The young man was at a loss. Oliver knew he was being particularly difficult that day. It wasn't in Jorah' nature to be reckless. But that only made him all the more fun to tease.
"Eh? What's the Boss doing? How come Jorah gets a turn at sparring before me? And what are you lot doing stopping your drilling for? Back to work! Back line, press up against the front, extend those spears! EXTEND!" Firyr said, momentarily distracted by the scuffling on the other side of the training ground.
There was no need for any teasing this time. Oliver could practically see the gears turning through Jorah's eyes. He fancied he could recognize the moment when the young man made the decision to go all out. His forearms tensed up, and he brought his sword up, past his shoulder. He came rushing in with a battle cry, trying to fight against his instincts not to cut at his Lord.