2 King's Own Guardsmen arrives, following Rainier.

Silas arrives in a bit of a flustered hurry. He carries with him a rather heavy-looking belt, which he offers to his guard corgi to deliver. The smiley dog excitedly runs off, clearly a treasured member of the Iron Guard already. He then straightens and peers at the guardsmen - and Killian - assembled. "Hello, everyone. We'll be starting off with a round of spars. Anyone want to volunteer to go first?"

Serafine's hand shoots up.

Calathane nods, "I offer myself."

Serafine has joined the fighting grounds.

Killian chuckles quietly as he stretches and stands up off of the bench. "I'm here for whatever assistance you require of me, Lord Commander.." says the non-guardsman. He distinctly doesn't wear armor or cloak of a guardsman, and he whistles once at Frostbite who settles down instead of trying to follow if he moves around.

Calathane has joined the fighting grounds.

Rainier arrives slightly after most have but he doesn't seem about to be volunteering to spar with anyone; sure enough there is a fine blade on his back - it's a long and elegant weapon, slightly curved and marked at the hilt in silver with the design of a downward sword and crown of the Hundred - but he's not in armor and the boots on his feet are meant for hiking or riding, not sparring on practice sands. Still, he gazes around as he enters to mark faces and see if he recognizes anyone present before moving out of the way of any potential combatants.

Serafine wields The Valiant Woman.

Serafine grins at Calathane. "Don't believe I've had the pleasure, saw you in the Grotto though," she remarks, saluting the man with her blade. "Dame Serafine, as the Lord Commander calls me. Pleased to meet you, messere...?" she prompts, dark eyes glittering with good humor from behind the noseguard of her helmet.

Silas scratches his chin thoughtfully at Serafine and Calathane offering. "As much as I want to see how an archer fares against Dame Serafine..." He pauses and looks to Killian with a grin. "I want you to face Dame Serafine after this, if you don't mind."


     Having volunteered, Calathane steps down into the training ring and is greeted by Seraphine, "Indeed I remember the Grotto well earlier." He turns to Silas, "I do not mind using my axe for tonight." he pulls from behind him a axe that looks like a hawk's head for the blade and a wing flowing off the other side to counterbalance the hatchet front. "I can start out rather simple this way and get back into the swing of things."


Calathane returns back to Seraphine and bows, "Lord Calathane Drumenach." And t helps to introduce himself to all there as well.

Reese is perched on a bench with her Gloria prayer book. She has been fighting a lot lately and is not fully recovered from being sore and bruised from other spars. She looks exhausted too, having been up all night chasing leads. She doesn't look up to fighting and sheepishly begins to remove her armor.

Silas nods sagely back to Calathane. "You face a fierce opponent. I wish you luck, Lord Calathane." The Lord Commander steps forward to observe the upcoming spar, though at a reasonably safe distance. He glances to Reese and Rainier on the sidelines, but peers more closely at the latter, whom he isn't as acquainted with. "Here to simply watch, m'lord?"

Serafine grins at Calathane. "Good to meet you then, my lord." The inked, scarred, copper-skinned woman beams at her opponent. "A'right-"

Serafine inflicts very serious damage to Calathane.

Rainier notices Silas addressing him so he takes a few steps closer, making certain to still not obstruct anyone else's view of the training grounds. The bearded warrior doesn't seem to care for the spotlight, comfortable to tread away from the clash of arms itself, but he dips his head in greetings as he murmurs, "For today. I was on duty for a while and the idea of matching arms with one of these fine people is probably going to do no one much good." he states politely. "But it is always educational to spot trends and study how others choose to conduct themselves, no?"

Reese watches from the benches. She looks over to Rainier, giving he Lord a polite smile of greeting.

Serafine inflicts moderate damage to Calathane.

Serafine inflicts serious damage to Calathane.

"Aye, I can appreciate watching a good fight almost as good as participating in one," Silas retorts to Rainier with a firm nod. "It can be a little distracting to learn when you're in pain. But I -am- curious about your own skills; the King's Own has quite a reputation for their skill at arms, and the Lord Commander is a formidable man." He then inclines his head to observe the spar unfolding, wincing slightly each time Serafine lands a harsh blow. "He shouldn't feel too bad if he loses... so do I."


Serafine is an experienced warrior, jovial nature or no, and it shows in the way she stands, balanced, and she moves with a frugal grace, never taking up more space than she needs, no flourishes or extra spins, nothing like that. Practical. She moves inside Calathane's defenses, under his swings, combining bladework with her fist, catching him in the jaw, and then headbutting the man in the chest. She's quick, quiet, focused.

Sparte shows, albeit late. He has his helm off and tucked under one arm, and the thousand yard state of someone who saw something they can't quite understand and arn't sure they want to.

Reese has joined the Benches.

Reese is sitting one of the benches. She removed all her steel and is left wearing linen pants and a linen shirt that are stained from being beneath the armor. She has her gloria prayer book in her lap, even as she watches the combat drill. The blonde Princess looks over to Sparte, seemingly a bit concerned. "Is everything okay?" She murmurs gently.

"Aye", Rainier answers with a second slow nod, "he is. But there is no one way to prepare for combat; sands are not enough because it teaches the eye and the hand to work together but not how to think tactically. A lecture is similarly insufficient; you can *hear* about how to prepare but there is no understanding outside of doing." the Silver Sword claims, giving Silas a small smile. He's noticed Reese whose gesture is returned with an inviting wave of his own, though, before the man's thumbs end up tucking over the plain leather belt he's got on. "But I am a believer in experience trumping all other traits; no one was born a blademaster. It is earned, and it takes time."


She was like quicksilver and Calathane was not quite prepared, each swing or punch he throws seems to whiff through air or be easily blocked and then the headbut and he is seeing stars afterward.

Serafine inflicts minor damage to Calathane.

Reese watches the fight with close attention for a few moments. She then turns her focus once again to Rainer. "It has to be earned, that is true." She says, agreeing with him.

Serafine inflicts very serious damage to Calathane.

Calathane falls unconscious.


There's no remorse; the Iron Guard isn't about sparring for fun, it's about getting the job done and living to tell about it. Serafine is watching Calathane with a critical eye, using her speed and shorter height (he has about a foot on her) to duck his swings. There's a clip to the man's jaw, and another headbutt to the chest.

