Within the heartland of the Ebira continent, there exists the Antiquity Empire of Atar Khos.

Atar Khos has a history of almost three hundred years and is the most developed society in the continent.
As it is the reigning Hegemon, Atar Khos has never had any external threats to fight against... The only thing it fights against is itself!

Long ago, the extremely populous Ataric and Khosii ethnic groups began to develop Clans.
Copper metal was found in the mountains, leading to the creation of better hunting weapons.
The Clans expanded, and began to butt heads.

300 years ago, the leaders of these clans began to compete against each other, and they formed City-States beneath them.
Conflict lasted for four generations (~80 years), before it was settled with the advent of the Unification Emperor

Thus, 220 years ago, the Empire of Atar Khos was founded, with the capital city-state of Imperium ruling over the seven other city-states.
The reign of the Unification Dynasty lasted for six generations, but it eventually collapsed.

100 years ago, with the rise of an enigmatic figure named Debrum Voltis, the Unified Empire of Atar Khos broke into civil war.
Ten years later, Bronze was discovered, and the bloodshed was immense among the 24 city-states.
The conflict lasted for about 15 years, before Debrum Voltis was slain by the Phoenix Emperor at Mount Katharis in the fateful Battle of Imperia.
The aftermath was not easy to deal with, but the Phoenix Emperor managed to rebuild. Atar Khos was reformed as the Antiquity Empire

Modern day:

Currently in it's Second Unification, the Antiquity Empire of Atar Khos is comprised of 37 city-states.
However, discontent is brewing. For over forty years, the Autarchs who rule the city-states have been split across four factions:

 - The Imperial Faction, who submit themselves to the Emperor, honoring the oaths of fealty their ancestors swore. Imperia, the six city-states surrounding Imperia, and the edge-case outer city-state of Penultima (also known as Bastion) make up this alliance.

 - The Traditionalist Faction, who admire the past. They have many gripes with the current Imperial Faction, but generally respect the Emperor's authority. Dangerously, however, is the fledgling group within the faction called the Revivalists, who have an almost mythological devotion to the ancient ways of the 'Clan system', which predates Atar Khos proper. They currently have ten members.

 - The Noval Faction, who seek new ways to bring glory to the Empire. They advocate for a more Republic-based society, and are heavily aristocratic. Democratic tendencies exist within the boundaries of these City-States, though corruption is rampant and it would be stranger to find an elected Autarch (they instead call themselves as Primarchs) who isn't incredibly shady and with secrets to hide. The Noval Faction has fifteen members

 - The Moderate Faction, led by the allied city-states of Harathin and Krade. They are very new, only emerging in the last couple decades. It is difficult to say exactly what their creed is. They currently have four members, but are always attempting to bring more Autarchs to their side.

Beyond the factional lines, there are also geographical lines.

Atar Khos is vast, and always expanding. For that reason, cultural and economic differences have emerged over time, based on the distance from the capital city, from which many supplies are administered

The 'Central' States are those belonging to the Imperial Faction (sans Penultima)

The 'Interior' States are roughly evenly split between the Traditionalist Faction and the Noval Faction, at any given time.

The 'Outer' States are mostly Noval, though a couple of west-ward city-states go against the grain and align themselves with the Traditionalists. Harathin and Krade are Outer States in the eastern end of the empire.

Religiously,
The Antiquity Empire of Atar Khos is secular. Though, some national mythology exists, centered around the Emperors and their apparently heroic deeds and supposedly incredible gifts and talents.

Geologically,
Atar Khos is 60% a mix of sparse forests and grasslands or savannahs. The other 40% is made of the Khosi Mountains, where surface ore is extracted.
A tiny portion of the savannahs are nearly-desertified, and a small portion of the Khosi Mountains bleed into the Ataric Plateau

~~

On the eastern border of the City-State of Denaster,
A small platoon of soldiers is preparing for a mock battle against the forces of the City-State of Mutiny

While they are both Interior states - and of the Traditionalist faction - Denaster and Mutiny do not get along. They have not for many years, ever since the current Autarchs came to power. They have deep rivalries against each other and grudges as well.

This mock trial, on paper, is about training their troops.
In reality, the military officials leading the opposing forces both want to crush and humiliate the other.

In the Empire, armed conflict is not common, because it requires the Emperor's direct approval... but it's not unseen. While the Emperor normally has a rigid stance against burning or espionage, he sometimes allows combat and looting. The specifics are intricate, but they don't matter.

Currently, this is just a 'practice examination'. Of course, if a couple recruits get injured or even die, it's no big deal. These things happen, don't they? As long as nobody takes it too far, the Emperor surely won't be bothered to intervene.

...

That's where Leander finds himself. He's been training for six months, and this is his first deployment.

Though he isn't being expected to take life or to risk his own here, everyone knows there is a non-zero chance some of them get seriously injured or even killed. This isn't merely 'friendly sparring', it's more of a measuring contest. What exactly is being measured, well it's pretty obvious. Oh, and it's not combat prowess.

Leander has been a trainee, but after this battle he'll be an official recruit into the 104th Denaster Eagle Squadron.

He's already picked out his weaponry for this occasion. He has some partial bronze armor (a cuirass, thigh guards and one wrist guard) as well as his weapon of choice. He's decently trained in most of them, by now.

They've been lined up here for hours. Even though it's a mild spring, he's sweating buckets through this partial armor. He needs to have discipline though, lest he piss off the Commander.

With a couple familiar faces to his left and right, Leander's eyes narrow as he hears them giggling about something.

His eyes then narrow further as the Commander approaches. Shit. Hopefully, he doesn't get dragged into this-

"Enough! This mock battle will commence on the Centurion's call! Keep your ears open, trainees!"

Well. Not long left.

OOC: I feel like there's a lot more I should say here, but honestly this is already a lot for a first post.
Just let me know if anything needs clearing up. One thing to mention is that you are faced up against the enemy, separated by about a thousand feet. You can choose whether you are in the front or back rank for your Platoon.

Here's a breakdown of the military units I'm using for Atar Khos:

 - Squadron: 4-10 Soldiers. Led by a First Class Recruit, sometimes called a 'Snick' (named after a rodent species that exists in droves across Ebira) because of their common ratlike behavior. Basically, a First Class Recruit has no real authority, just the responsibility to maintain order and morals in their Squadron, and to deliver their superior's orders. It's the first step to gaining recognition, but few people want to take it as it tanks one's popularity

In training, a Squadron is basically your bunkmates.

 - Company: 3-8 Squadrons. Led by a Commander. A commander is the lowest 'true' officer rank. It's better than being an average soldier.

In training, a Company is basically the equivalent of your class for a high school reunion. The peers you learned alongside, though not in academic matters in this case.

[12 to 80 Soldiers, min. ~30, avg. ~50, max. ~80]

 - Platoon: 2-4 Companies. Led by a Centurion. A centurion is actually a respected title, because few idiots make it this far.

In training, you've never encountered a centurion or higher.

[24 to 320 Soldiers, min. ~100, avg. ~120, max. ~200]

 - Division: 3-6 Platoons. Led by a Tribune. Being a tribune basically makes you a member of the upper class elites.

[72 to 1920 Soldiers, min. ~300, avg. ~750, max. ~1800]

 - Legion: Every Division belonging to the city-state. Led by the General, who is sometimes actually the Autarch.

