Hot Grub [Flashback Solo]

[Lyner]

Day 31, Fall 508 AV Mid Morning The road to Nyka was fraught with danger, strange weather subject to unpredictable mood swings and frightening brushes with bandits. But all for a few more coins than what they'd get on any other job at the marketplace, young boys could easily be persuaded to take the risky trip. The only requirements that were demanded of them were to fit the armor they had to wear, to actually have some fighting skills and have the stuff it took to be able to rough it outdoors. It sounded simple but the truth was harsher than it looked. The task was a daunting one, cold rain could sweep in from nowhere, the sun could get blisteringly hot and the road treacherous. But the temptation of big money was a vile thing to young men with empty pockets and it also it offered the trio something they really needed after the tragedy of losing a friend at the bronze woods weeks ago... a change of scenery. They would be able to forget the bitter memory of the last few weeks of mourning on this trip. For the first time in their lives they were going to be able to see more of the world, they were going to tread beyond the safety and security that the Syliran Knights offered into what was practically uncharted territory for them. The idea was almost romantic, the stories they could spin back at home would be grand... But the three boys could no longer look at the wilderness the way they did before. It was a dangerous thing to them now, it demanded their respect and they would never underestimate again. Lyner had vowed to be never caught unprepared, all three of them did. The Syliran had armed himself with his trusty longbow and a hand-me-down longsword he'd earned from an old knight in exchange for eight miza and labor. It wasn't much for a sword and it had seen it's fair shares of combat but the knight had been willing to part with the thing for a cheap price and he even threw in a few lessons in exchange for helping him clean out his cellar. His friend Todd had done the same as he, the Zeltivan still had his Javelins but he'd only brought two and was now equipped with a partisan, a true polearm that wasn't mean to be used as a one-shot deal. As for Ron, well the boy still had his good old crossbow but he also carried a smallsword with him now, he carried it everywhere he went. They all set out on this adventure with high hopes and expectations that young boys couldn't be blamed to have. But they had been tempered by their previous experience and had come prepared, bearing their tools and knowledge. In contrast the other lads that were making this journey had nothing on their mind but the prospect of easy money and afternoons spent walking across beautiful open country. The three boys smirked as their caravan passed the last patrol of Syliran Knights that they would see until the end of this journey. Their naive companions were in for a rude awakening.

[Lyner]

Caravans tended to carry supplies aplenty but that didn't mean that they would waste what they had in stock when what they needed could be found in nature. Everyone of the green recruits were surprised when they were asked to go look for a source of water and were given barrels to fill with them. The trio wasn't shocked at all. The first thing that Lyner and his friends learned about wilderness survival was that water would always be the first thing you needed to secure. Keeping themselves hydrated was key to survival and the same applied for beasts of burden. Horses needed water too, more water than humans required. Ahead of the trio, a group of Sylirans their age were looking at a pond, pointing into it's murky depths and shouting. "There's a pond right here, plenty of water." The three boys laughed but were quick to attend to the confused and a few offended lads. "You want running water, that tends to be cleaner." Lyner cautioned them calmly and with a friendly smile to match. "You'll be drinking that water you know." The sound of slow loud clapping distracted both parties and they found one of the few veteran mercenaries hired to lead the fresh batch of warrior-boys slowly approaching them. He was a tall man, almost as tall as Lyner and looked to be of mixed heritage, probably part Benshiran. "The kid is right," he said. "We cannot have you younglings sick cause you were careless. Take heed of his words of wisdom. Remember this lesson, you must filter the water, strain it into a pot or a metal helmet if you do not have a pot. Then boil the water you would use for drinking. You can kill the bad things in the water that way." The idea didn't even seem to occur to the boys but they were quick to accept the lesson, if only because it was meant to keep themselves from illness. "How do we know if there's any running water around?" one of them asked the Benshiran. "We don't even know where to look!" It was Ron's turn to shine, or brag, depending on how people took his words of advice. "Plants tend to grow in abundance the closer they are to a body of water, just like that pond. See over there, just across that hill. There's a line of trees, there may be water there. If there's no running water than it should be a bigger body of water and that's always better than a small murky pond." Some of the boys muttered grimly to each other but most of them nodded in acceptance. They were soon off, pulling a mule with them that carried barrels on either side. The older warrior seemed pleased at the three well-armed boys, he approached them and shook their hands vigorously. "They call me Karim," his accent was strong, it carried the rough but stern focus on vowels of Shiber. "I can see that you boys have experience under your belt. Where did you learn these things." "Rangers." the three recited in unison. "That kind of knowledge is always an asset." he was smiling widely, it seemed he'd been looking for some sensible kids to talk to all this time and these three were the first to show promise. "Yahal smiles upon this caravan it seems. Guide your less experienced peers will you. I must make sure that the others do not get themselves into trouble." When the Benshiran had left and the boys were a fair distance away Todd moved towards the trees near the edge of the pond and started picking nuts from them, filling his pockets as he moved from tree to tree. Ron and Lyner looked bewildered but the Syliran was the first to break his silence. "Is there something you aren't telling us?" Todd took a pair of the nuts, cracked the shell by striking it with the blunt end of his knife and tossed one each to Lyner and Ron. "These things are pretty good for travelling, the shells keep them good and they're packed with nutrition. Think of them as emergency rations." "They taste good too!" Ron announced in amazement as he munched on he one he'd been given. "Better get ourselves a lot of these." "My sentiments exactly." replied the Zeltivan.

