A Time of Tigers - From Peasant to Emperor
Chapter 1408 - 1408: Ambitions - Part 5

"Ah, that… I don't know if it's practical for combat use," Harmon said. "Well, I'd say I know for a fact it isn't. These talons create a weakness that you'd rather not have, and they're certain to be caught on something. But I do like the idea that they might be able to catch a blade in them before they snap, allowing for a strange counter attack, or something of that sort."

"That's the sort of slight, momentary advantage that a tournament fighter might very well consider," Oliver noted.

"Aye!" Harmon agreed, excited by Oliver's recognition. "A soldier on campaign wouldn't want anything like this. They'd prize durability above all else. But I reckon, just for a tournament, they might be content with the fact of its weakness, and be pleased to have a single use trump card that might get them their win. Oh, while I have you here, Ser, do you mind if I ask you about the rules of this tournament?"

"I could tell you, but I have a feeling that as an armourer, you aren't interested in the set of rules as a whole, but those that concern your craft," Oliver said.

"You see through me…" Harmon said. "Aye, I wondered what weaponry and equipment you might allow them to have. I was worried that you might make them fight in padded gambesons, and heavy wood swords, rather than plate."

"No, for armour, we have decided to place no restrictions," Oliver said. "A man can wear whatever he has available, as best suits his style. For weaponry… We're still in the process of discussion. We had thought to allow bladed weapons, though blunted, but if we allowed maces, and flails and warhammers by the same token, then those weapons would hold a considerable advantage, given that they needed no blunting. I think I would appreciate your opinion as an armourer, as to how we might be fair to different types of fighters, whilst limiting injury."

"Different tournaments for different weapons, that's usually how it's done…" Harmon said thoughtfully. "But you're making grand scale melees, aren't you, Ser? In which case… aye, maces and warhammers are going to have a considerable advantage. Have you thought to make them padded?"

"Padding them?" Oliver said. "Wouldn't that make them too weak?"

"It's possible," Harmon said. "But I reckon you could get just the right amount of padding to blunt the blow that it'd match the blunting of the bladed weapons that you've done. But from the sounds of it, you're going to need an awful lot of weapons, eh? Since you're going to be supplying them."

"Hm… Padding… I suppose I simply want to avoid fights that take place primarily with wooden weaponry. We don't want anyone to die, but we don't want to lose the heart of combat either."

"Padding then would be your best bet, Ser Patrick, I'd say," Harmon said, nodding deeply. "Might take a bit of experimenting to get the balance right, bluntness of blades to the padding of blunt-force weaponry, but I reckon you'll get there in the end."

"Could I ask for your opinion on that, in future?" Oliver said. "We would have trouble matching your eye for armour. Any experiments that we carry out, I think, would do well if they were met with your final approval."

"If… if you reckon so, Ser," Harmon said, scratching the back of his head, somewhat bashfully. "I've got a fair bit of work on my plate, but I can spare a handful of minutes here and there to see what you've come up with, I'm sure."

Oliver nodded. "It is appreciated."

He took his leave then, performing more of his inspections of the village. He supposed that the problem of making the weaponry fair was just one of many. It was the sort of problem that was quite easy to get fully absorbed in. He imagined how he might fight differently, with the different equipment. He didn't suppose that there would be as much advantage for plate armour wearers, if there wasn't the sharp edge of a sword to be blocked.

He sighed. In an effort to make things ever so slightly safer than true combat, they would most certainly be losing the heart of it. "…I wonder if we ought to keep the edge on our blades," Oliver pondered. "Would that not make matters easier? And simply have a referee to step in, when matters have gone too far?"

It was ever so tempting, but naturally, given the nature of bladed weapons, it would mean that they would have a few deaths of their hands. Though, such deaths would still be very much possible, if someone received a particularly strong blunt force blow to the head.

"It's a difficult decision to make in the end," Oliver said to himself. "I wonder if it's even one with a perfect answer?"

The next group that Oliver stopped by were his own soldiers. He'd passed a few of them on duty, and they'd greeted him, but his target for that day was the training ground. He'd heard through Verdant and Jorah that the men were particularly excited for the tournament, but he hadn't yet stopped by to see just how excited they were himself.

In turned out, he didn't need to. He could have simply walked a distance away, and listened to the enthusiastic shouts, before the road took him clear of the cluster of houses that blocked his view of the training grounds.

"COME ON YOU COWARD! DO YOU THINK THAT'S A SWORD BLOW THAT'LL WIN YOU ANYTHING IN THE TOURNAMENT, EH?!" Oliver could hear Firyr shout. Even from a distance, the man's voice dwarfed absolutely everyone else's. Oliver pitied the neighbours that had to listen to such shouting all day long.

Oliver arrived to see the men in the midst of combat. Or at least, Firyr was. He'd set three of the new recruits against them, and with his spear – covered in padding – he was giving them a mighty beating, making their swings look even wider than they were with swift dodges. It wasn't even close.

"Alright, next group," Firyr said, spitting on the ground, as if the current trio lying on the floor weren't even worth his time. "Those three, I tell you, won't be getting their chance. I've seen more fight in a corpse, I have."