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Tourney:Sparte vs. Jeffeth!

The next round in the tourney places Sparte Fatchforth against Sir Jeffeth Bayweather. Come check out the match!

Date

June 20, 2018, 9 p.m.

Hosted By

Sparte Jeffeth

Participants

Bliss Bashira(RIP) Ectorion Caspian Leona Astraea Orathy Harlex

Organizations

Location

Arx - Ward of the Compact - The Proving Grounds

Largesse Level

Grand

Comments and Log


Jared, an overworked-looking, nervous Apprentice Whisper arrives, following Bliss.

Narses, 6 King's Own Guardsmen arrive, following Leona.

Bliss has joined the Commoner Stands.

Caspian is already here sitting in the commoner stands, looking over to the duelists as they ready themselves, calling out to them, "Put on a good show, boys!" Grinning wide, he stretches, looking around at the commoner's bench to see who has decided to join the best bench in watching the fight tonight.

Orathy has joined the Commoner Stands.

Orathy brazenly walks into the training grounds and not alone if anyone can count. Regardless, he heads toward the commoner stands, shouting out, "Fer once I want the Iron Guard to win! Pound the shit out of 'em Stick-Man!"

Jeffeth is sitting in the grass, his duster flaring out where the cloth meets the grass, making a small semi circle around the large man lounging in the grass. There is a simple steel sword that has already been unsheathed and lays bare not far from him. One knee is arched and his massive arm is draped over it.

The big man seems to be struggling with something in his other hand, a small caramel which he is having trouble seperating from its small wax paper wrapper. Scowling at the caramel and trying to avoid eating paper Jeffeth is slowly getting more and more upset about his candy situation. Until finally there is a voice from the crowd and the Knight of Solace is looking up to realize there is a small gathering. A bright smile curls up his lips. Jeffeth goes to quickly pop up, giving a wave to those gathered. The caramel is dropped, "I'll pick that up after!" The big man calls out to the crowd, just in case anyone was worried about his littering. Jeffeth is then glancing around for his opponent.

Leona steps onto the tournament grounds, attention focused on the sands even though she's a little late. She seats herself quite firmly in the commoner stands and calls out, "Come on, Jeffeth!"

Leona has joined the Commoner Stands.

Bliss walks to the dueling grounds, cloak wrapped tightly around herself as she does, the Lycene Whisper clearly not happy about the winter weather as she looks toward the noble stands for a long moment, then just shrugs and gets into the commoner stands instead, sitting down on the front row as she waits for the duel to start with a smile on her face. "No, no, Sir Jeffeth has to win, I told him I'd see him in the finals!"

Harlex arrives, following Bashira.

Bashira has joined the Commoner Stands.

Astraea comes running in, because she's late, and almost stumbles to a halt. She laughs to herself and blushes a little but when Jeffeth is spotted she waves,"Good luck out there Champion!" It's clear from the way she's searching that there is a Sparte missing and she wants to cheer him on too. Even if she is walking towards the stands and waving to everyone. She reads the sign and looks a little downtrodden, standing at the base of the stairs and looking up like a puppy who wants in but knows better.

Caspian lets out a laugh over to Orathy and Bliss, grinning to the two as he rolls his shoulders and stretches, letting out a soft groan. "I should have gotten a betting ring started on who would win it all," he says, snapping his fingers. "Another time, I guess."

Orathy offers to Caspian, "The Casino handles bets on fights, if it were something you 'n yer guild would want to consider. Count Duarte, me patron, got the best mind for it."

Across from Jeffeth, Sparte is pacing about on his side of the ring. Doing a few simple stretches, limbering up. He has stripped down to his commoner clothes, hardly any protection at all. The iron guard armor he normally wears, along with the cape, set in a respectable and orderly pile a few feet away. Sparte glances over to the stands, smirking a bit before calling over to Jeffeth. "You have good friends." He makes his way forward, one hand raised in an offer to trade grips with his opponent before they start. "In Gloria's honor."

Jeffeth checked dexterity at difficulty 15, rolling 1 lower.

Bashira and Harlex are a tiny bit late, the Shaman has her arm curled through the Crimson Blades and there's a smile to him, "Yes, it's outside. I apologize." she tells him. "But we'll sit over there with my brother. I think I heard his voice." she grins at that as she leads them towards the commoner benches.

Ectorion has joined the Commoner Stands.

Ectorion had entered early and found a seat to watch, but been sitting quiet and watching the goings on, waiting to see how things panned out. He seems..preoccupied..though he finally focuses back upon the matter at hand.