When he hits the dirt, she's pulling back and letting the Healers come in to patch him up, offering a crimson-gloved hand to the man to hoist him to his feet if he wants it.

Silas gestures for Sparte to join the gathering when he spots the befuddled guardsman and one of the newest among their number. "Join us, Master Sparte." He turns to regard Rainier again. "You are right. Kind of. I have faced men with considerably more combat experience than I have, and came out on top. The key is acknowledging you're up against and using your natural talent to its best ability, as well." The Lord Commander himself was in his early twenties - he hasn't be *alive* long enough to be on the battlefield in any significant manner. But that is a flaw in its own right. When Calathane hits the dirt, Silas brings his hands up to applaud him. "Valiant effort, Lord Calathane, even if you may not think so. Dame Serafine is one of the most skilled fighters we have."

Reese watches as Calathane falls, sucking in a soft breath. "Good Job! I wouldn't want to go up against the Princess Serafine. She is a beast."


Serafine pulls her helmet off with her other hand. "KNIGHT, Princess Reese. Dame or Knight. Please," she sighs dramatically, only to grin a moment later. "No one takes a Princess seriously when she's trying to break up a riot."

Reese hmms softly. "Maybe I need a new title then. I want to be taken seriously." She says, sounding rather thoughtful.

Serafine says, "Only if you intend to break up riots."


     Like that, he gets another swing in, but then it is one two, and CCalathane hadn't even seen the second one as he goes down. He is out for a little bit till the medics get him back up and awake. Taking the offered hand Serafine gives to him to get up. "I should have put more time int proactice..." he stretches a little wincing as he does. "I'm sure she is. I've got a long way to go if I try that again." He laughs softly and wanders over to the edge of the traing yard. "Perhaps I'll stick to grappling with women than fighting them with weapons."


Sparte makes his way obediently over to where Silas is. He doesn't say anything or do anything else, just stands there and waits while looking distracted by his continued thoughts.

Serafine laughs at Calathane's words. "I can put my sword away, brawl with you bare-handed. I'm alright with that." She grins.

"Change of plans," Silas declares as he gives Sparte a once over, then turns to Killian. "Lord Killian, would you be willing to give one of our newest recruits a fight? I -think- you may be in for a pleasant surprise."

Rainier considers this. "There are no guarantees, especially when one fights for their life or honor." he finally answers a few moments later, speaking in a quiet and careful tone. "When they give it all they have and with spirits white-hot - things happen, then. It only takes a moment for the unexpected after all; a slip of a foot on treacherous terrain, a feint taken, a lucky strike. There are no guarantees in battle and there are none in duels." the bearded man murmurs, setting his attention on Silas after a small break to watch the fight's outcome. "You spend a thousand hours honing your footwork but all *this* does is tilt the odds; it doesn't secure them. You are simply more likely to emerge a winner."

Reese smiles over to Calathane. "You can spar with me sometimes. I am not nearly as good as her. But another time." She says, being the exhausted princess she is. Reese still has a touch of diva princess about her and she doesn't want to fight right now while so drained.

Killian has been watching the fight keenly, if silently, his attentions focused and his gaze unblinking. He's been distracted of late, anyone who knows the man might well have observed it, but there's no particular reason for his distractions given. He glances over and smiles at Serafine, smiling at her admonishment about titles before he looks to Silas and nods. "Anything that you need Lord Commander," he agrees amiably.

Reese cheers, calling out. "Yays, Sir Killian!"

Calathane laughs some more and shakes his head, "Maybe when the stars stop spinning and my head stops ringing." he turns to Reese and nods, "IF you with m'lady. Again the stars, the noise... and a few bruises less..."


Chuckling, Serafine guides the man to the benches out of the way of the next fight. "Speed, my friend," is what she tells Calathane. "Work on your speed." (We can talk numbers if you want but that's entirely up to you, anything I can do to help).

Serafine has left the fighting grounds.

Serafine has joined the Benches.

Calathane has left the fighting grounds.

Killian has joined the fighting grounds.

Killian wields Hawks Talon.

Reese smiles happily over to Calathane. "We will fight soon." She says, while resting in on the bench in her stained linens. She then smiles over to Serafine. "I will fight you too one day, but that is basically I don't mind losing. I do fall alot." She says, giving her a grin. She ten turns to see what is going to happen in the fight rink next.

Killian puts Steel Vambraces and Pauldrons in Rugged Leather Backpack.

Killian puts Steel Greaves in Rugged Leather Backpack.

Killian puts Steel Cuisses in Rugged Leather Backpack.

Killian puts Steel Plate Gauntlets in Rugged Leather Backpack.

Silas nods again to Rainier. "Also, some people simply overthink too much. Or go into it too confidently. Fighting is a mental exercise, too, but one more dependent on intuition than pure intellect I find. The latter makes for a good general or commander, however." He gestures at the fighting grounds, for Sparte to join Killian. "I had heard you won your last spar, Master Sparte. I wish to see you fight personally."

Killian puts A Practical Knights Guide to Combating the Forces of Evil 2nd Ed in Rugged Leather Backpack.

It takes much longer than it should have for Sparte to realize the new recruit might be him. He looks between Silas and Killian, blinking a little bit as he comes back to his surroundings. A glance is given over his shoulder to the others on the benches, before he looks down to the fighting pit. "I... They went easy on me sir, but I'll do my best sir."


Looking at Sparte, Serafine recalls something. She stands up, trots over to Sparte, checks his gear.


The Knight looks over Sparte, checking his helmet for dents. "So. My woman says you can take a punch," she says with a warm smile. "Be careful, aye?" She squeezes his shoulder.

Serafine claims that.

"Aye." Rainier says again as he smiles at Killian who's taking the field. "As I suspect is the case for most important matters, balance is essential. We sway somewhere between overconfidence and self-doubt, but there is a range in between where one can grow in their own emerging mastery." he remarks, bringing his hands together for his relative. "But what we are seeing in the practice yard is only that. I have seen good soldiers, capable swordsmen, who walked into a battlefield and found they lacked the stomach for it. The only way to know is to do it."

Sparte gives Serafine a weak smile, then slips his helmet on to help hide his nervousness.


Serafine claps Sparte on the shoulder. "Good luck, messere," she says, meaning it, and retakes her seat.

