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<blockquote data-quote="havenstone" data-source="post: 4438128" data-attributes="member: 61094"><p><strong>At the Fencing Court</strong></p><p></p><p><span style="font-size: 10px"><strong>ON THE FOLLOWING </strong>morning (the third day since the party’s arrival in Lynar), Nina strides confidently into the d’Aramant section of the Patriarchs’ Palace, wearing the best new clothes that Marcor’s gold could buy. It doesn’t take long for him to find a circle of similarly preening young men and women.</span></p><p> </p><p><span style="font-size: 10px"><a href="http://www.enworld.org/forum/4389283-post23.html" target="_blank">Agerain</a> senses the newcomer and turns from chatting up a d’Nerein girl to fix Nina with a hard stare. “Who are you? I haven’t seen you in this part of the palace before.”</span></p><p> </p><p><span style="font-size: 10px">“I’m your cousin Anseron,” Nina replies, trying to sound natural. “From Mercon’s side of the family. I’m here for the muster.”</span></p><p> </p><p><span style="font-size: 10px">Agerain looks him over, then snorts contemptuously. “You’re no d’Aramant, Anseron.” Nina stares back at him, trusting in his disguise. Agerain continues to size Nina up, until his lips bend in a fierce smile and he finishes his sentence. “Not until you’ve blooded a d’Loriad at the fencing court!”</span></p><p> </p><p><span style="font-size: 10px"><strong>NINA FINDS HIMSELF </strong>swept up in a crowd of whooping young d’Aramant cousins and marched down to the heart of the d’Nerein palace, where several dozen young men (and rather fewer women) are practicing their swordplay. Four huge trees mark the corners of the court. Many of the young fencers look up in alarm at the sound of Agerain’s gang approaching, and quickly disperse, leaving a core of d’Loriads and a few d’Orbis in the middle of the field. Nina sees Atrix and his guardians among them, then notices Ontaya and the d’Orbis cousins, and has the sinking feeling that his disguise is going to be ruined by his own friends.</span></p><p> </p><p><span style="font-size: 10px">Atrix’s cousin <a href="http://www.enworld.org/forum/4419701-post26.html" target="_blank">Alan</a> is the first to break from the d’Loriad pack and approach with an insolent grin. “Agerain, didn’t you lose badly enough last time we dueled?”</span></p><p> </p><p><span style="font-size: 10px">“It must be pleasant to be ever the winner in your own mind, Alan,” smiles Agerain indulgently. “We have a new cousin in town, named An...?”</span></p><p> </p><p><span style="font-size: 10px">“Anseron,” says Nina in resigned tones. Ontaya glances over with surprise at the almost-familiar voice. Atrix is looking half-quizzical, half-angry.</span></p><p> </p><p><span style="font-size: 10px">“And you’ve brought him down to take your punishment for you?”</span></p><p> </p><p><span style="font-size: 10px">“To see what he’s made of,” Agerain shrugs. He tosses Nina a rapier, then speaks quietly to Alan so Ontaya can’t hear. “To third blood?”</span></p><p> </p><p><span style="font-size: 10px">“Blood combat for your new cousin?” Alan says, drawing his own rapier and glancing around to confirm the absence of Castellan Reynalt. “You must not like him very much.”</span></p><p> </p><p><span style="font-size: 10px">Nina raises his sword. “Enough talk, d’Loriad. Let’s get this over with.” A ring of excited young nobles forms around Alan and “Anseron” as they circle each other. Nina holds in his mind what <a href="http://www.enworld.org/forum/4330843-post5.html" target="_blank">Kemeras</a> taught him: observe, guard yourself, turn your opponent’s momentum against him. Alan is the first to lunge in, and comes away with a wound to his shoulder. The handsome d’Loriad is a good hand with a blade, but he never manages to land a blow on Nina, who matter-of-factly stabs him twice more and steps back to roars of approval from Agerain and the d’Aramants.</span></p><p> </p><p><span style="font-size: 10px">“Right, <em>Anseron</em>,” says Atrix hotly, springing forward while Ontaya lays hands on Alan to close his wounds. “I don’t know what your game is, but you won’t get so lucky twice. On your guard!”