Vaas Plains Castle (7) – The Blood of Kings.

*Arthur had been forced to halt in his attack, but readied his blade once more. He took this tiny respite as a chance to break word in reply to Wayne’s last comment. He understood it fully well, and he cared not even a little about it. Though, he could never pass up a chance to speak some smart ass comment.* “Perhaps, though I wonder to what avail that has gotten you, Sir Wayne. Tell me, what is it like to fuck the cunt of decaying flesh?” *His face took on the look of a sarcastic empathy. Perhaps that would have been a little mean, but, Wayne dug deep on him too. Arthur was just better at disguising it, in some situations at least.*

“Oh…too soon?” *He feigned a bit of sorrow next, hoping to force the man to attack next. He could see the blood flowing from the gash he had created with Majestic in Wayne’s side, and decided where he should focus the majority of his attacks.*

In trading of blows, there are some done with weapons, and others done with words, and those with heart know that to speak ill of the dead in such fashion was not only cruel, it was disrespectful. Sir Wayne though, knew in his heart, that his wife though she lived the years as that of a human, never in his eyes lost her beauty, but remained true of heart and devoted. Had she been there she would have said to her love, to turn the other cheek, but this was a battle of minds as much as it was of the swords they swung. Clearly Sir Arthur’s intent was to create a loss of concentration, and to be blinded by emotion, but what Sir Arthur did not understand, was that his wife was with him. The very sword he wielded was of her name, and he would honor her by using it instead of words spat back like a venomous snake.

Taking advantage of the fact that Sir Arthur was knocked back by the boot strike to the chest, and with Sir Wayne’s wings now giving full power, he launched at Sir Arthur, and with his blade held with both hands, he swung it in a slight diagonal arc, to cross the left side of Sir Arthur’s neck, in a move to slice open a major artery. The force of this, coupled with the pressure of his wings beating, could give better propulsion, as Sir Arthur used up time in his speech of hate and cursed words.

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No matter what happened, for better or for worse, she could not stop this match. Not to save either’s life, nor any other reason. Not only would it be unlikely that she alone could do it anyway, but it would arouse suspicion around her. She somewhat easily played off her sudden move to her feet as an attempt to get closer. She took a few steps forward and now stood at the edge of the box, her eyes flickering for a moment from Sir Wayne to his opponent, and then back to him. Whatever happened was going to be interesting, to say the least.

The Royal box was now mostly on their feet, for the action in the arena, had reached a new level of skill and with the blood being spilt it was clear that there was no love lost between the two angels. A battle between the light and dark of their kind, the people of Vaas Plains were now witnessing a spectacle like no other. Earlier, the King expressed his desire for Calypso to be the one to award the Champion the prize for the tournament, as well as a kiss, and though she declined due to feeling that the people would be upset to see a servant do the honors, he just chuckled and said.

“Well I’m not kissing either of them.”

It wasn’t lost on the King that Calypso was truly getting into the spirit of the match, the way she arched forward and could barely keep in her seat. Even the Queen was never this wriggly. The King, though fascinated with the daring and the skill at which his Knights traded blows, he was also watching all the spectators, and so glad that they were enjoying this battle of the ages. How fortunate the King was, that he had such brave knights to serve the realm. Smiling broadly, he raised a chalice of wine, and shouted.

“HOORAH!

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With both angels powering their wings to use them as a counterbalance to the force that each applied their swords became locked as Sir Wayne’s was held fast by a scissor lock of Sir Anthony’s. Faces so close together, and this was when Sir Arthur decided to use the one weakness now of Sir Wayne, the bleeding gash in his side. With a full on knee upward, the strike would land true, however, Sir Wayne was wearing a metal helm, so when the force of upward motion struck, this propelled the top half of his torso forward, and so to his head passed through the locked blades and he tried to slam or head butt powerfully into Sir Arthur’s forehead. Blow for blow.

Using his wings, Sir Wayne tries to pull back, with all the force he can muster, as he was fast losing blood from his battered side.

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(sorry its short)

She was bathed in the glow that one would expect from the highest of angels, for her life had been without sin, and she did so honor her God, and her husband till death.

“Let it end me.” he said to his wife, no longer seeing Sir Arthur standing there, consumed by the image of his beloved. But she shook her head and indicated his place was not yet at God’s side, but to live and fight on. And just as quickly as she had come the image disappeared, and the words of Sir Arthur were heard.

“Wayne. Yield. You are too badly injured.”

It was truth, and Sir Wayne turned his sword to the ground, and slammed it into mother earth, to declare his forfeit. The crowd roared in approval of the match, and sang the name of Sir Arthur, as Sir Wayne’s servants rushed out to take him to his tent to be treated for his wounds.

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