Kingsmen and the Water Gauntlet

Vincent walked along the length of the gauntlet, studying the contraption with a low growl. This wasn't his favorite choice for training. For all that he had ever faced, he couldn't figure how water balloons, or cream, or gel, could make a man a better warrior. But Castor's creation seemed to be all the rage, and having heard it talked about more than he preferred upon the field, when Lazare had then mentioned it, Vincent had decided it was worth at  least taking a closer look. Where was Lazare anyway? Vincent shot a narrowed look to the setting sun, then one over his shoulder. The man was late.

Wings folded away as he touched down the other end of the field from the water gauntlet. Keen eyes caught sight not of Lazare but the dreaded Vincent, or more his reputation compared to the more jovial Lazare. He wasn't sure if the man noticed for his perusal of the water beast which had him chuckle.

Of course once landed, those wings folded back under the new shirt, designed for such, into the markings on his skin. Raphael had given him such a shirt until he had ones made of his own. He headed in the direction of the other, steeling his resolve to make friends for there was definitely more respect than fear. "Good evening, Sir Gabriel Vaughn at your service." Speaking as he drew near, dark eyes intense.

If Vincent felt the man's approach, he didn't look in his direction, just returned to his study. "Sir Gabriel..." Vincent replied with due respect even if he wasn't looking at him. With the title of Sir, the man had earned the respect offered. "And a great service you would be by explaining to me how this device is of any use to the training process. It appears more a way to end up battered, bruised and wet." He turned then, extending his hand to the man in a proper greeting. "Have you attempted this before?"

He had seen Vincent before but had not encountered him directly until this day. Better here socially than eating dirt in sparring. Those days were coming, numbered as they would be pitted against all four eventually to hone their talents and gifts. Peter knew of his wings and didn't seem to flinch or regard him as abnormal but then there were quite a few others with gifts these lands seemed to draw or were born here. "Aye, I have and made it as far as the last stage last time. It's a tricky devil knowing each time it will be different for the timing. Sir Lancely is good at that as well constructing such a device." Taking his hand in a good warrior's grasp before released as he answered. "I was under the impression Lazare wished to try it this time instead of sitting on the cushions with the Lady Warrior." Hard to read those dark eyes at times except perhaps a fleeting glint.

Bannon was nearby as always, Vincent's shadow when he wasn't with the other squires or tending to duties elsewhere. He had grown taller, put on more weight but still wasn't much of a talker. Seeing Gabriel, he studied the knight but would stay where he was unless Vincent called him forward. There was a hint of mischief in his eyes as he looked away from the two toward the water beast.

Vincent was not one to be able to judge any for being ... different. "Yes, it was my understanding as well. Yet, it seems our good knight has found other entertainment...how convenient for him." Likewise, de Beauvais was not one to show much emotion, if any, but he turned searching out the shadows. "Bannon, care to seek out our comrade and see what detains him?"

"No need, Bannon." Lazare called to the squire, coming around from behind the gauntlet. "I am never late, I am always where I need to be..when I need to be. Cool your heels, Dragon." He waved Bannon to stay where he was and started removing his shirt. He knew the possible results of each section, better to be free of that particular article of attire.

"Bloody fool...then it's you to the gauntlet first. Since you are always where you need to be, when you need to be." Vincent motioned with his head to the entrance and took a few steps back, crossing his chest with his arms to stand and watch.

"Perhaps any one of a few he talks with?" Not that he followed who Lazare might be interested in, hard to tell with one social as he was when Gabe was social enough but still kept a distance. Speak of the devil and there he was. He cleared his throat and set to getting the lads taking off the tarps and getting the sections going.

Lazare cleared his throat of a laugh and cut a look to Vincent. "Aye, watch well and learn, de Beauvais." Carno pulled himself up onto the contraption, stood a moment at the beginning and then shifted a shoulder in preparation.

He grinned at Lazare as he appeared then was over closer to watch. "Lady Warrior, Sir Gabriel?"

Vincent cut a look Bannon's way when he heard the lad ask after the Lady Warrior. Regardless of who she may be, whomever Lazare wished to lounge with was his own concern. He said nothing though, just returned his gaze to Lazare as the man barked out a "here goes" and started forward.