</span></p><p> </p><p><span style="font-size: 10px">Nina and Atrix have sparred many times outside Kemeras’ cottage, and know each others’ strengths well -- but Nina always kept in reserve the most significant technique Kemeras taught him. He can remember the old ranger’s voice: <em>You have the patience and intellect to learn one of the higher strategems, my girl. Master this trick, and you can turn a swordsman’s strength against himself</em>. Nina can’t help but guiltily imagine Kemeras’ expression if he had heard that the first opponent Nina used the technique on was Atrix.</span></p><p> </p><p><span style="font-size: 10px">Nina’s blade becomes a blur around him. He doesn’t move toward Atrix or attempt to strike him at all. Atrix follows Nina’s rapier warily with his eyes, then strikes at him -- and despite Atrix’s extraordinarily high dexterity, Nina deflects the blow and sends Atrix’s sword flying back into his own shoulder, wounding him with his own blade. A gasp goes up from the watching crowd. Atrix attacks again with all his speed, and Nina ripostes, leaving him further bloodied. Stunned, Atrix tries to disarm Nina -- something he’s always been good at -- and finds himself struck a third time. Nina leaps back out of range and lowers his blade, trying to convey an apology to his enraged friend with his eyes. “Enough of this.”</span></p><p> </p><p><span style="font-size: 10px">“Yes, enough of this,” Agerain exults. “You’ve shamed enough d’Loriads for one day.”</span></p><p> </p><p><span style="font-size: 10px">“<strong>LET SOMEONE ELSE</strong> have a turn,” comes a flat voice. A muscular d’Aramant with dusty-blond hair pushes past Nina and stares bleakly at Atrix. “I’ve been waiting for you to come back, d’Loriad.”</span></p><p> </p><p><span style="font-size: 10px">“Bloody hellfire,” Atrix growls, shrugging off Ontaya’s offer of healing. “What do you want, Avric?” He’s all too familiar with the best and most belligerent young swordsman of the d’Aramants (before Nina inexplicably joined the Family). Shortly before Atrix’s departure for Rim Square, Avric had challenged him to a duel over a point of familial honor. The duel had ended with Atrix spectacularly disarming Avric, knocking his legs out from under him, and strolling away while Avric was trying to get his wind back.</span></p><p> </p><p><span style="font-size: 10px">“Do you people have to give <em>all</em> your sons names starting with A?” Nina mutters inaudibly.</span></p><p> </p><p><span style="font-size: 10px">“Just try to disarm me again, d’Loriad,” Avric barks. “Just you try.” The d’Aramants and d’Loriads begin pushing forward, yelling at each other, and it’s clear that at any minute the fencing court is going to degenerate into an all-out battle.</span></p><p> </p><p><span style="font-size: 10px">“The Castellan is coming,” Ontaya shouts, shouldering her way through the intensifying brawl. “If you want to stay out of Reynalt’s cells, <em>stand down</em>.” Agerain eyes Ontaya venomously, clearly considering a fight, but again decides the time isn’t right.</span></p><p> </p><p><span style="font-size: 10px">Meanwhile, Adgar and Gareth drag Atrix back to one of the trees. “Cos, you’ve got to keep yourself well away from Avric.”</span></p><p> </p><p><span style="font-size: 10px">“Oh, for Ain’s sake,” Atrix snarls, “just because Nin... this new d’Aramant cretin can stab me doesn’t mean I’m completely out of practice. I can still take Avric.”</span></p><p> </p><p><span style="font-size: 10px">“Do you know who the Swordsmarks are?” Adgar says urgently.</span></p><p> </p><p><span style="font-size: 10px">Atrix pauses, his anger receding in shock. “Yes.”</span></p><p> </p><p><span style="font-size: 10px">“While you’ve been away, Avric has been getting training from one of them here. He’s since killed one man and maimed five in supposedly ‘safe’ duels.” Adgar shakes his head. “We don’t want you to <em>really</em> die.”</span></p><p> </p><p><span style="font-size: 10px">Atrix looks back to the fracas, which has dissipated with the arrival of the bull-like, gray-haired Castellan Reynalt -- who is roaring that if he sees another naked blade, he’ll have the holder in shackles. Agerain and the other d’Aramants hoist “Anseron” onto their shoulders and parade him out of the fencing grounds, cheering wildly. Atrix swears under his breath and shakes himself free from Gareth’s grip, wincing as he feels the cut Nina just gave him across the ribs.</span></p><p> </p><p><span style="font-size: 10px">“Atrix?” A newly-arrived Darren taps him on the shoulder. “Can you spare a moment?”</span></p><p> </p><p><span style="font-size: 10px">Atrix looks over at the uncharacteristically nervous young tinker. “Are you all right?”