Killian slides out onto the training area, settling his helmet into place and awaiting his sparring partner. "I am Lord Killian Ashford, a pleasure to make your acquaintance," he offers politely when his 'foe' joins him. He reaches up, shield already in place on his left arm, and pulls his visor down before dropping into stance, "At your liesure sir."

Sparte wields a massive, two handed Claymore with quatrefoil guards.

Sparte has joined the fighting grounds.

Something strange this way comes. Be it a sense of adventure or a fondness for the amusement, or something completely outside the Lower Boroughs box, is a man who could be a sellsword, if he wore the rag tag armor of one. He merely has a sword, in a scabbard rested across his back, belted across his chest. His shirt he wears is clean, still damp, but clean. Trousers as well, boots look at least dusted off. His hair is also on the edges of wet, never combed, and falling more into dreadlocks for how long it's been matted, but at least, beard, looks without the grease stains of a commoner. But he is one, more or less. He folds his arms in a posture of a man come to watch, come to see for himself what the Iron Guard can muster. Orathy Culler loiters, sizing up the competition, in manner of speaking.

Sparte follows Killian down. "Ah, I'm just, um... Sparte, your Lordship." He slowly unsheathes the large sword off his back, the sword wobbling a bit just for the weight of it in the skinny guard's grip. "It is, uh... That is to say..." He shifts his shoulders. "Okay." He steps forward cautiously, starting the match.


From her seat in the benches, Serafine looks up to see Orathy. She smiles at the man, recognizing him from the Grotto. She gives him a nod, before going back to looking at the spar unfolding in the pit.

Reese is perched on a bench wearing her plain linens that are stained by her armor. She looks over to Orathy, giving the man a friendly smile of greeting.

Silas studies Rainier yet again, but this time it's visibly more discerning. "How many wars have you participated in, m'lord?" He inquires. "I know there's always fighting -somewhere-, so it is to merely sate my curiosity."

"I rode with the Crown when the shavs were our enemy and none was greater." Rainier answers dully as he fixes his gaze on the barren ground somewhere below. "We rode down the Abandoned, then; they fought back. I thought with honor, even if it was not the kind I expected; there was bloodshed there. Was that a *war*?" he ponders without meeting the other's eyes. "I cannot answer that. It is not up to me. But there were soldiers and horses and banners aplenty; and chopped off limbs, too. There was that as well." His lips set again but this time it doesn't seem like he's likely to speak up again, at least unprompted.

As the fight begins, Killian launches into a number of more complicated attacks, his sword slicing and swinging as it attempts to slip past Sparte's guard and inflict the maximum of damage. He foregoes some more obvious lines of attack in favor of these more complicated maneuvers, using the opportunity to practice them on a live foe, but unable to get past the others defenses. His own defense seems to rely heavily upon the heavy armor and shield the Knight utilizes, letting Sparte's attacks deflect off of him ineffectually.

Orathy glances toward the benches, sixth sense? Nawh, he just had to gaze over to look whom else had come to watch the display of wobbly legged Iron Guards. With that fresh damp recently scrubbed clean look, he doesn't smell half as bad as the Lower Boroughs, nor does he look quite so grubby. Still, the plain shirt was a dead give away for his... origins. He catches the look from Reese and meanders that way, "You an Iron Go... Guard?"

Sparte doesn't have the same aggressive stance he used in previous fights, for those who have seen the relatively green guard fight before this is a notable improvement by himself. He clearly learned something, recently. Maybe a few things. He uses the giant sword as a shield more than a weapon, allowing Killian's blows to slide off and countering with strikes against their armor. None of the hits are enough to matter, but he doesn't seem to be bothered by the lack of progress.

Silas continues his conversation with Rainier with an unusual amount of informality. "Sounds a lot like the Telmarch. Freezing cold, shavs everyone wanting to kill you... bears..." The two combatants trade blows, with neither really making a dent in the other yet, and Silas seems pleased. "They're well-matched."

Reese looks over to Orathy, nodding in his direction. " I am. I am Princess Reese Grayson of the Iron Guard." She says, adding a moment later. "I am just not fighting at the moment. Who are you?" She questions gently, seemingly curious. She peeks back toward the fight, cheering with Silas says they are evenly matched.

Sparte inflicts minor damage to Killian.


Serafine chuckles softly, overhearing Silas. "Fighting -with- the Shav'arvani worked out better; think I learned just as much with them as I did with Uncle Niccolo as a wee thing, working to gain knighthood."

"I am no grizzled veteran", Rainier smiles slightly at Silas, "and there is no hearth fire to gaze upon and reminisce of the good old days - or the bad - but I have the feeling that in the end wars are all the same. There is but one of them, especially for the fallen. Mine was similar to what you are describing." Perhaps it's curiosity that drives him because his next words are ponderous. "When you look back at those days, what do you feel?" he asks the other man. "But yes, they are a good match. Killian will win it though. He is an Ashford." So there's *that*!

Leta is not an Iron Guard, and isn't even in armor, but she comes into the training center with a curious look, strutting her entirely unarmored self up to the edge of the arena, hands resting on her hips as she takes in the sight of the match taking place on the fighting grounds, a wide smile lighting up her face as she identifies the combatants. "Well then." the colorful woman notes, then glances down the length of the benches both ways, and strolls in Serafine's general direction.

Freja slips in and heads for the benches right off the bat..er, sword? Whatever the Arx equivalent may be, the scout seems more inclined to spectate than to partake. She assumes a lean against the railing, eyes narrowed and sizing all the combatants up. A nod of greeting is given to any that may be nearby.

Freja has joined the Benches.

A messenger arrives, delivering a message to Freja before departing.


Serafine must have her own extra sense, looking up when Leta strides in. She grins at the woman and scoots over to give her space to lounge by her if she likes. "He had no dents, as far as I could tell," she removes to the fair-haired sellsword. "No lasting damage." She winks.

Sybilla, the Lenosian courtesan arrives, delivering a message to Serafine before departing.

Another series of blows exchanged, another blur of swords and strikes. For all the work Killian does, he just can't seem to slip past Sparte's defense thus far, but at least his armor seems to hold up to the attacks of the guardsman. Save for one small blow, the armor deflects all of the damage that the knight should take.