Gabriel removed his shirt and sandals in case they wanted him to run it. He was fine with either but it showed that intricate abstract seeming tattoo on his back, the line of his spine clear as the lines snaked out, a few longer ones around his shoulder to touch up the side of his neck on one side, over his collar bone on the other. There was a patch of red ones tipped in gold on either shoulder. Addressing the lad, "Mo as she goes by, Maureen by full name. Warrioress in training." Arms crossing over his chest as he took a stance near Vincent to watch Lazare.

Lazare bobbed and weaved, dipping beneath balloons and watching his footing. He slid through just as a nail nearly took one of the balloons closest to his head. He stood, at last, safe through, grinning, but knowing full well a bit of what awaited him.

He ducked his head when Vincent looked his way -- old habit that was hard to break but then he looked at Gabriel and nodded. "I've seen her practicing. Just didn't know her name, sir." He automatically took up an at-ease stance, and hit a grin. The squires had been placing bets on whether the king's men would attempt the beast.

Lazare rubbed down one arm and then the other, darting forward to maneuver through the sensitive flags. His confidence got the better of him and he smacked into a flag, but to his advantage, it was not one that triggered a cream shower. He glanced down with a grimace to the water trough below but quickly made his way through and not yet a victim to the beast's vengeance.  He looked to Vincent with a grin, stepping forward as he did.  The water sac swung so close Lazare almost lost his balance. Concentrate, Man, egging Vincent on could wait! He picked up his pace, practically dancing with the large water filled sacs and the arms that swung them about. He was almost crawling when he exited, taking hold of one of the boards for support. Castor's mind was a wicked thing to be sure!

"You are but half way there, Carno!" Vincent called, nodding slowly. He was, without admitting it, rather impressed with Lazare's progress.

This was Lazare's favorite section and he was, indeed, smiling as he started in.

He glanced at Vincent and Gabriel then watched again, moving slightly so he could see better. He was going to be a few coins richer after tonight.

Into the next section he darted, already struggling for breath. He hopped away from one geyser to avoid the next, constantly glancing up to watch for that damnable seaweed and the stench that would accompany it.  Having stepped too long on one particular spray of water, the seaweed dumped, clinging now to his head and shoulders as he slipped and slid his way to the other side. The good thing about going first, he wet the way for Vincent to follow! Reaching for a safe hold, he pulled himself through to a safe place to scrap the seaweed from his shoulders and drag it from his hair.

As Lazare made it through the next section, both of Vincent's brows shot up. He looked to Bannon. "Will you be wanting to try, Zimmer?" Fine lines creased at the corners of his eyes but he didn't smile. Having spent so much time with Vincent though, Bannon would recognize that expression.

Now that he didn't expect! He looked at the King's man then nodded slowly. "Of course, sir." Better to do it in front of them then his friends the first time!

Over a barrel, two, but then they started to roll. He had thought he wouldn't mind being doused in that gel, but as the barrels started to spew, he started slipping, and grappling for a hold, and scrambling for a foothold to fight his way through.   Lazare was not too proud to scramble on his hands and knees, and he did, as best he could, until he was safely through this portion as well. He came even more slowly to his feet though. Why had he challenged Vincent to this test? Someone...remind him!

He was impressed with Lazare's stamina as he continued to manage through the gel to the last part.

The last section now loomed before him. He surveyed his final threat, eyeing that rope, and if nothing else, hoping he could at least grab hold of that! He drew in a deep breath and shouted out a war cry - shooting forward! He started to get ahead of himself, glancing beyond the rope to the end of the gauntlet, so much so that he didn't watch his footing and soon the water shifted its course and before he even knew what was happening, he was slipping down the ramp. "Ah, hellno..." This close! Lazare's hands were wet and slippery from past sections and he attempted to grip that rope, but he felt his hands sliding off the hemp, even as he threw his body weight into the swing of  it. It was, perhaps, that he had managed to pitch the weight of his body into the swing of that rope, and even as his hands slid off, he went sailing out of the other end of the gauntlet, as if on the very breeze itself. He landed in the dirt beyond, rolling to his back to just grin up at the darkening sky. He threw a fist into the earth and rolled to his feet, bowing to none other than Vincent de Beauvais.

de Beauvais could only...stare. For the longest time, he just looked at Lazare as the man began to shift his feet about in the dust in some sort of weird victory dance. Vincent looked to the gauntlet, then back to Lazare. "Well..done." Is all he could say. For, indeed, it was...well done.

