• Memory • Blood and Sand

[Malcolm]

12 Ymiden 715

Benjamin charged at the man as Malcolm braced for impact, moving aside just as his training partner slammed into his raised shield, causing his whole body to shudder as the force of the impact rocked them both, their iron shields ringing. A clash of swords saw them at each other's throats once again and from the sidelines the rest of their crew cheered and shouted words of encouragement. Malcolm may have bested Benjamin in terms of height, but the younger male was built a lot tougher and had the muscle to back up such bold moves. He pushed his captain aside as if it gave him no trouble at all and Malcolm realised he would have to be crafty to take down the man proving to be the strongest opponent he had faced today.
The warm, white sand of the fighting arena was the perfect place for them to practice with shield and sword, and though Benjamin insisted that his round shield was better than the make and shape of Malcolm's own, the two seemed evenly matched, struggling to bypass the other's defences. Benjamin cut low and went for the knees, a move easily blocked by the captain as he tipped his shield down and swung his sword overhead, this countered by his opponent who was proving difficult to outsmart. Lifting his shield once more, Malcolm was able to knock Benjamin's sword arm and sweep his long sword towards the man's side, only to be met by a wall of iron shield.
It was then Malcolm decided to introduce a third element and stepped back to bring his foot up and kick at the man's shield, forcing him to fumble backwards, allowing Malcolm to gain ground and land a few, cheeky swings Benjamin had no option but to block with his shield.
"You are lucky I didn't take your leg off!" Benjamin offered breathlessly.
"Promises, promises!" Malcolm jested.
"Shut up and fight me!" Benjamin hissed, bringing his sword down swiftly to force Malcolm to block before he swept the captain's feet out from under him with an unexpected kick.
On his back in the sand, Benjamin held the tip of his sword to Malcolm's breast and smirked. "You were saying?"

[Malcolm]

Malcolm turned his head, raised his shield quickly to knock the man's sword aside and slapped Benjamin's leg with the flat edge of his sword to show him where he could have easily managed to part flesh from bone. A low blow finished the lesson, with the captain seeing to it that the toe of his boot drove pain home, right between Benjamin's legs. The big guy stumbled, hopped forwards and tipped over like a freshly felled tree, sword abandoned to the sand, while his shield remained strapped to his arm.
"You were saying?" Malcolm echoed, and Benjamin, ever the good sport, managed to laugh.
"You fight dirty!"
"Fighting fair is for men who lead very short lives," the captain smiled and offered the man a hand up.
"You know I'll remember this for next time?"
"Counting on it," Malcolm smirked.

Undefeated, Malcolm was to face off against Heath next, who had proved formidable outside of the city walls while on patrol, cutting bandits down as if he had been doing it all his life. The Mortalborn liked to think that he was a little more skilled than a bandit and had a bit more experience to offer. Stood across from Heath, who looked ready to go twelve rounds, Malcolm's shoulder reminded him that he wasn't getting any younger, and that perhaps this should be his last match for the day.
Heath swung his sword around which made him appear cocky and arrogant, and Malcolm knew he would have to be careful, as there was no doubt in his mind that Heath was willing to make a name for himself as the first of their team to draw blood this day. Carefully, the two of them circled, watching each other like sharks, eager to land the first bite. Heath charged and Malcolm, preferring to save his energy, let the man come to him. As they met in closed ranged combat, Heather managed to lock his shield with the Mortalborn's seeing to it that he must defend with his sword or pay the price, all the while trying to pull himself free of the skilful hold. Their comrades shouted and balled their fists, hoping that Heath would get the better of their commanding officer.
Malcolm swung his sword up to block a high attack and shifted the hilt by driving his hand forwards into Heath's face, a move that saw him released from the man's hold. Heath looked surprised to find no blood when he wiped his nose with the back of his hand and charged again, but this time Malcolm had been expecting the move, having angered the bull, and swung low in order to force Heath to block at the last second while the captain then slammed him in the side with the face of his shield, knocking his opponent backwards.

[Malcolm]

Heath recovered quickly and ran at the man again, head on like a young, untrained squire. Malcolm was able to step aside and belt the man across the back with the flat edge of his sword, as he had done with many of his recruits already today. Heath hissed and turned to swing at the man, their swords meeting as Malcolm moved to block. He caught the next swing against his shield and then tried to employ the same swift movement Benjamin had used on him, attempting to sweep Heath's feet out from under him with little reward. Heath was still too fresh and prepared mentally to deal with sly moves like that.
"Go for his side, Heath!" Benjamin called from the sideline. "Stop attacking like a child!"

Though the words saw Malcolm laugh, Heath didn't seem quite as amused and increased the speed of his attacks, swinging relentlessly at the captain's shield, leaving it marked and scratched with lines he wouldn't be able to polish out, wearing down the Krom Wolf sigil on the front. Malcolm fought back, ramming the man with his shield so that his opponent's sword became trapped between the two walls of iron, leaving him open to other kinds of that physical attacks, like the head-butt Malcolm delivered him, causing them to both take a step backwards, helmets ringing.
After some pause, Heath removed his helmet and tossed it aside, the action mirrored by Malcolm, he wasn't above keeping the playing field even, for the most part, the faces of their helmets had been open after all, and no one was intent on doing any beheading today. This time when Heath attacked, his moves were better planned and he managed to sidestep the captain, shoving him in the side with his shield as a warning.
"The next time it will be my sword," he threatened.
"There won't be a next time," came Malcolm's retort, "not if you keep telling me what you're planning to do!"

