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Call of the Blood 3.2/?
Date: 2013-06-27 12:54 pm (UTC)The bastard was mocking me.
Fine.
I swung my sword, aiming at his neck with an overhand cut. He effortlessly batted my sword away, knocking me off balance and exposing an opening in my defence but he didn't press the attack, choosing to wait, contemptuously sneering at my effort.
I'll show him.
I feinted another blow at him, ducking under his deflection and turning my body into his as I aimed a cut across his abdomen. I had thought I was quick but he was faster, grabbing my wrist with his left hand before I could even make the cut, and twisting it until my sword clattered to the ground and he moved behind me. Instinct kept me fighting and I aimed a kick at his groin. It caught him on the thigh and he barely even noticed. A second later I felt the cold edge of his sword resting on the back of my neck. Then I was shoved roughly away, almost sprawling to the ground in an undignified tangle of limbs, pride wounded.
"You'll never make a Companion." It wasn't even said angrily. Just a mere statement of what he perceived to be fact. There wasn't anything I could say to that. Oddly I felt like crying, like a child getting scolded by a teacher they'd disappointed. He continued on, "I saw you fight in the battle as well as just now, you're weak. Your combat skills are poor and without your little tricks or your Housecarl to watch your back you wouldn't last a second in real fight."
His words struck a chord within me, more than that, they hurt.
"You think I don't know that?!" I snapped, snatching my sword up from the ground and turning back to face him, "Why else do you think I'm here?"
"To save yourself some money from our services in battle?"
"Vilkas-" His twin interjected from the side-lines, a warning note to his voice, but I was already swinging my sword at Vilkas. He barely managed to block my furious blow and I swung again the second I felt the pressure between our blades change, all my anger channelled at him. Again he caught my blade with his. I was just about to make a third swing when he effortlessly deflected my blade towards the ground and stepped back out of range.
"Better." His eyes stared down at me as I stood there, panting and utterly confused.
What the-?
"You might just make it. But for now, you're still a whelp to us, new blood. So you do what we tell you. Here's my sword. Go take it up to Eorlund to have it sharpened. And be careful, it's probably worth more than you are."
And just when I thought we were getting along.
"You want me to take your sword just up that rock? The one that we are literally standing under? What's the matter-don't your legs work any more?"
The man actually growled at me, stepping in so close that all I could see was his armour and his face leaning over mine, blotting out the weak sun, "I gave you an order. Is that a problem, whelp?"
For a moment, as we glared into each other’s faces, I actually felt like storming out. But I didn't. I'm no quitter. I'll show you. Jaw clenched, I snatched the sword from his hand and stormed up the hill in a huff.