Temple of Camael — Marsilikos
The temple dedicated to Camael is as plain and austere as the province now founded in His name. Constructed of the grey granite for which Camlach is so famous, it sits easily amongst its more elegant counterparts within the Temple District. A wide, arched entrance leads into a vaulted interior, and of all the temples in Marsilikos, it is Camael's that perhaps feels the least like one. A tall statue of the companion is carved from black marble and dominates the centre of the room. A flaming sword of bronze is held uplifted in his right hand, and bowls for offerings are placed around his feet. The majority of the priests are drawn from the ranks of retired soldiers, either in their waning years or from those that are forced from the battlefield by injury. Wooden refectory-style tables flank the room to either side where those that have come to seek solace and comfort can share meals and stories of glories past.
Beyond the main auditorium lie rooms for martial training and practice, and the sound of steel upon steel often to be heard throughout through the temple as the priests and those that come to learn from them, hone their skills.
Camael's temple is open at all times, even in the late hours of night. At these times, the place may be less frequented, but even so, the large hall with the impressive statue of Camael is filled with the sound of steel clashing against steel. The ruckus comes from one of the chambers to the side, a hall not as big as the main room, but still big enough to provide space for a sparring match and an audience. The latter less so, on this night, when it is just the pair of two fighters wearing leather helmets and leather harnesses, each equipped with swords and shields. The blades have been dulled, but the two go at each other nonetheless with fierce ferocity.
Daniel makes his way into the temple of Camael with open curiosity. The large fellow moving carefully favoring his off arm as usual but seeming less self-conscious around the temple of former warriors. It seems a place more comfortable though no doubt Daniel is curious how the place might be different in the strange place that is Marsilikos that he seems to be enjoying exploring. He follows the sounds to the hall and he watches curiously. His arms folding behind his back at a parade rest watching just inside the door looking on curiosity as the two dance back and forth to the sound of blades clashing and the musical form of the fight.
There is not much to see of their faces, but Daniel may be able to note that one of the two seems already to be a bit older in years. There is a certain deliberation in the way he moves, a routine that can only be a consequence of many years of experience in the battlefield. The other seems to be younger, with the momentum in temper and movement that usually goes along with youth. When eventually, the older one prevails. Breaking through the younger fighter's guard, the older one issues a strike against the other man's abdomen, and, at the same time, brings in his shoulder to push his opponent to the ground. "Not bad," a raspy voice declares, and the older fighter studies the defeated one for a moment before he drops his sword to help the other one up.
Daniel seems to take in each movement of the two his eyes critically studying each of the mover categorizing their movements, the speed, strength and patterns. He smiles faintly noting the older man getting the best of the younger. He watches for a time and then considers, "I don't suppose you'd be willing to try someone you hadn't practiced with before." He suggests mildly and perhaps hopefully.
<FS3> Jacquet rolls Perception: Great Success. (7 6 1 8 8 5 2 8 4 2)
<FS3> Jacquet rolls Composure: Failure. (4 3 5 6 3 1 1)
The older fighter turns. And while he doesn't seem to have been startled by the sudden suggestion coming from near the doorway, he seems to freeze for just that brief moment. Giving an absent nod to the younger man he had sparred against, not even sparing him another glance as this man moves off to the side, the older fighter's dark piercing eyes seem to linger on Daniel for much longer than the other may find comfortable. "Who's asking?", he rasps, and after a moment of hesitation he moves to pick up the dulled practice blade. "M'lord," is added, perhaps a bit belatedly.
Daniel waves a hand at the m'lord, "It's mostly warriors here. But Daniel Ferraut." He says lightly as he considers the older man. He smiles politely to the younger man and then considering Jacquet for a time and he chuckles, "We can just do first touch if you want?"
The other man seems to consider the suggestion. A faint grin can be heard in his voice when he finally agrees, "Why not. Well then, Lord Daniel Ferraut. My name's Jacquet and I am a man of the city guard." Even so, something in his speech and accent sounds vaguely familiar. But that may be due to the fact that they sound Camaeline. "Will you don training armor?" His tone suggests, Daniel should. And Jacquet gestures with his sword over to where leather harnesses and training swords are lined up.
Daniel ahs at that, "A city guard? Interesting. What can you tell me of the city? I'm still new here." He offers and he nods as he goes to the training armor. Though he struggles to find pieces that fully fit and he settles for a helmet and a pair of bracers and just some padding more than the full hardened leather. "What's your story that brought you out here Jacquet?" He asks with interest as he sets into a ready position.