[Lyner]

With a running source of fresh water nearby and daylight fast becoming scarce the caravan had ceased all activities of gathering water and instead moved the entire camp next to the small stream cutting through the grassland. It was easier on the boys who could escape the tiring responsibility of collecting water, everyone would have a chance to bathe themselves so long as they did it downstream and the animals too could drink without their fill being without their water being rationed. But there were also drawbacks to staying beside a source of water. Places like these attracted animals as much as it did humans. There were all sorts of things that made the streams their home, chief among them were the insects and lizards that seemed to thrive in the surrounding area. "I hate bugs." Ron eloquently said while waving around a shrub meant to swat away at the mosquitoes gathering around them. "I thought there wouldn't be any these things near running water." "They said there would be less, you can't hang out in the wilderness without bugs in your face." Todd countered. "Besides once we gather enough firewood we'll be able to smoke them away." Without Fredrick the three boys had grown a lot closer, the mutual loss of their friends ironically helped strengthen their camaraderie. It seemed everyone started talking more instead of keeping to themselves these days and Lyner was pleased at the change. "Funny," Lyner quipped. "I thought we needed it for heat and cooking." Ron elbowed the Syliran's ribs roughly. "Wise guy." The three laughed and continued moving and picking up twigs and dead branches as they cleared more of the surrounding area. They occasionally stopped by strange trees that Todd would inspect first, most of them weren't anything special but sometimes there was something that was useful. This one was a short tree with wide branches and pinnate leaves. "Neem trees, useful things these." Todd snatched a branch bearing many leaves and placed it in the hands of Ron. "The crushed leaves make for great insect repellent and help treat most skin disease, the bark can dull pain and the crushed seed and leaves together can help flush out parasites from the body." Ron helped himself to more of the leaves and tossed the Zeltivan a look. "Where do you learn these things anyway?" "Remember that old woman with the turban back in the neighborhood?" Ron looked up at the sky thoughtfully. "The one with that red dot on her forehead?" "I remember her, isn't she some kind of healer." Lyner chirped. "More of a herbalist." Todd corrected him. "Makes all sorts of balms and potions, plenty effective and she charges cheaper than most healers in the city." Lyner thought about it and decided that it might be wise idea to visit the woman and get lessons. It might not be a bad profession to go into, making money and helping people at the same time. His introspection was disturbed by Ron's exaggerated waving, the blonde seemed to have found something worth getting excited over. "Duuuude!" he was hissing in that excited matter that was his trademark. Both Lyner and Todd responded with an exasperated, "Whaaaaat?" He pointed at something brown moving at the foot of tall grass. "Rabbits!"