Some city-states only have 1 Division, but most have at least 2. No city-state has a double-digit number of Divisions. Average is 3 or 4.
Powerhouses might have 7 or 8

~~~

A lot of those units and ranks are different for Imperia, which doesn't have a military as a city-state, but instead is directly defended and maintained by the Emperor's own military.

(The Emperor also has personal guards, known as the Honor Guards. Being an Honor Guard is so lofty that one is almost on the same level as an Autarch despite not being involved in any politics. Crazy stuff)

The joys of military life - standing around in armor for hours for no particular reason, other than the usual nonsense of 'orders', 'discipline', and 'testing your mettle.' Or because some idiot officer either forgot about you, or because he wants to impress a superior (or avoid being castigated by same). To Leander though it was no great strain, for he had the benefit of both an outstanding constitution and the patience of knowing he had eternity to wait: when time wasn't ticking by quickly it was easy for Leander to remain calm - even with idiots like Zeno and Gib cracking jokes on either side of him. He was about to tell them to keep quiet when Commander Freck appeared, looking ready to spoil someone's (everyone's?) day, as usual. Freck was two things - one, he was an ideal Commander, because his uniform was always pristine, he rigorously enforced discipline, and he liked shouting at people; and two, he was the worst sort of Commander - no backbone, no imagination, and utterly expendable. If he hadn't been born to a well-to-do family he'd have probably been dead long ago, but as it stood his days were probably numbered regardless.

But just then, fate decreed that Freck's vitriol would have to wait, and that the 'mock' battle would commence. Finally, thought Leander. This was what he had been training for all these months, what he had chosen as his path for the forseeable future over a life in the shadows, a life of theft and petty crime and...ease. There was nothing easy about the army, or at least very little in the way of relaxation. Which was all by-the-by. To Leander this was merely the next step in his path to...destiny? That seemed a rather strong word for it, but what word would do otherwise? He had known from his earliest memories that he was different, a cut above, not given to the petty needs and deeds of others. There was greatness ahead of him, of that he had no doubt, and he knew (or so he thought) how he would get there.

And it started with volunteering to be his Squadron's 'Snick', an unusual move to say the least, but Leander was no rodent, nor a sneak - he lead by example, a natural leader. The other soldiers in the squadron all knew they relied on him not to get them killed on Freck's behalf, and they all knew he could interpret their Commander's orders and make it work for them, then make Freck feel like it had been his idea all along. And that had just been training. 'Mock' battles were much more than that, even when they were not supposed to be, and especially when Mutiny were the opponents. Blood would be shed this day, and Leander planned on being among those who drew it. He lifted his sword point upward, then spun it by the hilt a few times for comfort. Zeno and Gib had spears, as did the rest of the front rank, but as the Snick Leander had a sword, and he wielded it far better than any recruit.  All that they needed now was the order to engage, and even as he stared forward Leander's ears listened intently for the Centurion's call.


OOC: Names added for color. I've stated a sword for my weapon, but what type of blade I'm not sure as I don't know what the options are - could be a simple longsword, could be a katana, whatever works best.

As Leander narrowly avoids his Commander's reprimand, he makes the sword - a single-edged saber - comfortable in his grip. He was confident in his ability with the sword, as he had learned much more quickly than any of the other soon-to-be recruits.

As he awaits the Centurion's call, Leander's thoughts wander along his history. While other orphans suffered from hunger or disease, living on the streets had always been easy for him. Pickpocketing wasn't all that difficult, since his handsome face was a good distraction.

Yet, he had always felt like he wasn't fulfilling something important. Leander has always believed himself to be special, though others merely saw him as an impoverished, but handsome, commoner. Leander, however, has always quietly believed that a greater destiny awaits him!

So, today, Leander plans to draw blood for his squadron. Maybe, if he performs well, he will be on his way to becoming a First Class Recruit. He doesn't really care if his squadron mates think highly of him, he is a natural leader, and so all that matters to him is that the others follow his example.

The half-wits Zeno, Gib and Freck have been especially irksome to Leander during his months of training. He never really bothered to learn their actual names, just using their nicknames from among the squadron. 'Zeno' at least might be a real name, but Leander doesn't particularly care

---

After a few tense moments, the Centurion blows into his horn, signaling the battle's beginning. Neither Commander immediately advances their troops. The reason is because most of the recruits are extremely nervous. Even though this is a mock battle, everyone present is aware that there are going to be at least a couple sacrificial lambs.

Nobody wants to be one of them.

Eventually, the enemy commander commands his troops to begin marching. They do so, clearly reluctant but without hesitation - they've been brainwashed to follow orders before their own thoughts.

Freck - hating to be outdone, despite how often that happens - matches the order, and the four training squadrons begin to march. Leander is in the second row from the front, so he won't be seeing any combat right away.

Eventually, the two armies halt within one hundred feet of each other.

The enemy commander speaks first, shouting across the field from his front-and-center position on his decorated horse, to Freck who is cowardly hiding in the corner of the entire formation, on his much more heavily armored (and less decorated) horse.

"Denaster Comamnder, Dormatteo Albas! What do you say to a spar between our two finest? Surely, you've trained at least a few actual talents that you want to show off? I'll even let you pick the weapon for my champion to use! It would surely be good for the morale of the soldiers to see they have strong companions by their backs, yes?"

Quite some time passes as Freck (or Doormat Abacus, or whatever his actual name was) doesn't respond. The silence stretches for so long that hushed murmurs go through your squadron, and the enemy commander even begins to wear a slightly pitying look on his face.

Leander almost wants to facepalm in embarrassment. He can't see Freck right now, but it's obvious he's probably wearing a stupid expression while he tries to think of a comeback.

Eventually, even Freck realizes his prolonged silence is embarassing his Company, and so he stutters out a response just as stupid as Leander was expecting.

"D-damn ri-right! Um, Mutinty Commander .... " he goes quiet again before someone leans over into his ear and whispers the enemy commander's name, which he must have forgotten despite being briefed on literally earlier this morning.

"... Jasper Cerus...! I challenge your finest, to fight my finest! My champion is very strong, and so ... uh. ...  I will return the right to choose the weapon to you!"

His tone gets more confident as he continues, and you can just imagine the self-satisfied, smug look on Freck's face right now...

Also, there's very little need for Leander to consider how badly they are screwed. Regardless of if they actually have any true talents among them, Freck wouldn't have noticed - he was barely present during the months of training. Leander's squadron for example was given instruction by a couple retired veterans. Those guys had more skills in their little pinky than Freck has in his whole body.

Jasper Cerus, for his part, has a mocking expression. In fact, vague chuckles can even be heard among the enemy troops from this distance. Clearly, the Mutiny trainee company has a rising star among them, and this was an obvious trap that Freck stumbled into blindly.

----

As the two camps prepare their champions, a problem arises. Freck - the absolute buffoon - has no idea who to pick! By the time he has the utterly genius idea to 'get someone else to solve the problem for him' the enemy champion is already separated from his rank and waiting with a bored expression. Humiliating!

Leander finally sees the face of the man who has been ensuring Freck doesn't forget to breathe all morning, and he's a bit surprised! It's Vadrian Regence, the veteran who taught their Squadron!

Vadrian stops in front of someone in the first rank, and asks them a question. Leander can't make it out, but it's clearly an offer to act as the champion for this duel. The guy's response is totally inaudible, but when Vadrian gives a calm nod and moves to the second rank, it's clear he softly refused. Well, it's hard to blame him - the whole situation is a total mess and who would want to step out right now?

Arriving at the second rank, where Leander and his Squadron mates are, Vadrian immediately trots his horse over to Leander.

"I remember you, kid. You're not half bad with the sword, and you seem ambitious. The enemy uses a spear though, so you're going to be at a major disadvantage if you fight him with a sword. I don't remember Kaban training you in the spear though, so if he makes you use one it's gonna be even worse. So, you in?"

