DK - The Desert Comes Calling - CH 25th TT

[Malakhai Qinua]

Before Malakhai really knew what hit him, he was sprawling in the dirt, his knee stinging painfully. Not fair! was his first thought. The other man must have cheated. But the fact of the matter was that, as Malakhai knew (and as he had been hoping), the Warden didn't need to cheat to beat him. Still, just because he'd been hoping to lose didn't make it any easier to accept when he did.

Staggering a little, Malakhai accepted the offered arm reluctantly and stood. "Not well enough," he responded bitterly, then thought better of it. A sore loser he certainly was, but it wouldn't do to get off on the wrong foot with these people. He pulled off his own helmet and brushed back his black hair. "Thank you, dreshi," he added sincerely, laying down his shield and tourney sword by the helmet, and grinned. "I look forward to trying again."

It was hard to be enthusiastic about the prospect of another bout when the deciding blow from the first one was still aching. Nevertheless, the tribesman tried his hardest to convert his disappointment and resentment into determination. It was hopefully a step in the right direction.

He stepped out of the circle, returning towards Khalaros and his new, extremely large companion.

[Vanadius]

"Ah fear not. I have a few yahren and a few battles on you. You did very well. If you're going to work with a shield, just remember to keep it low and strong to cover from shoulder to knee. We'll work on it." Blacktree advised.

"Just relax now, I'll take everyone over to Pete's when we're done, and we'll get you something cool and wet."

He gave Malakhai a knowing glance and a nod, and returned his attention to the trainees.

After it seemed the desert warrior was back on his feet and seemed to be none the worse for wear, the veteran Warden picked up his helmet and put it back on.

"Next" he shouted loudly, with a flick of his eyes towards Khalaros and H'saan.

[Khalaros Lehan]

"Well done!" Khalaros applauded Malakhai's efforts as he left the circle, grimacing. It was obvious from his manner that the young tribesman was proud and disliked losing to the elder knight, but still, he maintained his dignity as he returned. An admirable trait and one that Khalaros sought to adhere to, himself.

"Well done indeed. I should be lucky to do half as well..." The blond haired swordsman trailed off as the Warden called out for his next opponent. "Excuse me a moment." Khalaros said quietly to the two other applicants, and stepped around the tribesman and forward, hoping to do so before any of the assembled knights could.

Striding a few paces forward, he locked on the Knight and spoke in as clear and confident a tone as he could muster. "Your pardon, Sir. But I would welcome the chance to cross swords with you."

[Vanadius]

Warden Blacktree did a cursory examination of Khalaros as he stepped into the ring.

"Cross swords you will then." The Warden replied in kind.

The older warrior began to circle to his left, and occasionally feint a lunge in to test the younger man's reflexes.

Then the last lunge was no feint, and the Warden came in low and fast for real with a slashing strike right at the tops of Khalaros' knees.

[Khalaros Lehan]

Khalaros advanced and donned the practice helm and hefted the training sword, noting its balance and weight, then eyed the shield warily.

"If its all the same to you, Warden, I would prefer to forego using the shield at this point. I would assume that the test is to show what skills I have, as much as what I do not...and I will easily confess to ignorance of its proper use."

While he spoke, the blond-haired swordsman stretched a bit, loosening the muscles in his neck and his shoulders. He took a two handed grip on the hilt of the practice weapon, and gave a slight nod to his opponent. Then, as Blacktree began to circle to the left, Khalaros matched his movements as best he could.

Holding his blade before him, he watched the experienced knight with care, trying to anticipate his moves. Again and again Blacktree feinted an attack, to which Khalaros responded by pulling his natural responses, trying not to leave himself open.

He's baiting me. Testing my instincts. I've got to...

Khalaros cut his musings off, cursing inwardly at his own foolishness as the Warden finally attacked with a low lunge for the swordsman's legs.

Quit thinking. Start doing...act without thought like Barrahbus the Mercenary taught you...

Exhaling slightly, Khalaros stepped forward, rather than back from Blacktree's weapon, pivoting slightly on the balls of his feet and moving as best he could inside his opponent's armspan, and away from his weapon.

Grunting with some effort, the Citadel native brought his blade about in his best parrying swing, altering the weapon's arc slightly so the flat of his blade could take the brunt of the Officer's strike. The goal was to not only stop the attack, but to leave one's self open to a riposte or counter attack. Or so the trainer Khalaros's father had hired so long ago had told him.

...granted Barrahbus was usually drunk and out of work.

[Vanadius]

The words of Barrahbus rang true in Khalaros' head, but whatever wisdom that the young warrior had learned at the foot of the drunken swordsman did not quite cover how to deal with someone with the speed and power of the warden.

Khalaros stepped inwards of Blacktree's rush and he could nearly feel the tip of the Warden's blade strike him, but to his credit, he managed to barely evade the strike.

The parrying strike was another matter altogether. The Warden's wooden sword came against the one Khalaros wielded with a crack loud enough to be heard by many in the causeway. It wasn't the sound that was worrisome for the young trainee, it was the the way the impact of it rattled up through his hand into his arm.

