RP:Spear Me The Details
This is a Warrior's Guild RP.
Summary: Lionel tests the abilities of Rorin's holy magic and the strength of his shield-arm. Both opponents wield spears and trade wits.
Frostmaw: Snowless Training Yard
Rorin set himself to training once more in the Academy Yard. He wore nothing considered training gear, merely a doublet with work pants, gloves, and boots. Around his hips was a belt for his lance, which he held in different positions for practice. For now the 16 year old half elf boy practiced against a temporary golem summoned by one of the flourite orbs. His black hair matted with a bit of sweat while his clear gray eyes were drawn in concentration. He was in the midst of striking practice, when he called to the trainer on stand by to change the terrain according to Rorins memory. The squares darkened as trees began to eupt with Rorin meditating in their midst. He might be able to get in one more set before Lionel arrives…
Lionel chooses to hike the distance from Síocháin, dressed in a color other than black for a change. Green is the order of the day, although it’s still thin silks for shirt and slacks alike. In his left grip is the hilt to a silvery wooden spear; all his swords, even Hellfire, are tucked safely at home or Fort Frostmaw. He hums an old Catalian tune, trudging through snow and ice and three shades of grass, and studies Rorin’s technique from afar once he arrives. Quietly, he dismisses the on-site instructor. “Your form has improved,” he announces his presence, kicking off from the wall where he’d rested his foot and stepping into the yard. He’ll maintain his distance from the golem, waiting for Rorin to finish the job, but by the look of his weapon he’s obviously eager to begin. He’s got another wooden spear in his opposite grip, now, bronze in shade and ready for his squire to wield.
Rorin meditated amidst the sudden woodland the instructor had erected in the snowless training yard. Into the woods the Knight Commander approaches however. Rorin smiles, "thanks," he said rather informally, resting the back of his odd bladed lance across his shoulders. "I was about to practice a new set." He looked about in the woods. They had been constructed from a white line touching some of the runes on the nearby orb. If Lionel cared to study the surroundings he may notice they strike as oddly familiar. This was the exact position drawn from Rorins memory that they had issued the portal jump attack during Sauringate.
Lionel snickers as a certain memory is evoked. “We aren’t gonna be surrounded by saurians, are we? Big gorram stampede? I left Hellfire in the living room. Although…” He eyes Rorin considerably. “You shielded the queen and I something fierce the other day. I’m willing to hedge my bets that ability of yours comes in handy many times over in the years to come. Heads-up.” The silvery wooden spear in his left hold is repositioned to slam into the loamy soil, while the bronzish wooden spear in his right is tossed forward for his squire to catch. “Come at me with that thing, would you? I want to test something. If any artificial reptilian constructs should happen to arise in the middle of our spar, I’ll be sure to kick them in the crotch and tell them to wait their turn.” Lionel once won a death duel with a kick to the crotch, after all. Oh, to be young again.
Rorin looked around smiling, "the saurians were just supposed to be big rocks. Easy targets," he wouldn't explain quite why yet. Maybe that could be shown later. "I'll thank you once more," he said as Rorin felt his shield was his life, and his life was what he protected- what he loved. That ability had gotten him out of and into more problems than he could count. The paladin-hopeful would catch the bronze spear in his right hand, an oddity to be considered. Rorins main hand has always been his left, "spears eh? I can work with that." And perhaps even demonstrate what he'd been working on exactly. Rorin would belt his lance, which didn't quite require a sheath but rather a loop, and hold stance with the spear. Not sloppy but not quite efficient- the spear among other long weapons had never been Rorins favorite but he'd seen extensive training with it. "You sure you're ready, old timer? I won't go easy on you," he smirked- already enjoying himself. It had been some time since he had gotten a spar with Lionel. They were both always busy and perhaps these little spars were somewhat therapuetic for them. Rorin seemed to have ditched his rather sour mood at least.
