MicahTheRogue

When the Flames Die

As Jezin took his stance, he allowed no time to give Jezin to start circling. Before Jezin could make his first feint stab, which would of suckered Jon in had he been more focused on his attack. Jon crouched down, and dived towards the ankles of Jezin, ducking under the shield. As he dived forward, Jon flipped his sword in his hand to face downwards, instead of the traditional blade facing up. Even if Jezin dodged out of the way, or high stepped out of Jon's reach of his left hand, his right hand, swinging inwards at Jezin's relatively unprotected lower thigh would more than like catch the man off guard. Jon was determined to win this fight, and was willing to go to any lengths necessary to win, except perhaps killing the man. This was a lethal match, but Jon had no intention of taking the man's life. Although, in this moment, Jon did not see Jezin as a human being. He saw the man as a shield and spear, that wished to inflict the same physical harm on him, that Jon wished to inflict on him.

When the Flames Die

Jon's blade clinked off, and the shield came rushing at his face. He also saw the tip if the spear coming directly towards his stomach. Jon had momentum on his side however, and ducked his head behind his right shoulder, as he allowed his fast pace to carry him forward, into the shield, intending to knock the man over. The shield slam definitely didn't feel good on his armored shoulder, but it wasn't going to leave much else beside a bruise. Now out of the way of the danger of the spear, Jon tried to high step his right foot in conjunction with his shoulder bash against the shield. The high step would allow him to place more force into the shield, and allow him the space to place his foot where he wanted it. In between the feet of Jezin.

When the Flames Die

Jon wasn't one for opening quips, or even goading his opponent. It was obvious the man was going for the quick finisher as he jabbed the spear towards Jon's armored shoulder. While it definitely wouldn't feel good, his leather jerkin and chainmail would be more than adequate to protect him from a thrust from the long spear. Jon preferred to simply side step the long spear, to the side that Jezin was wielding the spear. Jon quickly charged forward, take a couple steps to the side, and shoving the sword towards Jezin's side, while throwing a haymaker towards Jezin's chin. Jon had got it lucky. He was facing a man using a spear and a shield, a style not know for it's flexibility or versatility in combat, especially against a lone swordsman.

When the Flames Die

Jon Easten stood up from his seat, gripping the sheath that laid unattached to his waist next to him. He had been lent the sword by the tournament runners so that he could compete. He had only wielded a sword a few times in his life, but he was absolutely confident in his ability. As he was about to make it down to the combat area, he watched as his opponent was busy impressing the crowd. "Impressing." Jon thought, as he made his way down. "More like 'entertaining'." He stepped onto the dry dirt of the arena, sheath in hand. His opponent looked fairly well trained, and was even wearing heavier armor than Jon. As Jon stared down his opponent, he spat out to his side, and drew his sword from it's sheath, tossing the sheath to the side. The sword could be classified as a broadsword, more than anything. As Jon stood there, he was still completely confident in his ability to win this fight, not worried for a moment that he would not win against this man. The man might have a decade worth of training, but Jon had over a decade worth of determination pushing him to succeed. Jon turned to the announcer for a moment, speaking up "It's not 'Sir', it's just Jon Easten." He spoke, his voice fairly rough, as he turned his attention back to his opponent.

When the Flames Die

Jon Easten clapped slightly as the knight known as Sir Thomas won the match. He wasn't too impressed with the match. The knights fought too smart and too concerned with winning. If Thomas had been out there, he would of gone for the unhorsing on Sir Ansell. Jon Easten watched from the stands as the prepped the field for the melee. Jon secretly hoped he'd be paired up against Sir Thomas, so that he could put the knight in his proper place, although, he'd take any opponent he could get. This was Jon's first step on a road of proving himself.

When the Flames Die

Name: Jon Easten
Age: 22
Gender: Male

Race: Human

Armor and clothing: Jon Easten wears only a thin chainmail shirt, under a hardened leather, sleevless jerkin. He also wears hardened leather kneepads. Over all his armor, he wears a blue wool three buttoned cloak, that stops right above the knees.

Appearance: Jon stands at about 6'3'' and weighs 180lbs, and has cropped blond hair, with alert green eyes. Jon has a rather boyish features, with a man's face. Dimples, a boyish smile, and constant clean shaven face gives off the vibe of a young man, but the stern way his face is shaped contradicts his facial features.