Calathane considers the conversation, he grumbles a little, better to not add his own opinion to that. he felt closer to the Shav and abandoned, then most of tis new pantheon for the reason sparks between them and the old ways seem to go. Still he winces and sighs, he really did get his head kicked in the fight before and isn't much for speaking about the issue more because of that also.

Sparte continues to hold his defensive stance, chipping in a shot here and there. He is pacing himself, focusing on the fight. The longer he fights, the more relaxed he seems to be getting. Maybe he'll mix it up soon.

Orathy's brow hedges up at the title, "Is tha so? With the Guard, a Princess eh?" He pops his foot up on the lower rung of the bench, "Would reckon I be liking to see you fight, indeed." He cants a look toward the ring, then off to the side where Rainier speaks, drawing a gaze back to Reese, "Someone from the Boroughs...curious to see how hardy the Iron Guards were, eh. Name's Orathy." The talk of wars is something but he merely watches the sparring, spitting aside as if he had grit in his mouth.

A messenger arrives, delivering a message to Freja before departing.

Sparte inflicts moderate damage to Killian.

Freja asides to Serafine when she sees her, "Have they been going at it for long?"

Serafine nods to Freja. "Aye, a bit."

Reese looks over to Orathy. "I can fight." She says in his direction, giving the man a grin. "You can see me fight sometime or you can fight me yourself, but not at the moment. I didn't sleep last night and they are doing drills." She says in his direction. "But the Guard takes princess. Some of us princesses really kick ass and the guard needs help." She looks over to Serafine, giving her a grin, but she doesn't out her with more than playful smile.

Freja glances around and then realizes the amount of Iron Guard here. She begins to push away from the railing and remarks to Serafine, "...closed training too?"


Serafine catches Reese's look and words, gives the princess a fond wink.

Silas returns Rainier's smile, and doesn't sound alarmed at what Serafine says, strangely enough. "I'm glad I won't be hearing longwinded stories about how things were back in the old days. You're right, too, Dame Serafine - people shouldn't be defined by the worst among them." Back to the fight, he cants his head. "I'll take that bet. I think there's much more to Master Sparte than you think."

Serafine looks to Freja. "Aye, training drills for the Guards." She grins. "Otherwise I'd take you for a spin, let you slap me around a little."

Orathy sidelong glances at Reese, "Without all that armor, could ya still fight with a blade, I wonder?" The Lower Boroughs man isn't off is game, his composure solid for how many guardsmen were around, as if he was quite done being afraid of many things, including them. "Anyone can wear armor, it takes something more to take a hit... from a blade or a fist." He listens to her speak about how the guards take princesses, nodding, "So does my organization..." he mutters with a wry tone.

"I do not think less of the other man." Rainier answers as he clearly hasn't met Sparte before. "But I know Killian is made of stern stuff; it does not mean he will not go down, only that it is unlikely." he answers with a faint smile. "But do not worry. You will hear no such stories from me today."

Calathane laughs a little and he groans, wincing as it still hurts to do so. Still he wathes the match between Killian and Sparte.

Killian seems to push faster and it causes him to open up an opening, not a hugely damaging one, but it's clear that it was there and he winces as his opponent takes advantage of the mistake. The reckless behavior doesn't even pay off for the Knight, who fails still to land blow upon his foe.. Killian straightens though, and dances back to action. "Well then.." he says with a nod to the guard.

Sparte does more exchanges of strikes, parries, and evasive steps with Lord Killian. Eventually that itchy youthfulness shines through and he lifts the blade higher than he had previously, going for a strong strike against Lord Killian's shield, hard enough to transfer some of the blow through to their arm. Stepping back he resumes his stance, starting to bounce a little bit on his feet. He doesn't even seen to be feeling it yet.

Sparte inflicts moderate damage to Killian.

"It may be the other way around." Freja teases Serafine with a bright ripple of laughter. "Should I depart? I truly do not might. I tried to go to whatever is taking place at the tournament grounds, but I heard talk of marriage at the moment I entered and made a hasty exit."

Leta takes the offered seat near Serafine, leaning back with her hands gripping the back of the bench, and lets out a sharp laugh. "Ah, that's good! Was worried for a while, I can tell you, with how loud it was when I hit his helmet. Bonk!" she makes a gesture, as if something striking the side of her head, and keeps her eyes on the fight with some interest. As Serafine speaks to Freja, Leta looks over and nods briefly to the woman.


Arching at eyebrow at Freja, Serafine says, "No, stay if you like, it's mostly watching for the non-Guard." Her head tilts towards Leta. "Like the Terror of the Lower Boroughs here." She flashes a grin at the sellsword watching the fight next to her, before looking back to Freja. "Marriage? What and who? Heard rumors that Isolde and Darren were calling it quits but I put no stock in it..."

The movements open an opportunity, yet again, and he takes a more telling blow this time but he looks far from defeated as he continues to press the assault.

"There business is their own and I do not mettle in it until some public proclamation is decreed. As for my own? I doubt it will ever come, with the two older brothers -I- have." Freja opines as she slips into the benches on the other side of Serafine. She salutes Leta and introduces herself,"Freja Redrain. A pleasure. Terror, eh?"

Killian's attacks are more reckless, the Knight focusing on the assault rather than his swordsmanship now, the time for drilling having passed. He launches attacks again and again, but the movements open an opportunity, yet again, and he takes a more telling blow this time but he looks far from defeated as he continues to press the assault.

Sparte lands a hit, deflects a hit. Takes a hit, misses a swing. He may have the edge but not the patience. Sparte takes a few steps back after that exchange, shifting his grip on his blade so he is holding it low behind him instead of as a shield. "Ah, this is taking forever." It is a form more suited to a person not wearing a ton of armor, but he doesn't seem to care. "Let's have some fun!"

Killian inflicts serious damage to Sparte.

Orathy glances over toward Serafine, commenting in her direction, with a lick of a smile creeping up in wry jest, "You've no idea."

Killian inflicts serious damage to Sparte.

Killian inflicts serious damage to Sparte.

Sparte inflicts moderate damage to Killian.


Serafine eyes Orathy, confused, then looks back to Freja. "I'm the oldest in my generation in Velenosa House, don't know if they have plans to wed me out, given my history." She shrugs. "Rather be out of marriageable age, aye? Do my own thing, love as I like."

