Post by Tajian on Aug 2, 2014 15:11:32 GMT -8
The knight had told him in no uncertain terms to stay out of the battle, observe from a distance, hold the horses, and only come when summoned, the same thing he'd done every time his skills as an archer were not needed. Tajian had watched the man saunter off and wondered if he would ever get a chance to prove himself on the battleground, or if he was going to remain a squire forever.
All he wanted was to be allowed to show he was proficient enough now to become a fully fledged knight. He had spent the better part of the last five years training with the heavy broadsword, and he knew he was better than almost all of the men with whom he had started out, and a lot of them were knights already. If he could just make his knight see that he, too was capable...
The warhorse snorted behind him and pawed the ground with one massive feathered hoof, his soft black ears flicked forward, as focussed on the battle as Tajian was himself.
"You want to be out there too, don't you" he said to the beast, stroking the strong neck to calm the animal's agitation at being banished to the sidelines. Then he had an idea. He would be able to see what was going on a lot better from horseback, and it couldn't hurt to just sit on the powerful animal. It was not like he was going to charge into battle on the beast.
He mounted quickly, the horse quieting beneath him, and was surprised by how much better the view was from the slightly more elevated position. He couldn't see everything, but the form of his knight was unmistakable, the long blonde hair, impossibly tangled already (that was going to take hours to clean and brush), the slender frame and those two signature curved blades a stark contrast to the heavier men with their broadswords.
Tajian watched the knight fight. His style was different to the other men, quicker, more refined. Instead of hacking away like a man chopping down a tree, as those like him, who fought with the broadword were inclined to do, this man fought with the precision of a surgeon, his arms rising and falling in fluid motions as he sliced at gaps in armour - a deadly dance that Tajian envied.
While far stronger than this man, and thus expertly suited to the broadsword he carried, he would never have the speed and grace to so skillfully wield the curve elven blades. Of course, both broadsword and twin blades had advantages and disadvantages. The broadsword gave a man more distance and power, but it was a slower, more clumsy weapon. The twin blades required you to get much closer to the man you were fighting, but a skilled wielder, like the man he watched now, could effectively slice a man in two in the time it took to raise a broadsword to swing.
Tajian gasped as the knight was struck with a mace wielded by a man twice his size. He watched, horrified as the body went limp and rolled into a ditch. He was riding forward, a battle cry on his lips before he even knew what he was doing, his sword held high as the horse charged into the fray.
It was inevitable that, in his grief stricken state, he, too would be mowed down. The men battling were far more experienced than he, and so, within minutes of watching the knight fall, Tajian was falling from the imposing black warhorse, the long arc of a sword wound reaching from neck to groin.....
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Tajian could not feel the pain anymore, though he had the distinct sensation of falling. The air around him was warm, but not unpleasant as he fell.
"So this is what dying feels like" was the only thought that managed to float through his mind before he landed heavily on soft black sands.
His green eyes opened and he looked around, somewhat disoriented by the whole ordeal. Then, remembering that he should, by all rights, be very, very dead, he took stock of himself. The wound, that had been searing hot in the few moments he had been alive to feel it, was gone, his armour, ornamental rather than practical, was unmarked.
"I must be dead." he said to himself as he stood and looked around.
In one direction, all he could see for miles were rolling black sand dunes. A small herd of large deer-like creatures grazed nearby on what sparse vegetation there was to be found. He turned, and saw something a little more promising.
Far distant, a large rock formation pierced the sky, and not far beyond that he could see the unmistakable silvery glint of glass, in a tiny smudge that must, he reasoned (and correctly for once), be a town.
"Maybe not dead...but how?" he mused, then, picking up the few belongings he could find, he began the long trek toward the town.
(500 word challenge - saunter, inevitable, ditch - 840-ish words)
All he wanted was to be allowed to show he was proficient enough now to become a fully fledged knight. He had spent the better part of the last five years training with the heavy broadsword, and he knew he was better than almost all of the men with whom he had started out, and a lot of them were knights already. If he could just make his knight see that he, too was capable...
The warhorse snorted behind him and pawed the ground with one massive feathered hoof, his soft black ears flicked forward, as focussed on the battle as Tajian was himself.
"You want to be out there too, don't you" he said to the beast, stroking the strong neck to calm the animal's agitation at being banished to the sidelines. Then he had an idea. He would be able to see what was going on a lot better from horseback, and it couldn't hurt to just sit on the powerful animal. It was not like he was going to charge into battle on the beast.
He mounted quickly, the horse quieting beneath him, and was surprised by how much better the view was from the slightly more elevated position. He couldn't see everything, but the form of his knight was unmistakable, the long blonde hair, impossibly tangled already (that was going to take hours to clean and brush), the slender frame and those two signature curved blades a stark contrast to the heavier men with their broadswords.
Tajian watched the knight fight. His style was different to the other men, quicker, more refined. Instead of hacking away like a man chopping down a tree, as those like him, who fought with the broadword were inclined to do, this man fought with the precision of a surgeon, his arms rising and falling in fluid motions as he sliced at gaps in armour - a deadly dance that Tajian envied.
While far stronger than this man, and thus expertly suited to the broadsword he carried, he would never have the speed and grace to so skillfully wield the curve elven blades. Of course, both broadsword and twin blades had advantages and disadvantages. The broadsword gave a man more distance and power, but it was a slower, more clumsy weapon. The twin blades required you to get much closer to the man you were fighting, but a skilled wielder, like the man he watched now, could effectively slice a man in two in the time it took to raise a broadsword to swing.
Tajian gasped as the knight was struck with a mace wielded by a man twice his size. He watched, horrified as the body went limp and rolled into a ditch. He was riding forward, a battle cry on his lips before he even knew what he was doing, his sword held high as the horse charged into the fray.
It was inevitable that, in his grief stricken state, he, too would be mowed down. The men battling were far more experienced than he, and so, within minutes of watching the knight fall, Tajian was falling from the imposing black warhorse, the long arc of a sword wound reaching from neck to groin.....
----------------------------------------
Tajian could not feel the pain anymore, though he had the distinct sensation of falling. The air around him was warm, but not unpleasant as he fell.
"So this is what dying feels like" was the only thought that managed to float through his mind before he landed heavily on soft black sands.
His green eyes opened and he looked around, somewhat disoriented by the whole ordeal. Then, remembering that he should, by all rights, be very, very dead, he took stock of himself. The wound, that had been searing hot in the few moments he had been alive to feel it, was gone, his armour, ornamental rather than practical, was unmarked.
"I must be dead." he said to himself as he stood and looked around.
In one direction, all he could see for miles were rolling black sand dunes. A small herd of large deer-like creatures grazed nearby on what sparse vegetation there was to be found. He turned, and saw something a little more promising.
Far distant, a large rock formation pierced the sky, and not far beyond that he could see the unmistakable silvery glint of glass, in a tiny smudge that must, he reasoned (and correctly for once), be a town.
"Maybe not dead...but how?" he mused, then, picking up the few belongings he could find, he began the long trek toward the town.
(500 word challenge - saunter, inevitable, ditch - 840-ish words)