Quiet hung over the barracks of Lanternwebs. Within, the recruits who would normally be sparring had spread out to the walls, leaving a wide open area in the center. In that circle stood two dwarves, both in masterfully-crafted plate mail which they carried easily, their eyes locked on each other with shields out. One held a sword high and back, its tip pointing unwaveringly towards the other's neck. The other held his axe low, the polished steel spike at the top of the haft nearly brushing the ground behind his armored feet. Surrounding them, the eyes of recruits and champions alike watched for the tiniest hint of movement from either of them.
The axe wavered, the steel spike touched the packed clay floor, and the sword sprang forward like a striking snake, the arm behind it uncoiling to drive it towards the target it had been watching. The axedwarf's shield floated upwards and turned, catching the sword on its smooth surface and turning aside the blow with a soft whisper of sliding steel as the axe swung up from the feint, arcing high overhead to clang sharply on the swordsdwarf's raised shield. The swordsdwarf's momentum carried him past as he turned as the axedwarf stepped quickly and turned. The two fighters resumed their stances, their positions switched.
The swordsdwarf shifted his sword, moving his shield forward and bringing the sword to the front, poking around the side of the shield as he edged closer to the axedwarf. The axedwarf shifted his feet back slightly, bringing his shield closer and his axe up. This time, it was the axedwarf who moved first, his legs pushing him and his shield into the swordsdwarf, the two shields clashing and filling the room with echos. Unable to move the sword around his shield, the swordsdwarf instead crouched low and stepped, his knees almost touching the ground, as the axe swung over his head. Dropping his sword, he reached upwards to touch the axedwarf's plated arm, the fingers of his gauntlet closing tightly and guiding the arm through the rest of its swing and down, pulling the axedwarf towards the floor as the swordsdwarf stood from his crouch.
The axedwarf dropped his axe and braced one arm on the floor, supporting him as he swung his legs in a scything kick that swept the swordsdwarf's legs out from under him, then pushed off to send himself tumbling backwards into the falling swordsdwarf, where they both landed in a tangle of steel. Laughing, the swordsdwarf stood first, reaching down to help the axedwarf to his feet as they both retrieved their weapons from the floor.
"Tooninator, the wrestling lesson isn't until next week." Flint said in a mock serious tone. "You'll teach everyone bad habits. We're supposed to be teaching them how to use the weapons, not drop them on the floor. Good thing I stopped you."
"Hah!" said The Tooninator, his beard cracked with a broad smile. "The right way to win a fight is to do what you have to do to win it! If that means dropping your weapon and wrestling your opponent to the ground, they should be prepared to do that!"
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Winter has been boring thus far, no orcs yet. Ho hum. The Grand Army still has to keep busy, of course.
Movie of the second skirmish now available here
Maverick, Here you go: