Knight of Wessex (A Written World Quest)
- Thread starter Alectai
- Start date
- Original Fantasy Alt. History
- Location
- Bretonnia
- Pronouns
- He/Him
I think using Faulty Ground to try and trip him up should he try and engage is a good idea, given he'll likely try and end the fight quickly being a Thane and all.
- Location
- San Ramon, CA
[X] Let's body 'em
- Pronouns
- He/Him
So, on a mechanical level, it's worth bearing in mind how initiative and speed work. Audrey, assuming she wins initiative, will get to take one action, then literally everyone else gets one action. So, even if these were mortals each and every individual mortal gets an action before Audrey gets her second one.
Additionally, these are Anglo-Saxon cultivators, which means a minimum of Fortitude 20, Hama Field 10, and could easily be higher than that. Audrey isn't gonna be taking them out in one hit (barring GKB). Taking four of them out in a round is technically possible, but ambitious.
I.F. Ister
Fortifying The Thread
- Pronouns
- He/They
Alectai is feeling under the weather and I've got a project for school, so the update is going to be a bit delayed. It'll likely be out tomorrow, but we'll see.
- Location
- FL
does this ever change? especially since knights apparently stack speed with every major breakthrough would be weird in my eyes for a speed idk 15 get only 1 action vs a bunch of speed 1s.
Edit: actually looks like 1 speed per decade so maybe a speed 5 instead
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- Pronouns
- He/Him
It does not. To be clear, she gets her full Speed in actions, it's just that everyone gets one action before anyone gets a second one. So if she has Speed 10 and is fighting solely minions with one action each, she'd get one action, then all the minions would get one action each, then she'd get 9 more actions.
There are ways to work around this...there's almost certainly a Hordebreaker Prayer of some sort to allow her to take more of her actions before people with low enough Speed (probably something like 'people with half your speed or less'), but it's not inherent in getting more Speed or rising in Decades, it's the sort of thing you actually need to invest into fighting groups to take advantage of.
And to be clear on Speed, it's normally 1 Speed per Decade, yes, but things can increase that...Vanguard's Prayer gives +1, there are items that could give bonuses, and so on. Plenty of possibilities.
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I.F. Ister
Fortifying The Thread
- Pronouns
- He/They
At a certain point, we'll just handwave the mechanics when battling rank 1 scrubs, but you're not at that level yet.
I.F. Ister
Fortifying The Thread
- Pronouns
- He/They
It appears that Alectai has fallen into a food coma (and isn't fully recovered just yet), so I'll just go ahead and close the vote and we'll probably wait until Monday to post once we've finished the update, to prevent the schedule from falling into shambles.
AeonIlluminate
The power of friendship and aggressive landscaping
- Pronouns
- They/Them
- Pronouns
- He/Him
To be clear, those numbers are speculative. Exact details may vary...more attacks before they go at all based on higher Speed is definitely an option though, yeah.
- Pronouns
- She/Her
Can do.
I want to apologize to every here for not having been around. I've had some real bad news and I've been a mess. I'll try to go back over the last few pages and fill in the stuff that I've missed in the meantime.
Alectai
Speaks Words of Wisdom... On occasion
Another Update on the Update! It's completely written at this point, about 35-40% edited, and we need to add the mechanics at the end. Just mostly a matter of getting the schedules to line up to finish it up.
For those of you who can't wait though... Here's most of the first combat round in its edited form!
For those of you who can't wait though... Here's most of the first combat round in its edited form!
Blue meets green as wind blows, two of Warwick's youth staring each other down. Holman Waering stands with arms crossed and his hair riding the winds like some malevolent warhorse, a confident sneer on his well-groomed face—where others his age touted the hints of facial hair growing in clingy patches on their faces, Holman felt no need for such theatrics.
Across from him stands the promising young Squire, Audrey Eotenslaga; her weapon readied yet undrawn, for she knows well that baring cold iron would serve little purpose in the fight ahead. The scabbard-clad blade taps against her shoulder, her own hair whipping through its own breeze. A line has been crossed on this day, and there is no going back.
His malice dwelt on her tongue like bitter medicine. His spine stood taller than any ship's mast, his pride unrelenting in its totality. Muscles lay thick on his arms, the product of years of martial training. And yet, for all his efforts, he would be little more than a stumbling block had she her armour.
Which was precisely why he chose now of all times to make his move.
As the wind howled and the two fighters sized each other up, Audrey let her thoughts run rampant as she scoured her mental library for any information on her foe-to-be. The most dangerous aspect is, was, and will be the Waering Bloodline, for the King does not entrust the role of ealdorman to those of weak blood. Though most—if not all—men bear a bloodline of somesorts, it is the rare lineage that can claim a strength as fierce as the Waerings. The Arresting Eye, bearing the feathered mark of frost upon the pupil, freezes all it witnesses in a shroud of time and space. All movements halted, all momentum gone, it is a bloodline worthy of the role indeed.
As no lineage is eager to reveal the true limits of their blood-derived might, the rumours surrounding the Waerings' Arresting Eye can only be clouded with obfuscation and myth. However, some truth must lurk in the dark recesses. If the Waerings' power truly does centre on their eyesight, then Audrey has but one option before her.
Audrey takes two steps forward, her backfoot acting the shovel as it hooks beneath a small stone. Sliding forwards, the stone whips into the air as the scabbard-clad flat of her blade strikes with a thunderous clap. The rock blurs, darting through the air like an arrow carried by the wind, as Holman's eyes grow wider than saucers.