Calathane nods himself to Freya and Leta, already having talked with Orathy a moment before, "Good evening." A hand on his head moves a little so he can look straight or try and appear to for the most part, "Must forgive... I am Calathane Drumenach. Serafine gave me a bit of a pounding in the previous bout."

It seems as though the Ashford Knight has decided to take things seriously, as he launches into a series of attacks against Sparte. He drives in first with a high feint, spinning with impressive agility past the guardsman instead and swinging hard towards the mans back. When they square once again it is that massive shield that comes swinging in instead of the sword, as the heavily armored knight uses his equipment to his advantage, driving the huge sheet of heavy metal against his foe only to follow it with a massive overhand swing with that sword of his, delivering three massive blows in rapid succession of a sudden.

Silas frowns slightly when Killian suddenly goes on the offensive and gets two good hits in. "You're not wrong," Silas admits to Rainier on his Ashford kinsman. "If he opts to do -that- more, he will find more consistent success." He is eavesdropping on the other conversations flitting around him, but only vaguely. It was difficult to divide attention multiple ways.

Predictably, going back to his old flashy and ineffective style results in Sparte getting knocked around like a metal pinata. He doesn't even care. Now that Killian is hitting him back, there is the sound - not of pain - but of enthusiasm. "Great hit!" He is even complimenting Lord Killian as he gets bashed and battered. Even as he almost gets knocked off his feet he digs the tip of his weapon into the ground and throws himself right back into the fray.

Leta stretches out, shifting her body to lean on one arm, the other toying with her belt, and flinches at that particularly hard blow from Kieran. "Ow." she makes a sound, then turns her attention to Freja, blinking a moment. "Aye? Ah. Your Highness." she inclines her head respectfully to the woman, "Leta Broadbent. An honor. Not much of a terror at all, I'm afraid. Knight Serafine likes her tall tales, that's all."

Sparte inflicts minor damage to Killian.

Sparte inflicts very serious damage to Killian.

Sparte inflicts moderate damage to Killian.

Glory, a deerhound, Planchet, a young valet arrive, following Pietro.

"You already loved as you like and had it, seems like you had it all to me." Freja compliments Serafine in her own way and then admits, "I'm a touch jealous that you did." The mention of her title gets only the slightest crinkle of her nose, but she nods. "Serafine is grand at tellin' tales, but for every fish tale there is a minnow of truth."

The confused look he garners from Serafine is met with one himself and then he looks away. It happens and he pretends not to be listening over much, but he is, standing alongside the benches. He'll nod to Calathane in passing and look ahead at the match.

Orathy ^

Sparte inflicts moderate damage to Killian.

Nyx, a black falcon arrives, delivering a message to Freja before departing.

Sparte inflicts serious damage to Killian.

Killian falls unconscious.


Serafine howls when Killian hits the dirt. "Well DONE, Sparte!" she cheers, elbowing Leta, grinning at the blonde. "See, love? You've got your proof; you're a good teacher!" she says with a laugh. Looking to Freja, her smile fades a little. "Aye, had my love, had it all. Still able to love, still want to. Don't think anyone really wants a Shav'arvani-Velenosa whatsits, married and mother to halfbreeds." Her shrug is gentle, rueful though, but the tension leaves a moment later for some reason, her smile returning. "The wheel turns; there's more to laugh than dwelling on the past."

"Well, I think there is much to love and laugh with in you, darling." Freja compliments with another bright laugh as she applauds the pair fighting down in the pits.

Nyx, a black falcon arrives, delivering a message to Freja before departing.

The Ashford Knight drives in again and again on the attack, attempting to press the advantage, but the sudden guardedness of his opponent is enough to keep him from delivering that last blow that would fell his foe. Finally the openings he is allowing are too much for him, and another blow lands and he falls to his knees, raising a hand, "I yield," he calls out, coughing, "well fought guardsman," he compliments, pulling his helmet slowly off and wiping a sweaty brow, looking exhausted in his heavy armor.

Nyx, a black falcon arrives, delivering a message to Freja before departing.

2 King's Own Guardsmen leaves, following Rainier.

Nyx, a black falcon arrives, delivering a message to Freja before departing.

Nyx, a black falcon arrives, delivering a message to Freja before departing.

Sparte isn't a consistent fighter in most things, but he does seem to relish getting knocked about and making the fight more interesting. Even as the fatigue wears down on them both, he goes back and forth between powerful strikes that leave him unprotected and spinning the blade back in front to double as a shield. Eventually it ends in his favor, and he needs a moment to figure out what to do with his weapon. "Oh! We're done?" He flips up his visor, blinking at Lord Killian before giving him a big bloody grin. Must've bit his lip on one of those swings. His sword is sheathed, and he goes to take Lord Killian's raised hand. "It was a pleasure, let's go sit down. I've got some chocolate."

Freja deals with a few messengers and then apologizes to Leta and Serafine. "I am afraid I am being called away by a darling dear, but hope to see you again shortly?"

Nyx, a black falcon arrives, delivering a message to Freja before departing.

Serafine salutes Freja with a bright smile. "Aye, have a good evening, Freja."

Freja blows a kiss and then is gone. POOF! Scout magic.

Freja has left the Benches.

Leta raises her eyes to Calathane and gives the man a friendly look, "Good evening!" she smiles, then looks from him to Serafine and back, "I see. Aye, Knight Serafine does that, doesn't she. Pleasure to meet you, m'Lord." she's guessing at the last part, but inclines her head to go with nonetheless. Her gaze is drawn back to the fight as it the tide turns once more, and the sellsword raises her hands and claps. "Aye, reckon he's done well enough there, hasn't he?"

Silas gives hearty applause for Killian and Sparte. "A better match than many of the duels I've seen in recent memory!" He praises them both, and can't help but snicker at Sparte's offer of chocolate. "Aye, you two rest. And Lord Killian - you will be joining us in an investigative capacity. We'll chat about it later." He tilts his head to Reese now, who is the only one outside of himself who hasn't fought yet. "Do you want to challenge anyone, Your Highness?"

Killian smiles slightly, "Thanks, but I think I'll pass on the chocolate, it has a tendency to make me somewhat nauseous I fear.." he apologizes. He moves over and pulls a gauntlet from his hand, reaching with the bare hand to pet Frostbite and reassure the massive direwolf that he is fine. "See..it's okay girl," he says soothingly to the huge beast.