It's not a motivating speech, but this much is obvious. Leander is decent with a saber, but a spear is a bad matchup for a sword. Also, if he's forced to use a spear, he doesn't have the training to do more than rely on his transferable skills like footwork and basic technique.

How does Leander react to the events happening around him, and does he decide to accept or refuse the chance to take part in this duel?

Finally, the call came. The Mutiny leader had taken the initiative and ordered his troops forward, and Freck (ever the lackwit) mirrored his action. It was something of a surprise when the opposing Commander then called out to Freck by his actual name - he was so used to everyone referring to the fool as Freck, that it was almost a shock to hear otherwise. Surprise turned to disappointment for Leander, as the opposing leader called for a duel instead of a mass melee. That would reduce the chances of some real scores being settled (or made) today, and more importantly reduce his chances of making a mark, something that would distinguish himself from the rest. There were enough skilled recruits ahead of him, or at least enough First Class soldiers who held rank and priority over him, so it would be interesting to see who Freck would choose.

Assuming, of course, that said fool had the wherewithal to make a sensible selection, which was never a given. Freck knew very little of the men under his command, knowing as much of them as he did of subtlety, tactics, and the physiology of dragons - which was next to nothing. And again, his thought processes were slower than the progress of glaciers, which would ultimately (in time) be his undoing. His tepid response and the resultant laughter from the Mutiny soldiers said it all: he had walked right into the trap they had set. Some poor sucker was about to take a fall, and the Denaster army would have to wear the shame of it for a long time to come. Thankfully Vadrian Regence, their veteran instructor, was here to spare Freck's blushes and surely he at least would pick out someone capable of putting up a decent show, regardless of the (near inevitable) outcome. Or so one might have thought - the one recruit deemed worthy enough among the spearman had the temerity to decline the invitation, which would do him no favors going forward, understandable though his choice (and survivial instincts) may have been. Vadrian then moved to the second row, which was slightly troubling - were none of the spearmen up to the task? Perhaps a pitched battle had been best avoided after all. Only...only Vadrian then pulled his horse up directly in front of Leander. Had this really come to pass? Was he really to be offered the role of Denaster's Champion? Well so it seemed - and at least Vadrian spoke well of him, which was a small consolation. Leander did not have to give the offer much thought.

"It would be poor form if we all turned down this opportunity, so I will accept. Fre...the Commander...has passed on the opportunity to choose weapons, so it would appear I am to be a spearman this day, over the actual spearmen." Leander's expression remained neutral even as his words cut both to the facts and to the lack of heart (and ability) around him. Talking any longer would only invite jeers from the opposition. "Let's get to it."

With that Leander stepped forward, then strode through the front rank and without a word grabbed the spear from the recruit who had refused the challenge. He would hardly admit to being ready for this, but he would not falter, and he would at least show that Denaster would not be so easily cowed.

Vadrian Regence becomes a bit stiff at Leander's harsh words, but he doesn't reprimand him. Honestly, whatever frustrations Leander has with Freck, Vadrian probably had even more as someone who actually has to resolve the problems he causes.

Vadrian nods with approval at Leander's bold moves.

---

Soon, Leander is facing off against the enemy spearman at about 10 meters distance. The fellow carries a high-quality bronze spear, and wears minimal armor. His helmet doesn't hide his face, which even Leander has to admit is handsome - though perhaps not as much as his own.

The Mutiny Champion has a smug smile as he watches the enemy army. But, when Leander approaches his brows furrow slightly, he calls out right away,

"You. You're not a spearman, are you?" his voice is calm and smooth, though carrying a bit of concern.

The man leans forward and lowers his voice (he doesn't move closer, though), so that only Leander can hear him. "If you're trained in another weapon, I can let you use it. If you use a sword, you'll be at a disadvantage either way, but you'll be able to put on a better show if you have a weapon you can use properly."

The champion's voice is not really condescending, and he actually has a friendly look on, even offering Leander a humorous wink. Whether Leander takes kindly to it or not is another matter, but the man doesn't seem to intend to offend or belittle him directly.

A bit unexpected, all things considered.

Perhaps confused by his offer, Leander recalls that since Freck - the damn idiot - had handed over the right to choose weapons, the enemy champion (or rather, the enemy commander) actually gets to pick both weapons. Obviously, Mutiny has already chosen a spear. A huge advantage, considering the man opposite him seems totally at ease with one in his hands.

However, nobody has stated Leander must match a spear with a spear. Normally, it would be a huge loss of face to make him use a sword, since the enemy has a longer-range weapon - but if Leander himself requests a saber, then the enemy commander can say yes or no. The enemy champion seems to be offering him the chance to use a saber rather than a spear, if he desires.

If Leander accepts this, he is given a fine quality sabre without any tricks. Otherwise, he uses the spear he had stolen borrowed.

(OOC: I recommend going with a saber. As you can tell, Leander has like a 5% chance to win here either way. But, if he takes a saber you can show off a bit - assuming he has training and skill. With a spear, you're going to be average at best and clumsy at worst.)

---

Eventually, after some more boasting from both sides - which the Mutiny side dominates. Freck barely manages to make any verbal rebukes, and the ones he does are pathetic and weak.

The enemy champion has a smug smirk on his face and even rolls his eyes at Freck! You kind of wish you could do the same, and maybe you can with your back facing the Denaster army.

Regardless, the enemy champion doesn't belittle you, and he has a serious expression when the fight is about to start and he faces you.
Great, he's not even underestimating you. This is going to be a beatdown.

---

Just before the fight begins, each group is given the chance to speak,

The enemy champion is allowed to speak first (as the challenger) and says loudly and humbly, "I merely wish to showcase my humble skills that I've trained thus far!"

In a softer voice only audible to you - and probably Vadrian and the Mutiny commander (Freck is still cowering in the backline) - he whispers to you, saying, "I won't kill or maim you, so I hope you show me the same grace" he has a smile on his face - it's clear he doesn't think Leander will be able to injure him severely. Well, at least the enemy recognizes this for what it is - a show. Also, he's not a psychopath or bloodthirsty, so he's not looking to get a kill. Honestly, Leander's instincts tell him the guy is requesting the same treatment not because he really needs it but because he doesn't want Leander to feel like he's been done a favor, even if this is what this is.

Leander has a chance to make a brief statement.

As the Centurion blows his horn again, the fight begins!

In an instant, the enemy champion - at a distance of 10 meters - has his guard up. He holds his spear in the midpoint, giving him lots of flexibility to change his stance. Though his range is shorter than if he held the spear far from his body, the guy has clearly calculated the distance a saber could reach (if Leander is wielding a spear as well, the stance is the same, but for different reasons).

The enemy champion's legs are spread wide apart, but he is leaning slightly forward. He waits a moment, giving you a chance to charge in first. However, it's clear from the movement of his muscles that if you don't charge first, he will do so!

OOC: This is actually the first time we've had a highly intricate combat scene! So, here's how we are going to run this:

 - We each will make very short posts (3 paragraphs at most, preferrably 1 or 2). I won't take long to respond to whatever you post, to make sure this doesn't drag on for IRL weeks. You don't have to post more often than you already are, but it's encouraged for your own sake if it's possible.

 - Your post will be written as 'attempts' since I will still adjudicate here. You can respond to attacks and/or make your own, but don't try and do too many things. You can write in as much detail as you like. Consider things like 'foot positioning', 'weapon handling' and such.

 - My posts will be adjudications. Basically, I will say the outcome of your attacks and responses. As in, "your counter succeeds in pushing away his spear" or "your attacks is blocked with a large sweep". My posts will have something to respond to, normally an attack attempt.

 - TOTALLY OPTIONAL --> It might be frustrating for you to not be able to interrupt the enemy actions midsequence. So, I'm giving you the option - if you anticipate a certain move, you can include a preparation for it in your post. Something like "Leander warily watches his spear point, preparing to deflect upwards if a stab comes his way".

