Sharpening Thorns
| Sharpening Thorns | |
|---|---|
| Players
Casimir, Charon as ST |
Casimir gets a visit from a senior Knight of the Thorned Wreath. |
No Establishment Kindred would dare enter another's haven uninvited, so Sir Terron of Birmingham made sure to send a handwritten RSVP several nights in advance to Casimir's new address. The letter stated in so many words that the Order is sending him to make sure he is comfortable and adjusting to his new surroundings. So the Serpent Knight arrives at the appointed hour at Casimir's doorstep, a tall, ebony-skinned man with a clean-shaven head and wiry, smooth physique. He wears a perfectly-tailored American-style black business suit with a red tie and gold Invictus lapel pen. He waits politely, casting a glance and a polite smile around him as he does. Casimir normally would have his servant answer but as she must be out doing something else, he moves to the door. Today he wears a loose fitting white button up shirt done in a romantic fashion and a pair of older style black trousers. Obviously things that are close to as old as he is, ah but the allure of the past is always there with this kindred. Opening the door Casimir notes the lapel and gives a semi-formal half bow indicating the man should enter. "Please do come in, it is with great enthusiasm that I welcome you to my home Sir Terron." He would introduce himself formally but the two are at least aquainted by mail, so he leaves off all the genealogy and other titles for now. "I would ask if you care for something to dirnk but I am afraid the Lacrima is all gone and I only have some cold red stuff in the fridge. Though as a guest you are welcome to that should you need it." Always focused on the formalities he then indicates that Terron is welcome to sit, hands broadly gesturing to the couches and chairs in the room. "Please, do have a seat and make yourself at home." "Refreshment would be welcome, thank you Sir von Zierotin," Sir Terron replies, his voice deep, his accent a crisp and refined Mid-Atlantic. When provided, he will raise the glass of blood to his host and drink it down. His feet remain flat on the floor, and he sits up straight as if he were being pulled taut by an invisible rope connected to the top of his skull. "Brother Knight," he says, getting down to business. "News of your daring rescue has reached the ears of the Order. I bring the commendation of Knight-Commander Goliard of the Great Lakes Commandery, but I have also come to do his will." The Knight slowly raises his suitcase to place it on the closest available surface, enters the lock combination and unlatches it, revealing a pair of disassembled practice saber foils and what appears to be a pair of skin-tight bodysuits with targets painted on them. "I have been sent to evaluate your combat ability," he says. "The Order has disbursed its latest practice suits for this purpose. This way we may simulate combat without taking wounds and spilling precious blood."
"Ah quite interesting. I have my standard fencing garb in the basement but this seems better." He moves over to where the suits are and inspects one. "Ah they even managed to get the size right. Well then, I take it you are to be my judge and sparing partner?" The knight pauses a beat to let Sir Terron answer and then adds. "Though one would think that my latest bit of combat might be a good indication of my combat ability. I admit, I did need help and 3 against one did come awfully close to putting an end to me. " "The circumstances were not ideal, to be sure," Sir Terron replies, lifting the tightly-wrapped fencing bodyglove and unwrapping it to shake out the wrinkles, offering one to Casimir and then picking one up himself. "Too many variables, especially in such a sinister and premeditated attack. Do understand, your ability to acquit yourself in battle is not in question. Yet we must keep our thorns sharp, and I am charged with aiding our brother and sister Knights in this task. So, shall we prepare a practice ring?" Casimir indicates what probably used to be a dining room. For now it is set up with the proper fencing Salle. There is the Piste or strip and then some practice maniquins as well as a set of various practice swords along the wall. "I have been practicing here, I agree that we should always keep our thorns sharp and that is why I hone my art nightly. I do hope to impress you , if nothing else." Then he moves to don the suit, preferably over his current attire but if that doesn't work he will head off to his room and change, coming back once everything is in order. "Proper fencing duel or shall we fight, as if our un-lives depended on it?" The knight smirks then and picks up one of the practice sabers, twirling it about and getting a feel for the weapon. The weapon is balanced well for its size, a blunted fencing foil. "It features inbuilt sensors that can simulate the depth of a thrust or cut," he says, "As well as the locations of internal organs, major veins and arteries. That sort of thing. In other words, it simulates damage without doing damage at all. Wear this wristlet as well," he continues, offering what looks like a FitBit to Casimir. "This will give you the simulated readouts. Therefore we can flex our muscles and fight with our full strength without fear of losing any extremities." He steps onto the strip and bows low to his opponent, then stands, holding his foil out in front of him, ready to begin. Casimir holds his sword upright in front of his face in a salute