Serafine smiles brightly for some reason, then looks to Silas. "Oy, Boss. Who's next?"

Reese looks over to Silas. She gets back into all her armor. "So...who will fight me?" She asks.

Sparte pulls out the chocolate bar from his belongings, looks thoughtful as it is rejected, and puts it back away. "Oh, well. Okay." He goes back to standing over by Silas instead of the benches when the chocolate is refused. Apparently standing around in full armor after that beating is just fine with him. Must be nice while the adrenaline lasts.

Orathy may have drifted to the background of any thought, which, is oddly normal for him. He does regard Reese with some interest, scanning the faces of those whom could possibly challenge the Princess Guard.

Calathane nods, "I suppose I'm glutten for punishment... But I think the stars have stopped for now. I'll give it another go." Besides it can't be as bad as Serfine had been... can it?

Silas smirks when Calathane offers again. "Princess Reese versus Lord Calathane it is, then. After that, we'll have our handicap match." He directs this latter part more in Serafine's direction.

Serafine grins at Silas. Stiiiiilll don't know what that means.

Calathane has joined the fighting grounds.

"It means us against everyone, Serafine," he answers the unasked question. Maybe he's psychic.

Reese smiles over to Cathathane, seeming happy that he took the challenge. Her blue eyes are bright. "My Lord." She says and draws her pink rubicund blade.

Serafine's grin brightens.

1 Grayson Guardsmen have been dismissed.

Calathane nods as he draws his axe once more, "Your highness..." He doesn't seem as peppy before, still outgeared, but he does seem to straighten once more and move into stance.

Reese inflicts minor damage to Calathane.

Calathane inflicts moderate damage to Reese.

Reese inflicts very serious damage to Calathane.

Reese is wielding her pink blade and covered in heavy steel armor. She charges at Calathane, trying to strike the man. Her last blow was quite a powerful one, hitting hard against his side. The blond warrior princess certainly got hit in return, taking blows that were heavy enough to bruise through her steel. She seems focused on the match.

Killian pulls his helmet off and watches the fight unfold

Orathy checked dexterity + stealth against difficulty 15, resulting in 16, 1 higher than the difficulty.

Calathane is a little stiff to begin with but things start working themselves out. Reese isn't so fast as Serfine was. Thing is getting past her armor also as it takes two blows deflecting it easily it seems with little effect, one does land that rings true and he considers the priness more closely, looking more over her armor now than before, a tough nut to crack.

Killian checked perception + investigation against difficulty 15, resulting in 30, 15 higher than the difficulty.

Reese inflicts moderate damage to Calathane.

Calathane seems better able to dodge a little trying to figure out Reese's movement, sword sliding off axe blade, an over extended strike though and she works in for a solid strike rings off his armor once more. IT was like two completly different fights, Serfine was a demon of quickness and strength, but Reese armor is proving to be trouble as well. But he is learning more and more and that really is the purpose even if that last hit staggered him some.

Glory, a deerhound, Planchet, a young valet leave, following Pietro.

Reese inflicts serious damage to Calathane.

Calathane falls unconscious.

Reese is not very fast in all that still. For a little blonde, she is quite the brut. She seems to understand how how to use her blade quite well, but she lacks the strength of some of the other warriors. Still she is very well trained with her weapon, thanks to Sir Silas. She keeps charging at Calathane, managing to get another good hit in. She has a kind of toughness, showing no signs of wearing down yet.

Sparte watches the fight with some interest. Eventually he takes off his helmet so he can follow it better, grinning at the battle.

Silas studies his guardsmen as they fight, attempting to discern their talents and weaknesses as they move. "They've both gotten better..." He muses outloud, but at no one in particular. Then Calanthe goes down and he winces. "You -are- getting the hang of it, Lord Calathane. Good work Princess Reese."

Serafine looks suitably impressed with Reese. "What was that...?"

Reese is quick to stop fighting when Calathane falls. She doesn't want to hurt him after all. She looks down to make sure he is okay and that the healers are coming. She then smiles over to Serafine and Silas. "Thank you."

Calathane shakes his head a little and another time he finds himself hitting his butt into the ground after a resounding hit to the head, "Good match... Your armor is impressive Princess. It deflects very well. I could feel it turning my axe away." He lets the healers check him over before rising.

Silas moves to join the fighting area himself now. "Now, the grand finale. All of you versus me and Dame Serafine. You -will- need to work together if you want to win, even if the numbers are stacked against you." He pauses and glances to Calathane as the man picks himself up once more. "I suggest you use your bow for the next match-up, m'lord. So you can recuperate some..."

"Gloria blessed my helmut." Reese says and even a bit sheepishly. She knows she has good gear and sometimes it feels unfair.

Silas has joined the fighting grounds.

"Well, stacked -for- you," he corrects.

Serafine grins, heading down to the pit, skipping like a little kid.

Serafine has left the Benches.

Serafine has joined the fighting grounds.

Silas wields silver hued rubicund long sword wrapped in carmine leather.

Ferrando trucks in to the training center, because apparently one Champions' Fete is not enough martial exhibition to watch for one day. With no small amount of interest, he picks out a spot on the bench and sits down to have a watch.

Ferrando has joined the Benches.

Reese glances toward Ferrando, giving him a grin for a greeting. She then lifts her weapon and makes some rawr noise that doesn't sound very much like a real beast at all. She does seem charged up to try and take down the commander and lets face it /The Iron Guard's Sword/.

Calathane wields a wooden longbow with a sleek handle design.

Calathane nods, "Indeed... Though after all the ringing I've felt, my aime still might not be up to snuff. But I'll certainly give it my best to back up the others."

Leta nods as Serafine rises from her side, and watches the woman walk towards the center of the grounds, letting a big laugh slip from her as she surveys the spectacle. "Ought to be good, this!" she yells out, then looks down the length of the benches to the new arrival, dropping a brief nod in Ferrando's direction, "Good day, Master Ferrando! Come to watch our defenders practice? Not countin' myself as that's just a temporary contract."

Reese looks toward Ferrando. "Want to help me defeat my commander?" She says, because she thinks cheating is needful to win against Silas and Serafine.

Silas shrugs ruefully. "Sure, the other side can recruit whomever they wish. They may even win that way."