As if the hand of God Himself had held it so, the stone freezes mid-flight as Holman Waering sets his gaze upon it. Odd, really. Though his shield would stand firm against the blow, he still used his bloodline's strength to halt it in its path. Surely he should know the quality of his shield, that it would shrug off such a simple strike with relative ease? Or, perhaps, he does not?
Useful information for later, of course, but he had already blundered; he took his eyes off Audrey and left his garbage unprotected. How rude of him, how unsightly.
It was the utmost simplicity to fuel her faith-forged body with a storm of Fervour. Extending both arms outward while blurring into motion, she hooks two foes by their necks as their hama fields struggle and strive and fail to repulse her. Momentum carrying her forward, the crunch of breaking hama accompanies the flying minions as they sail through the air. Collapsing in a pile of limbs and weapons, the minions kiss the dirt most fervently as they writhe and groan at Audrey's feet—a position most fitting for ones such as them.
The smile on her face freezes as Holman takes advantage of her brief off-balance. His shield held high to cover his charge, the Thane-to-be darts forward with all the speed of an iron-legged rabbit. The miscreant's spear gleams with strength untold as shimmering maegen quivers freely along its length.
Audrey's sword twists to block, only for the motion to catch and the spear to slip past her guard. Sparks fly as the spear strikes true against her hama, her teeth grinding together as she bounces away from the blow.
The shield follows her movements as she reels back, her mind racing to make sense of her failure. It was no longer than a fraction of a second, and yet it was still enough to rob her of her defence. Her sword, it froze midair, almost like the thrown rock… The Arresting Eye, it must be a usage of the Waerings' bloodline!
It will not be enough to save him, yet it should still be filed away for future reference. Knowledge is power, as the saying goes, and such information is worth its weight in gold.
As the shield stays the course and follows her movements exact, the motion drawing a certain idea in her head. The shield is a curious weapon for a Waering; just as it protects the user, it also robs him of his vision. A smile creeps along her face as she considers just what that means—and catches sight of the next two minions in the polished gleam of the boss.
They leap into action, trying to catch her off-guard, only for their weapons to find nothing but wind as she darts forward. Three steps bring her to her goal as a fourth sends her rocketing into the air—not high enough to sail over Holman, but instead to give her the perfect angle. Her foot touches down on the shield's surface as Holman staggers from the impact, only to fall back entirely as she kicks off into the sky.
Flipping as she flies, Audrey twists like an acrobatic swan as she closes the distance in an instant. Boots spread at an angle, both men's shoulders crunch as she makes her landing a memorable one. Crying out in pain, one almost manages to wield his knife before he collapses into a writhing mass of broken bones and spilling tears.
Even without her Plate, she was still Audrey Eotenslaga! A group of peasants who didn't know their proper place could never hope to bring her low!
Across from him stands the promising young Squire, Audrey Eotenslaga; her weapon readied yet undrawn, for she knows well that baring cold iron would serve little purpose in the fight ahead. The scabbard-clad blade taps against her shoulder, her own hair whipping through its own breeze. A line has been crossed on this day, and there is no going back.
His malice dwelt on her tongue like bitter medicine. His spine stood taller than any ship's mast, his pride unrelenting in its totality. Muscles lay thick on his arms, the product of years of martial training. And yet, for all his efforts, he would be little more than a stumbling block had she her armour.
Which was precisely why he chose now of all times to make his move.
As the wind howled and the two fighters sized each other up, Audrey let her thoughts run rampant as she scoured her mental library for any information on her foe-to-be. The most dangerous aspect is, was, and will be the Waering Bloodline, for the King does not entrust the role of ealdorman to those of weak blood. Though most—if not all—men bear a bloodline of somesorts, it is the rare lineage that can claim a strength as fierce as the Waerings. The Arresting Eye, bearing the feathered mark of frost upon the pupil, freezes all it witnesses in a shroud of time and space. All movements halted, all momentum gone, it is a bloodline worthy of the role indeed.
As no lineage is eager to reveal the true limits of their blood-derived might, the rumours surrounding the Waerings' Arresting Eye can only be clouded with obfuscation and myth. However, some truth must lurk in the dark recesses. If the Waerings' power truly does centre on their eyesight, then Audrey has but one option before her.
Audrey takes two steps forward, her backfoot acting the shovel as it hooks beneath a small stone. Sliding forwards, the stone whips into the air as the scabbard-clad flat of her blade strikes with a thunderous clap. The rock blurs, darting through the air like an arrow carried by the wind, as Holman's eyes grow wider than saucers.
As if the hand of God Himself had held it so, the stone freezes mid-flight as Holman Waering sets his gaze upon it. Odd, really. Though his shield would stand firm against the blow, he still used his bloodline's strength to halt it in its path. Surely he should know the quality of his shield, that it would shrug off such a simple strike with relative ease? Or, perhaps, he does not?
Useful information for later, of course, but he had already blundered; he took his eyes off Audrey and left his garbage unprotected. How rude of him, how unsightly.
It was the utmost simplicity to fuel her faith-forged body with a storm of Fervour. Extending both arms outward while blurring into motion, she hooks two foes by their necks as their hama fields struggle and strive and fail to repulse her. Momentum carrying her forward, the crunch of breaking hama accompanies the flying minions as they sail through the air. Collapsing in a pile of limbs and weapons, the minions kiss the dirt most fervently as they writhe and groan at Audrey's feet—a position most fitting for ones such as them.
