Ironsmith Keep sat empty without the household there and instead in Widows Watch which left only common people to ‘hold the fort’. Down at the training fields within Ironsmith Keep the Master of Arms Rodrick and the Head of the Household Guard Garth sat overlooking some new blood. Rodrick looked towards Garth and pointed at a young new recruit who’s helmet could barely fit.

“This one won’t make the winter, these summer children can barely even wear their own bloody armour.” As he said that the boys helmet fell down on his face and the trainer hit him over the head with the weighted stick, causing a hefty laugh from Rodrick on the sidelines.

“Go easy on the boy, you were like him once. It’s been a while of course, not many people are still alive from the Age of Heroes.” he replied back, laughing quietly to himself.

“Watch your words boy, I may be old but I could still take you down in a fight!”

“Want to make this interesting? Whoever wins has to mentor the boy.”

“I hope you enjoy training duties for the next 10 years.”

The two men smiled but behind those smiles hid a dangerous competitiveness that even the men training picked up on. Garth and Rodrick walked to the sparring square and picked up the weighted sticks while some of the recruits hastily put on the padded armour laying around onto their bodies. As the men got ready the recruits placed bets “20 coppers for the Master of Arms” and “A silver to the guard!”. The men stood eyeing each other up and down, gripping their sticks and tensing their muscles until a recruit yelled out “Fight!”.

Garth tensed and Rodrick charged at him with a long thrust which Garth deftly brushed aside. The men stood on opposing places from where they begun. There was silence for a second before Garth yelled out and threw an overhead swing at Rodrick which he blocked and sent back a flurry of slashes. The men deftly parried each other and replied with more and more hits. The crowd cheered loudly as their chosen champion won and lost ground, the duel being evenly matched. Garth however was younger and quicker, but could barely break through the older mans strength until the two parted and stood catching their breath. Garth smiled at his opponent and threw his stick hitting the old man right in the head, which he followed with a heavy tackle which swept up Rodrick onto his back. Garth quickly grabbed the mans stick and held it against his throat.

“Goodluck with the boy, you’ll need it.” he said smiling as he got off Rodrick.

“Fuck you, cheap tricks won’t help you win wars.”

“Neither will insulting the recruits.” Garth smiled at him condescendingly and while walking away patted the boy on the back, to which his helmet fell forward covering his eyes. Rodrick sighed and got up then walked to the boy, “Cmon boy, we’ve got work to do.”