Boro looked up at the parapets to the tall stone wall that encircled the city of Helfa. The wall itself was about 70 hands tall. Guards patrolled the top of those fortifications, their colorful plumed helmets and halberds peeking over the merlons of the wall. Boro rode through the open gates of the bustling city.
The city of Helfa has a long history, existing as a relatively large town for nearly one hundred and fifty years before falling into the capable hands of Jetir Triem. Lord Triem was gifted the town about fifty years ago after helping the current King unify and stabilize Galaos. He turned the town into a sprawling metropolis of trade and entertainment. The city itself was grand, with most buildings standing with at least two floors. The roofs of the buildings were a rainbow of colors that added to the majesty of the city.
Upon entering Helfa, Boro immediately began searching for a reputable inn to stable his steed and rent a room for the day. He stopped briefly to ask a gate sentry where he might find a place and was eyed suspiciously, and then directed further into the city where he would come across the Golden Goose, the most popular inn for well off merchants and lords.
The Golden Goose was a four story inn, with a sign emblazoned with gold letters and a gold lacquered goose, sitting on top of a large golden egg. The windows of the inn were stained glass depicting the story of the Golden Goose. The inn shouted its wealth and status to those passing outside of it.
Boro handed his horse's reins to a stable boy, bidding him to be careful of the temperamental horse. The boy looked at Boro with a faint air of disbelief, as if Boro had just said the stupidest thing he'd ever heard. Then reached up and patted Dingir on the nose without hesitation.
"There's a good girl," He said, reaching into his pocket and pulling out a handful of oats and holding it out for her to eat. He headed to the stables, all the while patting her thick neck. Boro had to stop his jaw from smacking into the hard, cobbled road as he watched the boy walk toward the stable.
Grumbling to himself about the unfairness of the world, he walked through the door of the Golden Goose. As he passed through the threshold his senses were promptly assaulted by the smells and sounds of the lively inn. Though it was still morning the inn was packed. Wealthy merchants, both men and women, not to mention several lords, lordlings and ladies, were sitting in groups at various tables sipping from large mugs, or gambling away their money. This time Boro saw the players using cards, the wealthy person's choice for gambling. Boro even noticed a colorfully dressed bard plucking his elegant harp to the tune of, 'The Soldier's lady', a bawdy tune that still made Boro blush when he thought of the words that go with it.
Laughter and groans in equal amounts made up the cacophony of sounds, over which the loud hum of various conversations taking place. From his nose Boro took in the smells of food being cooked, bacon, eggs, and other rich scents filled his nostrils.
Boro strode over to the bar, where several nearby lords eyed him and his sword and made disdainful faces. Boro tried to walk with confidence but the eyes on his back made him stubble from the foot of a chair. Face reddening, he straightened himself up and walked the last couple steps to the bar.
"One mug of ale if you please," Boro said to the large woman wiping clean a glass mug. He dropped a few copper royals onto the counter top. " And a plate of whatever that delicious smell is as well"
The bar women smiled, scooped up the copper coins, nodded her head to him in thanks and then walked to the kitchen.
As he waited, Boro turned back to eye the common room of the inn. A large brick fireplace dominated the far, center wall of the inn. It was warm enough in the season that the fireplace was devoid of a fire, and looked spotless and well kept.
From a table in the center of the room sat a well dressed man, he had bright red hair and a face full of freckles and the air of someone who believed they were the most special thing to happen to Korone. From his time at The Academy Boro had come to be very familiar with these types of nobles. Stuck up, and self assured with zero actual reason for that attitude other then their birth status. So while he was not surprised by this young man's demeanor, he was surprised by the weapon slung across the back of his chair haphazardly. It was a long, thin blade, a rapier, with an intricate flower-patterned hilt guard.
A sword master perhaps, Boro thought to himself. He wondered about the rapier; they were some of the more uncommon types of blades used these days. Generally speaking they weren't preferred because they're mainly only useful for driving through chain-mail or leather armor, which had fallen out of favor and use years ago. Most sword wielders use broader styles because they can hack through plate metal or shields. Not to mention that broadswords were more durable and widely available than a lot of other styles and weapons. Spears, pike, halberds, maces and other such weapons, while still used, were less common since metalworking advancements had made swords cheaper and more accessible. That said, anyone truly skilled could kill with just about any weapon.
He did not recognize the young lord from The Academy, but there were other paths, and other schools, one could take to earn the title of blade master. The noble noticed Boro eyeing his sword and stood and began walking over to him. A cocky smile spread across his face.
"I see you've noticed my fine blade boy, think you could best me with that?'' He had said that, mockingly, referring to Boro's own blade. "I've been trained by the finest swordsmen this side of Gladous, this rapier and I have won twelve consecutive duels against some pretty formidable foes." His chin jutted out and his chest filled with his own pride.
"I am Lord Littume Triem, and my father is the Lord of this city" He looked Boro up and down, waiting for him to give his own name.
"I am Boro Malus, a soon to be Blade Master, graduate of The Academy" He said formally, bowing as was polite, given Littume's status as a noble.
"Malus...Malus... Why is that name familiar to me?" Littume's face scrunched up in thought, then lit up in awe. "You're related to Bora Malus, the greatest Sword Master to live? At least till he went and got himself, and thousands of others killed. '' He added the end with another tone of mocking.
Boro gritted his teeth at the insult to his family name. It wasn't the first time some snot nosed noble had thought to provoke him using his fathers failure. Mika had been too willing to lord that over him.
"What's the son of a disgrace doing holding a blade?" Littume asked condescendingly. "I wager your father was a third class sword master, and I'd wager you are too."
"I'd wager I could thump you all up and down this city, and not take a single hit back" Boro snapped back, his anger getting the best of him.
Littume's eyes widened, clearly he was not used to being talked back to, the spoiled noble that he is. He walked back to his chair and pulled the rapier from the back of it. His table mates were getting up as well. They did not carry blades themselves but each was burly and thickly armed. They began rolling up their sleeves.
At that moment, the bar woman walked back out with Boro's mug of ale and plate of food and took the scene in. She sighed and, as if used to this scene in her establishment, bade them to take their duel outside to the streets.
Boro turned to the women and said, "Keep that warm for me this won't take long"
While the bar women chuckled, Littume shot Boro, and her, as well, dirty looks. "You'll regret those words, worm. You don't stand a chance against me, I was trained by the best"
Littume and his cronies walked out into the street and Boro followed them, loosening his sword from its scabbard. After the bandits and his training in the Academy, this would be like fighting an infant.
The crowded streets of Helfa parted for Littume and his crew, apparently this happened often because people eyed Boro and shook their heads. Still a small crowd stopped to watch the two. Duels were common enough on Korone that most didn't end up in death, or prison.
Boro took a ready stance, hand held on sword. Littume drew his rapier and stood sideways, one hand on the intricate hilt and the other held behind his back. His face lost the cocky, mocking smile it was so familiar with and adopted a more serious look of concentration. One of Littume's goons looked at both duelists and then nodded his head for them to begin.