Knights of the Sword- Tratos and Alistaire practicing. (Feat. Phoenecia and Belanthus)

Alistaire

A training room. (Enorian.)

Positioned on parallel sides of the room, brightly flamed torches keep the room illuminated at all hours. A dark blue mat covers the entirety of the room's floor to soften falls and to allow for better traction. Affixed on the eastern wall, a wooden sword rack presides, finely carved of mahogany. Secured in the sword rack are wooden practice swords. Positioned on the southern side of the room, three archery targets have been placed and spaced evenly. Several wooden posts stand here, awaiting a Templar's strike. A wooden post with a number of rotating pegs sits here. A gold-accented weapon rack stands here, holding various armaments. There are 2 monolith sigils here.

You have emoted: Alistaire takes a step back and utters a prayer for retribution, causing his longsword to erupt in divine light. A masterful stroke of his sword later, the light flares and the post smokes with discharged energy. Panting softly, the Pentarch turns away from the defeated, imaginary, enemy and sees you standing there. "Sir."

Tratos watches the attacks with approval, bowing forward when he's finally addressed. "Sir." he returns in greeting, stepping forward. "You wanted to see me?"

You have emoted: Slipping his shortsword back into his belt, Alistaire makes a beckoning motion. "Aye, I did. Come in, Tratos." he says, his breath steadying. "I wanted to apologize for my abrupt departure after your ceremony and make sure you're adjusting well."

Tratos enters the training room fully, striding easily across as he adjusts his wings with a soft flutter of movement. "Don't concern yourself with it, sir. You have things you need to do." He assures readily.

You have emoted: "All of my Knights are my concern, Tratos." Alistaire explains, head tilting and softly glowing eyes scanning you. "You own a sword other than that bastard, Sir?"

Tratos reaches across to pat the shortsword at his other hip. "Yes sir. I always try to keep my options open insofar as weapons are concerned."

You have emoted: Alistaire shifts his stance so that his side is facing you and lifts his longsword. "Let us see what your father has taught you, aye?" he says, a small smile crossing his features.

Tratos raises his brows, a smile touching his own features as he eyes your longsword. "You've the reach on me, sir. You may not get an accurate showing of all skills. Permit me to obtain a longsword first?"

You have emoted: Alistaire lowers his weapon and glances at his hip where his own shortsword is resting. "If you like, or I could switch weapons. Any sword is as good as another."

"All swords are different, Sir." Tratos objects lightly. "Each one has its purpose and benefits. When you clash with different types one against the other, it becomes clear where their priorities in design rest." He reaches over to draw the shortsword, saluting you with it. "This will do, no need to switch."

You have emoted: Alistaire laughs and sheaths his longsword, drawing the other sword in the same motion. "I'm wholly aware of the differences in design and purpose, Tratos." the Paladin says, lifting his shortsword to return your salute. "What I was saying is that any sword will serve the purpose, in my hand."

Tratos flushes faintly. "Ah.. I didn't mean to insinuate that you didn't know the differences, Pentarch." he says apologetically, widening his stance and settling his sword in a loose grip.

You have emoted: Looking somewhat amused, Alistaire gives a small shake of his head and shifts into a combat stance that mirrors your own. Without a word or sound, the Paladin steps forward and swings his weapon in a low, testing attack.

The counterattack comes easily as Tratos meets your sword in a low, sweeping block of his own, keeping his movements as slow and careful as yours. His limbs are loose, ready.

You have emoted: Alistaire narrows his eyes and steps to the side, his movements picking up in speed as he thrusts his sword toward your gut in another test assault.

Neatly side-stepping, Tratos sweeps his sword to the opposite direction, point-downwards as he catches the thrust close to the hilt of his weapon and lets it deflect past.

You have emoted: "Very good," Alistaire says softly. He steps back and lifts his blade again, his expression hardening. "Have you thought about which of the two Orders of Knighthood you'll join, Tratos?" he asks, stepping forward quickly and executing a slash at full speed.

Tratos is ready for it, despite the comment, his focus entirely for the press of swords and movement of both. His sword arcs quickly around to deflect, but he doesn't allow himself to stay merely on the defensive as he moves forward, a darting step as he jabs towards your midsection. "I have and will -always- live by the sword." He grunts out.

