The Silver Bear of Opper Calem
Prologue:
"The tougher d'Vaud" is how I introduced myself to him, as we firmly shook hands in the Golden Willow Regalian Tavern, alongside his radiant wife. What begun as a simple invitation to the Open Forum would suspiciously strike a spark, like those to light the lithe fuse found on a firework, resulting in a similar explosion of entirely unexpected events. I do not claim that I was neither the flint nor steel that set the spark, for I was, but I was not the singular stone to set the firework alight. So kindly allow me to share with you my version of events, which led to the regular duel between the Lord Consul Hengest "The Hound" Harhold and myself, Benedictus "The Silver Bear" d'Vaud.
One might query the use of this aforementioned nickname, and you may be right to do so, for it was not bestowed upon me by my own hubris. Instead, I found myself given this nickname by one Gerold the Steeljaw, whom had assisted in the development of this tale. But, I digress.
The Open Forum:
The light of candles upon the walls illuminated a room located in the Southern Wing of the Milais Palace, a recent acquisition of House d'Vaud by my cousin Hamelin, whilst the sound of the gentle piano music echoed pleasantly around the booths and tables of the setting. The aroma of rich alcohols, almond cake slices and perfume waved around the central table of this room, where members of the peerage discussed the viability of removing weapons and armour from the possessed. It was my hope that this Open forum would bring a greater stability among the peerage within the Assembly, whose recent sessions on dealing with the current crises, had left me concerned that we were too unstable among ourselves.
It was at this moment that the Hound entered and placed his soiled boots upon the debating table, a blatant disregard for common decency among myself and those gathered, much to the dismay of my cousin Czylle. I understood why he did it, as he masked such actions as merely doing as he would at home; it was a motion of power, to state that he did not much care for our views, nor our hospitality, nor our House. This invited action by my cousin, who laid hand on his boots to move them off the debating table, whilst others gathered suggested that he take a stool for his comfort. Such action roused an aggressive bark from the Hound, as he threatened to break my cousin's arm, should she place a hand there again. With no support afforded her by myself and her courted love, she promptly removed herself from the situation, a moment I have since apologised for.
With my cousin departed and the Hound reluctant to neither remove his boots from the table, nor remove himself from my home for this lack of common courtesy, I found it incumbent upon myself to see off this dishonour towards my House and Home. I briskly walked over to the Lord Consul, expressing in no uncertain terms that he was not dealing with my nominally quiet cousin anymore, requesting one last time for him to respect my House and home and remove his boots or be removed himself. The Hound merely scoffed:
"What are you going to do about it, tougher d'Vaud?"
Raising my boot upon the edge of the seat the Archduke sat in, I replied simply:
"This."
With that, I kicked the chair from under the Hound, for he was not worthy to sit upon it if he could not show common courtesy. Such action was like hitting the flint against the steel, as the Archduke landed with such a tremendous and terrible thud, raising to their feet all those assembled at the Open Forum. At this, the Hound snarled and collected himself, his ego shattered in front of all those who he required to either fear or respect him. At this he snapped the challenge for an honour duel.
I find no shame in admitting that I was reluctant to accept such call for an honour duel on spot. As any clear witness to the event may attest, or any who read this may thing, such actions that led up to this were a flimsy justification to call an honour duel. Nonetheless, the call was made and I replied with neutral expression that such was uncalled for, as he was more than welcome to stay should he only pay common courtesy. At this, the Hound howled that either I accept or be forever named a coward among the peerage, a threat I took on the chin. He was clearly serious, even if the fall had loosened his grip on his senses. It was, thus, that I answered he would receive my reply within three days. Displeased, he snapped I had a day to respond, before leaving with a small entourage of the Violet Guard.
The level of drama did not go unnoticed by the peerage, who shortly there-after left the Open Forum, bar that of Augustus Reinard. I went over the situation with him, in order to clear my own thoughts, which led me to the conclusion that the Lord Consul's call lacked any real honour. For where is the honour in dirty boots? After he left, I found myself in the company of House Black and one Gerold the Steeljaw, where my view was shifted. It was a matter of honour to answer the call and prove to the Archduke that he was dealing with "The tougher d'Vaud".
Setting the Stakes:
The night had drawn in by this point. The stars were dotted across the sky, like the few illuminations of candle-light, which had dotted the Milais Palace only an hour or so earlier. With frankness, we left with such hasty dispatch that I admit that I'd lost all thought and track of time, my mind filled with thoughts of stability. As I mentioned before, I had created the Open Forum to foster stability, to bring the peerage closer. A public honour duel would, in my mind, have quite the opposite effect. It would show that we bickered and fought among ourselves, while greater challenges like at Mt. St. Helena, were at the gates of our Most Holy City. Nonetheless, with Gerold the Steeljaw in my company, we proceeded to the Golden Willow Regalian Tavern, where we were fortunate to find the Lord Consul after he had supposedly finished dispensing justice with the Violet Guard
Upon taking the advice of my peers, that I demanded that if there would be an honour duel, there would be stakes to match. I demanded outright that if I were to succeed in the duel, the Hound would be honour-bound to resign from his seat as Consul, lest he revoke his challenge forthwith. This had the intended effect, though the Archduke feigned that he would revoke the challenge, as a sign of mercy from my motions that it was a ridiculous challenge in the first place. I will let you reflect on this and make your own empirical judgement. However, as a counter-offer, the Hound offered that we partake in a regular duel to first blood. In his words, the regular duel was 'for the fun of it'.