[Lyner]

Rabbits, small fuzzy pointed-ear devils that were often small and light on their feet. These grasslands were teeming with them, many of them that it wouldn't be impossible to get one on the plates of everyone back at camp. But the three boys had no desire to work for charity. That was too much work and a hearty thanks and a pat on the back didn't full their stomachs or make their pockets any heavier. They only wanted enough for themselves and if they were fortunate enough to get a spare or two... only then would they consider providing for their superiors. Nothing like a small token of friendship for better treatment and a chance for a small pay increase. Ron looked at the rabbits and stroked the crossbow resting on his back. He seemed to be contemplating their distance from their game. "Think we can shoot them Ly?" The Syliran shrugged. "I'm not an expert marksman Ron." "Then what do you propose?" Lyner looked at the clustered rabbits that were travelling through the grass before them. They still hadn't detected the three as far as they could tell. "The way I see it, we could hunt individually and try to get ourselves a hare each... but that's not going to be easy. Those things are pretty fast and they're damn small. How about he go around them, hem them in a circle and then swoop in and hit them as we try to corner them between us?" Todd seemed agreeable to the idea but he had more to add. "I have no trouble with that, if we're lucky we'll hit more than one. Two hares would be plenty for the three of us." the looked at his companions and the equipment they had on their person before continuing. "Since nobody here actually brought a yard of rope or a net I'm guessing we're working with what he have on our hands right?" That got him a paired nod. "I think we shouldn't use the blades of our weapons. I can just use the blunt edge of my polearm." he suggested. "I'll go first since my weapon has a wider reach and I don't want my spear and your swords to get tangled, that way I can sweep them to the direction of you both, if I fail I'm sure you guys can follow through." "I guess our formation wont be a triangle then, more axe shaped? Todd being the part of the axe head near the shaft and we the opposing points of the axe blade? I think you should follow through with your first swing though Todd, after swinging it once turn on your heel so you can hit them again sweeping in from the same direction." Nobody had complaints about Lyner's strategy. The Syliran hoped these rabbits had good fur, rabbit fur was very soft. They could make a bit of extra if they could sell those. Winter was coming too and fur prices were bound to go up a few notches. "I can probably strap the sheath of this blade to it's guard with a strip of cloth." he looked at the "Got any Ron?" "Nothing I'm not wearing." "Guess we'll have to improvise." Lyner removed his belt, looped one end around sheath's hook that secured it to his belt then he drew the belt around the sword's crossguard in an 'x' shaped loop before finishing it off with a knot. He tested the strength of his knot by trying to remove the scabbard forcibly and when that failed he swung it around quietly for a couple of rotations before he was confident that it was affixed in place. Ron quickly did the same and they were soon ready to get into their positions to spring their ambush. Lyner with his sheathed sword in hand ducked low and silently crept his way round the group of rabbits still within sight. Opposite of him he could see Ron's golden sun-kissed hair peeking over the tall grass and behind them Todd barely moved. His weapon's great reach meant that he didn't have to come as close to the rabbits as they would have to. When they arrived in their designated positions Todd raised his hands brought up three fingers. Lyner and Todd raised their weapons and brought them into optimal position to make a sweeping horizontal arc on the ground. The Zeltivan counted down from three to zero and then he held his polearm tightly in the preparation for a powerful wide-arced swing. When the wooden shaft came flying down, it parted grass and made a sharp sound in the air. The sound and sudden motion of the weed around them scared off many of the rabbits but it did hit the slower members of their pack. The hit downed a pair of brown rabbits that were average in length and size. Now it was Lyner and Ron's turn to do their job. They swept their swords almost simultaneously to meet the rabbits in an almost scissor like formation, that didn't work as well as they'd hopes since the rabbits started scattering, but it did force a few more to return in the direction they came only to be hit by Todd's polearm. That was another two to add to their kill count making a grand sum of four. While two were decent sized and the other pair were on the thin side they were going to have more than potatoes and bread tonight. The three boys were happy at their achievement. Four wasn't a bad number for a hastily coordinated hunting strategy.