The smile on her face freezes as Holman takes advantage of her brief off-balance. His shield held high to cover his charge, the Thane-to-be darts forward with all the speed of an iron-legged rabbit. The miscreant's spear gleams with strength untold as shimmering maegen quivers freely along its length.
Audrey's sword twists to block, only for the motion to catch and the spear to slip past her guard. Sparks fly as the spear strikes true against her hama, her teeth grinding together as she bounces away from the blow.
The shield follows her movements as she reels back, her mind racing to make sense of her failure. It was no longer than a fraction of a second, and yet it was still enough to rob her of her defence. Her sword, it froze midair, almost like the thrown rock… The Arresting Eye, it must be a usage of the Waerings' bloodline!
It will not be enough to save him, yet it should still be filed away for future reference. Knowledge is power, as the saying goes, and such information is worth its weight in gold.
As the shield stays the course and follows her movements exact, the motion drawing a certain idea in her head. The shield is a curious weapon for a Waering; just as it protects the user, it also robs him of his vision. A smile creeps along her face as she considers just what that means—and catches sight of the next two minions in the polished gleam of the boss.
They leap into action, trying to catch her off-guard, only for their weapons to find nothing but wind as she darts forward. Three steps bring her to her goal as a fourth sends her rocketing into the air—not high enough to sail over Holman, but instead to give her the perfect angle. Her foot touches down on the shield's surface as Holman staggers from the impact, only to fall back entirely as she kicks off into the sky.
Flipping as she flies, Audrey twists like an acrobatic swan as she closes the distance in an instant. Boots spread at an angle, both men's shoulders crunch as she makes her landing a memorable one. Crying out in pain, one almost manages to wield his knife before he collapses into a writhing mass of broken bones and spilling tears.
Even without her Plate, she was still Audrey Eotenslaga! A group of peasants who didn't know their proper place could never hope to bring her low!
CedeTheBees
Probably high right now
- Location
- Somewhere
- Pronouns
- They/Them
Oh god it's all gonna go horribly wrong
Turn 6.3 - The Training Ground Clash
Alectai
Speaks Words of Wisdom... On occasion
Blue meets green as wind blows, two of Warwick's youth staring each other down. Holman Waering stands with arms crossed and his hair riding the winds like some malevolent warhorse, a confident sneer on his well-groomed face—where others his age touted the hints of facial hair growing in clingy patches on their faces, Holman felt no need for such theatrics.
Across from him stands the promising young Squire, Audrey Eotenslaga; her weapon readied yet undrawn, for she knows well that baring cold iron would serve little purpose in the fight ahead. The scabbard-clad blade taps against her shoulder, her own hair whipping through its own breeze. A line has been crossed on this day, and there is no going back.
His malice dwelt on her tongue like bitter medicine. His spine stood taller than any ship's mast, his pride unrelenting in its totality. Muscles lay thick on his arms, the product of years of martial training. And yet, for all his efforts, he would be little more than a stumbling block had she her armour.
Which was precisely why he chose now of all times to make his move.
As the wind howled and the two fighters sized each other up, Audrey let her thoughts run rampant as she scoured her mental library for any information on her foe-to-be. The most dangerous aspect is, was, and will be the Waering Bloodline, for the King does not entrust the role of ealdorman to those of weak blood. Though most—if not all—men bear a bloodline of somesorts, it is the rare lineage that can claim a strength as fierce as the Waerings. The Arresting Eye, bearing the feathered mark of frost upon the pupil, freezes all it witnesses in a shroud of time and space. All movements halted, all momentum gone, it is a bloodline worthy of the role indeed.
As no lineage is eager to reveal the true limits of their blood-derived might, the rumours surrounding the Waerings' Arresting Eye can only be clouded with obfuscation and myth. However, some truth must lurk in the dark recesses. If the Waerings' power truly does centre on their eyesight, then Audrey has but one option before her.
Audrey takes two steps forward, her backfoot acting the shovel as it hooks beneath a small stone. Sliding forwards, the stone whips into the air as the scabbard-clad flat of her blade strikes with a thunderous clap. The rock blurs, darting through the air like an arrow carried by the wind, as Holman's eyes grow wider than saucers.
As if the hand of God Himself had held it so, the stone freezes mid-flight as Holman Waering sets his gaze upon it. Odd, really. Though his shield would stand firm against the blow, he still used his bloodline's strength to halt it in its path. Surely he should know the quality of his shield, that it would shrug off such a simple strike with relative ease? Or, perhaps, he does not?
Useful information for later, of course, but he had already blundered; he took his eyes off Audrey and left his garbage unprotected. How rude of him, how unsightly.
It was the utmost simplicity to fuel her faith-forged body with a storm of Fervour. Extending both arms outward while blurring into motion, she hooks two foes by their necks as their hama fields struggle and strive and fail to repulse her. Momentum carrying her forward, the crunch of breaking hama accompanies the flying minions as they sail through the air. Collapsing in a pile of limbs and weapons, the minions kiss the dirt most fervently as they writhe and groan at Audrey's feet—a position most fitting for ones such as them.
The smile on her face freezes as Holman takes advantage of her brief off-balance. His shield held high to cover his charge, the Thane-to-be darts forward with all the speed of an iron-legged rabbit. The miscreant's spear gleams with strength untold as shimmering maegen quivers freely along its length. Though dulled for training purposes, the spear would still hurt should she feel its bite.
Audrey's sword twists to block, only for the motion to catch and the spear to slip past her guard. Sparks fly as the spear strikes true against her hama, her teeth grinding together as she bounces away from the blow.
