Post by The Seven on Jun 10, 2008 16:40:16 GMT -5
"Here ye! Here ye! Gather 'round folks, the match is about to begin!" Arryk yelled out. "Place your bets now! Winner takes half the pot!" He shouted to the gathering crowd, donning his helmet over his grinning face, before turning to his brother.
Their friend Davey walked around the crowd with a bag, taking bets on which would go down first and how fast. They screamed out their favorite, though it was mixed evenly.
Arryk and Erryk both bowed to each other deeply, twisting their arm as they did so, and collecting laughs from the crowd. They both rose and raised their hand-and-a-half swords.
"I'm the crowd favorite, Erryk. Give up now, or I shall smite you!" Arryk taunted with exaggeration, building the theatrics.
"Not on your life, Arryk! I am the wooer of women," he said, putting on a soft face, "and the defender of honor!" he said, turning his expression into a triumphant face, raising his fist to the sky. The women of the crowd were cheering then, in Erryks favor.
Scoffing, Arryk, pushed down his visor and advanced. The twin's style were identical, as they each mirrored each other's strikes, neither advancing, as though it were rehearsed. When the crowd began to yell for contact, both fighters quickened their strikes, until finally Erryk stepped back and yelled "For the crown!" and kicked Arryk square in the shin, causing him to howl in pain, raising crys of objection and laughter from the crowd, as Erryk lifted his hands in triumph, turning and smiling to the crowd.
Arryk, collecting himself, picks his sword back up and charges Erryk, bringing his sword back for full swing. Erryk, hearing Arryk, barely turns an inch before the sword makes contact with his rear end, sending him to all fours, as an "Oof!" escaped him.
"By the seven!" Erryk cursed, holding his ass with one hand, his sword in the other. "Cheap shot!" he declared, pointing his sword at his brother who shrugged.
"You kicked my shin, you shaggy mammoth," he cursed back, as the crowd cried in amusement.
"You shall pay!" Erryk declared, charging his brother, as they came together again. The match went on until the crowd screamed for a victory, at which time both combatants spun, bringing their swords around and stopping just before the other's next, and both saying "Yield, foe!"
"You yield!" Arryk insisted quietly.
"No! I yielded last time," Erryk hissed.
"Draw?" Arryk suggested in a whisper.
"Fine." Erryk said, as both fighters lifted their swords away.
"It's a draw!" Davey shouted, declaring the match. "Sorry folks! Be sure to come around in a weeks time for the next match, where Arryk insists he will best Erryk," Davey declared, though the crowd could not determine which Davey said would best the other.
As the crowd dispersed, the three came together to count their profit. "Thirty Dragons total." Davey said.
Arryk said absently.
"We really do it for the ladies," Erryk finished, winking at a girl who walked past, making her blush.
Arryk gains +2 Swordsmanship (Now 77)
Erryk gains +3 Swordsmanship (Now 68)
Their friend Davey walked around the crowd with a bag, taking bets on which would go down first and how fast. They screamed out their favorite, though it was mixed evenly.
Arryk and Erryk both bowed to each other deeply, twisting their arm as they did so, and collecting laughs from the crowd. They both rose and raised their hand-and-a-half swords.
"I'm the crowd favorite, Erryk. Give up now, or I shall smite you!" Arryk taunted with exaggeration, building the theatrics.
"Not on your life, Arryk! I am the wooer of women," he said, putting on a soft face, "and the defender of honor!" he said, turning his expression into a triumphant face, raising his fist to the sky. The women of the crowd were cheering then, in Erryks favor.
Scoffing, Arryk, pushed down his visor and advanced. The twin's style were identical, as they each mirrored each other's strikes, neither advancing, as though it were rehearsed. When the crowd began to yell for contact, both fighters quickened their strikes, until finally Erryk stepped back and yelled "For the crown!" and kicked Arryk square in the shin, causing him to howl in pain, raising crys of objection and laughter from the crowd, as Erryk lifted his hands in triumph, turning and smiling to the crowd.
Arryk, collecting himself, picks his sword back up and charges Erryk, bringing his sword back for full swing. Erryk, hearing Arryk, barely turns an inch before the sword makes contact with his rear end, sending him to all fours, as an "Oof!" escaped him.
"By the seven!" Erryk cursed, holding his ass with one hand, his sword in the other. "Cheap shot!" he declared, pointing his sword at his brother who shrugged.
"You kicked my shin, you shaggy mammoth," he cursed back, as the crowd cried in amusement.
"You shall pay!" Erryk declared, charging his brother, as they came together again. The match went on until the crowd screamed for a victory, at which time both combatants spun, bringing their swords around and stopping just before the other's next, and both saying "Yield, foe!"
"You yield!" Arryk insisted quietly.
"No! I yielded last time," Erryk hissed.
"Draw?" Arryk suggested in a whisper.
"Fine." Erryk said, as both fighters lifted their swords away.
"It's a draw!" Davey shouted, declaring the match. "Sorry folks! Be sure to come around in a weeks time for the next match, where Arryk insists he will best Erryk," Davey declared, though the crowd could not determine which Davey said would best the other.
As the crowd dispersed, the three came together to count their profit. "Thirty Dragons total." Davey said.
Arryk said absently.
"We really do it for the ladies," Erryk finished, winking at a girl who walked past, making her blush.
Arryk gains +2 Swordsmanship (Now 77)
Erryk gains +3 Swordsmanship (Now 68)