Reese ohhhs and then she looks to Leta, giving he a hopeful smile. "And you, Miss Slayer of Bringers? Do you want to help us? I really want to see Sir Silas fall."

Sparte loks at the people he'll be fighting with and against thoughtfully for a little while before slipping his helmet on with a shrug. "Yes sir."

Reese smiles over to Sparte and Cathatane. "We are going o take them down!" She says, seeming a bit hyper. But Reese can be that way.

Killian eases out onto the field and eyes Silas, a small smile on the mans face. He whistles once and Frostbite hops up as well, coming out onto the field as the Knight grins wickedly.

Serafine stops, looking at the beastie. "Nope, I don't hit animal companions. Against my religion."

Killian sighs, "I so seldom get to train her against live bait.." but whistles to the wolf, who slinks off back to the sidelines looking dejected too.

Serafine gasps. "Bait!"

Ferrando waves to all his friends and acquaintances but doesn't seem particular moved to promote himself up from spectator. "Isn't it a little unsporting to try and overwhelm your foe with numbers?" he calls out cheerfully. "It's a team building exercise, is it not? Have faith in your cooperation and strategy!"

Silas chuckles at Ferrando's retort. "He does have a point."

Reese blushes with shame. He is right!

Killian hmms towards his companions and eyes Calathane, "Any good with that?" he asks, sounding speculative, before grinning at Reese, "hey, I'm not technically on your team, so it was a fair ask. Don't feel bad."

Calathane laughs softly, "HAve you seen Serafina fight... I'd rather a few numbers between her and that blade for the moment. I already have meth half the nrthern sky in stars this night, working in the southern ones is not in my plans for fun."

Leta touches a hand to her chest and flashes Reese a smile, though her shoulders rise in an shrug, "Not wearin' proper armor. Don't think I'd last a whole long like this, I'm afraid. That's more for Lycene princes and other quick folk like that."

Silas inflicts minor damage to Killian.

Calathane inflicts minor damage to Silas.

Killian inflicts minor damage to Serafine.

Sparte inflicts moderate damage to Silas.

Serafine inflicts moderate damage to Killian.

Reese inflicts very serious damage to Silas.

Reese positions herself as if trying to keep between Calathane and their opponents. She focuses her attacks on Silas, charging in with her pink weapon and making one very powerful strike against the commander.

Killian doesn't do much in the first several bouts, but then suddenly he slips around Silas with surprising ease, managing to score a mark on Serafine even if it's minor. He's usually pretty good at getting around a guard after all. He glances back though as he hears the sound of a massive blow and blinks, "damn..Silas just got pinked." he mutters in appreciation of that hit, a bit surprised before launching back into action.


     As the match begins Calthane lets lose with a couple quick shots formt he bow at Silas, one seeming to ding true for a little bit of damage, he is then moving while he shoots, trying to gain some advantage around Silas and Serafine, looking for a spot to strike as the those up close dance around each other. though the third arrow flies into the dirt at Serafine's feet.



Serafine stands behind Silas, guarded by him, and yips when she's hit now and then, cackling with glee. When Silas takes that huge hit, she barks, "The fuck is my shielded bearer, Lord Commander?"

Ferrando whistles appreciatively from the benches as Reese takes advantage of the chaos to step in with a superlatively timed critical hit. "Well taken!" he calls out.

Silas does, indeed, get punked. After more or less weathering blow after blow from everyone else, Reese manages to slip past his guard while he's distracted and lands a -hard- punch to his gut. He stumbles back, gasping. "Nice..." He compliments, even when in pain. "Apologies, Dame. I slipped!"

Calathane inflicts minor damage to Silas.

Silas inflicts serious damage to Sparte.

Silas inflicts minor damage to Sparte.

Silas inflicts minor damage to Sparte.

Silas inflicts moderate damage to Sparte.

Reese inflicts moderate damage to Serafine.

Silas inflicts very serious damage to Sparte.

Reese inflicts moderate damage to Serafine.

Killian inflicts moderate damage to Serafine.

Serafine inflicts serious damage to Sparte.

Sparte falls unconscious.


Serafine shifts to protect Silas, as a good right-hand person might, and she mumbles something about getting a promotion as the blows rain in. But she's solid for now, taking the hits, her speed that's usually used to dodge the blows, coming in handy to deflect them, both from herself and the Lord Commander.

Reese keeps attacking. She tries for Silas again, but Serafine protects the Commander from her blows. She continues to try and proect Calathane. A glance is given to Sparte as he falls, but Reese continues onwards.

Killian doesn't accomplish much as a personal laurel during the assault, but he does provide an excellent distraction, keeping the pressure up on the two ranking officers as he assaults in again and again.

Silas and Serafine smoothly swap their initial roles, and ironically seem to do better in them. He murmurs a 'thank you' under his breath to the lady knight as she steps in front of him, and he then concentrates on bringing down the almighty Farmer Guard. He is successful, ultimately, then sets his sights on Killian...

Calathane keeps letting loose arrows, some striking, but as things move around, it is a far different way then when he hunted the wilds. There was far more anticipation involved, truly this was by far more a lesson then the two times before. Sweat beads at hsi brow as Sparte goes down and they are one less combatant for their side.

Silas inflicts moderate damage to Killian.

Leta is quite enjoying the show, leaning forward with her arms on her knees, sometimes making appreciative sounds, a laugh, a low whistle, an "Oooow." in sympathetic pain, sometimes accompanied by a clap of her hands. The sellsword shakes her head as Sparte finally goes down, "Mind my pupil there, wom - Knight!" she yells. Probably at Serafine.

Ferrando glances casually at Leta. "What's a womknight?" he asks mock-innocently.

Silas inflicts minor damage to Killian.

Serafine inflicts critical damage to Killian.

Killian falls unconscious.

Silas inflicts serious damage to Calathane.

Calathane inflicts moderate damage to Serafine.

Silas inflicts critical damage to Calathane.

Reese inflicts minor damage to Serafine.

To be perfectly honest, Killian never even sees it coming. He's fighting defensively under the pressure of the attacks, and had shifted his focus to the fact that Silas seemed to be moving elsewhere, and it's in that moment his defense drops and -CLANG- goes the dinner bell as Killian's helmet rings loudly, the Knight dropping forward like a sack of potatoes from Serafine's persuasive encouragement. He just lays there, looking out cold.

