51th day of Spring, 510AV It was a breezy Spring day, and Xalet had a meeting with a man whom was supposedly going to teach him various important shield techniques. The Knight, Ser Hallock, had supposedly becoming incredibly experienced in the use of nearly any shield completely independent on size or shape. Hallock was a shaggy, dark-haired man with similarly dark beady eyes almost always engaged in a squint. Coarse wrinkles had formed across his face from this consistent level of facial tension, however despite the narrowed eyes his vision was supposedly good enough to strike an opponent with a javelin at a full run from over fifty paces. Once Xalet was in attendance, the stocky Knight began his introduction, "G'day to you son, name's Brian Hallock and I'll be go--what in the name of Lhex's wits happened to your armor?!" He had arrived at a dead stop, walking forward toward the purple skinned Squire, the back of his hand rapping against a formidable dent that had found its way deep into the heart of the Akalak's cuirass. "Yes Ser. Sorry Ser. Got kicked by a mule." Xalet was quick with a response. For all the Squire was known for, exaggeration and deceit was not within his means of communication. "Well, I should damn sure you did! Gads, straight in the heart he got ya eh? Musta been Izurdin's mule, it was. We're going to postpone the shield lesson for the moment and get your chestplate back into service. Follow me, there's an anvil I often use back at the 'works. Workin' steel cold ain't too hard, and it's something you'll need to learn so we can keep what you've got in top shape. Follow me Squire." the man swept his hand in a gesture that beckoned Xalet, which saw the Squire responding promptly as the two headed over toward the Ironworks. |