 - Hopefully this works well. It's a formula I will probably need to refine - but I definitely plan on this game having some intricate fight scenes. They move slower, but they show off a character's power better than "he attacks directly with a fireball and you explode" or "I cut forward with sword aura and destroy ten yards in a crescent shape". Not all combat will be like this, but direct duels will be since every small choice matters a lot.

OOC: Let's settle on somewhere in-between, like 21? An experienced thief by 20, nine months in training, should be about right.

The Mutiny champion did not appear that much different to Leander - a handsome soul, intelligent, able. This would be at best an even contest, though the champion's spear undoubtedly gave him the advantage, a fact he recognised all-too quickly.

"No, I am no spearman, but 'twas I who answered the call."

He let that statement speak for itself. At the fellow's next statement Leander could only nod in recognition of the truth of it, and smile at his opponent's good humor and grace. The confidence of one sure in his own ability, certainly a feeling he could recognise in himself at times. So he would pass on the spear, a weapon he previously had considered only for those who were poor swordsmen, though this fellow might well prove how unwise those thoughts were.

"I prefer the saber myself. If you have one for me, I will employ that, by your good grace."

Almost immediately a saber was brought to Leander, and he accepted then examined it - finely weighted, well forged, almost as good as his own. It was certainly enough for him to demonstrate his skills. Which gave him pause for thought - normally he would have performed a series of slashing cuts and flicks through the air to demonstrate his skill and prowess, but rather than give his opponent any insight he merely held it up in his hand then lowered the blade so it pointed toward his opponent, a manouver neither offensive or defensive, merely showing he was ready for the challenge.

But the boasts and catcalls were still ongoing, and as always Freck's attempts at a riposte were pitiful, the fact of which the Mutiny champion was only too aware. Tempting as it was too acknowledge the eyeroll Leander instead remained unmoved, his face emotionless, his focus given to the matter at hand.  He knew the odds were against him, especially against an experienced foe, but he did have some advantages - his saber was faster, and the spear was mainly a defensive weapon: one only had to stay out of its reach, either by dexterity or batting it away with one's blade, or one could close the gap and get inside that reach, inside that pointed blade, where its length would prove its folly, and the smaller, faster weapon could cause mayhem.

Easier said than done, naturally. Leander followed the Mutiny champion's statement to the letter, and with the same sentiments, calling loudly and humbly.

"I merely wish to showcase my humble skills that I've trained thus far!"

His opponent recognised this 'contest' for what it was, a show, though again he had the grace (or sense) to offer that neither would be killed or injured this day. Leander had not doubted for one moment that he would survive this contest, so it was curious to be measured in those terms - was that cockiness on the part of his foe, if even a little? He smiled inwardly, if not outwardly.

"I hope so, too."

It was a statement entirely without malice, though one open to interpretation if one really wanted to go that way, and Leander's expression gave nothing away other than that he meant what he had just said. But then the horn sounded, and the fight was on! The Mutiny champion was immediately on guard, as one would expect, his spear at a controlled length but still with much more length than a saber could offer. Charging an opponent who held a spear was an invitation to a quick end, and Leander had no intention of doing so. What he could do was step toward him quickly, feinting this way and that, and using his saber to do no more than slap away the point of the spear, then duck back out of range. These sort of actions he can perform all day long, endurance was not an issue, especially with so little effort put into his 'attacks.' It was all about wearing down one's opponent until there was an opening, or a mistake, or an overreach, or a temporary loss of balance. Patience was the key, and having the quickness to act when the moment came.
This message was last edited by the player at 14:02, Tue 16 Apr.

OOC: Wow, that's awesome! You probably have more experience than me, then! I look forward to a good match of fictional combat :bows low: (LOL)

As Leander offers a neutral stance - giving no hint of his intentions, the opponent seems to recognize it for what it is, but his face quickly goes as blank as Leander's. Clearly, he is no more intent on giving away his thoughts than Leander is.

After Leander runs forward to offer a light slap to the spearpoint, the opponent does not counterattack in response, he swiftly rotates his spearpoint to get it back in an ideal position and takes a half-step on his back foot.

After Leander flits away, the spearman watches his feet carefully, clearly studying his footwork. Leander is indeed very light on his feet.
The man's eyes return to taking in Leander's whole form, including his weapon. Clearly, the man is as aware as Leander that hyperfocusing in combat is a good way to get stabbed.

This exchange repeats similarly again. The spearman has taken a full step back, with his rear foot.

But, as Leander issues a third little slap to the speartip, the man does something totally different this time.
He still rotates his spearpoint, but he uses the momentum stored on his back foot to surge forward a little bit and also slightly extend his reach by leaning forward with his upper body.

The attack is aimed at one of Leander's shoulder. The one not holding the dagger.
Leander was wary of this sort of thing, so he can dodge back or to the side. He would have a harder time blocking.
Leander can't counter this counterattack because the opponent carefully calculated the angle so that attempting to side step and enter the spear range is not possible.

Still, despite being exposed to a rather measured and clever counterattack, Leander did learn something by those three test attacks. He has noticed the opponent easily reading his feints, despite not staring at his weapon closely. After a moment of thought, Leander realizes the man is using his excellent peripheral vision to see the entire scene in front of him. He won't be able to steal his attention with flashy moves, and unless he can escape his field of view (almost impossible without getting behind him, because of the reach difference) the man has the focus and reaction speed to respond to feints and sudden movements.

How will Leander react to the light attack aimed at his unarmed shoulder? It probably won't deal much damage, given he has armor there - but letting the man make contact seems like a poor idea.

OOC: This is a bit longer than what I'll probably write next. I went a bit longer because you mentioned making some probing attacks to start with

Oh, he was good! This fellow was good! The Mutiny champion has spoken well and with confidence, and if there had been any doubt previously on Leander's part it was now removed completely. But Leander rarely took anything for granted, and he never underestimated opponents - bitter experience in his youth had taught him that, and even in mock combat (if there truly was such a thing) one dared not give an inch. The spearman saw off his initial forays with practiced ease, noting that they were merely a show, a distraction, feints that were intended to scout the opponent and observe how they responded. And in an instant the fellow responded with a probing attack of his own, though one brought with a suddenness and a surety that would have surprised (and perhaps caught) someone less capable.

This time there was no opportunity to slap the bronze spear with the flat of his blade, the spear point came at him too quick for that, so Leander merely bent backwards and away at the waist, his sword coming up to protect himself in case that spear had a sharp edge that might slice him as it was withdrawn. It was a dextrous, lightning-quick defensive reaction, but it left no opportunity to follow-in behind the retreating spear. Leander straightened and immediately nodded to his foe in respect of both his manouver and his skill, the circled around to his right, probing for any deficienceies but expecting none.

Other than slapping at the end of the spear any time it came close or dodging out of the way, there was little Leander could do - his opponent was too good, his advantage in reach too great. It would take something drastic for him to have any chance of success. So for now, he continued to feint and slap and dodge.

OOC: This is about all I can do against a spear. A saber is around 3ft long or slightly less, a dagger anything from 1-2ft long, a spear anything from 4-6ft. Against a skilled opponent there's little one can do solo - you rely on outnumbering them, or using missile weapons. At some point Leander will surprise his foe by throwing his blade at him and immediately following-in behind, using that distraction to get inside the point and grab the shaft of the spear, at which point it becomes an issue of strength, or who can reach the thrown saber first (assuming it is close enough). Do we end up with a spearman holding a saber, and a saber-wielder holding a spear?!?

I thought I'd show my intentions now, because this is the sort of fight that will carry on like this opening exchange until something drastic happens - a thrown blade, a slip, a meteor shower, etc.

OOC: Hard agree. It's basically a scripted loss, barring some Deus Ex Machina. It's just meant to give Leander a chance to prove himself, even though he can't really win. I'll skip forward a bit here, since it's all song and dance ATM

