Post by The Seven on Jun 16, 2008 18:23:54 GMT -5
Camron cursed and adjusted his grip on the lance as the old man's voice rang out again. "That's not how you hold a lance, boy! You hold your cock like that when you're taking a piss? No wonder you smell so fucking bad!" Camron sighed, fiddling with his reins and wondering for what must have been the hundredth time why he'd taken up with this bastard.
He thought back to their meeting, when Clegane had woken Camron in the dead of the night in the Red Keep. "Listen to me, boy," he had growled in a hushed tone. "You bested me in the yard today, and that got me thinking. The fucking King's Men have become nothing but glorified fucking goldcloaks. You and I, boy, we're going to change that. We're going to bring back the honour with which our names had once been spoken, in the days of the founding of our order." he had poked Camron in the chest then, hard. "You're going to show yourself off in that bloody Stormland tourney. The joust, melee, archery, everything. You'll enter them all, and show that the King's Men can rival the fucking Kingsguard any day of the week." Camron was taken aback: he knew why Clegane spoke so bitterly: it had been a life-long dream of his for his son to be in the Kingsguard, but he had died in a tragic training accident.
Camron had agreed, if only to settle the old man down, telling himself that the man's cold stare hadn't affected him at all.
Camron winced as the old man rained abuse at him from atop his horse, startling him from his reverie. "Wake up, fuckhead! You gonna win this thing with your head in the fucking clouds?" Camron reddened in anger, but held his tongue. Unfortunately, the bastard had proved to be as good a lance as he claimed, and he had an even better sword arm, despite his age.
Camron couched his lance, and shifted his old,chipped shield. "GO!" roared Clegane, heeling his mount to a trot, then a gallop. Camron dug his own spurs in, facing the old fucker across the field. He lowered his lance, waiting for Clegane to do the same. He didn't. Their horses drew nearer, and still the old man didn't react. Just as contact seemed inevitable, he swung his lance down with pinpoint accuracy. Camron's own lance hit the old mans shield square in the centre, but Clegane swayed back in the saddle, absorbing the blow. Camron's shield was ripped from his arm as Clegane's lance hit it just to the left of the centre, sending him spinning from his mount. He hit the earth with a thud.
"Hm, better,"grunted Clegane as he dismounted. "But still shit. Now up. We ain't done yet. I said up, its not over till I say so!" he spat, and Camron complied reluctantly. The Valeman drew his blade. just in time to parry a savage slash from the old man. Camron was more his match with blade than lance, however, and he battered his way forward. "You forgot your shield, boy," snarled Clegane, eyes narrowed in concentration. It was true: The chipped circle of oak lay a few feet away, beyond Clegane. "Never lose concentration!" The old man barked, smashing his hilt into Camron's chest while he was distracted.
Roaring curses, Royce swung his blunted blade in a mad flurry, raining blows on the old man. Most were deflected off either his shield or blade, but a few struck home with soft thumps. Clegane side stepped with surprising speed, and Camron's momentum carried him forward. He dropped and rolled, coming up with the shield in had and the hand and a half blade held in one fist. "Much better, but dent that thing and I'll have your hide. It was my sons." Camron paused at that. Clegane never spoke of his past, but before the Valeman could comment, the old bastard rushed forward once more.
Royce met him blow for blow this time. The old man was good, very good, but Camron's skill had increased twofold since they met, due to their constant sparring. The blades locked, and Clegane sent his forehead crashing into the Valeman's face. "Bastard!" snarled Royce, and he renewed his savage assault. His first stroke met thin air as Clegane swayed aside, but Camron was not to be denied. His second sent the old man's blade spinning from his grasp, forcing him to his knees. "You never said it was over," grinned the young man, and almost casually, Royce stepped forward and bashed the shield across the old mans forehead, sending him slumping to the earth. "Hm," he grunted, hefting the shield for examination. "Hope you didn't dent it." "Bastard," gargled the old man weakly in reply, and grinning, Camron helped him to his feet.
Camron receives +3 in joust and sword.
He thought back to their meeting, when Clegane had woken Camron in the dead of the night in the Red Keep. "Listen to me, boy," he had growled in a hushed tone. "You bested me in the yard today, and that got me thinking. The fucking King's Men have become nothing but glorified fucking goldcloaks. You and I, boy, we're going to change that. We're going to bring back the honour with which our names had once been spoken, in the days of the founding of our order." he had poked Camron in the chest then, hard. "You're going to show yourself off in that bloody Stormland tourney. The joust, melee, archery, everything. You'll enter them all, and show that the King's Men can rival the fucking Kingsguard any day of the week." Camron was taken aback: he knew why Clegane spoke so bitterly: it had been a life-long dream of his for his son to be in the Kingsguard, but he had died in a tragic training accident.
Camron had agreed, if only to settle the old man down, telling himself that the man's cold stare hadn't affected him at all.
Camron winced as the old man rained abuse at him from atop his horse, startling him from his reverie. "Wake up, fuckhead! You gonna win this thing with your head in the fucking clouds?" Camron reddened in anger, but held his tongue. Unfortunately, the bastard had proved to be as good a lance as he claimed, and he had an even better sword arm, despite his age.
Camron couched his lance, and shifted his old,chipped shield. "GO!" roared Clegane, heeling his mount to a trot, then a gallop. Camron dug his own spurs in, facing the old fucker across the field. He lowered his lance, waiting for Clegane to do the same. He didn't. Their horses drew nearer, and still the old man didn't react. Just as contact seemed inevitable, he swung his lance down with pinpoint accuracy. Camron's own lance hit the old mans shield square in the centre, but Clegane swayed back in the saddle, absorbing the blow. Camron's shield was ripped from his arm as Clegane's lance hit it just to the left of the centre, sending him spinning from his mount. He hit the earth with a thud.
"Hm, better,"grunted Clegane as he dismounted. "But still shit. Now up. We ain't done yet. I said up, its not over till I say so!" he spat, and Camron complied reluctantly. The Valeman drew his blade. just in time to parry a savage slash from the old man. Camron was more his match with blade than lance, however, and he battered his way forward. "You forgot your shield, boy," snarled Clegane, eyes narrowed in concentration. It was true: The chipped circle of oak lay a few feet away, beyond Clegane. "Never lose concentration!" The old man barked, smashing his hilt into Camron's chest while he was distracted.
Roaring curses, Royce swung his blunted blade in a mad flurry, raining blows on the old man. Most were deflected off either his shield or blade, but a few struck home with soft thumps. Clegane side stepped with surprising speed, and Camron's momentum carried him forward. He dropped and rolled, coming up with the shield in had and the hand and a half blade held in one fist. "Much better, but dent that thing and I'll have your hide. It was my sons." Camron paused at that. Clegane never spoke of his past, but before the Valeman could comment, the old bastard rushed forward once more.
Royce met him blow for blow this time. The old man was good, very good, but Camron's skill had increased twofold since they met, due to their constant sparring. The blades locked, and Clegane sent his forehead crashing into the Valeman's face. "Bastard!" snarled Royce, and he renewed his savage assault. His first stroke met thin air as Clegane swayed aside, but Camron was not to be denied. His second sent the old man's blade spinning from his grasp, forcing him to his knees. "You never said it was over," grinned the young man, and almost casually, Royce stepped forward and bashed the shield across the old mans forehead, sending him slumping to the earth. "Hm," he grunted, hefting the shield for examination. "Hope you didn't dent it." "Bastard," gargled the old man weakly in reply, and grinning, Camron helped him to his feet.
Camron receives +3 in joust and sword.