Shadow of an Empire [Open! Well, Full]

Scipia's right hand slid forwards as the swords connected. He had only a matter of seconds to deliver the dirty move, Daerus' sword was already pushing his gladius down. Some would look down on striking an elderly man in the stomach, not Scipia. The fist made contact with Daerus' stomach, but the old knight had managed to shift his body to absorb much of the blow. Still, it was enough to jar his hold on Scipia's sword. Not to the level that Scipia wanted, but enough to quickly switch his tactics. He followed through with the uppercut, letting Daerus' heavy blade push down the clash and using the momentum of the blow to stay in close range. It was becoming more of a brawl than a sword-fight. No mere coincidence given they were on a boat.

This close to Daerus, Scipia had the advantage. As the knight reeled from the blow, Scipia pushed the blades to the side. It meant leaving himself exposed, but Daerus' double-handed grip was now working to his advantage. He moved his right arm under the knight's left, by taking it in a grapple he hoped that without it and at this range the bastard sword would be unwieldy.

An opening then, for Scipia to bring up a knee. For Daerus to dodge it, he'd likely need to back up and wide. Leaving himself exposed to Scipia's gladius. Probably.

Scipia carried through with his little plan unpaused, the knee connected, Daerus' blade was shifted. Had he been armed properly Daerus would likely be dead, a dagger or rim of a shield thrust into his stomach. But this was training, much to Scipia's relief when Daerus rounded the parried blade to bring it upon Scipia.

Scipia made to block, flashing up his gladius against the sword, but Daerus slipped his own blade aside and took a step back. Scipia released his bracing breath, and followed the Knight's lead in sheathing his sword. His sword-hand stretched out to meet Daerus', the two connected and they shook. "The Elves won't expect you to fight with the steam of a young man, Old Knight. You've got that much going for you, at least. Good fight, next time maybe we should grab our shields too."

The mumble of the crew turned to a light round of applause. A singular bawdy voice, the Nord "Boooo, either keep fighting or start kissing!" from Hadimir broke the applause with laughter.

Scipia shot him a wide smile, "You next, Milk-drinker, I've got more than enough fight in me left to show you your way back to Skyrim!" The laughter rippled again. Scipia eyed the crowd, from Hadimir to the Bosmer boatswain. He soaked it all in. He loved the crowd. His eyes fell on the short statured Breton. The only one without a smile on her face. She bore her frown, and it drained the joy from his performance.

He stared on, as Hadimir came from the crowd with his mace. He said something, but Scipia couldn't quite hear him. Emily had his eyes, and he frowned quizzically, she gave him a light nod and slipped back into the crowd. Out of sight.

"Oi, sand-licker." Hadimir said, using the derogatory term for a poorly performing gladiator, poked Scipia with the end of his mace. "I said, how about you show me the edge of your blade instead of your tongue!"

Scipia put his grin back on, and stood back in a pose. Ready to fight. Their fight would go on, for a good while. Scipia going on the defensive against the mace wielding Nord. Twice almost meeting the water over the side of the ship. Eventually Scipia took a hit to the hip that left him with a limp, so he backed out of the challenge. His excuse was, as he naturally hid the limp behind bravado, that they really should go down to the brig and have some breakfast.

Emily had wandered down back into the hold, following the gurgle of her stomach to escape the sound of metal clashing, cheers clamouring and boots scraping the deck above as Scipia and Hadamir fought. It was uncouth, their duelling, when seen through her perspective. They should be focusing on the mission to come. Yet... She had been light on the details, so what else could they do except bother her for information she wouldn’t be willing to share? They were bonding. That might be good.

Daerus followed her down as she plucked an apple for a bag that had been left on the side. It crunched sweetly beneath her teeth.

“I chose the four of you.” she reminded him, her thoughts going back to the sad state of their first casualty. The paperwork.

She leaned herself against the table that bore the food, a hand indicating Daerus was free to choose from the selection of dried meats, hard breads, cheeses and fruits.

“Hadimir I chose because he’s not just a thorn in the side of the Empire, but an arrow we can point at the heart of our enemies and let loose. He’s a rebel, first and foremost. A criminal. But a summoned Daedroth is a valuable tool in a fight.”

She tapped her fingers on the table, trying to place her next words as she bit the apple. “Scipia? He’s malleable. Versatile. A wild card in a fight. He owes a debt to the Empire that can only be repaid in his blood, but the Empire owes him equally. He’s also the only person in this group - apart from Ra’jidar - to have faced the Thalmor’s agents in Annequina. He knows the lay of the land, the people and... The threat.”

“I chose you,” she continued, “because you have an extensive service history. You’ve seen things even most Legionnaires haven’t.”

She paused, taking a bite of the apple. Chewing it slowly. “And, as we both know, you’ve a vendetta against the Dominion like no other. You’re continued existence is a pain in the ass for the peace process. My superiors thought it was about time you paid us back for all the times we’ve hid your trail from the Thalmor.”

She lowered the apple, nothing but a core now really, to the table. She looked Daerus dead in the eyes, her shockingly bright green eyes bore into him. Her words stood in dark contrast. “This is not a mission the Penitus expects us to survive. I chose you three because I think you’re the best hope of getting us through this. I do not plan on dying in the sands of Annequina.”