Leander's extremely dextrous evasive maneuver causes the enemy's eyes to widen just slightly. A sharp whistle comes from the Mutiny Commander, clearly impressed.

Leander manages to back off from the point without slipping a spinal disc.

The probing attacks continue both ways for a while longer. The enemy champion is given a chance to show off his incredible spear skills as even Leander's probing attacks sometimes provoke intricate counterattacks. Leander, the dark horse that he currently is, is also given ample opportunities to show off his dueling skills. The enemy champion is not being heavily aggressive, likely intending to give Leander these chances, though after a while he begins to push a bit harder, clearly wanting to see just how much Leander can twist and bend to avoid attacks without falling down.

So far, Leander has met every challenge. However, he quickly realizes he is reaching his limit, as the moves become more layered, more complex to completely avoid. Indeed, the enemy champion realizes it too.

As they both step back, Leander is not exhausted - but if this doesn't end soon he will start panting and sweating, not good for his form.
The enemy champion has a lot less strain than Leander. It's obvious, since he has mostly held his position and not been forced to make extraneous movements like Leander has.

They both look at each other and a glint of understanding passes between their eyes. The man steps back slightly, indicating Leander has a chance to show one final move, before the enemy finishes this.

Leander's thoughts race, considering how he could miraculously eke out a victory. Overall, it doesn't seem possible.

Unless he does something really unorthodox.
Leander decides to throw his sabre and grab the spear - flipping the standards of the duel on its head.
How exactly will Leander execute this move, that even his opponent might not expect?

OOC: Giving you the chance to describe this bit yourself. Depending on how you exactly do this, you have the best chance of victory. It's still low but a lot better than fighting this guy while he has a spear.

Keep in mind, there might be some pushback from the Commanders if they think you are going against the spirit of the duel.
The biggest danger here is if your maneuver fails badly. It would be a weak end to an otherwise really impressive show. If your maneuver fails but is executed well, it would only increase the overall impression of your efforts.

Feel free to get creative. My reply to this next post of yours will end the duel in whatever way the cookie crumbles :-D

This was a lot of fun!

It was a fair contest, or at least as fair as the Mutiny spearman allowed it to be. It was hot, it was hopeless...Leander knew that ultimately the spear would win out over his saber, unless...unless he did something utterly insane. The words of his first drill instructor yet rang in hs ears as he circled around his opponent on the dry earth.

"Show me a soldier without his weapon, and I'll show you a dead body. Never be without your weapon: it is an extension of your body, the vessel of your very existence."

Yet, what did he have to lose? The spearman had already promised not to shed blood, and Leander had (more or less) agreed (which was just as well, seeing how this 'duel' had gone). The moment of reckoning was surely at hand, yet Leander showed no emotion or reaction. Instead, he lifted his saber from the guard position in front of him to the attack position above his head as he had done many times before, the end of the blade never deviating from his foe. But instead of bringing the saber forward in a lightning flash against the spear shaft - he threw it!! No sooner did it leave his hand, heading directly for the spearman's helmeted head, than Leander took three quick steps forward - just enough to get inside that spear point, just enough for him to grab the shaft with both hands and wrestle for all he was worth!

Who would buckle first, or would it even get that far?
This message was last edited by the player at 14:02, Tue 16 Apr.

The following sequence of events happens in a flash!

In a shocking move, Leander releases his weapon, throwing his saber at the enemy champion's head!

The man's eyes open wide and he hesitates for just a moment, long enough for Leander to grab his spear shaft and tightly plant his feet!

However, the enemy champion shows his prowess - quickly recovering just before the sword reaches him and he shifts his neck over, dodging with minimal movement as the sword soars, flipping past his head and neck!

Gasps ring out from all around, but the two dueling men are extremely focused at the moment to pay it any mind! The enemy champion still has both hands on his spear, but Leander has a slightly better stance!

Leander tries to pull at the spear, but the enemy champion instictively responds, pulling with his equal body strength in the opposite direction!
The spear strains invisibly under the opposite forces.

The two men quickly find they are of equal physical strength. Leander - for a moment - matches the opponent for the first time in their duel!

Unfortunately, there is not always a surprise upset. In fact, the underdog normally loses. It's actually just tautology.

So, even though the two are in a state of equivalence for a moment, the enemy champion shows his superior spearmanship.
In a move that Leander can not quite follow before its over, the enemy champion takes advantage of Leander's higher levels of exhaustion, as well as the fact Leander actually has a slightly better stance.

The man loosens pressure just slightly, allowing Leander to pull the spear in closer. Along with that momentum, he does two things:
 - He takes a step forward with his front foot, entering a stable stance.
 - With the slight momentum of that directional movement, he performs a motion similar to a scoop (the kind you'd see done with a shovel)

Perhaps because the man has the proper end of the spear in his grip, or maybe because he knows this particular weapon's weight very well, Leander is surprised when - almost like a lever or fulcrum (OOC: don't know if this is the right mechanism for this analogy) - he is brought up and off his feet!

Now in the air, Leander could try and do some sort of maneuver to best his opponent, but the enemy champion is faster this time - because Leander has been slightly tired by his far higher levels of activity. The opponent manages to burst forward like a python who had coiled this whole fight, saving his energy to explode later.

With a roar of effort - the first sound the opponent has made - Leander himself being driven backwards for a moment that seems to stretch a long time, before the enemy champion's legs buckle and his muscles tense as he jumps slightly and raises his straining arms-

-

Leander opens his eyes. He blacked out for a moment. The first thing he notices is his back is extremely sore, and there is sand in his hair.

He realizes quickly what happened. He's been slammed into the ground. Fortunately, he's not paralyzed, just incredibly winded.

A cold sensation touches his neck. He opens his eyes, which are a bit fuzzy but clear up right away. No concussion, either. Good news.

He sees the source. The enemy champion, panting heavily from the burst of exertion is smiling brightly as he stares down at Leander, spearpoint to his neck - and in a grip out of Leander's grasp - just in case he still has energy to try something.

The enemy champion asks brightly, "That was a good fight. Do you concede?"

If Leander accepts defeat, the enemy champion will offer him his hand to help him stand.

OOC: This was a lot of words but it was actually a single movement: The enemy basically picked you up and then slammed you down, while charging forward. An impressive feat that is only possible because he used every ounce of momentum he could. He wouldn't have been able to lift your body weight with you resisting otherwise.

It's also a very clean way of ending the fight, by using blunt trauma rather than the actual spear.

I'll let you describe how Leander handles the aftermath of this fight. The rest of the battle (if any) and the response to Leander's deeds will be the focus of my next post.

We are officially out of combat, so you can write more freely :3

Leander had been quick, very quick - unfortunately, his opponent had reacted just as quickly, and being better versed in the art of the spear quickly turned the situation to his advantage. Leander sought to change his stance, adjust his feet to this unexpected new charge but the ground slid past beneath him, and-

Blackness.

Whether he was first aware of the all-consuming blackness or of his lungs suddenly sucking air in great gulps, Leander was not sure. What he was sure of was that he was looking up at the sky, when he had not been previously. There was a moment of confusion before he registered that he was lying on his back, on the ground, his hair in the sand, something cold against his neck. Then the face of the spearman came into focus, and his gaze moved down from that face to the hands that held the shaft of the spear, the spear which was...at his neck. Well, that escalated quickly, he thought. He managed a small smile.

"Not like I have much choice, is it? A good fight indeed - I do concede."

The fight over, Leander's only move was to raise his right arm from the ground and hold his palm open for the spearman to help him up. He had lost, but lost with honor, and was not about to do anything to sully that station. When the spearman helped him up Leander kept his grip on the fellow's hand, and shook it.

"Well played. You held every advantage and yet you fought fairly and with honor, and I thank you most humbly for that. What is your name, if I may ask?"