The surprise was, horns and whistles went off in a booming sound with some fireworks when he made it through all the way. Seems Lancely had added a little surprise.

He let out a laugh, eyes bright as he watched the fireworks and the dance. "He's the first to make it the whole way through."

The horns and whistles would bring Karl to the window of the castle to look out and, if he could see the gauntlet from that height, he'd see Lazare, flailing and strutting with some semblance of a demented peacock's dance.

He applauded Lazare, laughing with his dance but certainly earned for what the gauntlet put him through. "Aye, that I know of, he is the first to conquer it but then the timing will be changed again each time." This to Bannon.

Vincent rubbed at the back of his neck with the palm of his hand, tearing his gaze from the strutting, prancing man back to the gauntlet. "What say you, Gabriel? Would you wish to follow...that? Or shall I?" Vincent dropped his gaze to Bannon. He would see the boy at least attempt it, but not before the knights. With the young man's current progress in training, de Beauvais knew the position was well understood.

"I will defer the honor to you Sir Vincent, being I have been twice upon it but willing to go after you." Sweeping a hand the gauntlet's way with a touch of a wicked grin. "No time like the present."

Once more a dip of head to Gabriel and Vincent crossed to climb upon the machine. He slid his foot along the opening, this part at least would not be as slippery as the rest. Dark gaze narrowed as he eyed the balloons, the spikes, then his lips thinned. There was a time he would have told Lazare where to take his challenge and exactly where to stuff it, but, here he stood, facing a foe which had nothing to do with actual skill, but more luck. This is where he found himself. This is where he would continue. And so...it began.

Lazare slid on around to the front of the gauntlet to get a better view of de Beauvais. "You...are going down, Mighty Warrior!" He shouted to his comrade even as Vincent took that first step forward.

Vincent dipped his head and started through, only halfway when a spike pressed into a balloon, spewing water over the warrior's head. Vincent quickened his pace but that didn't save him from the trap door opening beneath him. Hold
on! He didn't know about that! He swung about, his hands wet from the water, and he grasped at the pole to keep from plummeting below.

He was holding his breath as he watched slippery wet hands trying to hold onto that pole.

Out for a walk - he'd eaten far too much at dinner than was usual - Cole heard the sounds around Lancely's water dragon and went to investigate. Seeing others, one of whom he believed he recognized as his brother, he made his way silently to join them.

His grip tightened and he hauled himself up, swinging to the other side of the hole to gain an unsure foothold. Had this very first section done him in, they may very well find only ashes the next morning.  The soles of his boots were now also wet, making for precarious footing, but he caught hold of the entrance to the next section and stopped there, studying what awaited him next.

Well, he held his breath, eyes going wide. A glance toward Gabriel and the one who had joined them and then another toward Lazare and he was back to watching Vincent.

"Mmmmph." Lazare grunted with a grin following. If only!

He caught sight of Cole, his presence felt with the prickling of hair along the back of his neck, in a way he learned to discern it was a brother of his. "Cole," waving him over in invitation then gestured to the three others. He most likely would recognize the two kingsmen. "Sir Lazare, who you have met and Sir Vincent," indicating the one on the water gauntlet presently. "His squire, Bannon."

The King's Man stationed safely on the ground looked to Cole with a nod of greeting. Not wanting to miss Vincent's next venture, he was quick to return his gaze.

"Good evening, Sir Lazare. Bannon." A nod greeted each; he'd acknowledge the renowned Sir Vincent when he was finished with the monster. Turning his gaze to it, he draped an arm over Gabriel's shoulder lazily and watched with
interest.

"Good evening, Sir." He bowed slightly, and was immediately watching Vincent again.

Gabriel shifted his weight to accommodate for the arm and subsequent weight added, his arms crossing mid chest as focus turned on Sir Vincent.

Vincent's jaw tensed, released, tensed and he stepped forward into the next challenge. Weaving a path past the flags, he twisted and turned to avoid any possible contact. He had never seen the machine in action before, so was
unsure what would transpire if he failed to avoid touching those flags. Knowing Caster's warped mind, however, Vincent didn't wish to find out. In and out, shift and pivot, until he made it to the other side. He glanced behind
him only once, then turned to survey what awaited him. Balloon bumpers? Were you kidding? He stood a moment, taking in what he could of the trials he would soon face, then started in.

Continued....