Weapons: None, as Jon can not afford any.

Personality: Jon is a very driven indivdual. Everything about his life is about becoming successful. Jon is driven by a competive urge that most people of his social status never experience. When not being competive, Jon is a somewhat shy person, who will only give the most generic answers to questions.

History: Jon grew up to a potatoe farmer outside of Keilaudrin, and spent his younger years working the field day and night. Jon's mother died giving birth to him, leaving him the only son to the poor potatoe farmer. As Jon grew up, his father became sicker and sicker until he eventually passed away. Uncontent with life as a potatoe farmer, and desiring more out of his life, Jon sold the entire farm, and all his possessions, in order to buy enough equipment to start tournament crawling. The King's coronation celebration was the perfect chance for him to debut himself, having entered himself in the jousting and melee portions of the tournament.

Fire in the West (Freeroam)

Adrian was surprised to see Crom joining Soah, as Soah turned around and started his way back down the alley. Adrian was once again slightly taken back by Crom's question, "When didn't have much trouble." Adrian piped up, filing in after the two older men. He assumed they were going to the tavern, which surprised Adrian even further. He wondered what had come over Soah to force this kind of behavior. Adrian righted himself slightly, as the group kept with their walk. Adrian watched their surroundings, making sure no one was around to overhear the conversation. "How's your injuries?" Adrian asked, as he tried to adjust his eyes to see the man's injuries, and if they were still as bad as they were before.

Fire in the West (Freeroam)

Adrian laughed at Sinette's suggestion, "I think we'd both end up bruised and broken before he talked about himself to us." Adrian replied, now looking around the room. The tavern was fairly busy, probably usual for the current time of day. "I probably should go find him, though. It's been a while." Adrian said, voicing his concern. The group was suppose to meet at the tavern and come up with a game plan, but Soah had just wondered off with saying what he was doing. Adrian stood up from the table, and righted himself. "Stay here and drink. I'm going to go find Soah." Adrian commanded, as he picked up his cloak, and latched it on. Adrian made his way out of the tavern, determination on his face. The more he thought about what kind of Soah could get into, the more Adrian started to worry. While he was in complete faith the man could handle any kind of trouble he got into, he wondered how much of the town would be destroyed. Adrian opened the door of the tavern, making his way onto the dark streets. As Adrian began his search, he started where he had last seen Soah, which was heading into a alley way. As Adrian turned the corner to enter the alley, he could see Soah from here, but it looked as if he was speaking to another man. Adrian waited at the other end of the alley, in plain view, waiting for Soah to finish with who ever he was talking to.

Fire in the West (Freeroam)

Adrian fiddled with his empty cup in his hands, as he pondered Sinette's question, "Soah is a fighter. That much is for sure. He's also a very, very dangerous man. Probably the most dangerous one on the continent, right now." Adrian replied, returning his vision to the empty cup in front of him. "Everything he does, he does with some hidden reserve of anger. It powers every action he seems to take." Adrian finished, as he fiddled more with the cup. Adrian had long taken notice of Soah's seemingly infinite amount of anger. It was a nice quality to have. Anger could fuel many different type of actions, but Adrian wondered just what Soah drew off of to fuel his anger. What had him pissed off all the time? Adrian looked down into his cup, staring at the blank wooden bottom. What exactly had the man done in his life? Usually the old men, the ones who had seen the worst of the world, were the grumpy ones.

Fire in the West (Freeroam)

Adrian had made his way to one of the bigger taverns in the town, hoping that Soah would also find his way here. He sat at a table, with Sinette, looking over the room. Adrian sipped on a small cup of water, and was finally starting to relax. Everything that had happened over the course of a day ran through Adrian's head. He had come far from Aldrun, and had already made and ended friendships. Adrian took a look sip from his water, before turning and looking at Sinette, "So, why do you want to come with me and Soah, again?" Adrian asked. The girl was definitely a weird one, but the way she had wielded her huge sword convinced Adrian that she would be a huge asset to the group. Although, he had no idea if Soah actually wanted anything to do with her. Adrian finished his cup of war, and stretched himself out in the chair, trying his best to relax.