With a satisfied grunt, the smaller, more lithe Blacktree danced away with an expression that bordered on a smile. His probing eyes watched Khalaros carefully as he waited for a reply from the younger warrior.

Denbar the Red piped in again.

"Careful Grael! The lad has a dangerous glint in his eye! You might be in for a sore night spent in a hot bath!"

The Warden gave no reply save for his ominous circling and his patient waiting...

[Khalaros Lehan]

Lords above, the man is as quick as a hare and still strong as an ox!

Khalaros felt the Warden's blow all the way up his arm and up to his gritted teeth. His verbal reply was a gutteral "Umph." that more than told the story.

He watched grimly as the confident Knight danced away with a bemused look on his face. Khalaros felt his face flush and he took a couple of steps backward, readjusting his grip on the sword, trying to ignore the yells and chiding from the crowd.

I'll not last long against Blacktree if I simply try to keep fighting defensively. If I am to gain any ground or respect, then I need to take the fight to him!

Blonde hair gleaming slightly in the afternoon sun, Khalaros moved forward towards the Warden, closing the distance and gripping his practice weapon to strike. Exhaling sharply, he lashed out with the sword, aiming his attack for Blacktree's midsection.

[Vanadius]

Khalaros' strike demonstrated the young warrior's strength and youthful speed and perhaps against a lesser opponent it would have been a difficult strike to contend with. But as he had demonstrated time and again, Warden Grael Blacktree was a fearsome warrior to behold.

Veteran of hundreds of battles and a score of dragon hunts, the Warden stepped in to the motion of the younger Khalaros and threw the weight of his shield into the younger man's strike as he made it. Khalaros' hands and wrists jarred against the Warden's shield, and tore the wooden practice weapon from his grip. The lightning fast counterstrike that Blacktree made would have killed Khalaros in an instant were this a true battle with live steel, but to his credit, the Warden's arms cut short what would have been a painful crack across the ribs, and stopped the wooden blade just short so that rested lightly yet alarmingly across the young man's stomach.

"Let's make sure you don't remain ignorant of a shield's use for much longer then." Blacktree said quietly. "Otherwise your name will never be entered into the lists."

There was one other aspirant that tested the Warden's skill, and the older man disarmed him in a similar fashion after a few strikes. Then all eyes turned to the newest member of the crowd, the half giant. Expectantly, the warriors wanted to see if H'saan wanted to test his own mettle here, or if he were he for some other purpose.

[Khalaros Lehan]

Khalaros' face flushed with shame and anger as he took in the Warden's words and stared at the point of contact of Knight's weapon on his stomach. Not a fool, he knew that he had never had a chance of defeating the more experienced man, but still, he had thought he might fare a bit better.

He inhaled sharply and bit back his natural competitive instincts, then exhaled slowly, looked over at the Knight and said simply with a nod, "Thank you, Warden Blacktree. I will do that, sir."

The blond-haired swordsman quietly removed the practice helm and handed both it and the practice sword to the next contestant. Then, without flourish, he returned to the sidelines where Malakhai and H'saan stood.

"So. T'would seem I have quite a bit still to learn, eh?" he said quietly and surprisingly good naturedly as he reached them.

[Malakhai Qinua]

"So it would seem," Malakhai replied with a shrug. Of course he hadn't cared about the blonde-haired man's sparring match as much as he had about his own, but he'd still been watching with interest. He gestured to himself. "This one also has a lot to learn. Perhaps we can learn from each other as well as from the dreshi. You block very well with your blade."

He chuckled lightly. "And both of us gave a better fight than that poor unfortunate who went first. One who calls himself a trainee." Internally Malakhai was, of course, evaluating how he himself would fare against Khalaros. The guarrdi wasn't a shield-user, at least not yet, but likely had strengths he hadn't shown during the practice bout - as Malakhai hoped that he himself did. Regardless, a duel between the two of them would almost certainly be a closer thing than either of them against Blacktree.

"The Warden promised to find us shade and water when he was finished," he added. The desert idiom just slipped off his tongue. "I think he was referring to a drink. Which would be extremely welcome, don't you agree?" He rubbed his aching knee ruefully.

[Khalaros Lehan]

"This one also has a lot to learn. Perhaps we can learn from each other as well as from the dreshi. You block very well with your blade."

Khalaros gave the tribesman a grim smile, "And you dodge even better...Aye, perhaps we could indeed help each other..."

The blonde-haired swordsman gave Malakhai an appraising look, mirroring the tribesman's own thoughts. They would be far more evenly matched in a sparring ring than either of them against the Warden.

Malakhai chuckled lightly. "And both of us gave a better fight than that poor unfortunate who went first. One who calls himself a trainee."

The Citadael native shrugged and chuckled as well, remembering the other trainee's performance. "We could have done worse, true enough."

"The Warden promised to find us shade and water when he was finished," he added. The desert idiom just slipped off his tongue. "I think he was referring to a drink. Which would be extremely welcome, don't you agree?"

"My pride needs to partake of something, even if my thirst had already been quenched...which, by the way, it has not." Khalaros let his gaze wander back to the half-giant H'ssan and the practice circle.

"How do you think our friend there will fare?"

