(no subject)
Who: a_slayer_slays and chaincutter
What: A friendly spar
When: July 9th, midday
Where: The Barracks
Summary: A couple months and a few minor bouts of Luceti-wide doom later than expected, Sigmund is finally giving Buffy that shield demonstration he promised.
Rating: PG/PG-13 depending on how serious they get about things
It was already raining when Sigmund arrived at the barracks, likely much earlier than any student or opponent could be expected. He didn't mind, neither about the rain nor the wait. He wasn't concerned about it damaging his armor, even though he wore the heavy harness. With no idea what Buffy was actually capable of, and his own continuing pain issues -- lack of pain issues? -- it was better to err on the side of caution. He settled under the overhang of the roof near the door, perfectly still, with his habitual blank face and distant expression. Behind him, leaning against the wall, was a rough cloth sack with the corner of a wooden shield peeking out of it. A promise was a promise, after all, even if it did come a bit late. He didn't lean against the wall -- such a thing was undignified; nor did he shift on his feet. Apart from the rain, and the barely audible clink of his armor with each breath, this corner of the village was remarkably quiet. Silent, still, tranquil... calming. And yet... energizing. His blank mask was broken by the barest hint of a smile. A part of him did always think that he fought better in the rain.
With a deep breath, he let his eyes close. Time to listen, and wait. If this woman was half as strong as she seemed to imply that she was, it would be interesting, to say the least.
What: A friendly spar
When: July 9th, midday
Where: The Barracks
Summary: A couple months and a few minor bouts of Luceti-wide doom later than expected, Sigmund is finally giving Buffy that shield demonstration he promised.
Rating: PG/PG-13 depending on how serious they get about things
It was already raining when Sigmund arrived at the barracks, likely much earlier than any student or opponent could be expected. He didn't mind, neither about the rain nor the wait. He wasn't concerned about it damaging his armor, even though he wore the heavy harness. With no idea what Buffy was actually capable of, and his own continuing pain issues -- lack of pain issues? -- it was better to err on the side of caution. He settled under the overhang of the roof near the door, perfectly still, with his habitual blank face and distant expression. Behind him, leaning against the wall, was a rough cloth sack with the corner of a wooden shield peeking out of it. A promise was a promise, after all, even if it did come a bit late. He didn't lean against the wall -- such a thing was undignified; nor did he shift on his feet. Apart from the rain, and the barely audible clink of his armor with each breath, this corner of the village was remarkably quiet. Silent, still, tranquil... calming. And yet... energizing. His blank mask was broken by the barest hint of a smile. A part of him did always think that he fought better in the rain.
With a deep breath, he let his eyes close. Time to listen, and wait. If this woman was half as strong as she seemed to imply that she was, it would be interesting, to say the least.