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Duel of 1685


wolfdwg

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10th First Seed 1685

 


Spoiler

 

 

 

 


 

Within the bustling streets of Carloustadt, amongst the fresh rays of a warm heartland sun was a dispute. Two parties bickered and slandered each other with words. On one side was that of Konyves of Styria, whilst the other was a man claiming the birthright of Horen, saying he was of the dragon’s ilk. After being given an ultimatum to kneel before the Emperor of Man. The claimant refused, stating he simply did not need too. This erupted a fire in Konyves and with a might blow from his black plated gauntlet, he drew blood. The claimant’s face swelled with bruising and internal hemorrhaging, whilst Konyves’s ebony plate stained with a speckle of crimson. By this time a large crowd had grown around the claimant, and begun to ridicule and mock him as he attempted to plead his case. It was then a duel was called for by the Margrave of Styria.

“I will not sully my hands with your pig-filth, liar. Evald!” Konyves called out beckoning his levy man, dubbed the ‘champion of Styria.’ “He shall fight in my stead.” stated Konyves. “Will anyone fight for me?” the impostor Peter Charles stated. There was a silence, before being erupted with the sound of laughter and mockery. One could say tears could be seen welling in the man’s eyes as hope faded from his visage.


 

 


 

The river Baltas. Unruly and rabid its current crashed on the wooden pylons holding the bridge up. On top of the bridge stood two armored men. Evald with his back to the capital, whilst the impostor Horen stood with his back to Ostrog Ivanoyy. They both strapped their shields to their left arms, and arming swords gripped in their right hands. They stared at each other, one whose face bulged from his helm from a vicious beating, while the other calm, cool, and calculating. Then the signal was given. Both men advanced in an en garde state, observing each other’s movements. Evald struck first, landing a feint hit on top of the impostor’s helm, causing the sound about the two to ring in a metallic clang. Next the impostor struck a glancing blow aimed at Evald’s torso, nearly grazing his side from the attempted pierce. But this proved to be the impostor’s undoing. Evald struck with his sword down on the man’s neck guard, promptly causing the impostor to flinch away in panic, whilst Evlad pressed forward send a jab with his sword through the man’s breastplate, striking his abdomen within.

A halt was called as the impostor collapsed to the flooring of the bridge, blood spewing from the man’s jaws, as he held his gut in agony from Evald’s strike. The several crown knight who were in attendance and who’d witnessed the duel flocked over to attempt to treat the impostor’s wounds. “To the Capital! His justice is not yet served.” Konyves stated as he then locked his hand in a clasp with Evald’s hand. “Fine strike sir, very good indeed. Now off to the capital.” he’d state


 

 



 

The crowd gathered around the man in the stockades, the impostor was of the line of Horen-Mardon, a treasonous line who’d betrayed the people of Renatus. Ser Pius, in his official renatian plate lazily made his way to the stockade, with the retinue of Konyves in tow. He stood on the stockade and made his declaration, “People of Carloustadt, subjects of his Imperial Majesty’s grand Empire. I am Ser Pius, Chapter Master of the Order of the Red Dragon, have looked into the case of this… ‘man’, and have deemed him an impostor to our bloodline. His sentence,” he looked to Ser Bogdan of Styria, “Is death.” The crowd erupted in bloodlust, baying for the head of impostor, eagerly wanting to grab the decapitated head. “Have you any last words?” Ser Pius stated to him. Tears welling in his tear ducts, “Please this is injustice!” he whined, as Ser Bogdan withdrew his sabre. As he raised up his sabre above the man’s head he bellowed out once more, “PLEA-.” he was cut short as his frightened expression plastered over his face. The clean strike of Bogdan’s blade had cut short the impostor’s pleas of mercy, such is the fate of those who lay false claims on the bloodline of the dragon…


 

 


 

Chronologed by

Scribe Syd Kerznov of Styria

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Ilya Ivanovich offers the quaint nod of his head, "None can defeat us, much less serpents." 

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"Well... Dat ended quickly." Glottgut scratched his chin.

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Moved to The Great Library. It shall be sorted into the appropriate category shortly.

 

If you feel this is a mistake, please contact myself or any FM and we'll restore it. 

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