The captain blocked with his long sword then stabbed at Heath's side only to be outdone again. He raised his shield to block this time and turned around to swing at Heath's side, landing a hit against the plate metal of the man's chest piece, only to be knocked between the shoulders with the pommel. As their swords meet again, both men's fingers were saved by their cross-guards, and they pushed each other backwards, taking a moment to catch their breath.

[Malcolm]

The noonday sun was hot on their backs and faces and Malcolm wasn't sure how much more of this he could take. Fighting bandits in the woods was one thing, going against opponent after opponent of skilfully trained knights some something else completely. The captain did his best to straighten up, ignore the throbbing pain in his left shoulder, and wiped his sweaty brow on the black leather cuff wound about his wrist. "What's got you panting?" He smirked at Heath. "I just went five rounds and you're on your knees after one?"
Heath spat. "Just warming up, cap."

Malcolm opened his mouth to speak, but just as quickly as the words formed in his mind, were they given cause to flee again, Heath rushed at him, sword raised. Shocked, Malcolm was forced to act fast, taking an unplanned step backwards as he lifted his shield and the force of the impact put him on his back on the arena floor. Malcolm dug his foot into the sand to turn his body so that he could swing at Heath's legs, driving his opponent backwards in order to buy himself some room and attempt standing, all the while looking to see where the next swing of Heath's sword would land so that he could counter it with his own shield or weapon.
The rest of the crew had fallen silent, anticipating the worst while hoping for an interesting outcome, one that saw that Heath be made victor, though Malcolm wouldn't give up the title so easily. On his feet again, the Mortalborn brushed some of the sand from his side with closed fist and fixed his fighting stance to a more defensive position, ready for the next wave, but Heath did not charge at him, instead willing the captain to come to him.
"Final round," Malcolm told him. "Whoever draws blood first will be the winner."
"Get ready to bleed, captain."
Malcolm only grinned.

[Malcolm]

Their swords danced, an elegant meet and greet, both knowing their parts well in this display, every step foreseen before it was taken. The sound of steel swords clashing rang out in the arena, glancing one another with skilful precision. Heath thrust his sword forwards in an attempt to puncture Malcolm's arm, but the Mortalborn turned aside, ducking out of the way of the oncoming attack before swords met again. They moved in circles, aggression met with wall of shield, the plate of shaped iron sitting heavy on the captain's arm. He lifted it once more to block an attack from Heath before his counterpart pulled away and threw down his shield, watching for Malcolm to do the same.
Game, Malcolm too tossed his shield aside and felt naked faced with his opponents drilling stare. Heath lunged forwards and the fight was on again, with confidence stripped, there was something strangely comfortable about fighting with a shield, like having a second skin, one that made him feel closer to a god than a mortal man. His long sword still offered some advantage over that which he had lost, with both men equal in high and stature. Heath fought with a gladius today, a fine sword in and of itself, but much shorter than the blade in Malcolm's grasp, meant that the man couldn't get as close, or would have to risk more in doing so.
It was the pace at which the fight continued that would lead to Malcolm's inevitable defeat, after going so many rounds, his stamina was wearing thin, and the pain of his old shoulder injury was only intensifying with every clash, block, and forced movement. It was a quick, and somehow slow display, as if time had slowed down for them, while to any onlooker the fight appeared to have played out quickly. When Heath finally drew blood, it was with the butt of his pommel, struck hard at against the Mortalborn's mouth. Malcolm tongued the cut on his lower lip and smirked.
"I didn't want to ruin your new tabard," Heath grinned a smug little smile that the captain was tempted to wipe off his face.
"Appreciated," come his quick lipped retort. "How thoughtful."

The rest of the crew congratulated them both and though Heath had been the winner, Malcolm was not made to feel any less than such by his party. After picking up their shields and cleaning off their weaponry, the crew took to the streets, headed for the local tavern to celebrate their efforts over a mug of ale and some good humoured banter.

[Griffin]

Thank you Kingdom!

Malcolm

Skills
Shielded Combat: 5
Strength: 1
Endurance: 3
Blades/Longsword: 5
Tactics: 2
Unarmed: 2
Intimidation: 1


Basic Knowledge
Heath Lane: Determined to beat you
Heath Lane: Anger gets the better of him
Benjamin: Stronger than you
Blades: Hilt as a weapon
Blades: Importance of staying balanced

Specialized Knowledge
Tactics: Fight with everything you've got
Tactics: Fighting fair is for men with short lives
Unarmed: Headbutt as a last resort

Wounds etc, although less relevant for a memory.
Bruises on your back for two trials. General aches and pains for ten trials and a bloody lip for the same length of time. Malcolm should consider seeking regular help with the shoulder injury to loosen the tension.

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Notes

I enjoyed this thread and the interaction with the NPC's throughout all the threads they're developing unique voices and input to create a cohesive group. The action was well interspersed with reactions and commentary from Malcolm and his competitors. It was hard not to awards another knowledge of 'quit when you're ahead'! As it seems to be developing into a character trait for Malcolm!