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Back a step
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Back a step
| Master_Barker
Posts: 1,206 Status: Duke Karma: +1,282 [+1] [-1]   |
Subject: I hope this is long enough... | |||||
| Barker sat furiously polishing his lance when he interrupted by a knock on his tent. After hearing the grunt of acknowledgment John Thomas entered bearing the news that Barker has been long waiting for. “Sir... uh... Master... Barker your scheduled joust with Sir Scabernac is to take place two hours hence.” John Thomas informed Barker. Barker stood, his long blonde locks flashing in the light. He turned towards the manservant, his robe open revealing his steel hard… physique. “Very well, you are dismissed.” John Thomas took one last furtive look over Barker before hastily leaving the tent. Barker looked over to his squire, Richard Taker. “So what do you know of this… Scabby Knackers?” Barker asked, wanting to know as much about his opponent as possible.. “Not much. But I assume that he must have been visiting that house down strumpet lane, you know the one, with the red lantern out the front.” “Yeah I reckon I had the same thing after my last vis… I mean no, never heard of it.” Richard gave Barker a knowing look. “Perhaps I should get you into your armour sir.” He suggested. Finally suited up, Barker got Richard to put the last piece of armour on, the gorget (because no-one wants another mans lance in his throat). Finally ready he made his way to where his destrier was stabled. Waiting for Richard to saddle the mount, Barker stood waiting, letting the morning sun warm his tired bones. Deciding it was too hot for his wig today he removed the blonde hairpiece and shook the mounting sweat from his short brown hair. “Seriously how long does it take to put a saddle on a horse?” he complained to his overworked squire. “You know how bad tempered this beast is, sir” Came the answer “You could give me a hand if you wanted to speed things up you know.” “And soil my hands on such menial tasks? You must be daft.” Barker scoffed. “I just have on question for you, sir.” His squire asked hesitantly. “I know that this tournament is for the hand of the fair princess Arianna, but I was thinking. Is she really worth all this hassle? It’s not as though she’s a pure fresh maiden. Seriously, she already got kids… It’d be like getting an awesome present for Christmas but finding out someone else already opened it for you.” Barker stood there eyes bulging mouth half open with surprise and shock not knowing what to say except, “wtf?” Finally the horse was ready, and not a moment too soon Barker noted as he looked down at his new sundial watch. 15 minutes to go. He quickly mounted and taking his helmet and shield from his squire he guided off the warhorse off with his knees. “Come on Pinky-Pie.” He crooned into it’s ear. “We’ve and engagement to get to. Arriving at the jousting arena, Barker quickly focused his thoughts onto the task at hand. He looked across at his opponent, noting the serious expression and steel hard look in his eyes, Barker knew this would be no easy task. He cast his mind back to the countless lessons with his former knight masters who schooled him in the arts of war. The hour upon hour spent in the training yard practicing lancing rings until he could strike true even while blindfolded. He saluted the royal box, and gave the crowd a hearty wave. Apart from the few heckles and lettuces thrown his way he failed to get much of a response. It wasn’t hard to see who the crowd favorite was here. His opponent did the same eliciting a roar from the crowd that nigh on shook the stadium to the ground and almost caused Barker to soil himself before his iron self control was able to assert itself. “Lucky it’s a rental.” He thought to himself. He put his helmet onto his head and called to his squire. “I think we’re going to need Sticky for this one.” He said. “S-s-sticky? Are you sure, sir?” His squire stammered, knowing the gravity of what he was hearing. “It will take no less.” Barker solemnly intoned. “I don’t think the lucky jocks are going to cut it on their own today.” “Lucky jocks? Didn’t you steal them off the princess’s clothesline just the other week? How can they be lucky?” “Shut up! They ARE lucky. How else would I have been able to get away with it?” Barker squealed back. “Now get Sticky.” Richard reverently went and collected the solid gold case that housed Sticky and held it up gently to Barker. Barker flipped back the clasps holding the lid closed and opened it to reveal his most prized possession. Sticky was a lance that had been handed down through the generations of the Barker’s family. Never used, lest it be lost, it’s potent power had never been tapped. Until now. Barker took up the lance and marveled at it lightness but obvious strength. It’s pine length was smooth and glowed with an almost magical sheen. Barker knew that this was merely the lacquer that had been applied to it in ages past by some long forgotten ancestor, but it never failed to impress the masses of the ignorant. He guided Pinky-Pie to the start of the jousting course. Giving his opponent, who had done similar, a small nod, he closed his visor and spurred his horse into movement. He Checked Pinky-Pie at a slow gallop and aimed Sticky towards his opponent ‘s helmet. “Maybe if I knock that fancy crest off the top, he’ll be so embarrassed he’ll take his own life?” Barker thought. Knowing that that was unlikely he resolved to his course of action. The words of his former instructors running through his thoughts, he leaned forward slightly and cocked his arm back, locking the lance into place and steadying it in his armpit. He angled his shield to deflect as much of the incoming blow as possible and prepared himself to slide backwards to absorb whatever force was left. He spurred Pinky-Pie again now, causing the horse to leap forward into a faster gallop. At the last possible moment he lowered his aim with Sticky to the top of his opponent’s shield and thrust forward with his lance arm to deliver as much force in the blow, while sweeping his shield arm to the left to attempt to deflect his opponents lance wide. |
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