Gabriel Laurent:
Gabriel fell: his leg brought out from under him, pain lancing up through his thigh and down through his calf. His eyes wide, beneath the crest of his helm, as the off-balanced warrior fell back toward the dirt. He hit, with a crash. His brigandine made little sound - but that great helm of his clattered as it struck the training yard. Gabriel felt it's edge bite into his brow, felt it draw blood.... And as he pulled himself up to a seated position, saw the red run across his vision as it dripped into an eye.
An eye he closed rapidly, looking a rather ghoulish sight with one bloodied eyelid. The other, his unmarred and unbloodied eye, looked on calmly. Blue as the sea as it took in the scene: looking over his battered knee before raising it to regard Ser Ernesto. "You fight like a beast, ser." The young warrior regarded laconically, a simple statement of fact... But perhaps, more a compliment than an insult.
Gabriel grabbed hold of his sword with his left hand, propping it up with its tip to the ground - using the blade as a makeshift cane as he pulled himself upward. Gabriel struggled, refusing to lay still on the ground and bleed. His left leg responded painfully, but he felt that if any weight were put on it it might collapse. His vision swam as he stood, no doubt brought about by the impact his head had took when he fell.
"A good match." He suggested passively, before beginning to hobble away, torn brown cloak trailing behind him.
As Strohan passed by the sound of blades clashing gave him reason to pause. Approaching the action he couldn't help but notice one of the men sparing in a courtyard. The familiar look of the armour, the next thing he saw had the
stranger on the ground.
Ser Ernesto Riquez:
He looked at gabriel as he commented on his own fighting style. "I stated that i was not holding back. Perhaps you should have been the same way" The knight said as he stood to brush himself off. He had no viable injures but a hidden bruise was a reminder to his pride. He was getting old and soon he would be useless. He was not a man to train others but one to beat them down and he knew it. Age would eventually rob him of this.
"Seek out the maester and that leg should be healed shortly" he said as a single compassionate thing. He turned to the crowd of people that were watching hem. He didn't seem to notice them before the rigors of battle making him instinctively ignore all around. "i hope you all learned a valuable lesson from this". He shouted to the crowd
Strohan pushed through the group of people watching. Making his way toward the downed man he stopped in his tracks as the words rolled from the victor.
Turning he rested the but of his axe down into the dirt. Shield on his back and axe in hand we weighed his thoughts for a moment. He wasn't the type to look for a fight but the idea of spectators learning a "valuable lesson" implied that he had something to teach them. It had been awhile for Strohan, perhaps he needed a one on one lesson.
"Your quite the instructor there. Perhaps you could teach me a thing or two. I'm always looking to improve my own skills..." Strohan paused. He wasn't looking for trouble but there was a part of him that wanted to defend the downed man. After all he was pretty sure he knew them.
"Perhaps if this one didn't take much out of you, you have something left for another round?"
Already Strohan was second guessing himself. He didn't need problems from any locals and he wasn't even sure if this man held some sort of clout within his new friends he would be heading North with. All of that was to late now, so he slid his shield around to the front of his left arm while a few others helped his old friend up.
Tilting his head a bit he looked down at Gabriel,
"You'll be fine get up"
This message was last edited by the player at 19:28, Mon 11 Aug 2014.