The shield follows her movements as she reels back, her mind racing to make sense of her failure. It was no longer than a fraction of a second, and yet it was still enough to rob her of her defence. Her sword, it froze midair, almost like the thrown rock… The Arresting Eye, it must be a usage of the Waerings' bloodline!
It will not be enough to save him, yet it should still be filed away for future reference. Knowledge is power, as the saying goes, and such information is worth its weight in gold.
As the shield stays the course and follows her movements exact, the motion drawing a certain idea in her head. The shield is a curious weapon for a Waering; just as it protects the user, it also robs him of his vision. A smile creeps along her face as she considers just what that means—and catches sight of the next two minions in the polished gleam of the boss.
They leap into action, trying to catch her off-guard, only for their weapons to find nothing but wind as she darts forward. Three steps bring her to her goal as a fourth sends her rocketing into the air—not high enough to sail over Holman, but instead to give her the perfect angle. Her foot touches down on the shield's surface as Holman staggers from the impact, only to fall back entirely as she kicks off into the sky.
Flipping as she flies, Audrey twists like an acrobatic swan as she closes the distance in an instant. Boots spread at an angle, both men's shoulders crunch as she makes her landing a memorable one. Crying out in pain, one almost manages to wield his knife before he collapses into a writhing mass of broken bones and spilling tears.
Even without her plate, she was still Audrey Eotenslaga! A group of peasants who didn't know their proper place could never hope to lay her low!
Still, their numbers gave them one advantage; it stole her attention away from her true foe.
Holman's spear darts forward, the shining tip nearly catching Audrey's cheek as she ducks aside at the last moment. Holman's stance shifts as his hand slides up the shaft and his thrust smoothly shifts into a downward swipe that Audrey only barely manages to dodge with a sharp backstep, only for Holman's offhand to press against the spearbutt and for the maegen-enhanced spearblade to come hurtling forward once again.
Audrey grits her teeth as fervour fuels her motions, iron-tasting blood pooling in her mouth with the scrap of a cheek on bone-white teeth. The speartip slides beneath her armpit as she steps forward, her offhand catching the leather-wrapped blade as she wraps her arm around the spearhaft. Arresting the weapon between her bicep and body, her stride carries her down the shaft as Holman's eyes widen.
A spark flashes in his eye as the world slows down a half-step, the ice-like feathering strengthening in his gaze. The poise and confidence on his face had vanished with the summary dismissal of his minions, replaced with a thin-lipped grit undercut by a growing panic. He's going to use his bloodline—just as expected.
When Audrey threw the rock, she had noticed something particularly interesting about how Holman's eyes appear moments before his bloodline triggers. A normal person's eyes can only open so far before they hit their limits, but it appears that the Waerings have no such limits. A full one-hundred-and-eighty degrees of eyelid-spreading action heralds the usage of their bloodline—and provides a convenient target for the clever fighter.
Alas, neither of Audrey's hands can take advantage of such an opportunity. Which is why her mouth purses and a spray of blood takes leave of her lips. Normal spit might be too clear for her plan to work—supposedly, the Waerings can use their bloodline through windows and on those cloaked in invisibility—so blood should hopefully be opaque enough to do the trick.
Misty blood heralds Audrey's advance as Holman's eyes widen to their maximum and the feathering reaches its zenith. Like an air bubble encased in a block of ice, the blood mist freezes midair; and leaves Audrey untouched.
Ducking under the mist, Audrey's shoulder drives deep into Holman's sternum as a ragged gasp rips its way through his throat. Never one to relent, Audrey shifts her stance as she slips an arm between his legs and braces a hand against his shoulder. Strength surges through her muscles as, with a ground-shaking roar, she hoists the bastard up onto her shoulders and pivots on the spot; locking gazes with the first two of Holman's toadies just as they finish clambering back to their feet.
They gulp, Holman gulps, and Audrey grins as she tips the Waering scion over and hurls him at his minions. Skin smacks skin with a hefty crunch as the foes crumple into a pile of broken limbs and groaning bodies.
A bead of sweat spills down Audrey's brow as she looks upon her handiwork, the grin spreading into a full-blown smile as she does. In less than half-a-minute, she'd turned this little brawl from a five-on-one into a much more traditional duel; Holman, after all, was the only one of her foes left in anything resembling fighting condition.
Cracking her neck, Audrey drives her sword—scabbard and all—into the ground as she plants hands on hips. "You seem to be operating under the impression," Audrey begins as Holman staggers to his feet, the shield slung about his back having taken most of the throw's damage, "that I am here only by virtue of my birth, by mere social status, or by the whim of the Almighty Lord." Audrey's grin never wavers as her blood stains her teeth red, her slashed-through eyes shining with the funeral pyre-glow of ten-thousand dead giants. "Allow me to correct that misconception."
An audible gulp sounds to her rear as Gilbert swallows something in his throat. The chattering of teeth reaches her ear as his nerves get the better of him, but Audrey dares not turn to look; for taking her eyes off her foe would be a mistake most unbecoming of the Eotenslaga's Heiress.
A good choice, for Holman regains his posture quicker than expected. His breathing evens out as he settles into a fighting posture. To his credit, he has clearly been trained well. Despite the folly of youth, his training reasserts itself as the cracked shield never exposes more than is necessary.
Still, the sight of the battered and bruised Holman facing off against her—Audrey Eotenslaga—brings nothing but cruel humour to her lips.
"Face it, keep this up and you'll die before you get to see my ascendance. You're not my match and you never will be; you're no Chivalric, after all."
