Darkenhold: Social Climbing through Competitive Swordsplay

[Glenn]

It would be another successful parry by the Duke, though Glenn's dagger was there to make sure Burel's rather meager counter would come up short. Driving him back was more important at this point than getting a point. Glenn wanted to maintain his control of the flow of the battle now that he has finally taken it.

"Ah, so you'd save your blood the guilt of hard choices at the cost of innocent lives that might not have suffered otherwise. Responsible leadership, that. Anyway, someone has to pass judgment, even if the only punishment I can set upon you is a hardy execution of your pride, and perhaps that nose of yours."

Perhaps his comment was reined in a bit due to Burel's own familiarity. Perhaps it was simply because Glenn did not want to speak overmuch here. He wanted to lunge once more, and with with that last word and half a smile, Burnie did lunge forth again. A third time for that nose. A third time with the dagger ready to defend.

[Vanidor]

"My nose, hm? Is it that offensive? Lenore happens to like it." This said in between the lunge and his counter to it. Which was simply him sidestepping to his right and a gentle push of his sword to urge Glenn's away. Again. No counter. How strange, considering how much Burel had just about demanded being on the offensive for almost the entirety of the match thus far.

"When something grows, other things need be pushed aside. If you wanted to be so... so callous about it, I wager. But you suggest that I do not mourn the lives of those lost? Not at all. For every soldier of Derry that perished due to the energies of the Aegis, I wept inside. For every mother who has lost a husband, a child a father, I weep. Loss of life is a sadness, not something to be exult in. But... Adversity breeds strength. We cannot be strong without something to test us. Perhaps not daily, but certainly often enough to keep us from becoming slack in our studies. In our... skills."

Return to point, as it were. Burel was as calm as ever as he said this. He wasn't arguing his point, really, but stating it. The man fairly -oozed- confidence in his stance in the way of things. "Otherwise, Master Burnie, you would not have been able to ward off my attacks for so long. I would almost consider you a Blademaster." And that, Glenn, should be taken as a rather high compliment. Burel gained his recognition by slaying two in one duel. He'd almost died because of it, but there it was. When one Blademaster said such a thing... Politics was never part of the decision.

[Glenn]

Glenn had been arguing a point up until now. He had spoken with some refugees, yes, but there was no personal stake in this matter, not any more than his affection for Myrken Wood was concerned. But here? Oh, here Burel said something that he would take quite personally.

"Adversity? Those who fell to the Aegis? You wept? How does dying in the face of their arcane power make anyone stronger? It is unfair bullying at its very best and inhuman slaughter at its worst. You wept as your corps of wizards rained fire down upon men with nothing more to defend them but good steel and brave hearts. How noble of you.

"Oh yes, Duke. The world IS unfair. We become stronger because of it. But it is unfair because men like you, with all of your NOBLE reasoning and heavy burdens, contribute to that unfairness at every turn."

Blademaster, then? An honor, then? Fine. It would be an honor Glenn Burnie would attempt to truly earn, here and now, at Burel's expense. For he has let politics get in the way and now he was impassioned and his attacks took on some real ferocity. It was his intention to make continuous lunges now, high, low, and high again, protecting himself only slightly with that dagger. He would mark the Thessalinian, even if it cost him such a mark in return.

[Vanidor]

This made Burel smile, really. For as Glenn repeated his lunges, Burel only swept and swirled his sword like it was made of light wood. Up, down. Low, high. The Duke's sword was as quick as Glenn's rapier was lightening. Yet, still, he refused to counter attack. His scabbard still rested behind him, the tip quivering with each parry and block and subtle dodge performed by the Duke. The man had refused to give up any more space, either. Yes, Glenn, the man was more than capable of defense.

"You speak of how unfair it is that I took what I could to achieve what I wanted? How is that unfair? Your Governor could have appealed to Coran for his assistance at any time before the start of hostilities between Thessilane and Trae Kelsa. Derry, itself, has it's own magical resistance that has nullified the channelers to an extent. How is this unfair then? It is unfair that they did not provide for their own men the same protections that their capitol now effects. They withheld the ability to stop the destruction caused by the Aegis. At any time, Glenn, they could have enacted their defenses and warded their soldiers. Not until we were howling at their gates, a feat we achieved by marching through the land, did they bother to do something about it."

Down, up. Low, high. The Duke continued to parry and block like it was a simplistic rythem. "Even your Governor turned to magic to protect the city of Myrkentown, did he not? That vaunted wall of yours, that more than easily prevents large scale teleportation. His actions to secure Myrken for himself? None of that was terribly legal, was it? Except for the fact that Myrken -let it happen-, and once again Trae Kelsa did nothing except applaud like an idle spectator." Calm and collected. Even his gaze was unwavering.

And here, finally. The Duke would flourish his sword through one of those lunges. The weapon would come down, the flat thumping against the length of Burnie's blade, before it shot forward along that same length. The Duke followed suit, as well, his stance shifting him forwards as his blade danced for the Mapmaker. The weapon wanted to cut at Glenn's face, maybe a mark upon the cheek. Either way, the scabbard remained behind Burel.