"Marsilikos? It's a city like any other, I s'ppose," Jacquet replies. "You should put on a leather helmet, M'lord." He turns to observe Daniel as the lord picks his pieces of armor. The city guard seems to be patient, not minding to wait, even as he sets down the blade and lets its tip rest on the ground. There is a bit of a pause at the next question, before the raspy voice answers, "It's more peaceful than other places, I s'ppose, so this is why I stayed, trying to make it an even safer place." The statement comes with a shrug of his shoulders. "No shields," he decides and tosses the shield out of the way. "Just blades. Is that fine with you, m'lord?"
Daniel takes up the helmet and then finally gets it on only partially buckled but more like laces strung together. He nods at that and he shrugs, "Well peaceful…is good for a change though I doubt it'll be good long." He nods, "Just blades seems fine it's just sparring not full training. Besides we're still new." He says and he shifts into a stance open and waiting for the first strike he nods as he moves to engage with Jacquet continuing to observe clearly interested to see if Jacquet fights as before or differently.
"Ready when you are," Jacquet tells Daniel. And then he raises the blade in salute before he brings it down, holding it almost across before him in a defensive stance. "You go first, Dan." An odd way of address, for a city guard towards a lord. Also, this phrase may rouse some memories in Lord Daniel Ferraut. He's definitely heard it before, in his youth, but not uttered in that raspy voice.
Daniel nods at that and he considers that for a time. Daniel holds his sword his whole body tensing, watching and waiting and then he's surging forward in motion bringing his blade out towards in careful flashes towards Jacquet testing and curious to see if the older man stands to receive or dodges around. Daniel's movements are measured to try and avoid leaving his own openings.
Jacquet swings his sword for Daniel's midsection, but the younger man seems to see that attack coming and evades the blow, whereas Daniel's attack hits home at the neck, but is deflected by the gorget of the leather harness. "Dan, Dan," the city guard repeats, side stepping then to come at Daniel from a different angle. "Not bad."
Daniel grunts as Jacquet dodges nimbly out of the way. He tries to return his guard but Jacquet's move takes him clear enough where the riposte can catch Daniel thankfully he's bale to twist and deflect enough of it into the leather. He lets a grunt, "Glad you made me wear it." He says with a smirk, "Again?" He says his eyes narrowing as he tries another series of attacks.
A curt nod, and then Jacquet goes at Daniel again, this time trying to take advantage of the other man's size that must slow him down a little. "Hah!" The training blade hits Daniel's left hand, but it is not severe, unable to get through the protection of the armor. Whereas Jacquet dodges the blow that Daniel aims at him.
Daniel grunts as he takes another hit on the armor. He seems riled now trying tfor an all out attack, "You really are a slippery sort." He says grinning though as he moves forward. He takes another hit to the chest shrugging it off and aiming carefully clearly willing to trade a few more tags of Jacquet's hit for a strike.
The dance continues, as they test each other, Jacquet landing another strike at Daniel's armor. "You've become quicker," the raspy voice announces, revealing a timbre that may sound more familiar. "But I wonder whether you're quick enough to dodge this."
Daniel smirks, "Only one way to find out." He offers and he chuckles, "Well you're certainly forcing me to dance. IF you wanted a dance partner though… you had just to ask. But I think we're meant to fight!" He says as he tries to lunge forward!
Jacquet smirks as well, "A fine dancer, I have to admit. But will it help you? Let's honor Camael, like we're supposed to. Enough of this dancing…" Their weapons connect, but once again, their strikes don't go through, stopped by the leather armor.
Daniel seems delighted as he strikes Jacquet finally tagging him. He strikes Jacquet on the chest taking another tag to the neck, "You really do seem to be trying to decapitate your foe… not normally the city guard style." He points out and he chuckles as his swings go heavier and faster neglecting his defense.
"In war and battle, you rarely dance," Jacquet opines, moving now at a quicker pace in his dance around Daniel, as if to fool him about his intentions. Again, both of them land hits to each other's leather armor. "It's time to decide this, don't you think?"
Daniel nods, "At least in fiery battle. In standing battle.. two armored knights might fight each other such a way but. Raids and battles north. No they are faster affairs. What about city affairs, I imagine you can't go about full armored." He says and he nods, "Let's do it, think we can do it in a single pass?" He asks grinning faintly now though sweating obviously his skin glistening.
Raids and battles up North. These words make Jacquet pause almost, but here they are. "I'm used to wearing armor, and I think I know how I can decide this," Jacquet announces, the grin in his voice fading into a tone more earnest than anything. "Take this, Dan."
Daniel smirks, "Keep this up Jac and I'll think you're trying to tickle me." He points out. "Perhaps we need to liven it up. A bet perhaps? Something the winner gets? The loser has to suffer?" He offers wryly as he chuckles, "At this point we seem to need to just do first to get past the defenses of the other." He says though clearly he's tiring from the repeated strikes.
