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<blockquote data-quote="FitzTheRuke" data-source="post: 7185558" data-attributes="member: 59816"><p><strong>Titus Ashfield-Bunting</strong></p><p></p><p>Titus had done well in these matches so far - in particular in the rounds of wooden-sword dueling (three-touch affairs) that had preceded today's final, tougher fight: to the yield. He had used much of the cleverness he was born with (developed through an expensive education) and his good, strong sword-arm to defeat several opponents up to this point. But today, he felt tired. The long days of training and bouts were beginning to wear on him, and he wasn't sure if he could win today. He looked out the window of the Barracks (where the final few combatants were held awaiting the match) and saw the large crowd that had formed.</p><p></p><p>His "aunt", Lady Morwen (really a distant cousin; the Duke's sister) sat astride a beautiful horse, above the crowd where she could see him fight. A dwarf cleric led a small group of old-soldiers from the Table of the Sword, and Titus watched as Lady Morwen bade the crowd to make room for them. They bowed and gathered around her horse, their faces lighting up as they forgot their worries for a brief moment. He watched as some halflings, having arrived late, and too short to see above the crowd, rearranged a table in front of the Daggerthrust ales. They leaned the table upright against a roof-post and climbed up where they could see. One of them pulled an apple from his coat and began to chew it vigorously while leaning on the post.</p><p></p><p><strong>"'Tis time, Lad."</strong> said Jekk, opening the barrack's door. The dwarf had been a prize pit-fighter in his youth and had proved to be an excellent coach, <strong>"This is the big one. Watch 'is left."</strong></p><p></p><p>Titus left the barracks to the cheers of the crowd which parted to let him in to the circle, drawn in dark soot, and packed tight with spectators. He saw his opponent, a big grim riverman a few year's his senior, nod to him with respect. Jekk handed him two heavy sticks and the crowd hushed as Lady Morwen lifted a hand, <strong>"Begin!"</strong> she said, lowering the hand (not one for speeches.)</p><p></p><p>Titus and the riverman took a few passes at each other, smashing their sticks together. They came at each other again, and Titus whacked the big man in the thigh - but this wasn't a point-match, and it was like hitting a tree. As Titus raised his off-hand stick to defend, the riverman forced it down with his right, and smashed him in the face with the stick in his left. His eyes watered and his ears rang, and for a moment, Titus felt he would like to let the ground take him. But as the big man came at him for another blow, he ducked to the side, and struck the man twice in his ribs, under his arm.</p><p></p><p>The crowd cheered and Titus was able to move away and wipe his eyes and shake his head as the river-man, winded, sucked in some air. They made a few more passes at each other, clacking their sticks together, ducking and blocking. Titus' keen mind (even through the fog of the blow) calculated that when the man went for his biggest blows, like the one that had connected, he left the right side of his face exposed. Titus would have to invite a similar attack to find the opening he needed. It was all or nothing.</p><p></p><p>Stepping in, he left his guard down. He could hear Jekk groan behind him and curse him for a fool. The big man came in, smashing Titus' main stick away with his right and making a big swing with his left. Just in time, Titus ducked under the blow and brought his own left swinging into the riverman's right temple. The big man's head spun around, and his body followed. He hit the ground hard and was slow to climb to his knees. By then, Titus was standing over him with both sticks above his head. The big man smiled, missing a tooth, and nodded, <strong>"Yield."</strong></p><p></p><p>The crowd erupted into cheers.</p><p></p><p>[GM]Jekk gives Titus his share of the winnings (20 gold) and Lady Morwen will give him a <strong>healing potion</strong> for his face. (He's tough, he can keep it for the future, if you like). From his ringing head, which will take a few days to recover, he has 1 level of exhaustion.[/gm]</p><p></p><p>[ooc]<strong>Places of Daggerford: The Barracks and Drill Field</strong> (Area 1)</p><p>By agreement with the duke, the town maintains its own militia, trained by the duke’s soldiers. All able-bodied townsfolk must serve in the militia, although only a small number are normally on duty. While serving in the militia, the townsfolk must live at the barracks, and spend days either on duty, or training in the drill field. Otherwise, they spend most of their time on road patrols, keeping a close watch on the Lizard Marsh to the west, or on loan to fortresses that owe fealty to the Duke, such as Cromm's Hold. The militia often has trouble hanging on to its veteran members. In search of more income, veterans will often hire themselves out as mercenaries or caravan guards. A few even take up adventuring careers.[/ooc]</p></blockquote><p></p>