[Glenn]

"As I said, Burel... Unfair. I spoke of the men who allowed such unfairness to continue. Not just you. It's on both sides such men exist, and those who failed to protect those serving under them were just as poor as you for ordering their deaths... and you no better than them." For someone who was increasingly vested in politics, he spoke with a sort of youthful righteousness. "We went to lengths, yes, but to protect our people, ALL of our people, and our actions were purely defensive!" And thus they had the higher moral ground, law be damned. Law didn't matter, not when people's lives were IMMEDIATELY at stake.

When Glenn Burnie arrived to Myrkentown he had such a sense of self-preservation. Little of that was present now. Perhaps Burel could see the tip of the scarring upon his collarbone, the scarring that represented the mapmaker's stubbornness in the face of power beyond his understanding. Here and now, it meant that he would let himself be marked, would let that swordpoint slice a tight line upon his left cheek. It was a worthy sacrifice to get even slightly within Burel's guard, so that he could bring his sword up... a feint primarily, one that might allow him to slash at Burel's face with a sweeping motion of his own dagger. Despite the ferocity of his words and the intensity of his attack up until now, Glenn wasn't intending to cut off the man's nose, only to leave his mark upon it.

[Vanidor]

The response to this attack was certainly different. Somehow the Duke had managed to tuck the end of his scabbard into his belt whilst the thing had been held behind him. It freed his left hand to sweep outwards and grasp at the rapier blade. Oh, he knew it was sharpened, not sure how far down the blade it had been done, but he knew. That was why he would attempt to grasp the thing from the top, his grip held by the palm and not the fingers. He didn't mind spilling his own blood, that was certain, but he did need those fingers.

His head shifted as well, pulling backwards to avoid a cut to the nose directly. His chin, however, was another matter. There'd be no wince or other mark, though, as the tip of that dagger nicked at his angular chin and allowed a furrow of blood to trickle downwards. He was too busy otherwards, because his sword was still in motion.

To follow up the cut to his chin, and the fact that were almost within one another's guard, the Duke would turn his hand and bring the hilt of his sword up against Glenn's neck. Burel was sure that Glenn was aware of his speed, in a real fight, it would have been a simple matter to whip the weapon back and perhaps slice the Mapmaker's neck open. Burel would simply aim to tap Glenn in the adam's apple with his fingers.

"I never said that I was better, Glenn, did I? I did start the war, after all. And once we can settle negotiations with the Princess, I will end the war as well. Do you wish to continue, or should we see to our cuts?"

[Glenn]

One of the first things Glenn Burnie learned from his teacher was to not flinch from an incoming weapon. He did not, of course, lose a healthy respect for it. There were certain gambits that he was still mentally incapable of. Grabbing onto an incoming blade was one of them. He was taken aback, ever so slightly, just enough. This was just supposed to be friendly, despite his intensity. That will be a nasty cut Burel had just taken upon his hand for a friendly spar even if it allowed him victory.

"You're not better than them, Duke. Not at all." A slight pause here. His mind was racing to see just how he might get out of this, how he might.. no, it was rather plain and simple just where they stood. Glenn Burnie stood with a sword at his neck. "But you seem to have won the day." He could have brought his Dagger into Burel, SOMEWHERE, but it would have been the mapmaker's last act.

"I yield. We'll see to our cuts, but only on the promise that we'll do this again sometime soon." He was keeping his chin up, figuratively and otherwise.

[Vanidor]

There was a slight smile upon the Duke's face here and then a step back taken. The sword swept in a semicircle up behind him and there was an almost satisfying *snick* as the weapon found it's home. "Anytime you wish, Glenn. I think I see why Calomel keeps you around... Other than friendship, that is."

Burel would have let go of the Mapmaker's weapon as well, his hand clenching slightly to capture some of the dribbling blood within the palm. "Hm. I did not think you sharpened the thing so far down. My mistake, hmm. In any case, yes. Whenever you wish, Glenn, whenever you wish. Now then. Give my best to the Governor, yes? And to his wife as well. Best wishes to them and their firstborn, hm?"

And here, the Duke would offer a little salute to Glenn, then glanced down to eye the small stain of crimson that dripped from his chin. "Lenore will have a fit, I am afraid... Apologize to Miss Rhaena for me, for the mark on your cheek, hm? I cannot think that I would want her come after me all enraged. Mad women are... a different issue all together." A little smile, a partial wince, then a shake of his head. It was time to clean up.

[Glenn]

"Miss Rhaena already knows. She suggests you watch your back for the next day or two." Though it was said with a smile, at least a slight one. She didn't mean it, probably. Glenn Burnie was his teacher's student. He did not tolerate healers, at all. It meant the scar wasn't going anywhere.

"And I best get back to her. My thanks for the sport. It was illuminating. I do hope we can get together and speak about it further. I'd be interested in hearing your critiques." For now, though, it was well within his best interest to get away from Darkenhold rather quickly, before that teacher might come about and find him here. That would be rather.. painful, after all. He was already making a swift escape.