You have emoted: Alistaire sidesteps the attack and turns his entire upper body, the swing of his weapon aimed for your shoulder. He seems content to let the conversation end for the moment, focusing instead on his attacks.

Tratos follows his strike through, stepping past you entirely as he twists, just catching the return attack on the serrated edge of his sword, the tip of your sword clanging against his pauldron with just enough force to make the sound. Keeping metal against metal, he thrusts his sword outwards, letting it ride the inside length of yours like a target for the chest.

You have emoted: With a grunt, Alistaire brings his unarmed hand upward and uses his gauntlet as a shield to interrupt the aim of your attack. His entire body moves backward as his hand raises, forfeiting his next attack in favour of fending off the swing of your weapon. As he clears the reach of your sword, his body turns and his sword raises to a battle position again.

A fleeting smile, there and gone, crosses Tratos's expression, his wings flaring for a moment as his face returns to its serious, focused state. He gives you just enough time to regain your position before he's pressing forward, wings tucked tight as he leads with an upwards crescent sweep to the shoulder. The attack turns to the side at the last moment, sweeping past harmlessly before he comes in from the other side for a belly slice.

Jaw tightening his face into a grimace, Tratos snakes his free hand to his belt and swiping by in passing, curls his fingers around the hilt of the dagger there. He thrusts across his form to block with the small blade, jerking his sword hand free as the tip of your sword screeches across his plate in passing before clearing entirely as he backs up.

Tratos pulls a Caentoi fighting dagger from his weaponbelt fluidly.

You have emoted: Alistaire tilts his head slightly and eyes the dagger in your hand. "Never seen one like that before," he comments, his own free hand moving to rest on the hilt of his sheathed longsword, though he doesn't draw it or press another attack.

Tratos holds the dagger out for view before tucking it back into his belt, resettling his stance. "Amazing what you can find when you travel." he remarks.

You have emoted: "Sir Saybre did well teaching you," Alistaire says, lowering his blade and, for some reason, frowning. "Your membership in the Sword is acceptable, Sir Tratos." he adds, his eyes fixing on your face and awaiting your reaction.

Tratos waits a moment as if expecting some sort of trick, before he lowers his own blade. "He'd be glad to know you think so, Sir." He says, straightening, his brow furrowing slightly. ".. if you'll forgive the impertinence sir, you don't look too happy about.. something." he hazards.

You have emoted: Alistaire glances down at the hand resting on his longsword's hilt. "It is all too rare that another Knight joins the Sword. You are the fourth, and only so high because I counted your father without asking him." he admits, sheathing his shortsword and walking toward you. As he nears, he lifts his right hand and clamps it down on your shoulder. "As a note, Sir Tratos, I am right handed."

Phoenecia arrives from the east.

Listening, his expression easy, Tratos nods slowly, looking thoughtful. He can't hold back the grin, however, at your last comment. "Actually sir... so am I." He admits, sweeping that hand up to smooth back his hair. "...I'd look forward to more, given the circumstance. I don't get the chance to do such often."

Phoenecia pauses in the entryway, leaning against the doorpost and watching the two of you with a faint smile, making no indication of speaking or moving.

You have emoted: Alistaire glances briefly to Phoenecia and gives a small smile. "My Lady," he says, his eyes darting back to Tratos. "That sounds like a fine plan, but you'll need more than that shortsword for it. I favour my longsword above all others. You'll need to match it."

Tratos shoves his shortsword home with a metallic ring, resting his hand on the hilt of the bastard on his other hip. "I could match it." he says casually with a pleased smile. "One way or another." He turns then to offer Phoenecia a bow in greeting.

Phoenecia nods at the two men upon being acknowledge, but remains at her place by the door, still silently watching.

You have emoted: "Is that the style you prefer, Sir? The hand and a half?" Alistaire asks, lifting a hand to motion over his right shoulder at the hilt of his own bastard sword.

"The versatility of it leaves little to be desired." Tratos replies. "A sword for all purposes really." He spreads his hands. "I used to favor a pair of longswords before though... if the longsword is your weapon, I could oblige."

You have emoted: Alistaire motions toward Phoenecia, beckoning the Lady to join. "Use what you're most comfortable with, Tratos. I want to see just what you're capable of. We can't learn if we don't know that, aye?"

"There is truth in that, sir." Tratos replies, curling his grip about the hilt of the bastard. ".. did you want to do it now?" he asks, glancing towards Phoenecia before focusing on you.