Holman Waering freezes for a moment as Audrey's words strike him harder than any swordstrike could ever hope. A tooth chips from the clenching pressure as veins pop out on his neck and brow. "Like hell I will!" He spits, the air seeming to sizzle with his acrid words. "Your very existence mocks everything my kin have done, all the sacrifices we've made. I won't have some fucking bitch-spawn whore sit at the same table as those who've earned it!"
Audrey blinks.
A beat of silence stretches on for far too long as the words twist over and over again between them.
The sharp click of loosening leather straps rings out across the barren training ground. Audrey's sword, a going-away present from her parents when she graduated from Pagehood, slips free its bonds as its razor sharp edge greets the air.
"I wouldn't, if I were you," a relaxed, lackadaisical voice filters between the Thane-in-training and Squire of the Third Decade, "after all, you're working on borrowed time."
The source of the voice makes himself known as Hathwic Aikening drops down from the tree branch he'd been reclining in. Landing with a slight bounce, the young man swaggers towards the two fighters with his hands in his pockets and his eyes lowered in half-lids.
"Why are you here, Aikening?" Holman scowls as he leans on his spear, Audrey barely having moved to acknowledge the new arrival.
"To let you know that, if you don't make like a tree and get outta here," Hathwic snorts as he comes to a rocking stop, "you'll be knee-deep in Knights and Thanes all too eager to dish out punishments."
Holman's scowl deepens as he shifts his stance. "Did you snitch?"
"Nah," Hathwic scoffs as he pantomimes a yawn, "just happened to catch a whisper or two on the ol' grapevine," he winks before adding, his voice losing its relaxed timbre, "Still, you should really get going while you've got the chance."
"Audrey?" Gilbert's willowy voice draws a twitch from Audrey, her hands never having left her sword for an instant, "W-we should really leave…"
Across the way, Holman's men voice similar desires to their scowl-ridden master. "Fine, fine!" Holman huffs as he whirls around, but not before stopping to jab a pointed finger Audrey's way, "But this isn't over, Eotenslaga!"
A hundred clever responses flash through Audrey's mind, breaking through the haze of red that had fallen across her consciousness. Alas, the shock of sudden clarity leaves her grasping the least of them all, "My thoughts exactly, Waering."
Holman, with the aid of Hathwic, hefts his fallen minions onto his shoulders before departing the training field. The sound of approaching cultivators filling their ears, Audrey and Gilbert soon mirror the exit with one of their own.
0~0~0
Once Audrey and Gilbert find themselves clear of the training grounds and with no sign of any pursuers, Gilbert swallows the lump in his throat as he tugs on Audrey's sleeve. "Audrey?"
Audrey forces herself to take a deep breath, her heart hammering in her ears as adrenaline pulses through her veins. But even with the drumbeat cacophony engulfing her in sound, she feels an odd calmness flow about her body as she regards her shorter companion, "Yes, Gilbert?"
"I'm," he takes a breath of his own, "I'm sorry. I should have helped you! Instead…" He sighs, collapsing in on himself, "I-I'm a coward."
Audrey purses her lips, the haze of unfulfilled violence still clouding her thoughts and rendering her nearly speechless. She should say something, anything, yet nothing but silence comes to mind.
By all the grace of the Lord, however, Gilbert has his own voice to use, "A-and I hate that." He swallows again as he finds his footing, his spine straightening to its full height, "Audrey Eotenslaga, can you help me find my courage?"
"Gilbert of Loxdale," Audrey nearly stumbles as the words explode out of her, the sudden deluge nearly taking her clear off her feet, "I would be honoured to."
Besides, training with Gilbert would give her a golden opportunity to clear her mind of this Waering business. In time, she will see this rivalry settled, and that's a fact, but she has more important things to focus on right now; namely, next year's tournament.
0~0~0
For the next six months Audrey does the following things. Note that, as part of the change to longer turns and due to her continued devotion to going to as many masses as possible, she is simply assumed to be doing that from here on out, and it may not be included in any plans.
[ ] Example Plan
-[ ] [Focus Action] Insert Action Choice Here
-[ ] [Secondary Action] Insert Action Choice Here
-[ ] [Secondary Action] Insert Action Choice Here
-[X] [Chancellery] Pick Red-Black Lightning
-[ ] Training and Zeal (28 Training, 42 Zeal)
–[ ] Spend 28 Training on whatever you desire (14 at most may be spent on Feats and Shapes)
–[ ] Spend 0-42 Zeal on ???
0~0~0
AN: This was a rollercoaster to write. We had a four round combat event rolled out that was razor thin close, as Audrey's thumb-posing ended up backfiring to a degree and Holman reminding the world why the Waerings and the Arresting Eye are in charge here, but then we got to this part of the revisions, realize we kind of wrote ourselves into a corner, and spent most of today figuring out what to do, so we ended up throwing out the last three rounds and having Hathwic interrupt the fight.
Still, that's what writing in a team is for! I'd have just gone and lemminged into it because it was a cool fight with wrestling moves and all and then found myself in a position where I've closed off all the plot threads for the next in game year. Oops? Thanks a lot IF for your great idea on how we could change tacks here!
So yeah, Holman Waering is your Enemy, at least for now. What are you going to do about it? I dunno, that's up to you guys! Think carefully about how you intend to navigate this, because how you handle this situation is going to inform a lot of the opinion on Audrey in the foreseeable future.
