swords, at dawn

[sirbeaumains]

Gareth is trying to look nonchalant. This effort is very much undermined by the fact that he is standing in a secluded little place at dawn in full armor with an unsheathed sword (neither of these aided in his attempt to sneak stealthily from the house).

His face is quite white, but he looks very determined and very little like his usual self.

Comments

[sir_agravaiting]

Despite the early hour, the day is already warm, and the heavy armor Agravain wears as he clanks out to the appointed field doesn't help. He holds his helmet under his metal-clad arm as he waits for Gareth, having arrived just a bit before his brother, and is leaning on his sword.

"It's too hot a day for this," he complains, but only under his breath as he notices Gareth approaching, glinting brightly in the sun. That's some well-polished armor, there.

"Brother," he says formally and a bit louder, and sets down his sword for a moment to put his helmet on (with a great deal of clanking and effort).

[sirbeaumains]

"Brother," he replies, and does the same, setting down the sword to put on his own helmet, with equal difficulty. He picks up his sword again at once, though, and strides towards the center of the clearing.

[sir_agravaiting]

Agravain hoists his sword, adjusts his grip a bit, and steps back, watching Gareth the while, then lifts the blade in a lazy salute.

[sirbeaumains]

And again, Gareth does the same, sharply.

[sir_agravaiting]

"Have at," he says, his voice light with amusement, and commences the duel.

[sirbeaumains]

Gareth, very determined (though you can't see it, for his helmet obscures his face) steps forth at once, thrusting thw sword sharply at Agravaine.

[sir_agravaiting]

[And let's not get into sexual metaphors now. XD]

Agravain counters easily, swinging almost lazily. It's too hot to care much, even though Gareth's better skill will, doubtless, soon show him up.

[sirbeaumains]

Typist: Oh, don't think I spent about a million years trying to make that NOT sound like...yeah. But failed. It's swords, darn it! XD

And so Gareth again advances, striking small and sharp for the little chinks and slits, trying only to draw blood enough to scare Agravaine (he hopes) into giving in.

[sir_agravaiting]

Typist: No, no, fair enough. They're thrusting swords. Whatcha gonna do?

Agravain is a good enough swordsman to counter Gareth's swings, for the time - while they're small, tentative, at least. He isn't trying to do any particular damage, either, just to get a feel for just how good his brother actually is at this duelling thing.

[sirbeaumains]

It takes a moment or so more of little jabbing for Gareth to decide that this is getting nowhere. He retreats several steps, then charges forward, swinging in a wide arc to try and bring the blade down on the arm or shoulder.

[sir_agravaiting]

Some time passes, filled with much of the same - testing swings and easy counter strikes, trading blow for blow with brotherly caution, before they begin to truly fight. Agravain has good stamina, but his flaw with a sword lies in his wild, erratic swings, his taste for heavy blows all the time, rarely the jabs and cuts that make the truly skilled swordsman.

[knightly_affair]

Lancelot is passing, presumably on his way to -- somewhere (or someone, possibly), and can't help but pause at this. He stops, close enough to be heard and raises an eyebrow. "What's this?"

[sirbeaumains]

Gareth, being the smaller, finds his strength flagging more quickly. He is a quick and clever swordsman, though, and tries hard not to let Agravaine know that he is tiring. But when he heards a voice he (perhaps foolishly) pauses, glances over his shoulder to try and see its source.

[knightly_affair]

He blinks at Gareth for a moment, then continues, drily. "Well, since it's you two, I expect I don't want to know. But really, Gareth, why the swords?" He's --definitely keeping his distance from Agravaine.

[sirbeaumains]

Gareth is, safe to say, rather taken aback. "Um..!" seems to be about all he can manage, between having been found fighting his own brother and having been found by Lancelot at fighting his own brother.

[sir_agravaiting]

With another grunt of exasperation, Agravain rests his sword on the grass, lifting his visor to squint sweatily at Lancelot. "Stay out of this, Lancelot."