Vaas Plains Castle (7) – The Blood of Kings.
“Perhaps I have. I learnt that one is to hold sacred the union of our brothers and their wives.”
A shot that was sure to be heard and the crowd gasped and whispered, for the game was about to turn nasty. He may be of white wings but he still believed in faith in marriage, and to honor the sacred union. He had caught sight of Sir Arthur and Lady Dana before the match, and it didn’t take much to see the games being played off the arena were just as dangerous as those that wielded the blade.
Sir Wayne watched carefully, as Sir Arthur was wielding two blades, one of which was his fabled “Majestic”, that he held with is right hand, the other hand he carried a second blade, that was just as shiny as the first. He took his position, and as the horn sounded, Arthur was up and off into the air, propelled by his legs and a simple flap of the wings to give extra speed. The sun was blocked out by the size of Sir Arthur’s wings, as he speared towards Sir Wayne, with a loud roar that would have the crowd jump to their feet, and in the moment of landing, the knight attempted a downward slash of his left handed blade, to which Sir Wayne side stepped, whilst swinging his sword in an upward motion to attempt a block so the blades would clash against each other. Using the propulsion of his wings he leaned backwards, supported by the wings power and attempted a sharp kick, to the lower stomach, as the sword Majestic slashed at Sir Wayne’s side, striking his chain mail and causing a gaping wound, with blood flowing freely out of his side.
(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.