[Vanadius]

OOC: H'saan's player will be away for a bit, so I'll keep things moving and if the player wants their own shot at the Warden, well that can be arranged...

IC:

With the last of the aspirants tested, at least for now, the Warden removed his helmet and his heavy gloves and wiped his balding head with a handkerchief he'd had in one of his pockets.

"Good." He said loud enough for all to hear. "Now then, lets get all the gear put away, and I'll treat you all to a drink at Pete's."

All were expected to help, and any who didn't were stared at by both the short Warden, the tall Commander Lockwood, and the shorter than the Warden Midge, until they did so. Once all the gear was properly put away on various racks and boxes on wheeled carts, and rolled into the barracks, Blacktree signaled for the aspirants to follow him with a wave of his arm.

The aforementioned Pete's was a ramshackle collection of chairs, tables and a low bar in the open air, with some canvas sheeting hung above to protect it from the rain and sun. Nearby, the skeleton of a full sized tavern, still under construction stood. A sign proclaiming the word's
"Pete's Cafe" in big wooden letters sat near the empty, doorless entry to the framework of the building in progress.

The Warden sat with Blacktree and Denbar at a table nearest to the cobbled road, and a man with a worn wooden crutch made his way over to them. From the knee down, there was only an empty pantleg, tied with a bit of cord or a leather thong to keep it from catching or snagging.

"Greetings Commander, Warden." He nodded amiably to the three men. "Seems you got your latest batch of recruits?"

"Aye Pete." The Commander replied. "Would you be so good to get them all a drink? And one for yourself if you care to join us."

"Not a problem Commander. I'll go 'round and get all their orders, and come sit with you a spell."

Pete danced nimbly through the tables, collecting everyone's order. Crutch or no crutch, he easily moved through the maze of tables and chairs with the grace of a man once well used to moving with sure steps and a firm stride. Before long, a young man carrying a large tray with the group's drinks began to help deliver their orders. Last to be served were the Commander and the Warden.

"Drink up all!" Denbar proclaimed loudly, after standing up. He toasted them all with his thick stein of dark ale and drank heartily. Afterwards, he sat down and spoke with Lockwood and Blacktree quietly, leaving the others to their own devices.

[H`saan Alai]

OOC: Oh can it? Well I'm game.

H'saan raised a thick, black brow as all at once, every face in the crowd seemed to turn towards him. Then he realised what was being expected and relaxed, sending a booming laugh out across the courtyard.

"Sir Knights, it is an honour that you would mistake me for one worthy to stand amonst your ranks," he called out, inclining at the waist in a slight bow. "But I am here to stand beside you instead - as a healer, not a fighter. Seneschal Amah has sent me here to speak with Sir Sterling."

"If any man wishes to test his sword against my staff, I would be pleased to meet them after sundown, when the work of the day is done." The half-giant directed a brazen grin at the Warden as he issued the challenge. The men were looking forward to the match, and there was no point in being a bad sport. There would be no better way to gain their friendship and respect than to join them in their trials and duels (and in truth, H'saan was curious to see how he would fare against the compact veteran himself).

"I would beg you to leave your lances in your barracks, however," he added. "I may approach the size of a dragon, but I assure you I am no where near as dangerous."

Having said his piece, he settled back and waited while the trainees tidied up to see if Sterling or anyone else would approach him.

OOC: Side thread?

[Malakhai Qinua]

OOC: Sorry for the delay. It's been a busy few weeks...

"How do you think our friend there will fare?"

Malakhai glanced upwards at the half-giant, black eyebrows raised. "If he fights as well as he.." the desert-dweller began, then trailed off. After a flicker he began again. "If his fighting ability is on a level with his size, then he will be a formidable opponent indeed." He indicated Blacktree. "But then the dreshi is good evidence that the opposite can be true..."

It quickly became clear, however, that the big man wasn't going to fight. Not at that tide, anyway. For a few flickers Malakhai was tempted to put himself forward, but then decided against it. He was the newcomer, and it wouldn't be the done thing. The fear of facing up against someone who stood head and shoulders taller than him didn't play a role, of course. None whatsoever.

With a good will, the tribesman set to putting the equipment away, and then followed the others to Pete's. "Some of your water, if you please," he asked when it was his turn to order. Like most of his people, Malakhai wasn't in the habit of drinking alcohol... it was too dangerous for those who lived amid the sands, where dehydration was a constant threat. He'd sampled weak ale, but it had yet to make its way into his heart.

"This one would be interested to know," he spoke to Khalaros once the toasting was over, "what it is that brings you here? It is my guess that you are here for the same purpose as me," he clarified. "To train as a Dragon Knight. But it is the reasons that interest me."

[Vanadius]

OOC: It seems we have lost yon Khalaros. Would you like to continue here, or perhaps its time to start something new?

[H`saan Alai]

OOC: *shrugs* I'm happy to fudge/fast track the meeting with Sir Sterling if everyone's keen to move on.

[Malakhai Qinua]

OOC: If Khalaros has really gone (:cry:) then it'll be difficult for me to continue here, so I'd be fine with starting something new.

[Vanadius]

Locked, skilled, archived.