Lionel lifts his right hand, now free, but only to pull two fingers toward him mockingly. “Aye, give an old man a workout. Just go easy on the back. I’m twenty-nine, now, not twenty-three.” He winks an azure eye, then moves. In a mere couple of blinks, he’s bolted over to a tree and tucked his lithe body behind it. The emerald shades of his clothing even do surprisingly well to camouflage -- not that Rorin would ever have difficulty knowing where Lionel has went in a field like this, but there will be a bit of a blur to the Knight-Commander’s movements in this shrubbery. And that blur is properly demonstrated. From tree to tree, Lionel stalks, always with his spear brought close to his side to minimize his overall size. Once or twice, he ducks low beneath various tangled bushes, and suddenly he’ll leap from one such bush, a flurry of leaves partially masking his approach. The spear is thrust forward menacingly, as if to skewer if this wood could skewer, but at the last second he whips it back midway and arcs its tip up toward Rorin’s skull instead.
Rorin intended to strike first but it appeared as if Lionel would prefer to play hide and seek. Instead of watching him- he could, easily, Rorins perceptiveness had been noted well before- the squires clear gray eyes simply closed. He stood loosely, deep breaths, meditating. He was listening. Lionels movements weren't heavy but they certainly weren't masked either and so the stillness of the squire had a different sort of sight on him. Rorin had turned, a half step, the tip of his spear to the ground- and channeled a large amount of holy force under him, shooting him forward under Lionels leaping form. The tip of the spear had left a trail of light embedded in the ground and as he brought it up the streak flashed upwards in pillars of light. Normally Rorin would have meant harm with these but as it was only a training exercise nothing more than a dull flash needed to be used. Turning, Rorin would strike out at the middle of Lionels back with the full length of the spear, hoping he was stunned long enough to make contact.
Lionel is suitably stunned, although the fast action of closing his own eyes has eased the impact. Without vision, however, the man is rarely truly impaired, but rather marginally inconvenienced. With the foresight that Rorin would undoubtedly strike from behind as he turns, Lionel’s first instinct is to swing his spear backward even as he leaps, the very instant he senses Rorin’s displacement. Thus, the two spears smack to a stalemate and the Catalian lands safely on the ground behind them. Given that Lionel had attacked with his left side, however, he’s had to swing his arm across his body to deflect Rorin’s attack and now he’s briefly curled and entangled in his own machinations. It doesn’t take long for him to correct this, and by now, he’s charging, kicking up dirt and making way for his opponent. Of course, nothing with the Hero of Hellfire is ever a straight line segment. He zigzags, erratically, even going so far as to rip a tree branch and then feign at throwing it only to toss it to the side instead. When at last it appears he’s going in for the strike, he feints, first with a quick jab to the east, then with a quicker stab toward Rorin’s chest, but then he ducks and whips the spear sharply to the boy’s hip, whooshing wind.
Rorin 's spear is dismissed to his advantage, allowing him to momentarily deflect Lionels own upward and close some ground. But there the Knight Commander goes, as fast as he is precise. Rorins footing matches turn for turn keeping just enough distance for his reflexes to save him when need be. The tree branch was an odd bit- the feignt barely met before Rorin does something no one should expect in the middle of a battle scene. He turns his spear straight up and steps forward, his right arm vertically, trying to sense a true strike and summon his shield at just the right moment. Should it be struck, Lionel would finally feel what he has so far only seen happen to those others that have fallen victim of the boys usually rather unexpected trick. First, a drop, as if connecting to the target, then, a strange thrum from the point of contact through the whole body lasting barely a moment before just as suddenly as the wall of white-bluish light appeared, it would send them backwards with equal force to which they struck. That may give Rorin just enough space to either charge Lionel head on or show off his next trick. But that was yet to be seen.
Lionel is at first ricocheted backward with ample force. The swoosh of his intended spear assault adds a bit of windy flair to Rorin’s rebuttal, too, but even as the man is sent flying, he punctures his spear into the ground and vaults his entire body right back into the fray at an altered offensive angle with reckless abandon. His legs are outstretched and he’s flying toward Rorin for a full-blown kick while lifting the spear back and grabbing it with both arms. He’s roaring through the air, horizontally outstretched so his feet will crash into the boy’s chest as his spear is swung downward to cleave upon his skull.