After all, anyone can kill your foes, who can navigate the rich and wonderful realm of politics after all? Not too many people indeed!
Across from him stands the promising young Squire, Audrey Eotenslaga; her weapon readied yet undrawn, for she knows well that baring cold iron would serve little purpose in the fight ahead. The scabbard-clad blade taps against her shoulder, her own hair whipping through its own breeze. A line has been crossed on this day, and there is no going back.
His malice dwelt on her tongue like bitter medicine. His spine stood taller than any ship's mast, his pride unrelenting in its totality. Muscles lay thick on his arms, the product of years of martial training. And yet, for all his efforts, he would be little more than a stumbling block had she her armour.
Which was precisely why he chose now of all times to make his move.
As the wind howled and the two fighters sized each other up, Audrey let her thoughts run rampant as she scoured her mental library for any information on her foe-to-be. The most dangerous aspect is, was, and will be the Waering Bloodline, for the King does not entrust the role of ealdorman to those of weak blood. Though most—if not all—men bear a bloodline of somesorts, it is the rare lineage that can claim a strength as fierce as the Waerings. The Arresting Eye, bearing the feathered mark of frost upon the pupil, freezes all it witnesses in a shroud of time and space. All movements halted, all momentum gone, it is a bloodline worthy of the role indeed.
As no lineage is eager to reveal the true limits of their blood-derived might, the rumours surrounding the Waerings' Arresting Eye can only be clouded with obfuscation and myth. However, some truth must lurk in the dark recesses. If the Waerings' power truly does centre on their eyesight, then Audrey has but one option before her.
Audrey takes two steps forward, her backfoot acting the shovel as it hooks beneath a small stone. Sliding forwards, the stone whips into the air as the scabbard-clad flat of her blade strikes with a thunderous clap. The rock blurs, darting through the air like an arrow carried by the wind, as Holman's eyes grow wider than saucers.
As if the hand of God Himself had held it so, the stone freezes mid-flight as Holman Waering sets his gaze upon it. Odd, really. Though his shield would stand firm against the blow, he still used his bloodline's strength to halt it in its path. Surely he should know the quality of his shield, that it would shrug off such a simple strike with relative ease? Or, perhaps, he does not?
Useful information for later, of course, but he had already blundered; he took his eyes off Audrey and left his garbage unprotected. How rude of him, how unsightly.
It was the utmost simplicity to fuel her faith-forged body with a storm of Fervour. Extending both arms outward while blurring into motion, she hooks two foes by their necks as their hama fields struggle and strive and fail to repulse her. Momentum carrying her forward, the crunch of breaking hama accompanies the flying minions as they sail through the air. Collapsing in a pile of limbs and weapons, the minions kiss the dirt most fervently as they writhe and groan at Audrey's feet—a position most fitting for ones such as them.
The smile on her face freezes as Holman takes advantage of her brief off-balance. His shield held high to cover his charge, the Thane-to-be darts forward with all the speed of an iron-legged rabbit. The miscreant's spear gleams with strength untold as shimmering maegen quivers freely along its length. Though dulled for training purposes, the spear would still hurt should she feel its bite.
Audrey's sword twists to block, only for the motion to catch and the spear to slip past her guard. Sparks fly as the spear strikes true against her hama, her teeth grinding together as she bounces away from the blow.
The shield follows her movements as she reels back, her mind racing to make sense of her failure. It was no longer than a fraction of a second, and yet it was still enough to rob her of her defence. Her sword, it froze midair, almost like the thrown rock… The Arresting Eye, it must be a usage of the Waerings' bloodline!
It will not be enough to save him, yet it should still be filed away for future reference. Knowledge is power, as the saying goes, and such information is worth its weight in gold.
As the shield stays the course and follows her movements exact, the motion drawing a certain idea in her head. The shield is a curious weapon for a Waering; just as it protects the user, it also robs him of his vision. A smile creeps along her face as she considers just what that means—and catches sight of the next two minions in the polished gleam of the boss.
They leap into action, trying to catch her off-guard, only for their weapons to find nothing but wind as she darts forward. Three steps bring her to her goal as a fourth sends her rocketing into the air—not high enough to sail over Holman, but instead to give her the perfect angle. Her foot touches down on the shield's surface as Holman staggers from the impact, only to fall back entirely as she kicks off into the sky.
Flipping as she flies, Audrey twists like an acrobatic swan as she closes the distance in an instant. Boots spread at an angle, both men's shoulders crunch as she makes her landing a memorable one. Crying out in pain, one almost manages to wield his knife before he collapses into a writhing mass of broken bones and spilling tears.
Even without her plate, she was still Audrey Eotenslaga! A group of peasants who didn't know their proper place could never hope to lay her low!
Still, their numbers gave them one advantage; it stole her attention away from her true foe.
Holman's spear darts forward, the shining tip nearly catching Audrey's cheek as she ducks aside at the last moment. Holman's stance shifts as his hand slides up the shaft and his thrust smoothly shifts into a downward swipe that Audrey only barely manages to dodge with a sharp backstep, only for Holman's offhand to press against the spearbutt and for the maegen-enhanced spearblade to come hurtling forward once again.
Audrey grits her teeth as fervour fuels her motions, iron-tasting blood pooling in her mouth with the scrap of a cheek on bone-white teeth. The speartip slides beneath her armpit as she steps forward, her offhand catching the leather-wrapped blade as she wraps her arm around the spearhaft. Arresting the weapon between her bicep and body, her stride carries her down the shaft as Holman's eyes widen.