[QUOTE="FitzTheRuke, post: 7185558, member: 59816"] [b]Titus Ashfield-Bunting[/b] Titus had done well in these matches so far - in particular in the rounds of wooden-sword dueling (three-touch affairs) that had preceded today's final, tougher fight: to the yield. He had used much of the cleverness he was born with (developed through an expensive education) and his good, strong sword-arm to defeat several opponents up to this point. But today, he felt tired. The long days of training and bouts were beginning to wear on him, and he wasn't sure if he could win today. He looked out the window of the Barracks (where the final few combatants were held awaiting the match) and saw the large crowd that had formed. His "aunt", Lady Morwen (really a distant cousin; the Duke's sister) sat astride a beautiful horse, above the crowd where she could see him fight. A dwarf cleric led a small group of old-soldiers from the Table of the Sword, and Titus watched as Lady Morwen bade the crowd to make room for them. They bowed and gathered around her horse, their faces lighting up as they forgot their worries for a brief moment. He watched as some halflings, having arrived late, and too short to see above the crowd, rearranged a table in front of the Daggerthrust ales. They leaned the table upright against a roof-post and climbed up where they could see. One of them pulled an apple from his coat and began to chew it vigorously while leaning on the post. [b]"'Tis time, Lad."[/b] said Jekk, opening the barrack's door. The dwarf had been a prize pit-fighter in his youth and had proved to be an excellent coach, [b]"This is the big one. Watch 'is left."[/b] Titus left the barracks to the cheers of the crowd which parted to let him in to the circle, drawn in dark soot, and packed tight with spectators. He saw his opponent, a big grim riverman a few year's his senior, nod to him with respect. Jekk handed him two heavy sticks and the crowd hushed as Lady Morwen lifted a hand, [b]"Begin!"[/b] she said, lowering the hand (not one for speeches.) Titus and the riverman took a few passes at each other, smashing their sticks together. They came at each other again, and Titus whacked the big man in the thigh - but this wasn't a point-match, and it was like hitting a tree. As Titus raised his off-hand stick to defend, the riverman forced it down with his right, and smashed him in the face with the stick in his left. His eyes watered and his ears rang, and for a moment, Titus felt he would like to let the ground take him. But as the big man came at him for another blow, he ducked to the side, and struck the man twice in his ribs, under his arm. The crowd cheered and Titus was able to move away and wipe his eyes and shake his head as the river-man, winded, sucked in some air. They made a few more passes at each other, clacking their sticks together, ducking and blocking. Titus' keen mind (even through the fog of the blow) calculated that when the man went for his biggest blows, like the one that had connected, he left the right side of his face exposed. Titus would have to invite a similar attack to find the opening he needed. It was all or nothing. Stepping in, he left his guard down. He could hear Jekk groan behind him and curse him for a fool. The big man came in, smashing Titus' main stick away with his right and making a big swing with his left. Just in time, Titus ducked under the blow and brought his own left swinging into the riverman's right temple. The big man's head spun around, and his body followed. He hit the ground hard and was slow to climb to his knees. By then, Titus was standing over him with both sticks above his head. The big man smiled, missing a tooth, and nodded, [b]"Yield."[/b] The crowd erupted into cheers. [GM]Jekk gives Titus his share of the winnings (20 gold) and Lady Morwen will give him a [b]healing potion[/b] for his face. (He's tough, he can keep it for the future, if you like). From his ringing head, which will take a few days to recover, he has 1 level of exhaustion.[/gm] [ooc][B]Places of Daggerford: The Barracks and Drill Field[/b] (Area 1) By agreement with the duke, the town maintains its own militia, trained by the duke’s soldiers. All able-bodied townsfolk must serve in the militia, although only a small number are normally on duty. While serving in the militia, the townsfolk must live at the barracks, and spend days either on duty, or training in the drill field. Otherwise, they spend most of their time on road patrols, keeping a close watch on the Lizard Marsh to the west, or on loan to fortresses that owe fealty to the Duke, such as Cromm's Hold. The militia often has trouble hanging on to its veteran members. In search of more income, veterans will often hire themselves out as mercenaries or caravan guards. A few even take up adventuring careers.[/ooc] [/QUOTE]
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