excitement, the worry, the anxiety all hanging like a thick cloud over the arena but despite it all Peter and Chester looked rather serene. They appeared calm, cool and collected in the midst of it all though Chester obviously had a more lively glint in his eye than Peter. Fallon and Bolivar would be given time to take up their positions. Both Chester and Peter drew their weapons then bowed to their opponents giving them the respect they were due in honorable combat.

The bell rang.

Moving as if it were second nature Peter brought his shield up placing the flat of his blade atop the shield charging Bolivar head on. Chester moved a bit more swiftly than his counterpart darting low gunning straight for Fallon.

The match was on. Who would win?

NoteHang out Markus and just watch but something will be coming down the pipeline for you shortly! Fallon, Bolivar, feel free to engage your opponents in your posts.

[Fallon]

Fallon inhaled the air, tasting the edge of battle almost on her tongue. Shouts, cries, the clatter of wooden weapons upon each other. Faces changed and rotated round constantly, quick steps and clatters ringing out as variety came and went. Hands were changed; weapons exchanged with shouts and cries to the watching crowd of squires and knights. Her chin only briefly gave a rise as she watched, but she did not join in with the jostling, she was far too focused on weighing up their opponents. Eyes checked for weakness, and checked the movements on how both each moved, some with mage-squires others who were more solid and existed solely on shields and armour. Of course, one by one they bowed out whilst others rose victorious, and before she knew it both of them were called to the field.

Saving the best till last perhaps? Who knew. Pulling away she gave a gesture to Bolivar, a sharp incline of the head to him as they made their way to the arena opening. In honesty she was not sure how to respond to the other squires and their plate, in her mindset they made her look tiny and like a twig. Her brow only furrowed slightly as she gave a glance down to her leathers. She gave a sheepish scratch at her face, ”Yes. Hello. I’m Fallon. Yes. Tulwar. How do you …?”

There was only the brief forming of a thoughtful look, before it eased off and her attention turned to the weapons. Eyes drifted over them, her hand giving a firm point first to the wood tulwar and shield, and then a final point to a wooden kukri – out of honour for her own blade if anything. Giving a last respectful nod to their opponents, Fallon gave a quick glance to Bolivar, a curl of the lip and a quick pat on the arm. Leaning in she gave a whisper into his ear, ”Let’s go crack some heads.”

Her shoulders rolled, the straps being pulled upon her arm. Two skilled against two less so, still they had to give the best they could. They were squires; they had to in the presence of the knights. More so when a weight rested upon them. She gave a testing swing with the tulwar, reminding herself of the blade before taking up her stance, shield first tulwar not so far behind it. There was a rock on her toes, a quick check of Bolivar as he got into position. The tension could have been cut with a knife. Nostrils flaring she stared at them, the pulse picking up, the fire rising up from within. This was only training really, she had face much worse in her time, with foes who intended to take her lives and show no mercy. But she was not about to ease up, not just yet.

When the bell rang, Fallon sprung into life. She remembered Markus’ words about working as a team, to understand and work to their advantages. She was to flank after all, to allow Bolivar draw all the attention and for her to exploit it. But, there was two of them this time, both keen and ready, versed and trained to the near finest. Fallon sucked in the air, toes pressing beneath her, the entire weight shifting her into movement. Communication was vital, it told her partner what she was planning, her ideas and thoughts. And whilst she had the attention of the faster upon her, Bolivar she felt was about to be squished. Shield went forward, form ready to absorb the blow as she darted in front of her partner, a single firm command upon her lips.

”Switch!”

oocSort of guessing (when confirmed with Markus) this is a skip his and carry on?

[Bolivar]

A strong handshake was a good to start things off. Taking the offered hand meant a number of things. Of course it was perceived as well mannered, taking it meant that they perceived him as the alpha of the two and it let the ones shaking gauge each other slightly.

"A pleasure I'm sure."

Feeling slight pressure from Chester's grip Bolivar merely grinned at the notion. The mixed blood had a good feeling about this. Raising an eyebrow at Fallon's reply before giving a nod to the man sandy blonde man behind him Bolivar gave the pair an apt stare to make up for Fallon's shy demeanor. Though the slight joke was received badly. Giving his usual deadpan expression he didn't quite know how to react to that as the two walked into the arena.

"That got my dander up."

Taking slight notice of Fallon's comment Bolivar understood the both of them to be in agreement. Manners were nice and well but when they started fighting there would be no illusion of them being anything but fighting to win. Shrugging off his weapon he gave a few practice swings to test the weight of his new weapon before heading off into the arena. Putting on his helmet Bolivar quickly adjusted to the new sights, gathering confidence from his experience and slowly easing himself into a fighting spirit. As the bell sounded the mixed blood watched the pair dart towards them as Fallon called the command.

"Of course."

It seemed like their roles would be reversed at that instant as Fallon took his place in the front. Moving to intercept the shield bearer while being approached by the dual wielder Bolivar easy pace quickly switched into a hard rush. His low position was much more manageable to the mixed blood as he bowed his head and went for a charge on Peter. Intending to ram hard into him Bolivar's weapon positioned to help bash into the man would go for a low cutting swipe at the man's shins should the man disengaged.