Day 63, Spring of 510 AV 30 Chimes after the 9th Bell Ishkaral's Home / Training Facility Eridanus grunted, feeling the strain on his thigh as he stretched on the ground, determined to increase his flexibility so that his evasion and martial options would be increased. It was common sense that the larger the angle one's legs can stretch comfortably, the higher one can kick. And the head tended to be pretty high up. Unless one happened to be fighting a midget, which by observation tended to be pretty rare. He had returned to Ishkaral's home the next day, as promised, and was pretty much hyped about learning more about this martial arts. Sanctus Peccator, he believed it was called. He wasn't too sure though, he wasn't very good at memorizing things in other languages, and while he was pretty sure that it was a name in the Akalak language, he was not familiar with the language at all. Maybe he should ask his friend to translate it to Common for him. As for now he largely remembered it as the unarmed technique that floored his ass, which was not at all a particularly flattering way of remembering it, especially not to his sense of self-pride. Ishkaral had told him to prepare his body in an open area in his dojo, and left the area for his tools. Honestly, he was not too sure what 'tools' the teaching of unarmed combat would need, unless he meant the padded safety gear. It was great, though, that his friend was concerned about safety, for the Vantha learnt his abilities in the past the hard way. The hard way being learning and doing things that didn't get you killed. Or if you had the luck of not being killed the first time, not repeating it ever. At least not in the same set of circumstances. He jumped a few times, feeling his heart speed up its pumping, bringing a flush to his pale tone. He was excited and hoped that his learning capabilities would not be poor enough to upset his friend. |