Saturday, October 27, 2018

Master of Strings Ch58: Formal Combat

Alaroc swayed as he gulped down some ale from his flask. The Knight he faced shook under his plate and just as Alaroc finished wiping his chin, the Knight stopped, scoffed, and shouted to the drunk.

"You can barely stand, you degenerate! You'd be better off surrendering now, before I hurt you."

Alaroc fell back off his feet with a strong belly laugh and leaned up on his arms saying,"Oooooooo, lookie here folks! Got ourselves a upright proper gentlemen! Well, take your niceties and stick it where even Layis won't go."

The Knight readied his shield and sword with his teeth grinding, he let out a resolved response, "It may be against my code to harm the helpless, but so long as you stand, I'd say no amount of intoxication lets you count as so."

Alaroc stands at that and tilts his head, staring off into space as the Knight charges in. The Knight leads with the shield up and out with his sword raised and ready to swipe at an opening, but Alaroc simply back pedaled, his weapon still sheathed.

The Knight kept on him as Alaroc continued back, just out of reach of the Knight's swings. Alaroc's stare is still up and away, but breaks as Alaroc finally snaps out his blade and with a two handed hook and jolt, he knocks away the Knight's shield and with the momentum spins back and kicks him on the backspin in the center of his stomach.

The Knight staggers back as Alaroc twirls his blade and says, "Okay, so I'm helpless from being drunk, that's what you mean. Well sorry to break it to you good sir, but a bit of ale has never stopped my edge from swinging true."

The Knight recovers his stance as Alaroc rushes in and quickly ducks to one side before snapping back to the front in a Feint. The armor clad man couldn't keep a solid view on Alaroc with his narrow helmet and Alaroc flashed his blade into the Knight's side, only to have it slide right off the thick armor.

Before the Knight could strike at the mount-less Cavalier, our hero hopped back out of range. The Knight clanged his sword against his chest plate and returned to position. Alaroc's eyes and legs wobbled a bit as he tried to focus in on the Knight. Before he could solidify his stance the Knight came back in at him, but Alaroc snapped up his blade and deflected a downward slash.

The two exchanged a series of swings, with Alaroc unable to get an attack in around the Knight's shield and needing to continue to feint, but at every turn the plate was just too thick for Alaroc's blade to do anything. Luckily for him, the Knight was far too slow, weight down by his armor, and Alaroc's armor-less frame continued to stay just a bit out of reach.

The man in the fighters' section with the over-sized blade chuckled at the fight saying, "He'll never get anywhere like that. Running away is a coward's game!"

"I wouldn't be so sure." Responded Cruxis from the other side. Young man turned and joked off the paladin's remark.

"Oh please, look at that armor, your friend's blade can't do a thing."

"Silence boy, you know nothing of what the man does." Remarks the peasant with the waveblade, not breaking his gaze from the movements of Alaroc.

Back in the arena both Alaroc and the Knight are breathing a bit heavier. The Knight smiles beneath his helm, knowing that Alaroc is no closer to shattering his defense as he was in the beginning, but slowly and surely his blade is getting closer to the drunk as the fight moves forward.

The knight spies at Alaroc who holds his blade aloft, and mutters something while he stares at it. The Knight shouts back,"For the sake of the Gods, speak clearly when you address a Knight of Deneval. What did you say!?"

"I said sorry about this. This won't feel very pleasant."

The Knight tilts his head curiously as Alaroc's breath steadies and he Charges in and leaps up. The Knight had plenty of time to raise up his shield, expecting the blow to glance off, but to his shot he felt his arm tense up like it just stopped the weight of a boulder. the blow threw him off and his counter swing was delayed long enough for Alaroc to touch back down and duck out of the Knight's view.

The Knight expected an attack from his right where his sword was, but the moment his shield arm began to regain feeling, he felt another heavy impact on it, slightly to it's right, forcing it to buckle in on the Knight's arm and into the Knight's chest.

In an instant Alaroc was back in his view and hopping about 2 meter back, before kicking off the ground and laying in another arm crushing blow. Alaroc's movements were too quick for the Knight to follow, and he would need to just allow the assault to continue until he got an opportunity.

He was confident that his armor could take any strikes from the opponent, but after another few strikes the Knight picked out something strange. Alaroc was focused on his left side, specifically his shield. From the few movements he could pick out, the Knight gazed upon Alaroc's blade a bit closer and saw in an instant what the Cavalier planned, but his armor restricted him from halting the assault.

The Knight's left arm had gone fully numb and suddenly he heard the sound of metal shattering, and he saw pieces of his sundered shield pass his view. A split second afterward the Knight felt a similar sort of impact crash into the left side of his head, sending the Knight sprawling off to the right a few meters trying to keep his torso above his feet.

The Knight failed and fell to his hands and knees, his head ringing and his eyesight shifting between colors of black, grey, brown, and a bit of green. The Knight could feel his head pulsing with his heart, begging to be freed, but all that feeling left immediately as the Knight's stomach acted independently and he let loose the contents he had eaten back in the dining area.

Alaroc looked at the Knight fall further to the ground, letting loose his blade grip to rip off his helmet and be freed of the container he was trapped in. Alaroc smiled and spun his blade's body 90 degrees to place the sharp end back forward and not the blade's flat edge as he had swung with.

"That armor of your's is well crafted to be sure, but it does far more than weigh you down, it makes head blows total nightmares. Trust me, I know." Says Alaroc as he knocks on his own helmet. The Knight attempts to stand, now wobbling even more than Alaroc. He wipes his face of his former meal and shakes his head to snap back into the fight.

His autumn brown hair, short beard, and pale green eyes were now shown to the light of day. The Knight looks to the ground to see his shield busted into fragments and he glares at the smiling Alaroc. He kneels down to retrieve his helmet, but Alaroc shouts,

"Keep it off! We both know you got the sight of a Grimlock long as you keep it on." The Knight hesitates as he stares at Alaroc who lets out a sigh and says, "I promise on my Mother's grave, I'll not strike above your shoulders."

The Knight stood still for a few moments, but leaves his helmet behind and grips his blade in his hand. He notices for a moment that he puts his left arm forward, ghosting his shield, before laying both hands on his blade, and waits.

Alaroc flicks his blade back up and moves in slowly. The two meet about a 2 meters away and slowly begin to exchange attacks. They kept pace going back and forth connecting and deflecting the blades blow for blow. They began to slowly pick up the speed as the two men continued to match each other.

The exchange is choreographed and calculated. Each attack after attack seen, stopped, and returned. The two continue to speed up, waiting for the other to falter, both warriors tired, but determined. In a flash, a longsword is sent flipping into the air and clattered to the ground.

The crowd explodes as they frenzy around the arena. The two warriors stand, with Alaroc holding the tip of his blade to the Knight's person. The Knight falls to his knees and says, "I have lost sir. You are my better, I have no doubts. I will die at peace and with my dignity, as is requested of a Knight of De-"

The Knight is cut off by Alaroc's blade crashing into the Knight's arm. The knight falls to the side and then sits back up, with a confused look on his face. Alaroc examines his own blade and says, "Yep, that armor is still too thick for me, looks like I'll have to let you live."

Alaroc sheathes his blade and brings his flask to his lips, but before he leans back his helm and begins to drink, he offers some to the knight and says, "After all, I swore not to strike above your head. Rest of you wouldn't allow for a killing swing."

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