Darkenhold: Social Climbing through Competitive Swordsplay

[Vanidor]

"You will note that I said this sort of thing. There is a time and place for things. But getting caught up in the moment when it comes to combat can be dangerous." He continued to push. That curving sword of his licking forwards like the tongue of some annoyed drake. It was thrust and then twist of the wrist to thrust again, this time from another angle.

Perhaps Glenn could see it. Burel was generally being easy with this. Oh, certainly he made a few vicious cuts now and again, some fast attacks once in a while, but it was more the simple joy of getting to exercise with someone who was [i[not[/i] bound to him by oaths and feudal loyalty. This was just two men, one could say, working their way around the practice circle.

It was one of the reasons he had not done anything truly unorthodox yet. Surely, some of his moves were a bit different. His sword did have that curve to it, and the grip as well. It made for interesting handling of the weapon, surely enough. But that handle was well worn by his hand, the leather showing the marks of constant use, the guard scratched and cut in a few places where it had protected his hand from injury. The blade itself was pristine, barely a mark upon it, even from the duel so far. What did that say of the man?

"As for Agnieszka, the duel took us a while. You see... As much as I deny emotion within the fight, striving to find the void that exists within to deal with the trouble without... There is some fun in this, you know. Especially when it is someone I had not had the chance to cross blades with before." The Duke smiled slightly, his mismatched eyes almost seemed to twinkle. "Not everything about me is conquest, Mapmaker. Though, thanks to my time growing up with the dwarves, I do get a little... rowdy." Ah, and the smile that filtered next was quite wide, sparkling perhaps. Certainly genuine.

[Glenn]

"Oh yes, it's obviously best to make decisions affecting the lives of thousands based on emotion. Just make sure you don't let it sneak into your swordfighting." Glenn was able to manage a bit of sarcasm now. He was comfortable with their rhythm. Things had slowed down enough that it was apparent the mapmaker had intended to make something worthwhile out of this exercise... well something worthwhile other than just stabbing Burel through the chest.

In truth, Glenn was waiting to see some of the unorthodox style he had heard about. He wouldn't wait forever, though. He was different with sword in hand, trained, patient. Ariane had beaten it into him but the results were worth it. Glenn would continue to feint, continue to parry, choosing his moment and keeping Burel doing much of the hard work in the meantime.

It was a testament to his training that he didn't slip when Burel revealed that bit about you. "Dwarves?" He would allow but no more. They'd talk about that, AFTER this. He wouldn't ask a thousand questions now. He wouldn't be so distracted. No, instead, Glenn would shift it back to banter. "So does that explain the height, then? You didn't want to insult them." It was banter, but tamer than what he might have said about the man's mother instead.

[Vanidor]

"Something along those lines. I remember my father saying that he thought my mother had a little dwarf in her. She was a handsome woman, if memory serves, but a bit more solid than you would suspect." He winked. WINKED! Burel really did have a strange sense of humour, but then a man who ruled a nation like Thessilane... Well, probably should have. Especially if you considered Ariane one of your better friends.

"So, Glenn. How long were you going to let me do everything? I know Ariane taught you how to fight. Your form is excellent. Footwork masterful." It really was. Ariane had taught him well, that was certain. And his other exploits on the streets had hardened the lessons. That he could see. The motion of his arm didn't change, continuing to swing that heavy bladed weapon as if it were made of lightweight sticks.

Then, finally, he changed the tempo. A little faster, the blade danced downwards to cut at Glenn's knees. Wanted to dart for the man's torso. His wrist was in motion to change the direction of the point, right, left, up, left, before a short thrust once again. Was he aiming to drive Glenn back and give himself more space? He could use it, with the general length of that weapon. But then again, Glenn's rapier could use it also, couldn't he?

[Glenn]

Glenn, to his credit, at least in his own mind, would only wink during a swordsfight when fighting a woman. Anyway, considering Ariane one of your closest friends had inherint risks all their own. That they both shouldered such a rewarding burden should have given them a bond. Maybe Burnie was a bit hesitant to grasp such a thing.

"I will do my best not to suspect how solid your mother was, one way or the other. I suggest you do the same. People will talk."

Ah, but now Glenn had to work a bit. "I simply wish to be impressed, sir." Oh, yes. He said that the moment that the man picked up the tempo. While he didn't have anything to prove when it came to Burel, he did have something to establish when it came to the narrative of the spar itself.