[Lyner]

When they returned to camp the three hastily formed a small fire and Lyner looked for the Benshiran mercenary called Kalim to share with him the smallest of the game they'd hunted and a branch of neem tree. His gratitude was such that he gave the Syliran some cloves of garlic, assorted herbs plucked just an hour ago and two cups of rice grains from his rations. When Lyner returned to their small campfire bearing a wooden bowl of rice, garlics and some herbs Ron looked at him questioningly. "Do you know how to cook rice?" "I didn't but Kalim told me how." Lyner sat near the fire, segregating the contents of the wooden bowl - which was really just a coconut shell. "Its supposed to be as easy as boiling potatoes." "That so?" Ron seemed skeptical, but he was that way with a lot of things so Lyner didn't mind the change of the tone in his voice. "You just rinse the rice if you have water to spare, then put it in a pot or anything that functions as one and you boil it until the water vanishes." Both of Ron's eyebrows arched and he looked at the contents of the bowl in new light. "That does sound easy." "Is our pot clean?" Lyner asked the blonde before his question was answer by Todd's prompt arrival. The Zeltivan had in his hand an iron pot overflowing with water fresh from the stream. It was small, but it would do its job just fine. "Now it is... Hey is that rice?" Lyner silently nodded. "Yeah, I've never had it before." "I did, once." the Zeltivan pushed the rocks meant to support their pot close to the fire and loaded the thing on it. "Kind of tasteless.. A bit like paste, but its pretty good at soaking in the flavor of food." Ron had taken on the job of stripping the hares free of their innards. It was a dirty job, but he was actually the best cook in the group despite being inherently lazy. "You guys have water? I'm kind of parched?" Todd tilted his head to a clay jar with a wooden lid standing next to the tree they'd tied the top of their tent to. "That jar there has boiled water, it should still be warm by now." Ron helped himself to a cup and stood up lifting three skinned hares up in the air with both hands. "Think I'll clean these things downstream now. Lyner, you go and get started on that rice, if you have time after you're done cut the garlic into small bit and put them away for me." Lyner told the baker's son that he'd get to it. He went to the stream though he didn't have to go all the way down like Ron since all he was doing was rinsing grains of rice. When he came back the water in the pot was simmering already so he dumped the rice, effectively dropping the temperature and waited until it boiled and the water evaporated. While he wasn't doing anything beyond watching rice cook, he cut away at the garlic in Ron's bowl as he'd been asked and by the time he'd finished slicing that and the herbs the rice was ready. He unloaded the contents back from the bowl it'd come from and waited for Ron to amble back with nice and clean meat. "I think we can get started on the main course." the blonde announced grinning from ear to ear.

[Lyner]