</span></p><p> </p><p><span style="font-size: 10px">Darren considers for moment, then nods. “But I need to learn to dance.”</span></p><p> </p><p><span style="font-size: 10px">Atrix blinks. “To dance.”</span></p><p> </p><p><span style="font-size: 10px">“For the Ball,” Darren confirms.</span></p><p> </p><p><span style="font-size: 10px">“What, by tomorrow night?”</span></p><p> </p><p><span style="font-size: 10px">“Yes.”</span></p><p> </p><p><span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman'"><span style="font-family: 'Verdana'"><span style="font-size: 10px">Atrix wearily puts one hand to his forehead. “Right. We’ll see what we can do.”</span></span></span></p></blockquote><p></p>
[QUOTE="havenstone, post: 4438128, member: 61094"] [b]At the Fencing Court[/b] [SIZE=2][B]ON THE FOLLOWING [/B]morning (the third day since the party’s arrival in Lynar), Nina strides confidently into the d’Aramant section of the Patriarchs’ Palace, wearing the best new clothes that Marcor’s gold could buy. It doesn’t take long for him to find a circle of similarly preening young men and women.[/SIZE] [SIZE=2][URL="http://www.enworld.org/forum/4389283-post23.html"]Agerain[/URL] senses the newcomer and turns from chatting up a d’Nerein girl to fix Nina with a hard stare. “Who are you? I haven’t seen you in this part of the palace before.”[/SIZE] [SIZE=2]“I’m your cousin Anseron,” Nina replies, trying to sound natural. “From Mercon’s side of the family. I’m here for the muster.”[/SIZE] [SIZE=2]Agerain looks him over, then snorts contemptuously. “You’re no d’Aramant, Anseron.” Nina stares back at him, trusting in his disguise. Agerain continues to size Nina up, until his lips bend in a fierce smile and he finishes his sentence. “Not until you’ve blooded a d’Loriad at the fencing court!”[/SIZE] [SIZE=2][B]NINA FINDS HIMSELF [/B]swept up in a crowd of whooping young d’Aramant cousins and marched down to the heart of the d’Nerein palace, where several dozen young men (and rather fewer women) are practicing their swordplay. Four huge trees mark the corners of the court. Many of the young fencers look up in alarm at the sound of Agerain’s gang approaching, and quickly disperse, leaving a core of d’Loriads and a few d’Orbis in the middle of the field. Nina sees Atrix and his guardians among them, then notices Ontaya and the d’Orbis cousins, and has the sinking feeling that his disguise is going to be ruined by his own friends.[/SIZE] [SIZE=2]Atrix’s cousin [URL="http://www.enworld.org/forum/4419701-post26.html"]Alan[/URL] is the first to break from the d’Loriad pack and approach with an insolent grin. “Agerain, didn’t you lose badly enough last time we dueled?”[/SIZE] [SIZE=2]“It must be pleasant to be ever the winner in your own mind, Alan,” smiles Agerain indulgently. “We have a new cousin in town, named An...?”[/SIZE] [SIZE=2]“Anseron,” says Nina in resigned tones. Ontaya glances over with surprise at the almost-familiar voice. Atrix is looking half-quizzical, half-angry.[/SIZE] [SIZE=2]“And you’ve brought him down to take your punishment for you?”[/SIZE] [SIZE=2]“To see what he’s made of,” Agerain shrugs. He tosses Nina a rapier, then speaks quietly to Alan so Ontaya can’t hear. “To third blood?”[/SIZE] [SIZE=2]“Blood combat for your new cousin?” Alan says, drawing his own rapier and glancing around to confirm the absence of Castellan Reynalt. “You must not like him very much.”[/SIZE] [SIZE=2]Nina raises his sword. “Enough talk, d’Loriad. Let’s get this over with.” A ring of excited young nobles forms around Alan and “Anseron” as they circle each other. Nina holds in his mind what [URL="http://www.enworld.org/forum/4330843-post5.html"]Kemeras[/URL] taught him: observe, guard yourself, turn your opponent’s momentum against him. Alan is the first to lunge in, and comes away with a wound to his shoulder. The handsome d’Loriad is a good hand with a blade, but he never manages to land a blow on Nina, who matter-of-factly stabs him twice more and steps back to roars of approval from Agerain and the d’Aramants.[/SIZE] [SIZE=2]“Right, [I]Anseron[/I],” says Atrix hotly, springing forward while Ontaya lays hands on Alan to close his wounds. “I don’t know what your game is, but you won’t get so lucky twice. On your guard!”