Sparte wields Knothole Stave.

Jeffeth has rolled a critical success!
Jeffeth checked dexterity + athletics at difficulty 20, rolling 106 higher.

Harlex followed suit and found his eyes lingering toward the ring. "The cold is no trouble. What sort of match is it?" He inquired, over the din of the crowd as they moved to the benches.

Harlex has joined the Commoner Stands.

One foot tucks under the blade of his sword laying on the ground, and the big man goes to fling the blade up into the air. One hand goes out to catch it, Jeffeth isn't even looking at it. He just looks like he expects to catch it. But the toss of the blade was just a little bit off and only fingertips grip at the hilt before it... falls back to the grass. Jeffeth grimaces, giving a sheepish smile to the crowd. He holds his hands up to the crowd as if to say, 'give me a chance.'

Backpedalling, Jeffeth starts sprinting towards Sparte, and then leaps, going into a back handspring his hands landing on the ground right where the blade rested. Jeffeth somersaults through the air and sticks the landing, this time with his blade in hand. He gives a bright smile to Sparte. Before looking over to Orathy, then back to Sparte. He winces a little bit. Raising his blade in salute to Sparte. "May we bring glory to her name." He strides forward to lock grips with Sparte before falling back to get into stance.

Jeffeth wields simple steel longsword.

Sparte claps in appreciation of Jeffeth's display, gesturing for the crowd to show some support as well. "I'm not doing that, but it was pretty amazing. Just pretend you saw the first part twice, it'll be like I tried!" Sparte grins, pulling his staff off his back and nodding to Jeffeth. "When you're ready."

A fight has broken out here. Use @spectate_combat to watch, or +fight to join.

Orathy snorts at the antics, "That shit get ya killed in real fightin... YA pretending to be a jester out there Jeffeth?! Jeffeth the Jester!" Orathy taunts from the side lines, because there has to be a jeer or two in the crowd, "Come 'on StickMan, ya got his stupid ass! Get 'em!" He's cheering for Sparte?! Yep, seems that way.

"Woo! Sparte! Get em!" Astraea jumps up and down excitedly, until she spots Ectorion. Promptly making her way towards him,"Oi! You left without me."

Harlex added, "Private with the Crimson Blades." He put out his hand to the Grandmaster. His voice was roughened and he inclined his head but the ring caught his attention, especially that somersault and it appeared the bout had begun.

The fight is underway! If Jeffeth is going to reply to Orathy's jeering about his sick flipping moves, it clearly isn't going to happen right now. The behemoth of a man moves forward, circling the younger Sparte for a moment, his blade at the ready. "It's not that hard." The big man rumbles with a warm smile. Most likely talking about the flip moves. "I mean if you don't know how at first you'll hurt yourself a lot. /But/ I could help you." Jeffeth pipes brightly.

And with that bright as light comment, Jeffeth is moving in his blade flies in quickly, batting away Sparte's swordstaff with his sword as he angles the rest of his body for an attack. The big man sends a heavy elbow colliding into the center of Sparte's chest, with the first attack in the books, the fight is officially begun! Sparte's retaliation is met with a parry as Jeffeth steps back to disengage some, biding his time for the next opening. "You taught me some with that, after all. I owe you." Jeffeth motions to Sparte's stave.

Ectorion looks over at Astraea when she approaches him, looking embarrassed and hopping up. "Sorry about that," he says, before his voice drops lower.

Leona cheers as Jeffeth attacks, making hard contact and backing off, letting the other man breathe a little, biding his time. "Yeah! Nice elbow!"

Ectorion has left the Commoner Stands.

Ectorion has joined the Noble Seating.

Astraea has joined the Noble Seating.

Sparte takes the hit, falling back a ways. He rubs at his chest with one hand, giving Jeffeth a big grin. "I knew you were a natural. I also knew you were twice my size but I didn't expect it actually feel like a sack of bricks." Sparte's grin widens, giving Jeffeth a wink. "Hit me harder next time, the crowd'll love it."

Bashira takes a seat and offers Harlex the one next to her to him, "Jeffeth has been doing very well in his fights." she tells him. "Sparte knocked Sir Zebulon Whitewake into another land with that staff of his in their fight." she tells him in a quiet tone.

With a quick murmur in his ear by one of his men, Orathy rises up. He rolls his shoulder and moves on out. Apparently he's already bored.