After helping up Leander, the enemy champion introduces himself, "My name is Astagorius Homark, and it has indeed been a good fight."

With that, the opening duel to the 'mock' battle ends. Leander and Astagorius both quickly return to their respective sides with their original weapons.

As he walks back, Leander notices quite a number of looks of admiration, respect and even nervousness on the faces of his fellow trainees soon-to-be recruits. Vadrian has a proud look on his face and nods to Leander as he returns. However, he quickly turns away, restraining Freck who can be seen throwing a fit.

Leander overhears Freck complaining about his loss, but it seems Vadrian is stopping him from going directly to Leander to say anything to his face.

Jasper Cerus is making a few light jokes that cannot be heard from the distance. His troops seem to laugh lightheartedly, evidently invigorated in morale by their side's initial victory.

After a couple minutes, a fellow trainee approaches Leander, and says to him,

"Mentor Vadrian sent me to inform you that you are free to sit out any upcoming battles, if you feel you need rest." the unimportant messenger quickly bows out and returns to his post in the front line.

---

A dozen minutes pass before Freck and Jasper Cerus have determined their next course of action. It has been decided that skirmishes will be taking place. That is, both sides will advance in lines on each other and attempt to have their men break through the other's formation.

This is the most dangerous type of encounter to happen today. Duels are usually bloodless, but if a few trainees get severe injuries or even die in this sort of mock battle, it's just considered bad luck. It's possible nobody gets seriously injured, but there is definitely going to be blood.

The Centurion's will be the one to oversee the contest. He will blow his horn to signal the end of combat, whenever he determines one side to have broken through exceptionally.

Breaking through quickly and breaking through in numbers are both valued in this skirmish. Soldiers who break through must leave the battlefield, as they are no longer part of the examination. They don't rejoin their sides or strike the enemy from behind.

---

The 88th, and 103rd through 105th Denaster Eagle Squadrons are currently deployed under Denaster. The 88th and 103rd make up the front line and the 104th and 105th make up the back line. Each line is exactly 16 men, for a total of 32.

Jasper's Company is comprised of a slightly greater number, with 36 men. Their formation is different, with three lines and a split between the left and right wings, creating six rows of six men. There is a slight (intentional) gap in between the right and left wings, and the three lines are more densely packed than Denaster's two.

Astagorius seems to have decided to continue his participation. Unsurprising, considering his skill, value and lack of injury or exhaustion. He seems refreshed after just the short rest he took. He is front and center in the left wing, clearly taking point. It's clear those near him look up to him and that whole wing probably revolves around him to some extent.

---

Denaster's front line is armed with spears, and the backline with shields and sabres.

Mutiny's left wing is a mix of shields and hand-axes, as well as Astagorius who is still wielding a spear (plus a forearm buckler, this time). The right wing of Mutiny have longswords (twin edge compared to the sole edge of sabres).

---

If Leander decides to participate, he will be in the back row with his sabre (and a shield prepared for him)

If Leander decides not to participate, he will be staying back with Vadrian (Freck has separated from Vadrian in order to actually command his own company for once)

OOC: Regardless of your decision, feel free to narrate the beginning of the encounter. We're not doing intense combat here, so if you decide to participate we'll basically take turns describing the movements of the opposing forces. If you decide not to participate, I'll just finish this up quickly and we can move on with the story in general (though I'll probably include some more interaction with Vadrian since he's a somewhat interesting character that may come back up later in the story).

"Then well met, Astagorius Homark. I am Leander. If our paths cross again, I will remember this moment, and remember you well."

With that he nodded and moved back to his own lines, retrieving his saber as he went and brushing the dust from his uniform and equipment. Although the wind had been knocked out of him, Leander had recovered quickly, his body fresh with the exhiliration of the contest. He walked with long, easy strides, his gaze directed at his fellow Denaster recruits - the ones who had not answered the call. There was respect there, admiration even, and for those more callow looks bordering on terror, as they doubted they were truly cut out for this soldiering lark. Vadrian's nodding was answered with a single inclination of Leander's head, before he looked away as Freck went apoplectic - Leander almost wished for a confrontation, so that he had an excuse to run the idiot through, whatever the consequences. But that could wait.

Another recruit approached with a message from Vadrian, and Leander nodded in thanks as he considered his options. Sit it out? Those born to lead never flinch from the fray. With Freck in charge, there was every chance that the battle would end horribly for Denaster, but Leander would have none of it. Checking his helmet and armor straps were tight and secure, he held his position in line and waited for the skirmish to being. Although, that did not stop him from examining the enemy, and quickly arriving at a few conclusions - thoughts he quickly shared among his fellows.

"The center of their lines is a death zone. Lets move forward in a straight line as if we mean to march into their trap, then have the spearmen pivot to take on the swordsmen on their left. When those on their right move to help their left, our second lines will attack the exposed flank of that second group, and the hunter will become the hunted. Pass it on, and ignore anything Freck says."

His influence among the soldiers palpable as a result of his 'heroic loss', Leander wasted no time in taking advantage of it - it was clear he knew what he was doing, and not one of his fellows believed that of Freck. It would also be easy to explain away their tactics as simply a 'result of the heat of battle', or somesuch. Combat was never an ordered affair.

A horn sounded, and the skirmish was on! The two sides moved toward each other, Denaster seemingly unconcerned by the obvious Mutiny trap - but when they were no more than thirty steps apart, Denaster suddenly pivoted, and its entire front line charged the swordsmen on the Mutiny left, their spears a clear advantage!

How would Mutiny react?
This message was last edited by the player at 10:36, Thu 02 May.

OOC: You might have mixed the directions up there. I think you intended to go for the longsword wielders, right? Since the spears would be advantageous against them? I went forward with that in mind, which means the Denaster front line attacking the Mutiny right wing

While some nervousness comes about at Leander's words, he already has more respect from his fellow trainees than their commander does... However, many still seem hesitant to directly disobey the commander, perhaps fearing later reprisal.

Regardless, the battle initiates, and Leander's instructions have been spread quietly, from one man's shoulder to the next, with a whisper in one ear, and to the other... Hopefully things didn't get too distorted.

Unaware of being undermined, Freck is flop sweating as he nervously tries to think of a battle plan to begin with...

"... f-Forward!" Freck only stutters a little. How brave.

As the army marches forward at his command, he seems very pleased, then as the two near, he gives his first command - whcih is arguably good, arguably bad. Either way, it's probably not his own.

Gaining confidence, Freck shouts "Split down the middle into two groups! Each of you take on a half" as he waves his hand over the people, smiling brightly - clearly entertained as if he is playing a war game. Well, he probably is from his perspective. He definitely doesn't take his men's lives seriously. He won't make it far.

Mutters move along the people at Freck's call, but they - and this is rather surprising - actually drag their feet and continue on with Leander's plan. Jasper Cerus sees this with a sharp glint in his eye, and gives a smirk. He knows something is up, but he's not saying anything.

Astagorius just seems confused at why the enemy army isn't listening to their commander. He might be a bit too straight-laced to understand it right away.

As they get in closer, Mutiny even widens the opening for them, as if preparing to swallow them.

Eventually, once they get in close, someone shouts "Now!" whoever it was, their working in Leander's favor. With the unnamed man's words, the front line quickly turn on a heel and move towards the Mutiny's right wing, who are carrying longswords. It's not a perfect surge, nor is it highly coordinated. But, it's not bad all things considered.

Right away, Astagorius responds, even before Jasper needs to speak and say "Right wing, pincer them!" as the noble spearman gives quick hand signals to certain members of his own group, giving unknown further instructions.

The enemy left wing thus goes in to protect the right wing as expected, however a problem quickly emerges. Denaster's second line is still largely trapped behind the front line. This sorts itself out somewhat, as the men instinctively crowd together to face Astagorius and his group, however it takes more than a few moments for that.