[/SIZE] [SIZE=2]Nina and Atrix have sparred many times outside Kemeras’ cottage, and know each others’ strengths well -- but Nina always kept in reserve the most significant technique Kemeras taught him. He can remember the old ranger’s voice: [I]You have the patience and intellect to learn one of the higher strategems, my girl. Master this trick, and you can turn a swordsman’s strength against himself[/I]. Nina can’t help but guiltily imagine Kemeras’ expression if he had heard that the first opponent Nina used the technique on was Atrix.[/SIZE] [SIZE=2]Nina’s blade becomes a blur around him. He doesn’t move toward Atrix or attempt to strike him at all. Atrix follows Nina’s rapier warily with his eyes, then strikes at him -- and despite Atrix’s extraordinarily high dexterity, Nina deflects the blow and sends Atrix’s sword flying back into his own shoulder, wounding him with his own blade. A gasp goes up from the watching crowd. Atrix attacks again with all his speed, and Nina ripostes, leaving him further bloodied. Stunned, Atrix tries to disarm Nina -- something he’s always been good at -- and finds himself struck a third time. Nina leaps back out of range and lowers his blade, trying to convey an apology to his enraged friend with his eyes. “Enough of this.”[/SIZE] [SIZE=2]“Yes, enough of this,” Agerain exults. “You’ve shamed enough d’Loriads for one day.”[/SIZE] [SIZE=2]“[B]LET SOMEONE ELSE[/B] have a turn,” comes a flat voice. A muscular d’Aramant with dusty-blond hair pushes past Nina and stares bleakly at Atrix. “I’ve been waiting for you to come back, d’Loriad.”[/SIZE] [SIZE=2]“Bloody hellfire,” Atrix growls, shrugging off Ontaya’s offer of healing. “What do you want, Avric?” He’s all too familiar with the best and most belligerent young swordsman of the d’Aramants (before Nina inexplicably joined the Family). Shortly before Atrix’s departure for Rim Square, Avric had challenged him to a duel over a point of familial honor. The duel had ended with Atrix spectacularly disarming Avric, knocking his legs out from under him, and strolling away while Avric was trying to get his wind back.[/SIZE] [SIZE=2]“Do you people have to give [I]all[/I] your sons names starting with A?” Nina mutters inaudibly.[/SIZE] [SIZE=2]“Just try to disarm me again, d’Loriad,” Avric barks. “Just you try.” The d’Aramants and d’Loriads begin pushing forward, yelling at each other, and it’s clear that at any minute the fencing court is going to degenerate into an all-out battle.[/SIZE] [SIZE=2]“The Castellan is coming,” Ontaya shouts, shouldering her way through the intensifying brawl. “If you want to stay out of Reynalt’s cells, [I]stand down[/I].” Agerain eyes Ontaya venomously, clearly considering a fight, but again decides the time isn’t right.[/SIZE] [SIZE=2]Meanwhile, Adgar and Gareth drag Atrix back to one of the trees. “Cos, you’ve got to keep yourself well away from Avric.”[/SIZE] [SIZE=2]“Oh, for Ain’s sake,” Atrix snarls, “just because Nin... this new d’Aramant cretin can stab me doesn’t mean I’m completely out of practice. I can still take Avric.”[/SIZE] [SIZE=2]“Do you know who the Swordsmarks are?” Adgar says urgently.[/SIZE] [SIZE=2]Atrix pauses, his anger receding in shock. “Yes.”[/SIZE] [SIZE=2]“While you’ve been away, Avric has been getting training from one of them here. He’s since killed one man and maimed five in supposedly ‘safe’ duels.” Adgar shakes his head. “We don’t want you to [I]really[/I] die.”[/SIZE] [SIZE=2]Atrix looks back to the fracas, which has dissipated with the arrival of the bull-like, gray-haired Castellan Reynalt -- who is roaring that if he sees another naked blade, he’ll have the holder in shackles. Agerain and the other d’Aramants hoist “Anseron” onto their shoulders and parade him out of the fencing grounds, cheering wildly. Atrix swears under his breath and shakes himself free from Gareth’s grip, wincing as he feels the cut Nina just gave him across the ribs.[/SIZE] [SIZE=2]“Atrix?” A newly-arrived Darren taps him on the shoulder. “Can you spare a moment?”[/SIZE] [SIZE=2]Atrix looks over at the uncharacteristically nervous young tinker. “Are you all right?”[/SIZE] [SIZE=2]Darren considers for moment, then nods. “But I need to learn to dance.”[/SIZE] [SIZE=2]Atrix blinks. “To dance.”[/SIZE] [SIZE=2]“For the Ball,” Darren confirms.[/SIZE] [SIZE=2]“What, by tomorrow night?”[/SIZE] [SIZE=2]“Yes.”[/SIZE] [FONT=Times New Roman][FONT=Verdana][SIZE=2]Atrix wearily puts one hand to his forehead. “Right. We’ll see what we can do.”[/SIZE][/FONT][/FONT] [/QUOTE]
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