Cooking rabbit wasn't as complicated a process as it seemed. Lyner watched in rapt curiosity as Ron started by coating the bottom of the pot with three spoons of oil, as for the meat itself, salt and pepper was being liberally applied unto it. The Syliran almost laughed since the baker's son looked like he was massaging the lump of flesh and bone. The next step was easy too, this Ron had Lyner help him out with. He had the Syliran turn the rabbit in it's pot every minute or so until it was dark and brown on all sides. The even distribution of heat was important according to the blonde, so that the rabbit was cooked through and through. This took roughly ten to fifteen minutes. While Lyner was working as a living roaster Ron was chopping away at fresh tomatoes, when he had a generous amount chopped he dumped it into the pot and emptied in a third of the contents of the bottle wine he'd brought into the stew too. They left this simmering for half an hour and Ron wouldn't permit Lyner or Todd to dig into the meal until he was certain that the thing was well done. There were many dangers to eating in the wilderness, eating raw meat was rarely ever a good idea. There was just too many diseases you could catch by simply being impatient. When Ron declared their stew done the other two boys didn't hold back. They dug into the feast, dining on rice and rabbit until they had their fill. Times like these, the three felt that the world was good and had nothing to complain about their low station in life. Then the time came for washing the pot and bowls and they were back to whining again, except perhaps for Lyner who still hadn't gotten over the bliss of having something delicious to eat once in awhile. He was going to have to work on his cooking skills one day, his friends weren't always going to be around to prepare food and he didn't want his diet to consist solely of boiled potatoes and burned barbecue. Todd rolled on his back and lay against the earth with only a thin wooden mat separating him from the soil. "Too bad we can't drink the wine huh?" Ron laughed and Lyner joined him. "I wish, I only have enough for cooking."

[Lyner]

Beyond the sphere of protection the city of Syliras provided its inhabitants, lawlessness was commonplace. Vast stretches of land empty save for vegetation offered many outlaws sanctuary in the form of cover and nourishment. Daring or foolish merchants to dared tread the wildlands alone or without escort would quickly discover that testing fate was a dangerous thing to do and often these merchants did not have the chance to repeat their mistakes. That was why merchant caravans hired a few battle hardened mercenary and many able-bodied young men who could pass off as the former when clad in the armor and helmet of such warriors. A large following of warriors always inspired doubt in the enemy. Often bandits wouldn't risk attacking such a well defended following. But rarely, strategies that relied on creating the illusion of great force backfired. More bold bandits were inclined to believe that heavily defended merchant caravans housed prized goods worth risking their lives for. The group of armed men that had set up a crude barricade in front of the road hesitated at the sight of a twenty strong guard. They had numbers on their side, but they were only a gang of skinny men, low-lives and thugs who'd escaped justice from the cities of the region. They were also poorly equipped and most of them had only daggers to threatened their prey with. The situation was nevertheless tense. Both sides refused to make a move though Karim who was one of the oldest warriors in the group had assembled those who had some skill with the bow and ordered them to form a firing line which they protected with a vanguard of men with large wooden shields, mere barrel lids painted masterfully by someone who had a talent for art. "Archers ready!" that was the signal for the warning shot. Lyner stood at attention, taking a closed stance with his rear foot supporting the lead foot to help carry his weight. He flexed his biceps, angling his elbow while keeping his arms stiff, straight and aimed at a clustered 3-man unit. He took an arrow and notched it into his drawstring, sliding it into the center of the thread before applying pressure with three fingers. He kept the fingers of his off-hand arm slightly relaxed, permitting some semblance of movement so that any stiffness that might offset his accuracy would be diminished. Now he only hoped his gauge of the rotation of his right fletched arrow was good. Ideally he would injure one of the bandits in a way that would impede his movement but not kill him. Injured allies were a drain on resources, they slowed down groups and left some form of psychological effect on their peers. What they were hoping to achieve here was precisely that. They wanted to scare the bandits off. They had no idea how skill their enemy were, but none of the mercenaries working on the caravan wished to test steel against steel. Nobody wanted to invite death here if it was willing to ignore them. "Fire!" they let loose a quick volley, arrows and bolts flew, some missing their mark, other's being deflected. Lyner's shot would have done critical damage but his target was apparently equipped with a shield painted in the same color of his clothes. Something hard to spot in the fading light of the day. The bandits had enough. Though they had lost no men but someone had taken a shot to the arm, a shallow one that penetrated their makeshift wooden round shields. They called for a retreat, muttering obscenities as they faded into the darkness.

