In the Mead-Hall of Hrothgar

[taitzu52]

Briet's eyes never leave Acwulf's was he reaches to his side, and slides his Gladius from it's sheath. He extends his arm, pointing the tip strait in the direction of Acwulfs nose, his blue eyes flashing from behind the blade. He lets a smile, ever so slight, escape his lips, as he steps a few paces back, arm still extended. He drops the Gladius from it's outstretched challange with a swish to one side. Still staring him down, he simply mutters, "Shields?"

 

[Maerdwyn]

Cheers erupt in the hall, and even the king looks on in interest. Acwulf spits, and pulls his longsword and hefts his shield from the table next to him. Those in the hall seem to part wherever either of the two men roam, giving the combatants all the room they need.

Armed with a smaller blade, Briet knows he will need to close with Acwulf before he can strike, and Acwulf clearly knows this as well, and appears to be trying to keep Briet at a distance.

ooc: look over in the ooc thread - quick questions about how you would like combats to be handled, etc.

 

[Bobitron]

Areld smiles at clever Ealdstan's manuvering, keeping his mouth quiet and letting things go as fate intends. Briet was unknown to Areld personally, but he had heard of the man's sharp mind and quick tongue. If all went as expected, Briet would beat the cowardly Acwulf, and the warband would be stronger for it.

 

[Maerdwyn]

The man near Olaf - Balthagais, another man who stood with Beowulf - mutters to the skald, "I wish the boy had brought a proper weapon...He might have stood a chance."

 

[taitzu52]

Briet's eyes break from Acwulf only to see where his spittle lands. With a nod to the side, a round shield is produced, and he straps it onto his left arm. Acwulf may be a coward, but he's taller, and has a longer reach with his sword. With any luck, he'll act much like any other big fighter and come at him with an overhand swing, counting with their size and velocity to hit home. The trick is to step inside the blow and hit that exposed armpit, Briet's favorite touch. Or make it go wide, and slip in under the jaw. His tools were many.

Briet stands still for a moment. He blows the loose hair out if his face, an taunts, "Last to stand for his clan, eh? Looks like only one of us will have that distinction. I'll see that his pyre is tended well." This is when Briet uses his eyes. He learned as a boy that a mans eyes are the key to battle. Follow them, and your blade will follow true. But Briet was cunning, he used his eyes to trick his opponents. Flashing his eyes constantly up, making himself look fearful of a powerful strike, this would get him where he wanted to be. And his dance began.

He circled a bit, keeping his shield to his side. Make him think you'll block, and slip in. Briet pushes Acwulf's sword out of the way with a beat, and swings on his arm. A tap really, take the bait, you cur, he thinks. He sees it, with a stomp and a shuffle, the shorter of the men is inside his guard. He poises to strike.

OOC-Lemme know if this is the kind of stuff you want, or if you want more direct ideas about each attempted blow.

 

[Maerdwyn]

Acwulf smiles cruelly and yells as he brings a crushing blow down on Briet - only to find that the smaller man is not there to receive it. Instead, he finds himself leaping backwards out of the way of a Gladius meant to slip neatly between his ribs. Over the next few seconds, despite Briet's attempts at deception, it becomes clear that he is the aggressor in the battle. For each two steps foreward Briet takes, Acwulf retreats one, until he finds himself nearing a wall with Briet almost on top of him.

The cheers in the hall grow to a roar, with most shouting for the pure joy of a battle, not for either combatant in particular - one, afer all, is a known coward, and the other is unknown altogether - but they both look to have spirit this day.

Soon, though, it is all Acwulf can do to put his shield up in reponse to Briet's thrusts - the men are too close together him to use his own sword to parry or strike. He desperately tries to smash Briet with his head, hoping to catch the younger man off guard, but ends up knocking himself on Briet's iron shield instead. In an attempt to scramble away from the wall, Acwulf leaves himself open, and Briet punishes him harshly for the mistake by plunging the gladius directly down into Acwulf's back.

To his credit, Acwulf stays conscious, but as he rises, there is blood burbling from his mouth. The men around Acwulf ad Briet cheer the blow and wait to see what Briet does next.

ooc: yes, that was what I was looking for.

 

[Bobitron]

Areld walks up to the edge of the combat, his massive frame ensuring him a place close to the melee.

"Ho there, Ealdstan! See what the stripling has done? And against a man larger than he, and with shield and longsword!" Areld's voice is full of mirth, and he ignores the dying man as he would a dead animal.

"I will stand for this man, and it would fill me with pride to have him at my side!"

 

[Fenris]

"Well Balthagais, I think the young man has a rather proper weapon. Tyz brings strength to the arm, not the weapon."

 

[taitzu52]

As Acwulf stands, Briet straightens his stance, shield at guard, crossed by his sword. He looks briefly over to the kind, in a brief salute, looking for any signs of hesitation in the eyes or moves of the monarch. Blood is pumping in he ears, drowning out the howls of the crowd, his eyes focus once more on Acwulf. Even this fool deserves a clean death, but Briet will not risk a fools last attempt for vengeance for the price of a showy execution. He lowers himself once more, and in three steps, charges the man. His Gladius circling his guard in a feint, and at the same time, bashing his sword away with his shield. And once more inside his guard, he drives his sword up, up underneath the dead man's jaw.

 

[Maerdwyn]

Balthagais shrugs an acknowledgement to Olaf, and then shouts a cheer for Briet along with all the others, as Acwulf's body collapses, utterly, to the floor.

Beowulf nods, somewhat solemnly, in Briet's direction, although he waits until Acwulf is truly dead before doing so. He approaches Briet and clasps him on the shoulders (in the customary gesture of friendship), and says quietly, "You have given him a warrior's death, Briet Ilsunga, and he thanks you for it." Then more loudlym for everyone, "I would have your aid against the Grendel if you will give it."