Jacquet grunts and shakes his head. "No bet, Dan. To win should be enough." His determination shows in the way he moves, his dark eyes intently staring at Daniel while they are engaged in this bout of swordplay. "It will also be enough to honor Camael in His temple."
Daniel laughs at that grunt and he smiles sweating and he nods, "Well for CAmael I don't mind. Though we might be at this all afternoon otherwise. We seem well matched. But you've certainly tagged me more." He says though he continues searching for an opening moving carefully and searching.
Perhaps they are both on a high level of training, or maybe it is their Camaeline background. Either way, blades clashing against each other are a fine way to pay tribute and hommage to Camael, and so the delay in their bout finishing just yet can only be welcome. "Enough of this," Jacquet rasps, not even caring anymore for M'lording the lord as would be his due. "I don't have much time, as I'll be on duty later…"
Daniel is panting and letting heavy breaths come from him now clearly talking less focusing more as their back and forth begins to slow as they begin to pierce the guard and defenses of each other. "Well then let's hurry it up. We should…do it…again." He encourages as he moves quicker, then clearly trying to get a finishing blow in moving more recklessly now.
The first does not decide the bout, when both blades manage to get through armor this time. Jacquet's strike may have been harder, but they will need to continue, until one of them has landed more real strikes than the other. "We are even," the guard declares, "for now, so let's decide it…"
Daniel grunts as they both appear to be more heavily injured now as the blows begin tagging in. He does aim high catching JAcquet along the head and he smiles, "Here we go. I have you now." He says grunting clearly accepting that Jacquet is good enough to hit the larger young man but willing to trade the hits against the older man trying to catch him and lay him out with his whole focus and concentration on the matter.
"One more," Jacquet rasps, and Daniel may be able to hear a bit of strain in his voice. "And if we haven't decided it with the next… can declare it an even match." The longer they are engaged in this fight, the more Daniel will have the feeling that this man is familiar, very familiar, even if something does not quite fit the picture.
Daniel gets the better of Jacquet for once dancing past the recklessness seeming to work out. He goes past and draws back, "A draw then?" He smiles, "It was good it…. reminds me of training with my brother growing up." He admits ruefully, "Though I'm a lot larger than then." He says thoughtfully but seeing more rueful and in his own memories than suspicious. He takes a step back seeming content to leave the matter there for the moment.
"You won," Jacquet states curtly, stepping back after their final exchange of blows has decided the bout in Daniel's favor. Turning away towards the weapon stand, he deposits the practice sword. "Training is good…. but it can't prepare you for everything you will experience in the battlefield." His voice sounds a bit odd though, the tone low and almost a mutter.
Daniel considers that and he shrugs, "We both had a good workout. You're very fast." He points out lightly and he lowers the sword, his breathing rapid and he takes his time focusing to slow and control it. "No it can't." He agrees sadly, "But it's something, at least you still never know how someone will react."
"True." Jacquet steps to the side so that Daniel can deposit his own sword, and the man of the city guard turns his face towards the archway that leads into the main room of the temple. With the leather helmet still covering most of his head, only the dark piercing look of his eyes can be glimpsed. "I thank you, m'lord, for the sparring match. It's been a… pleasure."
Daniel places his sword back in the rack and then he considers Jacquet pleasantly studying him. He seems more distracted and exhilarated to the fight than picking at things. He smiles broadly, "That it has. Perhaps I'll see you here again? Or around?" He asks brightly as he removes the rest of his garb, "Thank you for the time it's been… comfortable in this strange city."
While Daniel Ferraut is divesting himself of the leather armor, Jacquet for now seems to be comfortable to remain as he is, perhaps trapped in some train of thought of his own. When the lord addresses the guard, he turns his head just a little in his direction, even if not fully. "Who knows? I belong to the city, so it's likely we'll meet again." His voice is back to that raspy quality, Camaeline accent lingering definitely. "My lord. Be well. And have a good night." It must be already past midnight, after all.
Daniel inclines his head, "Take care. Have a good one, Jacquet." He says brightly and sounds utterly pleasant. A generally good natured sort. "I'll hopefully see you around, and hopefully not in the process of your work." He says with a grin and then he pauses, "Was a pleasure."
Jacquet leaves Daniel's remark uncommented, inclining his head to him once again as he slowly, very slowly starts to fidget with his leather armor. He will wait though, until the lord is heading out of the sparring chamber, before he divests himself of said armor. The helmet will be the last to go. When eyes, dark and piercing stare towards the exit, even long after the Ferraut has vanished from his view.