You have emoted: Alistaire turns abruptly and walks a short distance away, the ringing of metal heralding his swords being drawn. "Unless the Lady Provost has need of either of us, Sir." he says, still facing away.

Phoenecia strides forward into the training room, seating herself on the mats near the wall, pulling her legs up and folding her arms over her knees. "No, I'm just here to watch. I got bored sitting around in the craft office."

Tratos nods shortly at that, and fluidly pulls his bastard sword free, the heavier weapon settling easily in his grip. He handles it lightly, pulling in a breath as he starts off with a two-handed grip set cross-wise in guard position. "Sir." he says, signalling his readiness.

You have emoted: Alistaire turns to face Tratos, sparing the Provost another glance before lifting his longsword in a salute. "You may begin, Sir Tratos." he intones, shifting into a battle stance that leads with his shortsword.

Tratos lifts his sword in brief salute before he moves forward with purpose, leading with his shoulder as he begins his initial attack. A swing of the larger sword and he attempts to knock away your leading blade to the outside and open the Pentarch for following attacks.

You have emoted: Alistaire doesn't move until the last possible moment, his entire body shifting away from the blow rather than attempting to block it. One step backward, one to the side and a quick, snaking lunge forward allow the Pentarch to dodge the incoming attack and launch into the offensive with his longsword.

Snapping his arm in at the elbow, Tratos quickly withdraws his attack, feet sliding to the side and back as he whirls, striking upwards to block your longsword. Switching to a left-handed dominant grip, he tucks into a quick half-crescent of movement aiming for the shoulder.

You have emoted: The glow of his eyes flaring, Alistaire lifts his shortsword to catch the swing of the larger weapon with a grunt of effort. As the short blade comes into contact, his right arm aims another blow at the other Knight's leg.

Metal sliding against metal with a hiss of sound, Tratos jerks backwards, and the sudden jarring clack of impact sounds out, your longsword stopped with a harder-than-necessary downwards swing of his bastard, pushing past the weapon's length and out as he steps back to clear the Pentarch's bladed reach.

You have emoted: Alistaire steps forward, keeping his shortsword ready to combat any defensive measures and performing an underhanded slash with the longsword as he enters weapon range.

Phoenecia glances to Belanthus from her seat near the corner of the floor, nodding to him in greeting before patting the empty space on the mats next to her. "Feel free to come join me if you want to watch, Belanthus. It's not often that you get to see two knights practicing like this."

Abruptly switching to a right-handed dominant grip, Tratos closes the distance with narrowed eyes and a tight jaw, and it is with a carefully placed blow that he hammers the Pentarch's blade with the flat pommel of his bastard, halting the longsword's momentum with a ringing clangor as he muscles the blade into a pivot, slicing for your torso.

Belanthus looks over at Phoenecia, before making a beeline for the empty spot beside her. "How goes?" he says, and with a glance at Tratos and you, "They seem to be enjoying themselves."

You have emoted: Alistaire turns his body into the oncoming blow, using his armoured bulk to slam into Tratos rather than using his weapons to block the incoming sword.

Phoenecia grimaces as you slams into Tratos. "Go for the legs!" she calls out, though it's not clear exactly who she's speaking to. "Sweep his legs!"

Tratos flares his wings as he staggers back a step, grunting at the impact. He wastes no time though, and taking advantage of the momentary proximity, works to try and strike at your right forearm and hand with the pommel of his sword. In a flash of black feathers, his pinions sweep back and he pushes with weight and velocity to try and stagger the Pentarch back.

You have emoted: Coming off of his charge, Alistaire barely gets his hand out of the way of the swinging pommel enough that only the crossguard impacts his gauntlet. A snarl escapes the gold-clad Knight and he pulls back to avoid the wings, warding the appendages with a swing of his shortsword. Even as the Pentarch pulls back, he utters a soft prayer beneath his breath and his longsword ignites with holy light.

Tratos breaks contact, wings flapping to get him away quickly, feet skidding the ground. He crouches just a bit, wings mantling with a severe expression on his features. With a shift of his weight, he launches forward again with added speed, pulling the bastard up in a two-handed overhead strike.

You have emoted: Alistaire steps into the oncoming attack and lifts both of his swords to catch the larger weapon. A loud clashing sound announced the meeting of blades and a light suffuses Tratos as the flare empowerment from the Pentarch's sword takes effect. Using the forward motion of the now glowing Yeleni to his advantage, the Pentarch lifts an armoured boots and lashes out at the other man's chest.

