training ♔ saturday morning

[nepotism]

WHO || Fredrick Jr., Lan, entirely open
WHAT || Weapons training
WHERE || Knights HQ, Training Room / Armory / Firing Range / Gym, Dragon's Hide wing, 2nd floor
WHEN || Saturday, April 7th from 10am onwards
HOW || Actionspam

It's that time again.  New squires would have heard the word come 'round that there would be open weapons orientation this Saturday - which is also open to anyone who just wants to come spar with the newbies as well.  As before, at the top of the main staircase is the entrance to an incredibly spacious room, that has gym and weight training equipment on the wall near the door, and then lots of old school training dummies and more at the far end. A glass door enters into a firing range, and another pair of large doors on the farthest wall lead to the armory.

With Dovan and Luthir gone on missions, a surly looking Sir Lanston stands waiting for you all, decked out in his elaborate full plate, though he has no helm on.  He leans on an incredibly dangerous looking sword, as Fred offers a much more friendly greeting to the gathered, motioning them all over.

Comments

[bluffcheck]

[He turns and breaks into a grin at the sight of Lan. Because he is a cocky ass and doesn't realize he can get it handed to him if he isn't careful.]

I'd like to see them try.

[technophobic]

You can swing that thing at a man stuffed with straw, but how do you fare against a living opponent?

[bluffcheck]

I'm still alive, aren't I? Must do well enough.

[technophobic]

Dumb luck's been enough to keep plenty of unworthy men alive.

[bluffcheck]

Your boss seemed to think I was worthy enough. Suppose that ain't enough for the likes of you. [Thoster sizes up Lan briefly and figures it couldn't hurt to show off a little.]

If you wanted to dance, you only had to ask.

[technophobic]

Mind your tone, lad.

[ He sizes Thoster up equally, letting out a grunt and turning to walk towards the combat circles ]

Let your weapon do the talking.

[bluffcheck]

[He rotates his wrist once, letting the morningstar make a tight circle before he stands at the ready.]

Ladies first.

[technophobic]

[ One hand flexes on the hilt of his longsword, and then he yanks it free of its scabbard, moving to counter Thoster's position with large, bracing steps. He doesn't dignify the remark with a response, other than to suddenly step forward into the other man's space, sword flashing down in a practiced arc with monstrous strength (attack 36 :O damage 13). Yep. No fucking around here. Consider it subdual damage, at least - he's going for a knockout, not trying to turn him into a stuck pig. ]

[bluffcheck]

[The only sort of attack with a sword that I can imagine to create this result is that Thoster essentially got bitch slapped with the flat end of Lan's sword. And he promptly crumbles like a house of cards. There's a ringing in his ears for a few moments before the black edges of his vision swallow him up.]

[technophobic]

[Lan watches him go timmberrrrrr dispassionately and when he hits the ground, he sheathes his sword with a contemptuous HMPH. And then turns and gestures at some gawkwers.]

Well? Bear him up.

[bluffcheck]

[Yeah. Someone bear him up. Because this is just sad.]

[lightblindbadass]

[Pfft, Riddick will "bear him up" alright. It's called cold water to the face. Which he gets from a sink on the side of the room. He fills a bucket a few centimeters full of ice-cold h2o from the tap, then saunters back over to where Thoster is laying on the ground, splayed where Lan had laid him flat. With no pre-amble he takes the bucket, hauls it back, then with a quick jerk of his hands he splashes it all over Thoster's usually grinning face.

Then he squats down on his haunches near the man, patting his face none-too-gently as he says:] Wakey wakey.

[bluffcheck]

[Thoster comes from good stock. So when the cold water splashes against his face and chest, his body reacts in the natural way. And I rolled a Fort save because that made sense to me? And he got a nat 20 There's a gasp and then a sputter. And then poor Thoster, half sitting and finding himself with a splitting headache.]

Guess that old goat still has a bit of kick in him. [He mutters.]

that works!

[lightblindbadass]

[Riddick lets out a rumbly chuckle, hands dangling between his knees as he looks over at Lan with a wry face, then back to Thoster again. Then he stands, holding his hand down to the other man and bodily hoisting him back to his feet once more.]

I think that "old goat" could kick my ass. You better watch who you challenge next time, you'll probably get worse than a knock on the ass.

[bluffcheck]

[Thoster just waves off the warning before taking the offered hand and standing. His head throbs from the blow and he winces against any source of light.]

Wouldn't happen to be a healer handy to numb this, would there? Or a tavern with a strong ale? Either will do- or both, preferred.

[lightblindbadass]

[]Riddick chuckles, giving his back a few "friendly" pats to "dust" him off.]

Just so happens you're in luck. We got a med-unit full of Clerics, and our own tavern.

[bluffcheck]

Perfect. Think I've had enough 'training' for one day. You're welcome to join me for a drink if you'd like.

[lightblindbadass]

[He shrugs, his big shoulders rolling as he looks around at the rest of the sparring partners. He guessed he'd have to come back some other time and see if Lan was freed up then.]

Why not? [He leads the way out of the Training room and towards the Cleric's wing.]

[bluffcheck]

[ooc: I would be so down to thread out these two getting a beer and talking, but I figure it doesn't need to go in this log? So just let me know if you're interested!]