Cylus 26 720, ninth break.
Clavam was standing at ease in the training courtyard, chatting with a new arrival by the name of Kurt Vane. The two had gotten on quite well, and it looked like they'd be paired for training given the similarity of their weapons. What was more in doubt, who of them would be doing the training and teaching. Clavam was confident he'd make it a cut over Kurt, and so took it upon himself to size him up before the high mark arrived.
"Think they'll let us out to have a looksee?" Kurt nudged Clavam, while they waited, caring for their equipment.
Clavam drew the sharpening steel across the blade of his short spear, and gave Kurt a shrug. "Doubt it. Campaigns shouldn't start until the ice and snows thaw..."
"I heard them say a ranging party set out, to pursue a bunch of hostile prospectors. So why not send us along with them?"
Clavam stopped what he was doing, to give the former burglar a pointed look, "They haven't broken us yet, is why. Give it a season, of eating pottage and peas, and getting your ass kicked halfway across the forbidden spit everyday. Then, maybe they'll let us go with the others. Till then, we'd just blow their approach on those prospectors."
Kurt smirked, and shrugged, "I don't know. I can be pretty sneaky and light on my feet."
"For a man your age..." Clavam muttered with a chuckle. Kurt might've heard, but he didn't say anything.
The highmark came up to the courtyard, out of the undercroft leading from where the barracks were held. Her stern face and stiff posture informed them of her attitude. And if that didn't do the trick, her scathing voice did the trick.
"Listen up!" Nall, the highmark of their little band, was to brief Clavam and his unit on what was to be done today. But not before she gave them a good dressing down. "I've never seen such a sorry state of new recruits in all my life on the Post. Get up get up! Off your arses, and stand in line."
What could they do? The five of them, Kurt, Dock, Leronis, and Clavam clambered to thier feet, placing their weapons by their sides, and shield on the offhand (if they had one). Kurt, for his part, only wielded a long spear.
Nall Waller walked down the line, staring at the four of them, separated at any point by less than a foot from her scowling face. Kurt was used to this routine, but some of the others were new to military discipline. Kurt was a 'parolee' from the dungeons of Etzos, only recently released after a ten year sentence. Leronis was a housewife and murderess of her husband, who was set to hang before someone spoke out on her behalf. Dock was a engineering student from the academy, who swore up and down that he was innocent. Of what, he never seemed to say, as if mention of the crime would make it true.
Whatever may come, they were here now. And it was time to whip the lower classmen into shape. So it would be.
She gave them a good tongue lashing, through which the specifics of what she was saying were lost on Clavam (much of her speech being in Ith'ession). Once she had exhausted every angry breath in her lungs, she stood at the front of the line, and shouted once, "Pair up, maggots! No not you Mark Massey, you're over near the ranges to work on your crossbow cranking times. Mark Lenderly, you're with me! The rest of you, find a partner or march west for your long overdue hanging!"
Highmark Waller took Lenderly aside, and began sparring with her, sword and shield versus club and shield.
Not much wanting to watch that spot of butchery, Clavam turned to Kurt. "Let's get on with it then, you ever fought with a stick like that?"
"Are you kidding? I invented the vaulting racket, using sticks to push myself into windows for fetching precious items. Think I can handle my way around a spear..."
Clavam gave him a twisted smirk, and shrugged. "We'll see."
Kurt held his weapon in two hands, unlike Clavam's one handed grip. There were advantages to the two handed grip. One being that he could feint and misdirect with his attacks. Another was the fact that the weapon he could wield was longer.
They began their sparring match with a measure of caution, each one testing encroachments upon the other's territory. Clavam had an obvious advantage in the fact that he wielded a shield. Yet even so, he had to be wary once entering the measure of Kurt's spear. One wrong move, a premature lowering of the shield could see him with the business point of the spear in his eye.
Kurt for his part tapped the blade of his spear against Clavam's leather shield, not commiting full force. That was smart of him, the cursed soldier thought. He was aware of the pitfall of getting his spear stuck in the shield. For that, Clavam gave him the respectful distance he deserved.
Nall stopped what she was doing with Mark Lenderly, and shouted over toward the two, "Stop fondling each other and fight! Fight like you'll die if you don't put the other down in fifteen seconds!"
That was an interesting way of putting it, Clavam tucked it away for his own training sessions. Unfortunately, his reverence for the Highmark's advice overrode his awareness of his opponent. Kurt came forward, the tip of his spear angling to the inside of Clavam's shieldarm. Clavam batted the blade aside, only for Kurt to reverse the grip on his spear, and bring the butt of the shaft around to try and trip Clavam's left foot.
Clavam rested his weight on his right foot, letting the shaft bounce off his ankle, a solid hit. He grimaced at the impact, but didn't stop. It wasn't a fatal hit, and he hadn't brought him to ground.
Clavam instead led with his shield, pinning Kurt's spear against the burglar's body. Then with a high guard thrust of his spear, sent the point of his spear over his own shield and into the other man's shoulder, nicking his leather pauldron.
A peal of sardonic laughter erupted from Nall's position, as she was distracted by their fighting. Apparently the highmark was not impressed. That suited Clavam fine. Let her underestimate him. He'd take her place in time.
Using the frustration of the moment, and the added scrutiny of Highmark Nall Waller, he pressed his attack on Kurt. He pushed with the shield after withdrawing his spear arm, and kneed the man in the abdomen. With each step, he pressed his attack. When Kurt tumbled and rolled backward, Clavam set himself low, ready for the spear thrust that would inevitably come. Just as he expected, the point arrived about an inch over his shield. Clavam deflected it, for a moment presenting a blindspot.
Just a moment that was enough for Kurt to draw the spear under, and attack his left knee. The cut didn't pierce his armor, but Clavam could still feel it ripping the fragile threads holding the greaves together.
"Fuck..." Clavam spat, knocking the spear aside with his shield, once it'd recovered to the center position. Rather than wait for another attack, he closed the distance, past the point of the spear's attack range. But Kurt knew well how to use a staff, and when you moved past a spear's point of attack, it ceased to be a spear. It became a staff, just as Clavam had discovered with the sweep against his ankle moments before.
Gripping his spear in a couched position, to give himself some leverage, Clavam swept it behind his opponent's left leg, as he pushed iwth his shield. Now it was Kurt's turn to take a point. The ex-burglar went to the ground. Of course, an agile man like Kurt wasn't one to stick on the ground for long, and twisted his torso as he shortened his grip on his spear. He pivoted and sent the point toward Clavam's midsection.
Clavam parried once more with his shield, and using his shortspear as a single stick, rapped against Kurt's wrist, causing his grip to loosen. A simple low kick was all that was needed then to disarm the man, as he knelt on the ground. Finally, he pushed the point of his spear against his sparring opponent. He'd won!
Albeit a messy victory, but still...
"Good goin'." Kurt complimented Clavam, as the soldier offered his hand to his sparring partner. The soldier pulled him up off the ground, and slipped the sling of his shield over his shoulder. They were both a bit winded from their match.
"Thanks... You're not half bad with a spear..."
"Stop yer kissing lovebirds, and get back to the yard! If I catch your poncy mouths whispering sweet nothings ONE MORE TIME, I'll fuckin' send you packing back to the gallows that waits for you in the city! Get back to training!"
Thus, they resumed their combat, well into the midday breaks.