Tratos curses under his breath as the flare takes his vision for a brief moment, dazzling his senses. The next thing he knows, a boot strikes him square in the chest, and with a sharp exhale of forced breath, he crumples around it before recoiling back. Managing several steps in retreat, his sword strikes the ground as he drops to a knee, gasping to try and breathe.

"Come on, you're not going to stand there and take that, are you?!" Phoenecia calls out, egging Tratos on. She seems to be thoroughly enjoying herself despite only being a spectator, an expression of gleeful excitement on her face.

You have emoted: Alistaire lowers his swords and, rather than pressing the attack, steps back and lowers his head. The Pentarch's breathing comes at a labored pace and an approving, almost proud smile lingers on his face.

Tratos sucks in longer breaths, slowly gathering his lax pinions up close to his back. With a loud grunt, he pushes up from the ground, but can't seem to straighten up fully quite yet. His head raises though, and between the flash of pain, he's grinning madly. "... good hit." he pants in a wheeze.

You have emoted: Alistaire sheaths his weapons and walks up to Tratos, offering a hand to both help the other Knight stand and as a friendly gesture. "Training with the Zealots and monks taught me thing or two." he answers.

Tratos takes the offered hand, his bastard clasped loosely in the other, point towards the ground. "I think.... anyone could... benefit from such." He says slowly, straightening with a wince.

You have emoted: Alistaire laughs softly and tilts his head. "Are you alright, Tratos? You look like I hit you with a hammer." he asks, clearly teasing.

Phoenecia looks almost disappointed as Tratos grasps your hand, her antennae drooping forward slightly. "You should've kicked him," she comments, her words directed towards Tratos, a note of amusement in her voice. "He wouldn't have been expecting it."

"You don't kick a man... when's he offering his hand in peace." Tratos replies in a low tone, slipping his sword into its sheath. "Are you sure it wasn't a hammer?" he asks then, inspecting his breastplate with a good-natured grimace.

"You don't kick a man... when's he offering his hand in peace." Tratos replies in a low tone, slipping his sword into its sheath. "Are you sure it wasn't a hammer?" he asks then, inspecting his breastplate with a good-natured grimace.

You have emoted: Alistaire releases the other Knight and turns to face Phoenecia. "Keep it up, Lady, and you're fighting him next." he threatens. "The Vanguard's favorite thing to taunt me about is my inability to do their kicks, Sir. I practice them a lot, when using my monk abilities."

Phoenecia shoots you a wry smile. "I wouldn't mind a go, honestly," she replies. "Though I'd not likely fight fair. And you'd likely get a glimpse of my undergarments in the process unless I put my tasset on."

"I'd be happy to show Lady Phoenecia what I can do." Tratos remarks, rapping his knuckles along the plate to check for cracking. He coughs suddenly, wincing and pressing a hand to his chest. "After I find where that lung went." he comments.

Phoenecia snickers softly as she watches Tratos. "I'm betting you wish we had progressed more in our healing lessons. Might've come in handy right about now."

Tratos grins a little at Phoenecia. "Just some.. crushed internal organs. Nothing too serious." he jests. "I need to rest now though." He begins to initiate a bow, tensing as he leans forward and managing only the barest scrape of one before straightening. "Keep well, the both of you."

You have emoted: Alistaire lifts his hand in a salute to Tratos. "You did well, Sir." he says, looking quite serious now. "I will look forward to any future bouts. Go and rest."

Phoenecia dips her head in a small nod of acknowledgement to Tratos. "Mm. It's a pity I missed out on a good deal of the fun, but I enjoyed watching you two spar."

Sir Tratos Windrayn-Yaslana says, "I'm certain you will get the opportunity to see more in the future M'lady."

Moirean

Very fun! I love seeing logs like this - they show a nice little slice of guild life. You guys are really nice to read; great writing and clear images, and I could definitely visualize this sparring playing out.

"Listening, his expression easy, Tratos nods slowly, looking thoughtful. He can't hold back the grin, however, at your last comment. "Actually sir... so am I." He admits, sweeping that hand up to smooth back his hair. "...I'd look forward to more, given the circumstance. I don't get the chance to do such often.""

Also +1 for Princess Bride. :P