A spark flashes in his eye as the world slows down a half-step, the ice-like feathering strengthening in his gaze. The poise and confidence on his face had vanished with the summary dismissal of his minions, replaced with a thin-lipped grit undercut by a growing panic. He's going to use his bloodline—just as expected.
When Audrey threw the rock, she had noticed something particularly interesting about how Holman's eyes appear moments before his bloodline triggers. A normal person's eyes can only open so far before they hit their limits, but it appears that the Waerings have no such limits. A full one-hundred-and-eighty degrees of eyelid-spreading action heralds the usage of their bloodline—and provides a convenient target for the clever fighter.
Alas, neither of Audrey's hands can take advantage of such an opportunity. Which is why her mouth purses and a spray of blood takes leave of her lips. Normal spit might be too clear for her plan to work—supposedly, the Waerings can use their bloodline through windows and on those cloaked in invisibility—so blood should hopefully be opaque enough to do the trick.
Misty blood heralds Audrey's advance as Holman's eyes widen to their maximum and the feathering reaches its zenith. Like an air bubble encased in a block of ice, the blood mist freezes midair; and leaves Audrey untouched.
Ducking under the mist, Audrey's shoulder drives deep into Holman's sternum as a ragged gasp rips its way through his throat. Never one to relent, Audrey shifts her stance as she slips an arm between his legs and braces a hand against his shoulder. Strength surges through her muscles as, with a ground-shaking roar, she hoists the bastard up onto her shoulders and pivots on the spot; locking gazes with the first two of Holman's toadies just as they finish clambering back to their feet.
They gulp, Holman gulps, and Audrey grins as she tips the Waering scion over and hurls him at his minions. Skin smacks skin with a hefty crunch as the foes crumple into a pile of broken limbs and groaning bodies.
A bead of sweat spills down Audrey's brow as she looks upon her handiwork, the grin spreading into a full-blown smile as she does. In less than half-a-minute, she'd turned this little brawl from a five-on-one into a much more traditional duel; Holman, after all, was the only one of her foes left in anything resembling fighting condition.
Cracking her neck, Audrey drives her sword—scabbard and all—into the ground as she plants hands on hips. "You seem to be operating under the impression," Audrey begins as Holman staggers to his feet, the shield slung about his back having taken most of the throw's damage, "that I am here only by virtue of my birth, by mere social status, or by the whim of the Almighty Lord." Audrey's grin never wavers as her blood stains her teeth red, her slashed-through eyes shining with the funeral pyre-glow of ten-thousand dead giants. "Allow me to correct that misconception."
An audible gulp sounds to her rear as Gilbert swallows something in his throat. The chattering of teeth reaches her ear as his nerves get the better of him, but Audrey dares not turn to look; for taking her eyes off her foe would be a mistake most unbecoming of the Eotenslaga's Heiress.
A good choice, for Holman regains his posture quicker than expected. His breathing evens out as he settles into a fighting posture. To his credit, he has clearly been trained well. Despite the folly of youth, his training reasserts itself as the cracked shield never exposes more than is necessary.
Still, the sight of the battered and bruised Holman facing off against her—Audrey Eotenslaga—brings nothing but cruel humour to her lips.
"Face it, keep this up and you'll die before you get to see my ascendance. You're not my match and you never will be; you're no Chivalric, after all."
Holman Waering freezes for a moment as Audrey's words strike him harder than any swordstrike could ever hope. A tooth chips from the clenching pressure as veins pop out on his neck and brow. "Like hell I will!" He spits, the air seeming to sizzle with his acrid words. "Your very existence mocks everything my kin have done, all the sacrifices we've made. I won't have some fucking bitch-spawn whore sit at the same table as those who've earned it!"
Audrey blinks.
A beat of silence stretches on for far too long as the words twist over and over again between them.
The sharp click of loosening leather straps rings out across the barren training ground. Audrey's sword, a going-away present from her parents when she graduated from Pagehood, slips free its bonds as its razor sharp edge greets the air.
"I wouldn't, if I were you," a relaxed, lackadaisical voice filters between the Thane-in-training and Squire of the Third Decade, "after all, you're working on borrowed time."
The source of the voice makes himself known as Hathwic Aikening drops down from the tree branch he'd been reclining in. Landing with a slight bounce, the young man swaggers towards the two fighters with his hands in his pockets and his eyes lowered in half-lids.
"Why are you here, Aikening?" Holman scowls as he leans on his spear, Audrey barely having moved to acknowledge the new arrival.
"To let you know that, if you don't make like a tree and get outta here," Hathwic snorts as he comes to a rocking stop, "you'll be knee-deep in Knights and Thanes all too eager to dish out punishments."
Holman's scowl deepens as he shifts his stance. "Did you snitch?"
"Nah," Hathwic scoffs as he pantomimes a yawn, "just happened to catch a whisper or two on the ol' grapevine," he winks before adding, his voice losing its relaxed timbre, "Still, you should really get going while you've got the chance."
"Audrey?" Gilbert's willowy voice draws a twitch from Audrey, her hands never having left her sword for an instant, "W-we should really leave…"
Across the way, Holman's men voice similar desires to their scowl-ridden master. "Fine, fine!" Holman huffs as he whirls around, but not before stopping to jab a pointed finger Audrey's way, "But this isn't over, Eotenslaga!"
A hundred clever responses flash through Audrey's mind, breaking through the haze of red that had fallen across her consciousness. Alas, the shock of sudden clarity leaves her grasping the least of them all, "My thoughts exactly, Waering."