Burel attempted a more brutal attack and Glenn would return it not with a parry but with metal meeting metal. Again, it wasn't putting him in any particular danger, out of position in any real way, though it was commiting himself more than a simple parry would.

What it was doing was refusing to give Burel that space, to show that Glenn would not be bullied. In truth, he was trying to get Burel to commit even more, though he did want to see what the man's style would look like, fully unveiled "..and I am still waiting." The last words were said through slightly grit teeth, though without any rancor. He was enjoying this as well, perhaps just enjoying being in this room once more.

[Vanidor]

"Balls, Glenn! I knew you had them, eh." There was a sort of amusement in the way he said that. A strange manner in which the joy filtered across the void he had implanted within himself. "You wish to see something then. I can only guess that Ariane said that I do not fight like most others do?"

With that scree of metal against metal, Burel smiled once more. "I have naught to prove in the sparring ring, my friend. But if you wish to see... So be it then, yes?" His grip on the hilt of his sword changed slightly. A little loose, but enough to keep the hold. It was like holding onto a bird, enough grip to keep it from flying away, but not enough to crush it in your grasp. His blade work became faster here, with this.

Nothing truly vicious, not yet, but quick. He didn't mind the work, really. Even if his breathing finally increased a small notch, his shoulders enjoyed the burning sensations. But. Here it was. A few feints towards Glenn's left. One to the right side of his torso... and then. A direct lunge for his face. It was all done within seconds of one another. With pure economy of motion.

[Glenn]

"Perhaps she told me not to antagonize you, too, perhaps not. Either way, she's not here now and I trust you won't tell if I do." Some people, perhaps even Ariane, might be confused by the fact her opinion still mattered so, but while he had nothing to prove to Burel, he was glad to prove himself day in and day out to his teacher, whether she was there or not, whether they were even talking.

"Hell, Burel. To spar with you and not see your style would be like going to Golben and not seeing the crater." And here it came. What the hell was the Duke doing holding it like that? There was unorthadox and then there was just downright foolish. He would fight the urge to try to knock the sword out of the older man's hand though. Everyone probably tried that and obviously it didn't work, or else he wouldn't be still be alive now.

The sword came towards his face and Glenn would get his sword there to parry in time but not with the casual playfulness which he was had been using before. This was a quick soldierly motion and it came just in time. Burel's sword would be redirected if possible, and then, despite all of what Glenn had said, despite wanting to see Burel in action, despite the opening being less lucrative than before... this was the time to strike.

There was no feint this time, but a continuation of his parrying blade into a downwards attack towards Burel's chest, meaning to push him back. Now that Burel's style was awakened, Glenn meant to press forward and take the offensive.

[Vanidor]

Ah, and there it was. And here came his counter. The other arm that had, for so long, been dormant and holding onto his scabbard swept upwards as his attacking arm withdrew. Effectively the maneuver was to drive the rapier up, as the rest of him dropped to present a lower profile. As much as he suggested that he wished Glenn to attack, he'd not allow it if it was possible.

A step forward, that scabbard still before him and the sword to his rear. The scabbard batted at Glenn, first to aim at his shoulders, then to arms. Either or, it was an attempt to confuse him with the rapidity of it. None of the blows would really come to contact, at least if the other man was swift enough in avoiding them.

But balance? Ah, here was the key.

[Glenn]

There are some things that organized training simply cannot prepare you for. Constant batting with a scabbard in the midst of a sparring session was absolutely one of them. In the midst of newer reflexes showing their worth, some old ones snuck in. The fusion of the two meant that Glenn was able to dodge most of the blows. "Raised by teachers, schoolmarms. New career for you?" As if that, spoken hurriedly in the midst of the assault, would explain his unique agility when it came to not getting batted. Unfortunately, Burel's antics had prevented him from taking the offensive this time around. He could keep his balance but only while switching back to the defensive. There would be more opportunities.

For now, though, Glenn's free hand found its purpose, drawing his fencing dagger the sort of which that Ariane and her students used in tandem with their rapiers. "This means war, then." Escalation, at least. Anyway, if he had a choice, young Burnie would take dagger over scabbard anyday.

[Vanidor]

"Hah! My teachers were afraid of my father, they never tried to set me to straight." Here Glenn was going for his dagger, and that scabbard slapped downwards as if to prevent it. At the same time, he made a thrust for his midsection. Doing two things at once, especially in the midst of the duel, was no stranger to him. His balance, perhaps Glenn could note, was almost perfect. In his youth, this fight might have already been over. He was angrier then. Less calm. Here, he was almost methodical.

