Unexpected Encounter

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Unexpected Encounter

Postby kaylor » Mon Jan 16, 2012 4:47 pm

Kaylor gave a satisfied nod toward the completion of his morning's work as he summoned his steed. Arising before dawn he'd set skill to task, grooming Lord Chalnoth's mount and seeing his armour returned to combat readiness. A glass of wine now seemed the perfect precursor to the remainder of his day of prayer and service with the monks at Yew Abbey followed by riding the night's hunt with his liege lord.

The smells of liquor and stale sawdust reached out to his nostrils as he took refuge in the deepest corner. Dimly lit by candles ensconced along rough-hewn planked walls, the tavern was filled to the brim with drunken sailors on shore leave. He leaned his chair back and stretched muscular legs beneath the rickety wooden table. Content with anonymity amongst the shadows, he took the bottle offered by a passing serving wench returning her smile with a wicked grin as he downed half its contents. "Damnable chastity," he sighed, forcing his eyes away from the temptation of her amply exposed decolletage.

"Well, if'n it ain' tha' 'igh an' mighty warrior priest!"

Searching his surroundings for the gravelled accent's source his gaze came to rest upon a shrouded figure lurking near the stairs. Face hidden by cowl, he was able to discern little more than angled features and the sudden flash of a quickly drawn blade. Kaylor scowled, lowering his hand to his own weapon's hilt.

Neither this fool's name nor his inexplicable familiarity bore consequence. Time and place receded, the two of them existing in an isolated half world where the only realities were the weapons in their hands and the pressing need to use them.

Kaylor sprang with sudden ferocity, his blade homing for the stranger's chest. The man leapt aside but not far enough. A rent appeared in his shirt, blood staining the tear before he could recoil. A warning crowded into his brain as the Templar advanced exuding power and confidence, dominating with disciplined precision, blows sharper, harder, increasingly difficult to parry or evade. He grunted as he gathered his wits, attacking with charging fury, lunging into a virulent attack which Kaylor parried with a scraping of blades that sent blue and orange sparks showering over them. He then retreated, swirling with speed and perfect timing into an abrupt stop thrust. Kaylor immediately seized the offensive, counter-attacking, driving the man backward before executing a lunge with such definitive power it forced his foe to resort to a twisting leap. Before he could catch himself the merciless steel of Kaylor's blade ripped through his belly, sinking deep. It was quickly withdrawn so that the man plunged downward, his weapon falling from feebled fingers as his dying carcass splayed onto the floorboards.

A few agile steps and Kaylor was standing directly over his still uknown adversary. "You had it right, sir," he seethed returning his sword to its scabbard. "Warrior priest."
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Postby kaylor » Tue Jan 17, 2012 4:07 pm

Kaylor knelt beside the stream, his discarded tunic on the ground beside him. A chill rain dripped from the barren branches overhead, soaking through his cloak and trickling down his back. His focus too centered upon the fight to notice, it wasn't until taking his leave of the tavern that he'd discovered the rent in his armour and the sanguine rivulet coursing its way from the torn flesh beneath. He dipped a cupped hand into the icy water, bringing the cleansing liquid to the wound which, while certainly not mortal, was deep and would likely prove a hindrance until healed. He'd do his best to hide the pain and whatever limitations it threatened to cause, for it would make poor excuse to attempt explanation to Chalnoth when he had none to offer. Who his assailant had been, why the man had drawn steel against him, how he'd even known who he was, were questions without answers . . . for now.

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