Author Topic: [CRP] Going East Med  (Read 633 times)

Jacob Van Teylingen

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[CRP] Going East Med
« on: 03 June, 2017, 12:51:02 AM »
Jacob sat at his desk in his residence in Brugge. His squire had brought him two scrolls. The first one was from his former captain and brother in arms, Alain d’Arcy, who wrote about his new life in Jerusalem. The second scroll was an invitation to a tournament in Cairo. While reading the first scroll, Jacob was already thinking about visiting Alain one day. He had never been in that part of the world and visiting an old friend would give him a reason to do so. When he read the invitation for the tournament a smile appeared on his face: “Well, well. I guess I’m going to the East Mediterranean sooner than I thought”.

That same afternoon Jacob started to make arrangements. Despite being a veteran soldier,  battle hardened on many European battlefields, he was excited like a little child. This would be his first tournament ever and after weeks of training he felt he was in great shape. He glanced at his dented armor in the corner of the room. Maybe he should get some new gear. The dented armor would suffice on the battlefield, but on a tournament he should wear something more presentable.
« Last Edit: 03 June, 2017, 12:53:51 AM by Jacob Van Teylingen »


Jacob Van Teylingen

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Re: [CRP] Going East Med
« Reply #1 on: 09 June, 2017, 11:00:37 PM »
Jacob lay in bed, staring at the white painted ceiling of his temporary room. His squire already had brought his brand new armor into the inn. It was standing in the corner, patiently waiting for action, the sunset through the window giving it a beautiful red glow. They arrived this evening in Cairo and Jacob was grateful being on solid ground again. Sailing was just not on his list of favorite things to do.

Jacob had sailed together with the two other contestants from Flanders; Lady Esmee van Damme and Tebaldo Colleoni. Both would fight in another league, so he was sure he didn’t have to fight either of them.
Tebaldo was the drillmaster at the academy in Brugge. Jacob trained a lot with him since he first joined the Flanders army years ago. Now Jacob was a drillmaster of his own in Muenster. So this would be a kind of competition between the two academy’s.
Lady Esmee was his vassal who he respected a lot. Fought many battles by her side together with her husband Alain d’Arcy... well, former husband? Jacob shook his head. He was confused. It was some time ago Alain left Flanders to begin a new life. And he understood that new life didn’t include Lady Esmee. But he never dared to talk about that, not even during the long journey to Cairo.

Suddenly his squire stormed into the room. Jacob jumped from the bed, almost crashing his head into the ceiling. “CAN YOU NOT KNOCK FIRST!?” Jacob screamed “I ALMOST DIED HERE!!”
“S.. s.. sorry Sir… L.. Lord.. my Lord… Lordship…M…Master“ the young man stammered.
Jacob smiled “Addressing me with Your Majesty will suffice, boy”. His squire stared at his master, not really understanding. Jacob rolled with his eyes “That was a joke…”. His squire smiled uncertain and handed him the scroll “Here are the rosters for the tournament".

Jacob’s eyes went through the list of names, looking for his own name.
Konstan Gallaecus from Aragona would be his first opponent. He didn’t know the man. Had no clue about his fighting skills. Maybe he should go into town and talk to people to find out what kind of fighter this Konstan was. And while he was at it, he might just as well drink a mug or two… three…
« Last Edit: 09 June, 2017, 11:04:40 PM by Jacob Van Teylingen »


Jacob Van Teylingen

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Re: [CRP] Going East Med
« Reply #2 on: 18 June, 2017, 11:06:07 PM »
Jacob lay on his back, staring at the bright blue sky. A young boy was shaking him and shouting something. He couldn’t hear him. It took him some time to remember where he was and to realize that the boy was his own squire. Jacob felt like he was hit by a horse… or better… several horses.

He now remembered what got him there. On the ground. All beaten up. It was Konstan Gallaecus, his very skilled opponent. Jacob remembered how he missed Konstan over and over again in the short engagement. Konstan had been too fast for Jacob. Or Jacob had been too slow… probably due to a few drinks too much the night before. Many strong hands lifted him up and carried him of the field. Jacob tried to lift his hand to wave at the spectators, but he couldn’t. It didn’t matter. It was game over for him anyway. Konstan was the winner and deserved the spectators cheering. He could live with that… not that he felt very alive at that moment..