With that time it takes for Denaster's lines to sort themselves from a front-back pair to more of a left-right pair (though less perfect than the enemy who had proper time to make formation), the commands from Astagorius have come through. Now, the left wing who have shields and hand-axes have specifically organized themselves so that those exposed to the back line (now left line), while the other half have used their shields to protect Astagorius from all sides, without restricting his forward movement. A few men are left in the back of that unit with their hand-axes out, ready to rout any stragglers who break through with force or try to curve around.

Right away, Astagorius proves that he is truly unparalleled with the spear. His movements are deadly, and he easily disarms and pushes past one Denaster spearman every few seconds. He is also supported heavily, so even those who try to surround him are blocked relentlessly.

However, one man himself cannot change a war. The Denaster spearmen are still at a major advantage against the Mutiny swordsmen.

Leander himself was a part of the backline (since he has a shield and sabre), and so he is now part of the group trying to prey on (a part of) the Mutiny left wing. As he also shouts numerous commands at those around him, he saved a lot of time in changing the formation.

However, shouts and clangs of metal ring out all over the battlefield. Who knows if blood has been spilled yet. All Leander can smell is stale sweat that has been sitting under this sun for hours, and the kicked up dust, dirt and debris all around them.

The Denaster spearman who have continued to pressure the Mutiny swordsmen are trying to use their range advantage to land cheap shots. However, they are not aggressively pushing forward, since they are perhaps hesitant to separate too far from the back line (now right line) which is defending them from the side.

They weren't given any instructions on how to attack, so maybe this more methodical approach is what they default too. None of them are berserkers after all, and their training was focused on cohesion and classical movements and tactics. They don't have the experience needed to know now would be a good time to push their advantage.

Even with this though, the Mutiny right wing takes a step back, since they are trying to keep distance.

However, Jasper Cerus is displeased by this.

"Left wing! Don't you dare fall back! Deflect their spears, stand your ground!"

While none of the enemy are as good with a sabre as Leander, they are capable of holding out for a short time...
at least most of them.

A scream rings out. One man's arm has been torn by a spearpoint that he failed to block. Blood is leaking heavily and his face is twisted in pain. He's a young one, maybe 17.

Two others around him tell him to fall back and push him behind them, even though it will mean the two of them are taking on an additional weapon.
Astagorius lets out a curse, clearly weary of the swordsmen being overwhelmed. At this point, he's already disarmed four spear users by himself, and some of his shield men have been left behind, with a foot on the chest of those fallen men, keeping them out of the fight. Even then, their shields are up and hand-axes at the ready, not failing to act as a defensive wall even as they hold down the fallen.

The Denaster front line (now formed as a right wing) are a great advantage, but are also being targeted.

The Denaster back line (now formed as a left wing) is preventing everyone except Astagorius from invading the right wing. He moved too swiftly to be stopped, since the Denaster troops had to change formation in order to actually pincer.
This back line / left wing are also not particulary able to break through the Mutiny shield bearers, as the Denaster troops also have shields. Their sabres are perhaps slightly favored to the hand-axes wielded by the enemy, but as both have their shields up, it's a defensive stalemate.

Everyone is indecisive. Freck is too confused right now to make sense of things, even as Vadrian grits his teeth in frustration, clearly having his blood boil for battle as he wants to call out commands.

Leander, however, is in the midst of things. He still has the chance to shout commands, though he may not be heard over the raucus din of the clash. Leander is also a skilled saber user, but the shields of the enemy are large and tightly packed, they have few openings...

Leander has many options, he could try ramming with his own shield, he could try to command the spearmen to push forward and keep distance from Astagorius, or perhaps he would rather they split their attention and try to stop him... though that might be hard to do.

The smaller Denaster squadrons are already down four men (though they are uninjured, seemingly), while only one Mutiny soldier has been injured enough to retreat. He has left the battle fully, if anyone is still paying attention to him.

Hesitation lingers in the air. What will happen next?

OOC: Feel free to continue from here the same way as you were before. Here are some crude images of the battle so far (for visualization):
https://imgur.com/a/2bATrNp

OOC: D'oh! Yes, that was meant to read "on the left," not "on their left", and so on. And I was being mindful of that when typing, and still made a mess of it!

I'd write a post now but I'm a few beers in (been out), so it will have to wait for the morning.
This message was last edited by the player at 20:39, Fri 03 May.

The advantage was Denaster's, but the recruits seemed unsure as to how best to take it - Leander would point the way.

"Forwards! Into them while they reel! Attack that weak spot!"

There were still enough spearmen to press the attack, and that side of the Mutiny line had already taken a step back as one of their number crawled away - it was a hole that Denaster had to press. Leander urged on both the spearmen, and the fellow saber-wielders around him.

"We have the reach, we have the advantage - ATTACK!!"

There was of course the matter of Astagorius, who was almost certainly the most competent soldier here. However, he was now without four of his shieldmen, leaving just Astagorius and one other. Leander immediately called to three of his fellows in the back row, and three spearmen from the second row of that line.

"You three, and you three - with me! On him."

With that he broke away toward Astagorius and his companion, now outnumbered by more than three-to-one.

"Split up! Saber-spear-saber-spear" Surround these two and let's take them out."

Leander looked at Astagorius but said nothing, his face an expressionless mask. Now the advantage was Denaster's. Astagorius was now beseiged from all sides, and it was only a matter of time before he left a gap in his defence. Leander waited for an opening and then struck at the lone Mutiny shieldman who stood with him.

OOC: Hope that's clear, had a lot on the last few days. The diagram has me moving from the rear rank to the front, but I went with the third of your options - taking men from both rear ranks to take on Astagorius, now that he's almost alone. It's a tall task but that's the key to victory for me, take out their best man and hopefully the rest crumble.

OOC: Definitely a good move. I'm going to wrap this up.

At Leander's command, the spearmen begin pressing the attack. Some are still hesitant to follow his orders, but since Freck is silent when he's needed, they end up going with the flow and doing as their fellows are doing.

With that offensive renewed, the longsword users are rapidly pushes back. The only shieldbearer with Astagorius lets out a curse and Astagorius' expression hardens and his jaw sets.

As Leander directly picks out six men to accompany him, they fall in line with surprising obediency. As they begin to spread out around Astagorius, the enemy's best fighters gets a sharp look in his eyes. He's already been forced to stop his advance.

(by this point, cries of pain - not just exertion - begin emerging)

Just as Astagorius is about to open his mouth to say something, Jasper Cerus lets out a shout, "Astagorius, get out of there!"

Astagorius doesn't miss a beat as he begins to move. Still, Leander's six men attempt to surround him.

As the retreat is happening, a shout of victory can be heard. A spearman on Denaster's side has found a gap in the all-but fleeing longswordsmen and leaped through without injury. He is now on the enemy side. Jasper lets out a soft curse, which goes unheard over the clangor.

Leander and his men doggedly pursue Astagorius, pushing him back. They are now far into Mutiny's side of the field, but that's not a danger to them, as they have left the main battle behind...

Even with several taken from their formation, the hand-axe wielders are being held back by the saber users.

Leander is swift, but he's tied down by his six men. They can't make use of their superior numbers to chase Astagorius, who is as fast as Leander and also has only one person with him.

Still, even without striking Astagorius, he has indeed taken him out of the fight. Three-to-one odds are not something Astagorius can overcome with just one shield. The Mutiny army behind them is already breaking down.

Soon, more than a couple spearsmen have cleared the enemy wall.

However, one hand axe user has managed to slip past the saber users. That soldier had cleverly utilized a gap left behind as Leander and Astagorius moved backwards through the troops and left wakes around them.

As Astagorius is nearly backed up against Cerus himself, the Centurion calls his horn - signalling the battle's end.

Perhaps it feels too early to call, but there's no choice. Leander and co return to their group, and Astagorius walks with them - they are no longer enemies.

Astagorius looks like he wants to say something to Leander, but doesn't.