[Lyner]

They were safe. For the moment. The sudden appearance of a large organized group of bandits went beyond the expectations of the merchants or the more experienced fighters in the group. In a pitched battle between forces of almost the same size skill and equipment would become the deciding factor. They wanted to avoid that scenario but hiding their tracks would be impossible without delaying their arrival by days. The merchants wanted to arrive in Nyka in a timely manner, they had schedules to keep and the closer they got to Nyka the better the chances they would come into contact with other merchant caravans who's escorts would certainly form a temporary alliance in the face of bandits. They were haunted by the threat of attack and Kalim started assigning more than two guards to stand watch at he perimeter of the camp. The evening that passed was nothing like those they enjoyed in the first week of their journey. There was a certain tension and everyone took on a somber and serious moon. Save perhaps for Lyner who was still trying to stay on the positive side. They were having boiled potatoes this night. A far cry from what they had a couple of nights ago but nobody was in the mood for cooking anything special, not even Ron. "Even if they attack it cant be that bad for us," the Syliran told his friends while prodding the potatoes cooking in their pot. He noted that his knife still didn't pierce through easily and that meant that they still needed some more time boiling... he guessed it wouldn't take much longer. He had soaked in the potatoes in water for an hour. That usually helped it absorb heat faster. The water, they could drink it when it cooled. Even if it would have some after-taste boiled water was still important enough to conserve though these lands were blessed with veins of water. "We've got steel weapons and armor. You saw them, they only had daggers." "The armor's just for show though, poor metal, thin too. I don't think it can take more than a single slash and I'm sure a proper thrust will penetrate through this flimsy thing." Todd flicked the chestplate he was wearing and it chimed like hollow tin. "I'm just concerned... its possible that they're talking to some other bandits. This group isn't prepared to take on real warriors." "If things get messy we run." Ron firmly told his friends. He wasn't regressing into his snobbish and arrogant self now, a drastic improvement from before. "We know how to survive outdoors and I'm good at hiding tracks." Their loyalty belonged to each other. The promise of money wasn't worth throwing away their lives. They'd learned the value of life months ago and they weren't going to forget that lesson so easily. "Hey Ron, how are those lizards?" The blonde looked at the other fireplace they'd started and the snake that they'd caught had shriveled up and changed color. Cooked, not burned. The taste was acquired, but whatever filled the stomach and didn't poison you was always welcome to the three lads. "Just right. A snake and onion kebab, I'd never thought I'd ever be glad to gaze at this." "I heard that some of those boys our age started getting lessons from the older fighters." Lyner stated plainly. "Think we should drop by after dinner? We could learn a thing or two." Unexpectedly Ron was the one who supported the idea. "Sure, I'm not so good at my sword." Todd yawned and stretched his limbs to the point where it caused some discomfort. Then he placed both hands behind his neck and he leaned back against the dead log behind them. "Don't mind me if I'll stay here. I don't want anyone stealing our stuff while you two are away."

[Lyner]