and then assumes his stance. "This will be interesting then, don't hold back on my account old chap." He is grinning as he says that, the thrill of the fight always something that seems to get his blood flowing, more or less. "En Garde" He waits for Sir Treton to signal back and only then does he proceed his advance. This will be much more like mutual combat than real fencing but at least they can have some modicum of rules and mutual respect. "First, defense," Terron says. "Defend yourself and dodge!" He comes in hot with the blunted foil, the metal swishing menacingly despite its harmless construction. Casimir had expected this to be a fight but will take it as instruction in this case. He dodges as told , moving quite deftly with preternatural speed but then that little boost of speed is just part of who he is. He does a little circle away as he dodges, moving his sword out and preparing to strike but instead he waits to see what the next test is. "Excellent," Terron says, now circling Casimir. His glossy undead eyes shine with excitement. "This will be fun. Now the fight begins! Defend yourself in earnest, Sir!" He lunges in for the duel now, bringing his full skill to bear. Casimir assumes they aren't going by standard rules here, a touch is not an immediate loss since these suits track damage. He tries to parry the attack but fails and takes a strong hit to his left arm. Terron's wristlet beeps and shows a readout as Casimir's blow taps him on the outer thigh. "Strong," he comments. "But we're not done yet. Come at me!" Casimir knows his opponent is strong and so he doesn't hold back any attacks. He notes the advaned defense technique used but thrusts his saber forward, sliding between the opposing blades guard and poking firmly into Sir Terron's right shoulder. "Touche". Not that he is in any way winning this battle but it's good to get a few hits in. The wristlet on Terron's wrist beeps three times in rapid succession. "Ha!" he replies. "Good!" He resumes his defensive posture and becomes ready to pounce once more. Terron attempts to turn Casimir's sudden, powerful blow against itself. The move is recognizable as am attempt to push through, though it is not quite enough. Had he dodged fast enough he might have been able to turn it around and strike a blow of his own. Instead, three more beeps sound from Terron's wristlet. "You are quite capable at thrusting through defense," he says. "Let's test your own!" He switches stance, extending the point of his foil out as far as he can in front of him, then leaps into the fray. Casimir gives a mirthful little chuckle, though he is not about to gloat. "Oh I am sure you still have a few tricks up your sleeve and defense, is probably not my strong point." He does a little twirl of the blade before resuming his defensive position now. This time he will try to feign an opening and then counter attack when he dodges. Terron thrusts high and wide, but it turns out to be only a feint! Casimir thought he had it all figured out. He prepares for the counter attack and throws all of his effort into dodging it. Backing up, parrying and otherwise trying to stop his assailant but the thrust of the weapon is too powerful and hits him square in the chest. The wristlet goes off , beeping multiple times as if someone just won the jackpot at a casino. "Well played Sir Terron." He gives his fellow knight a salute with this sword and then assumes a defensive stance again. "In time, you may master the secrets of feint and thrust yourself," Terron replies, withdrawing his foil and returning to distance. His stance changes once more. "We fight now until the wristlet says one of us falls. En garde!" Casimir gives it his all but is parried and then riposted against more than once. Eventually the two come to final blows and Terron scores the last hit. Fortunatly being undead means you can't be winded and these suits prevent any real damage from happening. The knight smiles in delight even when the wristlet goes off, the lights turning red to signal he has lost the duel. "This has been most entertaining and informative. I see that I am not yet at the pinnacle of knighthood. There is much for me to work on and still, I am quite pleased by how things have been going." Sir Terron bows deeply to Casimir, then stands, salutes, and only then does he begin to disassemble his weapon. "I do believe the Knight-Commander will be pleased to learn that your recent victory in the field was not a fluke," he says, just as pleasant and refined as before. He sheds the bodyglove in order to return it to its packaging. "Your fundamentals are solid, Sir von Zierotin. Continue to refine your art and you will make quite the fearsome name for yourself. You have finesse and power in equal measure, the foundation of any warrior of quality. Walk your path proudly Sir Knight, with the blessing of the Order. I would love to stay, but I am afraid I have a plane to catch." Casimir smiles, pleased though guarded as always. "And you are at the top most form Sir Knight. I do appreciate your time and the effort made. It was no easy match!" He removes the bodyglove and wristlet, giving them back before he moves to take a seat. "Any more refreshments before you go? And you are most welcome to stay but I understand the need to catch that plane. I am very fastidious about missing appointments." He will then help out however he can and bid Sir Terron a good evening, watching him leave before turning back and closing the door to his home. | |