I accepted the duel, offering a thousand regals as a stake for my victory, whilst he offered a ring which he claimed belonged to his father. In truth, the stake did not matter to me, so I thus accepted. The grounds outside the Balfort were chosen, where we would meet on the morrow, clad in steel skin and wielding only a steel blade. In my own haste, I accepted the terms provided that neither of us may choose a champion to stand in for either of us, it would be he versus I and no other. Gerold the Steeljaw was chosen to act as referee. We shook hands on the terms in the presence of family, before retiring from the day's events.
I took my leave towards the Solaris-Mirais Estate within the Holy City, taking rest there before beginning the day anew. At this, I decided to find myself a proper suit of steel skin and a long-sword to match, before I begun practising for the upcoming duel. A swordsman of any calibre understands that swords are oft ineffective against steel skin, and as a member of the School of Siegwald I would be without my primary weapon of a pole-arm. Thus, I took a leaf from my school contemporaries and decided that my best chance would be to turn my sword into a spear, adopting a technique within my school known as half-swording. This would allow me to adjust the point of the blade with more accuracy for a stabbing at the weaker points in the Lord Consul's steel skin. The hours went quickly, until soon enough I found myself in the fighting pit against Hengest "The Hound" Harhold.
The Hound & The Silver Bear:
The wind whistled through the wood line that surrounded the arena. A gathering of the peerage and their Household guard attended the spectacle at Balfort, as Gerold the Steeljaw walked over to me, whispering into my visor. He requested that I give him a nickname for the audience to associate with me, for which I had no obvious reply, such was personally anathema to me. Holding the Long-sword with leather gloves and steel gauntlets, I gripped upon the fuller and the sword-grip, pointing the end towards my opponant. In which time, Gerold announced the duel and our supposed nicknames: Hengest "The Hound" Harhold & Benedictus "The Silver Bear" d'Vaud.
I chuckled beneath the visor.
The gravelled ground beneath us shifted with grumbles and mumbles, as we began circling each other, each taunting the other into committing to an attack. Our blades clashed on the offset, as the cold steel vibrated and echo'd down our arms, he was a strong opponent. I recall that we both had several chances to claim first blood against the other, with myself first smashing the pommel of my blade against his helmet, before attempting a stab toward his exposed right-thigh. Such attack was fruitless as he wildly reacted like a unwieldy wolf, swinging his sword against myself and launching an attack towards my... low-hanging fruit. Even though I was armoured in that region, the force of the hit still forced an uncomfortable yelp from me, before having to put a distance between us.
We exchanged words, taunting each other into another attack, whilst I had much needed time to recover from both blows. The Archduke believed he found weakness in my grips, aiming often to strike a blow against the lightly-armoured leather glove upon the fuller of my blade, whilst I believe I may use my Siegwald training to potentially stab towards an exposed armpit or covered chin. Neither of our plans clearly came to fruition, as we had spent the majority of our energy, particularly myself who attempted to keep mobile.
It was only in a final foray did we attempt to clash once more, my arms ached awfully, forcing me to swap sword hands for one daring blow against his shoulder. It was not my intention to draw blood from this attack, but to drive the Hound away, however that would not be the case. By the Spirit, my Long-sword struck with enough force to loosen the shoulder-guard, causing a cut into the Archduke's shoulder. Gerold called for the duel to cease as he examined the blow; blood trickled onto the Steeljaw's fingers, which he raised aloft.
I found myself driving my sword into the dirt, and falling on one knee, not from humility but from exhaustion. The Archduke was naturally none-too-pleased, throwing down the golden ring into the dirt, whilst I was tended to by my sister, Lena. This was a proud moment for me, a moment where the Archduke accepted I was "The tougher d'Vaud", shaking my hand in the process. In response, now laying down on the ground, I lifted my hand to return the handshake. The glimmer of gold laying beside me. Lena aided me to my feet, as I offered another invite to the Open Forum to the Archduke. It was dismissed, but not before claiming the ring was actually that of a Rich Silven, whom he claimed to have killed. Again, I will leave you to wonder if this is indeed the case.
And so I end my version of events. Against the odds, I was Victorious in a duel with the Lord Consul, and have since earned some small renown for this accomplishment in the streets and among the peerage.
My name is Benedictus d'Vaud and I am 'The Silver Bear of Opper Calem'.
