Wimter 23, 513 AV
Ser Iros had called his squire to the training grounds earlier than usual, it seemed he had already planned the day’s training regimen, “Listen up, you doughboy, today I have a special training partner for you.” He paused, inspecting his young squire. “She is better than you in everyway, and in no way are you her equal. You will train with her. You will listen to her commands. The weapon masters will be watching, and I will not be far behind!” He was inches away, screaming into Rodistair face, shouting in his booming Akalak voice. The young squire nodded earnestly, the challenge issused forth by his patron piqued the boy’s interest. What ever his patron had in order for him was sure to e fun for the young squire, who enjoyed the fight, and the struggle- atleast for today.
As they traveled through the bustling training grounds, the chill air seemed to make the ringing sounds of training swords echo louder than in the fall, and summer. They walked for only a few ticks, before Iros had led him to his foe for the day. “Ryia Brock, I have someone I would like you to meet.” Iros called her with almost kindness, and respect in his voice.
Rodistair studied his soon to be foe. She was around the same age as he was, and about the same height as her. Something about her seemed scary, though, an unspoken power, hidden in her cool eyes, and long hair. The young squire saluted, bringing the wooden sword to his forehead, maybe this young girl would enjoy the fight as much as he did. He hoped to learn something, and teach her anything he could. Today, was going to be fun.