Holman, with the aid of Hathwic, hefts his fallen minions onto his shoulders before departing the training field. The sound of approaching cultivators filling their ears, Audrey and Gilbert soon mirror the exit with one of their own.
0~0~0
Once Audrey and Gilbert find themselves clear of the training grounds and with no sign of any pursuers, Gilbert swallows the lump in his throat as he tugs on Audrey's sleeve. "Audrey?"
Audrey forces herself to take a deep breath, her heart hammering in her ears as adrenaline pulses through her veins. But even with the drumbeat cacophony engulfing her in sound, she feels an odd calmness flow about her body as she regards her shorter companion, "Yes, Gilbert?"
"I'm," he takes a breath of his own, "I'm sorry. I should have helped you! Instead…" He sighs, collapsing in on himself, "I-I'm a coward."
Audrey purses her lips, the haze of unfulfilled violence still clouding her thoughts and rendering her nearly speechless. She should say something, anything, yet nothing but silence comes to mind.
By all the grace of the Lord, however, Gilbert has his own voice to use, "A-and I hate that." He swallows again as he finds his footing, his spine straightening to its full height, "Audrey Eotenslaga, can you help me find my courage?"
"Gilbert of Loxdale," Audrey nearly stumbles as the words explode out of her, the sudden deluge nearly taking her clear off her feet, "I would be honoured to."
Besides, training with Gilbert would give her a golden opportunity to clear her mind of this Waering business. In time, she will see this rivalry settled, and that's a fact, but she has more important things to focus on right now; namely, next year's tournament.
0~0~0
For the next six months Audrey does the following things. Note that, as part of the change to longer turns and due to her continued devotion to going to as many masses as possible, she is simply assumed to be doing that from here on out, and it may not be included in any plans.
[ ] Example Plan
-[ ] [Focus Action] Insert Action Choice Here
-[ ] [Secondary Action] Insert Action Choice Here
-[ ] [Secondary Action] Insert Action Choice Here
-[X] [Chancellery] Pick Red-Black Lightning
-[ ] Training and Zeal (28 Training, 42 Zeal)
–[ ] Spend 28 Training on whatever you desire (14 at most may be spent on Feats and Shapes)
–[ ] Spend 0-42 Zeal on ???
0~0~0
AN: This was a rollercoaster to write. We had a four round combat event rolled out that was razor thin close, as Audrey's thumb-posing ended up backfiring to a degree and Holman reminding the world why the Waerings and the Arresting Eye are in charge here, but then we got to this part of the revisions, realize we kind of wrote ourselves into a corner, and spent most of today figuring out what to do, so we ended up throwing out the last three rounds and having Hathwic interrupt the fight.
Still, that's what writing in a team is for! I'd have just gone and lemminged into it because it was a cool fight with wrestling moves and all and then found myself in a position where I've closed off all the plot threads for the next in game year. Oops? Thanks a lot IF for your great idea on how we could change tacks here!
So yeah, Holman Waering is your Enemy, at least for now. What are you going to do about it? I dunno, that's up to you guys! Think carefully about how you intend to navigate this, because how you handle this situation is going to inform a lot of the opinion on Audrey in the foreseeable future.
After all, anyone can kill your foes, who can navigate the rich and wonderful realm of politics after all? Not too many people indeed!
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I.F. Ister
Fortifying The Thread
- Pronouns
- He/They
No problem, it's what I'm here for
- Location
- PA
Sounds like in the alternate timeline where the fight plays out Audrey loses, but both got maimed in a way that basically turned the feud into the sort of childish dispute into 'the powers that be have to re-write their plans due to effectively a damn-fool thing in the Balkans forcing a rift when it could be ill-afforded!' In a manner where Audrey and Holman get sat down and sternly talked to.
IDK if Get-out of Death cards are things Knights can do or if that's Norseman only, but I suspect losing the year and the tournament to a shameful back-alley fight would definitely have been a swerve to the arc of both Knight's careers, and might end with an unsatisfactory 'no tournament but you now have Gillman as a whipping boy/servant and totally not a permanent reminder of your folly!' For Audrey, and Holman probably gets the humiliation of having to personally apologize as an adult plus some degree of compensation to the Estalonga family as a whole…
And of course, the actual feud probably still burns, especially on Audrey's side, but that's a factor for later…
Hrrm.
Seems to me the actual problem is that the Estalonga are expensive mercenaries made such in part by the anger of slighted Vassals, who maybe aren't seeing, or don't care, that they've not the numbers to fight the battles that need to be dealt with, or the strength to actually fight them.
IDK if Get-out of Death cards are things Knights can do or if that's Norseman only, but I suspect losing the year and the tournament to a shameful back-alley fight would definitely have been a swerve to the arc of both Knight's careers, and might end with an unsatisfactory 'no tournament but you now have Gillman as a whipping boy/servant and totally not a permanent reminder of your folly!' For Audrey, and Holman probably gets the humiliation of having to personally apologize as an adult plus some degree of compensation to the Estalonga family as a whole…
And of course, the actual feud probably still burns, especially on Audrey's side, but that's a factor for later…
Hrrm.
Seems to me the actual problem is that the Estalonga are expensive mercenaries made such in part by the anger of slighted Vassals, who maybe aren't seeing, or don't care, that they've not the numbers to fight the battles that need to be dealt with, or the strength to actually fight them.
What is the essence of the conflict?
Isn't the cultivation of Thanes dominating the Anglo-Saxon world now, which should make them more privileged than the Carolingian cultivators?