Rorin could simply hold up his shield again after Lionel flings himself forward but he'd rather not break Lionels legs, and he's truly hoping that's not in his instructors plans either. Instead he would evoke a glow in his air in twelve spots as he turned the spears head while Lionel did his roundabout and take a deep breath. This would require very precise timing. Tapping into his meditation training Rorin would quicken his reflexes, or rather, perceptively slow down the world around him. As he controlled every muscle of his body Rorin would slash just as Lionel was less than a meter away from him and trigger the spell while falling to the side and backward. The lights woukd first explode- a simple flare spell it would seem, light and force, peircing rays not usually meant to cause a great deal of pain to any but the undead at least not in this size. And then it would happen again. The glowing lights had split, exploded- their rays bouncing into eachother and exploding there too- again and again in a chain reaction that while it could spreas only a few feet directly in front of it, nearly filled that entire 2 meter wide space with peircing rays of light. It was effective, though perhaps not deadly, and if he had managed to time it just right Lionel would be propelling himself into the thick of it. If not Rorins escape roll may end him up with anything between knees to his abdomen, to a spear lodged somewhere near his hip. Perhaps worse!
Rorin could simply hold up his shield again after Lionel flings himself forward but he'd rather not break Lionels legs, and he's truly hoping that's not in his instructors plans either. Instead he would evoke a glow in his air in twelve spots as he turned the spears head while Lionel did his roundabout and take a deep breath. This would require very precise timing. Tapping into his meditation training Rorin would quicken his reflexes, or rather, perceptively slow down the world around him. As he controlled every muscle of his body Rorin would slash just as Lionel was less than a meter away from him and trigger the spell while falling to the side and backward. The lights woukd first explode- a simple flare spell it would seem, light and force, peircing rays not usually meant to cause a great deal of pain to any but the undead at least not in this size. And then it would happen again. The glowing lights had split, exploded- their rays bouncing into eachother and exploding there too- again and again in a chain reaction that while it could spreas only a few feet directly in front of it, nearly filled that entire 2 meter wide space with peircing rays of light. It was effective, though perhaps not deadly, and if he had managed to time it just right Lionel would be propelling himself into the thick of it. If not Rorins escape roll may end him up with anything between knees to his abdomen, to a spear lodged somewhere near his hip. Perhaps worse!
Lionel most assuredly had a plan for that shield should his legs have connected, but it’s a moot point since the squire has rightly motioned wayward and commenced another of his magical attacks. Momentum demands of Lionel that he be swift in stabbing into the dirt all over again, there like a beacon by which to slow himself. But speed is what he needs once more, speed to avoid these explosive rays, and Rorin is swift to elude. Sensing that time is not on his side, Lionel wraps his fists around the center of his spear and hoists it free, swinging it ahead while lunging as if it is a great big extension of his arms with a pointed tip for Rorin’s stomach. It is cast with delicate aim, but Catal’s last prince is not so much the fool as to pause. He’s moving rapidly all-the-while, hopping over brilliant white lights and feeling the surges of power they emit. It weakens his ensuing jump, but he’ll either have struck the squire or he won’t have. Either potentiality will be met with the same resounding shout: “That’s enough for today. You’ve done well focusing your magics -- which means that next time around I will not refrain from giving you some fire.” He’ll smirk, withdraw his weapon, and take the boy out for lunch.
Rorin can only deflect Lionels last attack with his spear! The weapons meet and a potentially fatal blow had Lionels weapon been another soldiers is made into would be a gross wound, etching around the side of his stomach. From there Rorin could perhaps cheap shot him but his teacher pulls the spar to a close. "I look forward to it," Rorin replies as he thinks about that last standing. From there it would have been hand to hand and what then? It would not have been a good place for the squire. Perhaps this was something Lionel knew.