"After the ambush, and they were slaughtered... My mother and father that is... the dwarf that raised me was no slouch in that regard." Again, and again, Burel would slip his blade forward. Probing and seeking a way through Glenn's defenses. The scabbard had reversed in his grip at some point, and was now held much like another, shorter version, of his saber-like weapon.

[Glenn]

This was borderline absurd. Burel was actively trying to keep Glenn from drawing his dagger. Glenn probably should have begun the battle with it drawn if only because he was used to having it in his free hand, used to the weight and the counterweight of it, but he had been sparring with non rapier users as of late and some of them frowned upon a second weapon when it came to so friendly a competition.

As it was, Glenn would allow for the slightest bit of fury in his next block, so that by the time Burel would have shifted his scabbard so, Glenn's dagger would have been unsheathed. There was some cost to his balance, but the dagger and its ability to help him block and to better keep control of the distance meant that he would be able to recover it, albeit with some real effort. It also meant that he could get out another quip. "Ten shillings if you can manage to sheath my sword with that blasted scabbard of yours in the middle of the spar." Nothing more distracting than a side bet, was there?

[Vanidor]

"Ah! Good, you got it out anyway. Excellent. The angle of your blade is all wrong, it'd ruin the lining." His response, as his sword sliced at Glenn's rapier. An active strike at the thing, this time. His intention was to drive it downwards. At the ground at least, perhaps into the stone if there had been enough force. He certainly had it still, muscles bunching as he made the assault.

With the same motion, the scabbard jutted forward, as if aiming to take Glenn in the stomach, before the hold changed to bring the flat metal end at an angle more inline with his chest.

[Glenn]

"A pity. I wanted to be truly impressed." Oh, he did have it out, and that meant that he could do certain things with it. Burel wanted to bring his sword down. He wanted to use the scabbard to strike a blow. That was well and good, and the man's superior strength would allow him to bring the sword down.

The scabbard on the other hand? That was trickier, especially with Glenn poised to use that dagger to keep Burel's distance. Short men were not particularly known for their reach and Glenn's dagger was certainly sharper than Burel's scabbard. Moreover, a quick poke from it, right at the man's closest leg, was exactly what the mapmaker was planning to give the Duke the moment Burel decided to power him down so blatantly.

So that left Burel with a decision. He could draw back, leaving the gambit aside and perhaps allowing Burnie the offensive. He could use the scabbard to block the dagger, leaving them equal once again, or he could power forward nonetheless, knocking Burnie back at a cost to his own leg. Or, of course, the unorthodox man could come up with something else, altogether.

[Vanidor]

Was that not the truth? What he did next was something a man without good balance should never do. His boot of his leading foot, the one about to be stabbed with the dagger, almost seemed to plant itself further into the ground beneath it. As this happened, his -other- foot shot up to parry the dagger with the hardened sole of his boot.

It meant less pressure behind the blow that had been aimed for his chest, but it also allowed Burel the chance to reposition himself. He was swift with it, placing his right shoulder on a facing towards Glenn, then flourishing his blade upwards and aiming the point at the man as well. His scabbard swirled at his side and joined the sword in pointing generally at the Mapmaker.

"You just want to goad me, Glenn. Why is that? Why is there so much anger behind such young eyes?" Calm. His breathing risen a notch with that maneuver, but it was still steady. At least the nostrils weren't flaring, though another bead of sweat had started to drip down the side of his face.

[Glenn]

"Anger, sir? This is intense smalltalk." He hadn't been expecting the foot. It reminded him more of Calomel's tricks than anything else, to be honest. "If I become angry, you will know." He had been pushed backwards, but hardly bruised by Burel's attack.

"What did you speak about with Agnieszka? The weather? Fine then. It is cold, sir. Have at you." Now they both had time to get back into position, and Glenn offered half a salute and half a grin before lunging in, blade first, towards the Duke's head, his dagger ready to counter shenanigans with the scabbard. He would make another attempt to take the offensive,.

[Vanidor]

A shift of his stance and the scabbard was used to bat away at the incoming rapier. A short thrust of the sword followed up with this, right back into Glenns face as well. Tit for tat, as it were.

"I cannot recall what we spoke about. It certainly was not the weather." He diid not counter attack beyond the thrust to the face, however, and instead remained standing poised in his angular stance.