Ulfgar and Hurrell conflict
Things had been tense between the two, Hurrell and Ulfgar avoiding eye contact or speaking to each other when the situation allowed. True, in the heat of the battle the two would fight as needed, defending each other and the group as if there were nothing going on personally between them. This continued on through their journey to the mines, and on their first journey back to town Hurrell was a few paces behind Ulfgar, his eyes were on Ulfgar’s back though looking distant not focusing on him. He nodded a little to himself as he walked, seemingly carrying on a debate within himself, and apparently having reached a conclusion of some sort.
When they arrived back in town the small group went about their own ways, each going to continue their training in their particular fields. Hurrell hung back, waiting for the rest of their companions before approaching him, a hand clasping his shoulder to get his attention. “Ulfgar, if we are going to continue to function well as a group I think the two of us need to try and resolve our differences. We both have things that we’re upset at each other about so I have a proposal. I suggest we go over to the fort and if the captain will allow, we borrow a few of his practice weapons and the practice grounds and take out our frustrations on each other in healthy combat.”
The two men faced each other, neither one speaking more for a moment as Ulfgar considered it. “Yes, it is time we come to grips, for the fact that we have to work together, if nothing else. Let’s go see this captain and see if he’ll allow it.”
Hurrell and Ulfgar made the short journey up the road from the city to the fort in silence, stopping as they reached the guards at the gate. “We’d like to see the captain, if he’ll allow us a few minutes of his time.” Hurrell said. The two guards at the gate looked at each other, then one went off to find the captain, returning a few minutes later.
“The captain will see you, though he says to be quick, he can only spare you ten minutes.” The elf and the dwarf nodded in turn, following the guard as he led the way to the captain’s office, stopping in the open door and gesturing them inside. The two companions walked into the room, stopping in front of the captain before the dwarf spoke. “Sir, the two of us would like to use some of your practice facilities for combat training if you’ll allow. We’d need the room to spar as well as a few practice weapons.”
The captain looked between the two, sizing them up before responding. “Not enough action for you in the mines that you need to fight each other, hmm? I like that, two fighters not allowing themselves to be complacent in their work but keeping themselves sharp. You may use our practice facilities and weapons.” He scribbled a quick note, adding his signature to the bottom which he then handed to the dwarf. “Give this to the sergeant of the guard, he’ll see to it that you’re allowed to use whatever you’d like.”
The two gave a quick salute, fists thumping against their chests before starting to head out the door. “Thank you, sir.” A short time later, and after a brief explanation to the sergeant and the two were equipped with wooden weapons, the two swords for the ranger and the axe for the dwarven fighter. They took up position in the open courtyard, a few others doing various combat drills mostly ignoring them for now. Dwarf and elf gave a cursory salute and then the fight began. In short order the two caught the attention of the others training, the metallic ring of metal on metal stopping as they stopped their training to watch the two fight, for this was obviously no mere spar.
In a short time the two had worked up a heavy sweat, their powerful blows landing on helmeted heads or armored bodies when they struck true, though even then the force of the blows brought grunts of pain and a slew of curses. The elf’s smaller, speedier form forced the dwarf to be more patient with his blows, having grown frustrated when the elf would nimbly duck beneath a swing or dodge out of the way. The elf in turn grew frustrated at the dwarf’s constitution, a heavy blow causing a small grunt and having little visible affect.
The battle waged on for a half hour, both combatants bloody and bruised from a variety of blows the other had landed. Their ‘spar’ was finally ended when two of the sergeant’s men grabbed each combatant, pulling them away from each other. “I don’t know what reason you two have for trying to kill each other on my practice field but that’s enough. If you haven’t worked out your problems here, I suggest you go down and get each other drunk. You’ll heave a headache anyway, may as well make it a good one.”
Hurrell and Ulfgar were then stripped of their practice gear, both too tired to make an argument of things. They both fairly staggered out of the courtyard and through the fort’s entrance as they walked back towards the city proper. Chuckling a little, Hurrell turned to Ulfgar. “What do you think, bath first, get our gear cleaned up a bit, then go get drunk?"
The dwarf shook his head in response. “’Ell no, I need a drink after chasing you around the courtyard. Drinks first, we’ll clean up later. I’ve got a tankard or three with my name on it.”
The two made their way into the Dancing Orc, a drunken yell coming from on table, indicating the half-orc mercenary was already deeply involved in his own drink. “Hurl, Ulf! Come, we drink!” Elf and dwarf rolled their eyes at one another before collapsing wearily into chairs at the half-orc's table, the barmaid setting a mug of ale on the table for each of them.
Morning would come to find the half-orc, elf, and dwarf passed out atop the table, the innkeeper rousing them each after the others had gone out to continue their day’s training. “’At’s it, no more stinking up my common room! I want you out of here and into the baths, I’ll have your clothing burned, and new bought. Between ale, blood, and rips you need new. Now off with ye!”
A chorus of groans followed as the two orcs went up to their rooms, the elf and dwarf staggering off towards the baths, a whiff and a glance at each other proof that the innkeeper was right about the state of their clothing, as well as their need of a bath. “That’s it, Ulfgar, you hit too hard for me to get you pissed off again. No hard feelings, okay?”