The sparring exercises were little more than boys playing swordsmen. Kalim and the other four seasoned veterans weren't pleased at the demonstration of ability that these young Sylirans were giving them. Swordmanship found on flourish and high energetic bursts of activity rarely delivered in the field of battle and bloodshed. The Benshiran nodded to Lyner and Ron, the other older men didn't welcome he addition of more children pretending to be swordsmen. The dark look Ron gave Lyner told the Syliran how he was measuring these people in front of them. To the blonde they were nothing more than fodder, moving weed that were asking to be mowed down in a serious engagement. "If we get attacked, we're going to die." One of the younglings from Syliras who has exceptionally quick on his feet was setting himself apart from the rest. He had impressive coordination and his movements were fast despite the flour in his attacks. The only problem Lyner could really see in his attacks were that even if he could rain blows on his opponent, there was almost no power in those cuts. He had no stable foundation to draw power from. "Lyner," Kalim approached the Syliran putting an arm over the kid's shoulders. "Why don't you spar with him." The Syliran wasn't so enthusiastic, even though he had confidence in his swordsmanship he only enjoyed a few weeks lessons from an old knight at most. His fencing was boring, simple, almost skeletal in it's obedience of textbook Syliran Knight swordplay. "He seems good." "He's a circus performer, an acrobat." Kalim informed him. "I want to see if you can give him a lesson and the other kids as well. Take one of the sparring swords, there should be one that's long enough left that resembles your weapon." Lyner relented. It was a training exercise, even if he had his ass handed to him it would only mean that this group of fighters wasn't as green as he'd believed it was. Before he psyched himself up for the spar he took Ron and pushed him in front of the Benshiran. "Ron here is a damned good shot at the crossbow but he believes his skill with the shortsword is lacking. He wants to study seriously, will you take him?" The Benshiran smiled. "Sure, if I can trust him to guard my back with a crossbow then I'll be more happy to make him a better fighter in whatever way I can." Ron bowed his head, his usual acid gone in place of respect. The boy was uncharacteristically polite towards his elders, he seemed immature among peers but his father was a strict man and Ron had acquired great respect for his seniors so long as they seemed deserving. "I appreciate it sir." As soon as Ron's training was secure Lyner prepped himself up for the spar. Diving into difficult physical activity without a warm-up exercise was stupid, he'd learned from an Isur back home who was also responsible for teaching him how to sculpt his body that it was important to prepare the body for movement. Light exercise that would help kick start the heart and increase the flow of blood to the limbs was as important at proper breathing. The Syliran jogged in place, twisting both arms while folding and extending them them all behind him and before him. He breathed slowly, inhaling deep through his mouth. Deep breaths as he'd learned, filled lungs more than shallow quick gasps. A man who could keep inhaling air properly in any activity was less likely to grow exhausted. When he felt that his body was reasonably warm he began going the the motions of leg exercises, he stretched his legs, folded and extended his knee and performed silly looking squatting exercises that invited the ridicule of his fellow Sylirans. He ignored them, pressing on and moving into jumping jacks. His body was as much a weapon as the sword on his hip or the dagger strapped around his boot, failing to maintain it he way he sharpened his blade with a whetstone was foolish. When he finally deemed himself prepared he collected a dense wooden sparring blade hastily made judging by the uneven surface of it. This thing was only slightly shorter than his weapon but the blade was wider by a full two inches, he suspected it was made that way to create the weight that would emulate that of a real longsword. A couple of swings and thrusts into the air told him that the weapon was truly meant to replicate the mass of a steel longsword to a convincing degree. "You, the kid with the muscles." the young wiry man with light feet glared at him, it seemed he'd been looking at Lyner since Kalim had approached him. "You've been looking at me for quite some time, you want to go at it?" there was a bit of arrogance in the acrobat's voice but Lyner's ire wasn't going to be baited by something so shallow. Fortunately for the performer, this apprentice in the art of swordsmanship wanted the same thing he did. Lyner raised himself to his full height and he rested his sparring blade over a shoulder. "I accept your invitation, sir."

[Lyner]