~~~

After everyone has rounded up together, the well-decorated Centurion begins to speak in a rich, deep voice.

"The victor of this mock battle is undoubtedly Denaster. In the end, they broke through with six men to Mutiny's two. Congratulations" his 'Congratulations' are directed to Freck, though they are quite hollow.

Despite himself, Leander instinctually stiffens for a moment as the Centurion looks at him through the corner of his eye. The edge of the man's gaze is striking and unreadable.

The well-decorated man then speaks, "With this, the two scheduled trials have ended. Mutiny won one, and Denaster the other. With this, all squadrons present have proven themselves in my eyes. You are all welcomed as official soldiers of the Emperor's army. Be honored for being allowed to bear this name."

With that, the man gives a heavy salute, which all the soldiers present return hastily.

Freck is red in the face and looks like he's about to explode, but he's being held down by the important man's pressure.

~~~

Leander quickly realizes through observation of the soldiers that none have died. That's good. However, one of the Mutiny longswordsmen are severely injured. He very well may die in the coming weeks.

About a dozen of Denaster's men are lightly injured, though these wounds will be treated simply.
Six mutiny soldiers sport any injuries, and all but two of them are longswordsmen. One of them is the hand axe user who broke through, and suffered a shallow cut on his inner arm. One shieldbearer's face was torn. The injury looks worse than it is, but it probably won't leave a large scar.

His fellows are making fun of him for being the only one of them to suffer injury, and he seems more ashamed than in pain.

From this, Leander has realized that all those around Astagorius were far better trained and more capable than the longswordsmen in the other unit.

Especially the shieldsmen who accompanied his push, they are very capable.

Overall, it's very surprising that Denaster beat Mutiny, given the troop quality. From the gazes of admiration looking at him, it's clear who is responsible for this victory.

Even the enemy troops are giving him looks of respect.

In that moment...

Leander hears it before he turns around. A horse is striding up to him.

A furious Freck is looking down at him.

"You newbie bastard! Who said you could take command!? I should -"

He is about to say more, but Vadrian appears quickly on his own horse and starts calming Freck down.

However, this time, It's not going well. Freck is getting more worked up and clearly wants to punish Leander - despite the fact that he actually should be praising him. His pride is clearly hurt by the fact that he failed to lead whatsoever.

Just as Freck's words to Vadrian become excessive, with him saying things like "I want him punished!" and "How dare a lowly recruit steal my command from me!" - two other figures approach.

The mounted Jasper Cerus, and Astagorius - now riding his own horse.

"Hail, Denaster General. A fine show was it not?" Leander can tell right away that Jasper is hiding just how upset he is at their loss. Astagorius gives Leander a helpless smile, whatever that means.

Freck responds with a scoff, forcibly calming down now that he's facing an equal in rank, "Bullshit. It would have been a good fight if one of my worthless soldiers hadn't taken command from me! We would've won more spectacularly"

Jasper and Astagorius's faces both fall, giving incredibly flat experssions. Freck doesn't notice, or perhaps doesn't care. He keeps ranting about how he didn't get a chance to show his skill, because his men were so badly trained.

Vadrian clenches his fists. In truth, Denaster's men were trained well enough - Vadrian was the one responsible for it after all. However, the Mutiny soldiers had simply had unreasonably good skills for being mere recruits.

Not realizing the faux pas of insulting your own lieutenant, Freck keeps making excuses for his loss - just making  himself look worse as he avoids taking any blame.

At this point, even the common soldiers nearby have dark looks. Their efforts are being ridiculed after all.

In the end, Vadrian is the one to end this painful conversation which Leander is forced to stanby and watch, since he has not been dismissed, "Enough! Sir Albas, please don't humiliate our troops any further! It is true we were defeated, but it was not a crushing, one-sided defeat. Remember your father's words, that a good leader must know when to gracefully accept losses?"

Freck is stunned for a moment at being interrupted by Vadrian, but in the end he sputters out something or another and turns his horse to leave.

Vadrian lets out a sight and gives a few words to Leander before he goes and follows Freck, "You surprised me, boy. You have exceptional skill as a leader, in my eyes. However... things are going to be difficult for you, under Freck... I must go. On the commander's behalf, you're dismissed" with that he leaves.

Clearly, Vadrian has some respect for you, thinking of you as a promising talent. However, it's true that nobody can help the fact that Freck is such a useless idiot. At least he's trying his best to look out for you, now.

Before Leander can decide whether to leave, Jasper Cerus speaks. "Hold on for a second there, soldier. I have a few things to say to you."

For a moment, it seems like he might be about to get harrassed by another senior, but in fact it turns out to be the opposite.

"Like Regence said, you have real talent. You even outmaneuvered Astagorius." it's solid praise, and also reveals that Jasper Cerus seems at least passingly familiar with Vadrian Regence.

"Your potential is going to waste in rot if you stay in Denaster, " he's clearly referring specifically to having Freck as a commander  being a terrible situation, but he can't say that so boldly, "I'd rather have you as one of my men. You should consider moving with your family to Mutiny. " Ignoring the fact that Leander has no family, he realizes that he's being poached here.

"If word reaches me, I'd accept you and give you a solid position... With chance for elevation" his words finish at that, and he turns to leave.

That last line is the best part of it honestly. Jasper clearly recognizes Leander's ambitions, and doesn't have a problem with it.

Despite his generous words, his mood is clearly bad. It might make Leander a bit hesitamt.

As Jasper leaves, Astagorius says something to Leander, remarking on his leader's current temperament "I'll apologize for Sir Cerus' shortness. He's being honest with you, so don't be worried about that. You're clearly a smart guy, so if you think about it I believe you'll realize why he's so annoyed at losing to Denaster... ah, I should go"

Astagorius seems to want to talk more, but he's forced to leave as Jasper calls for him. He gives a nod to Leander then leaves.

----

Eventually, everything is settled - and the numerous groups move away from the temporary battlefield, leaving it empty.

OOC: Sadly, this post was a lot of Leander standing around and listening to people talk to him. I apologize for that, I'm honestly kind of bored of this particular scene and wanted to move through the resolution of the trials quickly.

The main takeaways are this:

 1. Freck is pissed off.

 2. Leander has been given a tempting offer to move to Mutiny.

I went in this particular direction for two reasons: first, Freck's character turned out to be truly awful. You can think of him as the Young Master type from Xianxia (arrogant, untalented, malicious). He is in desperate need of some face slapping.

Secondly, I really enjoyed and was excited by how you played Leander here. I wanted to give you as a player a reward for that, and it also makes sense for the character to be noticed for his useful actions.

You previously described Leander as a street urchin, if I remember right, so I didn't think you would mind too much changing locations and allegiances - as a player that is. Leander (as a character) seems like a bit of a pragmatic sort, who wouldn't mind leaving behind those who don't appreciate his worth.

Where we go from here is up to you. We can go to Denaster proper (the city-state itself) and have a sort of 'downtime episode' where we get a feel for the area and for Leander's lifestyle. We could also skip all of that and just go straight to a new Mutiny thread. This would probably include a timeskip of a couple weeks or even a month.

Basically, I remember you mentioned you were interested in Leander having a higher position in the military, so this is what I came up with as an opportunity for that. I also really like some of the characters I introduced here, and I think they might make for interesting NPCs to interact with Leander.

The only downside to this all is that if you choose not to move to Mutiny, Freck is going to be giving Leander a lot of harassment. Personally, I think that would be rather unfun for both of us, so if it comes to that I'll probably do a Deus Ex Machina and have him get kicked from his position and an actually capable person will take charge.

Anyway, LMK where you want to go with the story next.

The circle closed. With their deadliest fighter taken out of the battle, Mutiny's soldiers were crumbling, their formation pocked with holes, and the retreat was well and truly underway as Denaster pushed home their advantage. A cry rang out, someone had fallen, injured, but Leander paid him no heed, his focus fully upon Astagorius. But it did not matter, for mere moments later the Centurion's horn blared across the field, signalling the end of the battle. Although the skirmish had ended sooner than expected, there was no debate as to the outcome - Denaster had won a convincing victory, and that combined with Leander's heroic defeat earlier gave his side the better of the 'even' contest. As he sheathed his saber and made to turn away to his own formation, Leander could not help but notice Astagorius walking almost alongside him - to what end? The skirmish had ended and so everyone could now relax, as they were all soldiers of the Emperor and so (technically) friends and allies, but the spearman clearly looked like he had something to dicuss. However, he let it go and Leander did not push him on the matter.

Once the two sides had resumed their formations, they listened to the Centurion declare the victor. Leander smiled and nodded to his fellows, delighted as they all were with the outcome. His smile almost froze on his face however, as the Centurion quite clearly looked his way, though whatever he thought remained a mystery. Had he overstepped his mark, or caught the Centurion's eye for better reasons? Leander's own concerns were drowned out in cheers as all present were declared official soldiers of the army of the Emperor! After a quick salute and much cheering and back-slapping, there was opportunity to size up the opposition in the aftermath of battle - Mutiny's men had definitely come off worse, despite having a clear advantage in training and ability. On another day, Freck's abject leadership might well have seen the tables turned, and it would have been the Denaster soldiers then licking their wounds - and worse. Was that all down to Leander? He was not so sure, though...wait. All around him he could see soldiers looking his way, nodding, admiration and no little thanks in their gazes - admiration even from the Mutiny side, which surprised him no end. All he had wanted was to put up a good fight, and to try and ensure none of his fellows suffered grievously, and so-

His thoughts were suddenly interrupted, as his ears caught track of an approaching horse - and an all-too familar voice. Freck. Leander turned to his commander, his face calm and neutral in expression, as he prepared to listen to the rantings of a fool. Fortunately, Vadrian arrived in the nick of time to calm the storm - a much better man (and soldier) by far, that one. The two locked horns as Leander watched, one fool calling for bloody retribution while the other preached serenity. If Freck had dared to get down from his high horse (in both senses), Leander would have gladly run him through. But 'twas not to be, as they had unexpected guests.

Jasper Cerus had arrived, on horseback, along with...Astagorius? No ordinary spearman, then. The Mutiny commander was clearly hurt by the outcome of the contest, as one might expect, but it was the look on the face of Astagorius - again - that caught Leander's attention. Just what the heck was going on? Freck continued talking complete horse manure, but even the Mutiny men had tired of his bluster, and all Freck managed to do was lower himself in the estimation of everyone, rather than just his own side. Eventually Vadrian could take no more and called a halt to the drivel, after which Freck scurried off back to whatever cesspit he had crawled from. Vadrian, now calmed, did not follow his commander immediately, waiting a few moments to address Leander directly. His words were shocking - praise from an officer as competent and tough as Vadrian was high praise indeed. It was all Leander could do to nod his head once in acknowledgement and thanks, before saluting as he was dismissed. The warning that Freck would be even more difficult now was not lost on him, and not unexpected either, but he would deal with that as it came.

Before he could take a step though, Jasper Cerus took his turn to address Leander directly, and so he looked to the Mutiny commander. What he had to say was surprising - apparently it was a day for shocks. In fact, it was more than surprising, and Leander merely nodded as everything Cerus said hit home. That was a most generous offer, and coming from a commander reeling from an unexpected defeat even moreso - in fact, Leander rather thought that it spoke volumes of the man: honourable, generous, pragmatic. Small wonder that someone as capable as Astagorius should willingly serve under him, and the spearman now shared some of his thoughts. Leander listened carefully but said nothing, merely returning the nod of his head in response. He had much to consider.


OOC: Thanks for the kind words! The skirmish turned out like I had hoped, but could have gone either way for most of it. And standing around is fine when there's so much to work with! I'm totally with you on direction, I have enjoyed this interaction, and you have Leander bang on as a pragmatic street urchin. Staying in Denaster will be terrible with Freck around, and would eventually lead to a horrible defeat in battle (and perhaps death). There's no doubting the competency of the Mutiny soldiers, and the thought of serving with Cerus and working alongside Astagorius is far too tempting to pass up - as sorry to Regence as Leander will feel.

So, I am all for a timeskip to a new Mutiny thread! A mutiny to join Mutiny - who'd have thought!