Harlex focused on the fight. His eyes shifting to try and keep up with the movements. The strike from the heavy elbow even makes his brows lift with an impressed nod. He sits beside Bashira and nods, "I have no doubt. They both show great skill." He leans forward and to Caspian asked, "Who is the favored?"

Orathy has left the Commoner Stands.

Cyrus, 2 Culler Brutes, 3 Culler Hoodlums leave, following Orathy.

Harlex tried to lean forward a bit, peering down at the ring. He shook his head, unable to tell. "It was definitely a hit..." He muttered and then sat back.

The two men go at it for a bit. Striking out and parrying, Sparte fending off the far larger man fairly well with his staff keeping the Knight of Solace at bay. Jeffeth keeps his blade in front of the staff, parrying away any riposting strikes from the iron guardsman. This goes on for several exchanges, though it is clear to see Jeffeth is slowly creeping in, after every parry and riposte the big man is just an inch closer to the smaller man.

Then suddenly, Jeffeth is lashing out with several stronger blows, designed to get Sparte off balance. And then, one fist flies out into a fist against Sparte's side, guiding the man to the side and opening him up, for Jeffeth's blade to glide down against Sparte's ribcage, digging against the flesh there. With the struck delivered, Jeffeth immediately backs the heck up. His blade is held up first, to Sparte, showing him the crimson staining his steel blade.

The knight then rotates and shows the blood stained sword to the crowd. He is then immediately bowing to Sparte.

Sparte falls back after Jeffeth's display, his own hand going to his side to confirm what the other champion has shown him. He holds up his fingers red with blood, rubbing it between thumb and forefinger with a light laugh. "You cut me so gently that I'm still feeling your fists more than the slash. Maybe you should be a physician as well." Sparte places his hand back over the wound to control the bleeding, bending to bow towards Jeffeth. "In Gloria's honor, thank you for the battle."

Caspian rises up from the stands and cheers, calling out to them, "Good fight! Both of you!" He says, throwing his fist up. "And with that, the winner of the semi-finals is Sir Jeffeth! Sparte is knocked down to the Losers Bracket. But he's not out of the tournament yet! He can still get a rematch if he wins that bracket!" He calls out to the crowd. "Lets hear it for both of them!"

Astraea leaps to her feet from the noble stands and claps,"Good job guys! It was amazing and you both did a spectacular job. Sparte that defense is as wily as ever and Jeffeth your talent with a blade is nigh peerless." Again she beams happily and continues whistling and cheering for the pair of combatants.

Harlex stood as the fight ended and Jeffeth displayed the sleek blood on the edge of the sword. He brought his hands together, clapping firmly. "I should come to these more often," he commented toward Bashira with an appreciative smile.

Sparte is overheard praising Jeffeth: Well fought! Proud to have lost to you!

From the stands, Bliss whistles out and begins to clap her own applause to the duel, nodding her head in approval at what she has just seen. "I look forward to facing off against you soon, Messere Fatchforth! It should be a good fight! I will try not to bruise your ego too hard."

Leona cheers from the benches. "Well fought, Sir Jeffeth! Well fought and well struck! And an excellent fight from you, Messere Fatchforth!"

2 Grimhall House Guards, Leta, the student scholar arrive, following Ingrid.

2 Grimhall House Guards, Leta, the student scholar leave, following Ingrid.

Ectorion stands and applauds as well, "An excellent bout, from both contenders," he agrees with the others praising the battlers.

"Very well fought!" Bashira's usually quiet self cheers from the stands. She liked these two champions a lot. So she cheers for them heartily. There's a look over to Caspian, "So the finals are when?" she asks. Then there's a look to Harlex, "I try to go to most of them, if you aren't working you could come with me." she offers.

Jeffeth bows to the crowd, smiling brightly. Another bow is given to Sparte. "Well fought Master Fatchforth. An honor to fight with you." Going over to the side, he picks up a rag he had brought to wipe the blood from his blade. It is then sheathed and the big man walks over to clap a hand gently on Sparte's shoulder. "We should get you to the House of Solace." Turning to those gathered, Jeffeth smiles brightly at everyone. "Thank you all so much for coming! A good night to all!"

Sparte calls back out to the stands, "I value a fight lost more than a fight won, so long as it is one I can walk away from!" Leaning on his staff, he reaches into the pouch at his belt marked with a flame. Out comes some salve, which he uses to help treat the cut that ended the fight. "Even if I don't need stitches, this shirt will..."

Harlex is overheard praising Jeffeth: Excellent swordsmanship.

Astraea has left the Noble Seating.



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