The lithe and slender acrobat's stance was free, his movements flowing and fast. In sharp contrast the big Lyner simply remained firmly planted where he stood, one leg behind the other exactly a shoulder's breadth apart. He looked at his opponent with a calm smile and a look of cool confidence in his eyes. Lyner was breathing through his mouth in a measured rythm and he held his sword with both hands, his grip neither too loose nor unforgiving. His was a stance of neutrality, his sword simply hovering in front of his to guard his center line while it's edge slightly fell in the direction of his opponent's. The stance was enough to put a dent on the acrobat's confidence, he still wore his sardonic smile but there was something off, a tension in his steps where there was none before. He held his slim sword one-handed and jogged around Lyner, trying to get behind him. The swordsman turned his feet, pivoting on the lead foot to keep his opponent well within his vision. Now the rest of the members of the merchant's guard were watching. This was an unusual development, two fighters who could look no more different who used styles that were equally contrasting. Someone unpredictable and quick against someone who favored a completely conventional style and a firm unyielding guard. The older mercenary had joined the small group of boys watching. They were grinning, their eyes taking on a hint of a their pleasure at seeing something familiar in one of the fighters before them. The acrobat was the first to strike. His impatience led him to bee-line towards the swordsman and spring forward, his blade sweeping in from a reverse-handed grip. Lyner simply adjusted his stance, drawing the lead foot back since that was where the attack was coming from and he'd always been told to respond to attacks by retreating on the side being challenged. The power of the reverse-handed swing was dispersed at the bigger fighter permitted the smaller and faster one to push him back. Then the counter-attack came. Lyner would put his superior leverage to work, with one hand near the hilt and the other near the pommel he was able to generate great fine motor control and he rotated the blade's edge in a circle. It was a technique meant to disarm the acrobat if he challenged. The strange sensation the acrobat felt as the bigger sparring blade tried to pry his smaller one from his hand scared him and he retreated. His swordsmanship was poor but his instincts incredible. Lyner would not be able to win this fight easily despite his advantage in training and discipline. So this is talent... he mused lightly. He envied the acrobat's speed and his ability to react just as quickly. He had yet to begin the training his knight instructor suggested to him to improve his own speed, he didn't have the money to find an instructor. Lyner didn't want to lose though. Were his opponent talented or not he had worked hard to get to his level of proficiency. If he would lose it would be after he milked all his training for all it's worth. He would test himself properly here. Since the acrobat was hesitating it was Lyner's time to advance. He moved with measured and small steps, a foot moving forward and gaining stability before the other followed. His stance was never being compromised for speed, that was his opponent's forte, he would use strength and stability as his swordstrokes flew. He used wide far-reaching strokes, trying to take advantage of his reach combined with the weapon's own. The effect was remarkable, his opponent had to roll out of the way, ducking under the path of the wooden blade because he had miscalculated the range and the size of the arc. Lyner was quick to cease his attack however, he retraced his motions favoring a steady stance with a guard in the neutral position in the heart of his center line. A flurry of attacks had its place, but if he allowed the opponent to get used to them then there was no question that the talented acrobat would eventually figure out the rhythm of Lyner's assault. The acrobat waited, running around again and feinting charges only to veer off back into the orbit he was creating around Lyner. The swordsman simply remained vigilant, willing his body to relax and not tense up. When the acrobat felt that it was time to strike again Lyner caught him in a conventional trap. He noted that the boy was moving faster than ever before and he retreated from the side he was being attacked, then applied a textbook technique. He dropped his legs, his knees flexed and he placed his sword's guard into the fool's guard position where it's blade almost touched the soil. The acrobat looked like he was going to impale himself into the waiting fangs of the solid bladework but his instincts allowed him to kick himself away, throwing his body to one side where he awkwardly hit the ground and rolled in dirt. He recovered quickly and had his blade raised but Lyner was upon him. Swiftly, he brought his wooden longsword down, striking the point of the soil in the direction where the acrobat wanted to move. He yet had his short sword between him and steel but his breathing was growing faster and faster he was soaked in sweat. Meanwhile Lyner's steady rhythmic intake of air and the cool but humble confidence he wore made him seem a well of endurance and stamina. The acrobat didn't want to push his luck, he could still use the excuse of being tired to his advantage too. "I yield." Lyner's blade lingered for a few seconds before he put it away into it's standard neutral guard. "Well met sir." The swordsman relaxed and dropped his chin in a big nod. "I am pleased to have your hand supporting this mercenary squad, it was a good fight." The older mercenary clapped their hands, the other boys weren't pleased at the premature end of what could have been a long fight however. Lyner returned to Kalim's side and the man was clapping his hands loudly. "Who taught you again?" "An old knight," Lyner gave the mercenary the sparring sword back. "My lessons were simple... I couldn't afford more." "My people taught me a different form of swordsmanship, I would like to learn yours." the Benshiran flashed Lyner a scimitar. The curved blade's design was not something Lyner had ever encountered before.