Ferrando whistles again as the more experienced duo start levying some serious blows of their own. Nearly two go down almost all at once, but somehow Calathane stays on his feet.

Reese inflicts moderate damage to Serafine.

Silas inflicts serious damage to Reese.

Reese inflicts minor damage to Serafine.

Reese inflicts minor damage to Serafine.

Silas inflicts minor damage to Reese.

Serafine inflicts moderate damage to Reese.

Reese inflicts minor damage to Serafine.

Silas inflicts serious damage to Reese.

Calathane inflicts minor damage to Serafine.

Silas inflicts serious damage to Reese.

Calathane inflicts minor damage to Serafine.

Silas inflicts minor damage to Reese.

Reese falls unconscious.

Leta fidgets with her belt, flinches a few times at the fight, then tosses a brief sidelong glance in Ferrando's direction and feigns confusion, bringing her hands up as she shrugs, "Can't I say I've a clue what you're on about. All that clanging metal maybe?"

Serafine inflicts moderate damage to Calathane.

Silas inflicts critical damage to Calathane.

Calathane falls unconscious.


After the fight, Serafine pulls her helmet off her head, panting, sweaty, eyeing the others with a great deal of pride. "Well... then... fuck. You guys... wow..." She sheathes her blade and starts to applaud. "Well fucking done... gods..."

Ferrando is pretty transfixed on the fight. It's a very much a close one with Silas and Serafine trying to hold on against fatigue, but they manage to pull through a real nailbiter at the end. He stands up and cheers enthusiastically.

Reese is taken down! She is on the ground looking a bit dazed and confused. The mercies come and help fix her up. Once she has recovered her senses, she joins in the cheering. A sheepish smile is given to her allies on the combat. "Well done." she then says toward Silas and Serafine.


Finally under a dual hit after arrow after arrow had been sent towards them, no dancing around the training yard can help him as both come at him and it is over for Calamane, the last to fall, but surely the most brutal hits to be taken a bow not much defense against either of the two skilled warriors...

Killian looks quite comfortable where he is laying, face down, on the dirt. Immobile. He even is snoring a little at this point, or making gurgling noises, it's hard to tell..eventually though a healer rolls him over and, despite a viscious nosebleed and his eyes not quite focusing, he looks entirely okay. As two of them walk him to the benches. Because he can't stand on his own from the diziness of that whallop that Serafine gave him.

Serafine gestures to the Healers, and they come in to tend to the fallen.

It's a hot mess of movement and clashing metal when the veteran duo seems to finally find their stride. They come out on top, eventually, but not without making Silas and Serafine -hurt- and tired. His brown curls are practically glued to his forehead with sweat under his steel helm. Reese finally falls, and Calathane right after - and he might have went a little TOO hard on the poor archer. He blinks owlishly. "Alright, wow, good work team. Did not expect that."

Ferrando glances at Leta while still clapping. "If -that- exhibition was a womknight then I'd be happy to see one every day."

Calathane is defeintly going to be feeling the three wompings he had gotten that day. But it was a good reminder he still had some ways to go to become better. The healers check him over once more and the recommendation is he doesn't go any more rounds that night for sure, probably pushed himself a little past any sane person should have, but he is still smiling also as he heads for the benches and begins to start unstrapping armor.

Leta rises to her feet as the more numerous side of the fight lies on the ground of the arena, and brings her hands together in vigorous clapping, a big smile on her face as she yells out a brief, "Woo!" of approval, glancing back to Ferrando. "I'm happy to see one every day myself." she agrees with the sentiment.

Calathane has left the fighting grounds.


Serafine claps Silas on the shoulder and lopes her way, slowly, to the benches, peeling off her armor as she goes, much as Calathane does. She grins at Leta. "Wom-Knight, aye?" she says, teasing, then groaning as she peels off her cuirass. "Mother fu-"

Sparte is out on the ground, having a jolly good nap. The healers are sure he is alive, though.

Ferrando has left the Benches.

"Thank you, Dame Serafine... that match would have gone very differently without you," he says as he moves to pat Serafine on the shoulder encouragingly. "Aaand you've improved immensely, Princess Reese. Got me real good." He peers at the others: Killian, Calathane, and Sparte. The healers scurry about, attempting to patch them up. "Next time, we won't be able to pull that off, I think."

Reese eventually gets back up. It takes her a while. She is all bruised-up, but looking happy despite such. She gives Silas a warm grin. "Well, I learned sword play from the best." She says in his direction as Silas is her teacher.

    Julea arrives at the training center, fingers rubbing at the side of her neck, and reddening a particular spot. Cheeks hold a healthy flush and as she approaches, she moves to put one of her booted feet up on the edge of a bench, leaning in against it, arm loosely resting atop her thigh.

Killian has to shake his head a few times to clear it, trying to get his attentions to focus again, along with his eyes. He looks up and nods around, "A good bout," he agrees, spotting Julea and nodding slightly to her as well. He reaches to pet his wolf absently, looking exhausted as he sets his helmet beside him on the bench.

Killian has left the fighting grounds.

Killian has joined the Benches.

Reese is back on her feet and looking okay, thanks to his being a practice match and not a real one and thanks to the healers. She looks toward Julea, giving the smith a warm smile that touches her blue eyes.

Calathane fially gets the last bits of armor off and sits there breathing heavily, he hadn't had a work out like that in a long time and turning he lays back on the bench to rest. But that gives him a upside down of Julea as he sees it now and nods to her, "Hello again Julea." he says this but he is rather beat up it appears and his under clothes are damp with sweat.


Grinning at Silas, Serafine agrees. "Aye, would have been different for me as well. I made a better defender than I thought, and you, a better offense than I expected!"

Leta sits down on the benches once more, and shrugs in Serafine's direction, snorting under her breath while her eyes roll subtly, "Why not wom-knight!?" she asks, and flashes the woman a grin, wincing with a tiny hint of concern while she watches the woman remove her armor. "You look a little worse for wear there."

Silas sheathes his rubicund blade and quits the fighting area. "You're a good student, Your Highness," he replies to Reese, over his shoulder. He then removes his helm and promptly dunks his head in the nearest barrel of water. "It seems to depend on the day," he pseudo-gurgles back at Serafine, on whether or not he's a better defender than a better sword poker.

Serafine has left the fighting grounds.

Serafine has joined the Benches.