Post by journeycat on Feb 1, 2010 15:23:32 GMT 10
Title: Damsel in Distress
Rating: PG
Length: 523 words
Competitor: Wyldon
Round/Fight: 1/A
Summary: Wyldon and Dom spar. Of course, Wyldon wins, and he wins more than just the match.
----
The knight parried the thrust easily, sweeping down with his sword and narrowly missing the other man’s hand. The man quickly sidestepped and swung his sword in an arc, aiming for the gut. The knight blocked it, and then slid a hip into the man’s belly, putting his person too close to his to allow for any sort of counterattack. The man went off-balanced and left a very brief vulnerable window—but that second was all the knight needed. He seized the opportunity and in one swift movement, the man went down with a sword at his throat.
“I yield,” Domitan said finally, holding his hands up in surrender. “You fight like a demon, milord Cavall.”
Wyldon sheathed his sword and didn’t reply. He knew it was poor manners and an even poorer display of honor, but he couldn’t help it. He didn’t trust those blue eyes that watched women like a wolf watched a sheep, and he certainly didn’t like those roaming hands that knew many a skirt (and underneath it). He told himself it was because he was imagining that dark-haired charmer fondling one of his own daughters in a stable loft, but he knew he was just duping himself in face of a deeper truth.
“Kel said I was a fool for wanting to try my skill against you,” Domitan continued. Was that a challenge in his eyes? Was that smile as pleasant as it appeared, or did it look more like a smirk? “I guess I got a little cocky.”
“Perhaps,” Wyldon said coolly. And then, because he just didn’t have it in him to be rude to others, he allowed, “You weren’t bad, of course. Just work on your shield arm and that uppercut, and I think you’ll be a worthy opponent for any man.”
Domitan bowed politely. “Thank you, sir. I’ll be sure to take your suggestions seriously. I’m sure I can get someone from the Own or Sir Raoul or Kel to help me.”
Wyldon found himself bristling, though he fought it. He didn’t like the way the boy threw Keladry’s name around so casually; she was a lady knight, so she should at least be called Lady Knight Kel, surely.
“In fact,” the sergeant said, brightening, “I think I’ll go find Kel now—I bet she’ll enjoy a spar. Thank you again, sir.”
Wyldon watched his retreating back. Domitan whistled as he strode away. Impulsively, he swung around and searched the small crowd of impressed pages.
“You,” he snapped to one. “Fetch Lady Knight Keladry and send her to my study immediately.”
The page snapped to attention and said, “Yes, milord. What should I tell her?”
His mind went totally blank. He flipped rapidly through a series of excuses, each more vapid than another, before saying lamely, “Just tell her we should go over reports from New Hope. And then we can both get some much needed exercise and spar afterwards.”
The page sprinted away, his mouth silently reciting the message to himself. Relieved, Wyldon began to make his way to the door. He had to meet Keladry in his study, after all.
Rating: PG
Length: 523 words
Competitor: Wyldon
Round/Fight: 1/A
Summary: Wyldon and Dom spar. Of course, Wyldon wins, and he wins more than just the match.
----
The knight parried the thrust easily, sweeping down with his sword and narrowly missing the other man’s hand. The man quickly sidestepped and swung his sword in an arc, aiming for the gut. The knight blocked it, and then slid a hip into the man’s belly, putting his person too close to his to allow for any sort of counterattack. The man went off-balanced and left a very brief vulnerable window—but that second was all the knight needed. He seized the opportunity and in one swift movement, the man went down with a sword at his throat.
“I yield,” Domitan said finally, holding his hands up in surrender. “You fight like a demon, milord Cavall.”
Wyldon sheathed his sword and didn’t reply. He knew it was poor manners and an even poorer display of honor, but he couldn’t help it. He didn’t trust those blue eyes that watched women like a wolf watched a sheep, and he certainly didn’t like those roaming hands that knew many a skirt (and underneath it). He told himself it was because he was imagining that dark-haired charmer fondling one of his own daughters in a stable loft, but he knew he was just duping himself in face of a deeper truth.
“Kel said I was a fool for wanting to try my skill against you,” Domitan continued. Was that a challenge in his eyes? Was that smile as pleasant as it appeared, or did it look more like a smirk? “I guess I got a little cocky.”
“Perhaps,” Wyldon said coolly. And then, because he just didn’t have it in him to be rude to others, he allowed, “You weren’t bad, of course. Just work on your shield arm and that uppercut, and I think you’ll be a worthy opponent for any man.”
Domitan bowed politely. “Thank you, sir. I’ll be sure to take your suggestions seriously. I’m sure I can get someone from the Own or Sir Raoul or Kel to help me.”
Wyldon found himself bristling, though he fought it. He didn’t like the way the boy threw Keladry’s name around so casually; she was a lady knight, so she should at least be called Lady Knight Kel, surely.
“In fact,” the sergeant said, brightening, “I think I’ll go find Kel now—I bet she’ll enjoy a spar. Thank you again, sir.”
Wyldon watched his retreating back. Domitan whistled as he strode away. Impulsively, he swung around and searched the small crowd of impressed pages.
“You,” he snapped to one. “Fetch Lady Knight Keladry and send her to my study immediately.”
The page snapped to attention and said, “Yes, milord. What should I tell her?”
His mind went totally blank. He flipped rapidly through a series of excuses, each more vapid than another, before saying lamely, “Just tell her we should go over reports from New Hope. And then we can both get some much needed exercise and spar afterwards.”
The page sprinted away, his mouth silently reciting the message to himself. Relieved, Wyldon began to make his way to the door. He had to meet Keladry in his study, after all.