[center][h1]Gideon Balmomt [/h1][/center]
[hr]

"Again!" The word rang out across the camp, for days, weaks. Many of these young men found it to be a source of pain, or anger. There was a thud as sand shot up from under a fallen recruit, who was begrudgingly starting to get up. In front of him was a towering older knight, a thick black patch covering his right eye. A number of others were watching  the drill, which was a simple disarming tactic. The older gentlean would allow himself to be disarmed by anyone that was actually doing it right.

As the boy stood up to have another go, Gideon raised has hand, listening carefully. A challenge of some kind? "Practice with eachother." He says rather bluntly as he heads towards the commotion, where a small group was gathering for this. It appeared as though the ancient green knight issued it, Gideon had seen him ince, very long ago now. However, the thick skulled blood knight was starting to step forward, and Gideon himself moved to interrupt.

 He stepped rather openly into the challenge area, coming up beside the blood knight and sending out his left hand to smack the boy in the back of the head, much like an elder brother would to a foolish younger ones. He'd broken up more tavern brawls in a month and fought more people in them than half of those here had ever met, and this in fighting wasn't going to happen if he had a say.

"Get back to your training you damned brat." Gideon says to the blood knight, frowning with that fatherly disposition as he looks around. "Are you daft? Trying to fight now? Right now? We have much bigger things to worry about, and you!" He looks to the green knight, gazing directly into where he believed the eyes should be. This man was around longer than anyone he knew could remember, so Gideon chose to believe the story about him being a magic entity.

"You're going to step out here, swinging around challenges? You think someones ability to hit a daft dult like you measures their ability to serve their kingdom? You're a magic man yea? If they didn't give you a damned cock, stop trying to compensate for one and go be useful somewhere instead of trying to swing your axe around to pretend that a single person here should respect ya, your opinion on who is worthy is rat's ass without our king." 

He turns back, looking to the blood knight, of which he expected might not be happy about the little slap. Gideon's accent seems to grow a bit thicker as he scolds them, though at no point does he serm enraged. "And you ya damn clod, don't go rushing into any duel you can. We lost much of our home, don't throw our honour with it. Nobody, and I mean nobody, tells you whether you are good enough, and stepping up to try and prove it just because some cunt yells some words around either means you don't have your confidence, or your skull is too thick and focused on the fight to care."

"Anyone steps up to fight this man is worth about as much as the dirt they're standing on." He concludes, beginning his trek slowly back towards the training group. "You want to be worthy, you'll be a savior or someone who died as one. Not sparring around to play a game of 'I have the biggest fackin wank.' Ya hear? Go do something."