Backflips are Harder than they Look.

by **Archailist** on February 26th, 2014, 4:09 pm

45th of Winter, 513.

In all of Nyka, there was nowhere that could be used by both monks and travelers for combat training. If there was, all of his exploration and careful traversing of every inch of the city that he could get inside with either a Note of Passage or some of his best squirrel-sneaking hadn't shown it, and so he highly doubted there was any monk around that could do much better than he. The only pace that came close to it, would be the Warfields.. but even there, it wasn't all that much when one put it in perspective. One could spend bells upon bells training themselves there, but in the end, they'd just know their way around the Warfields, and nothing about battle. It was quite ironic really, given how many of the monks around Nyka seemed to express such discipline and combat readiness. But, it was how they worked, he supposed. That being said, though, it wasn't like there wasn't the threat of combat nearing every day..

His thoughts were fractured as commotion drew out again. Monks were fighting.. two of them, hand-on-hand, with a small crowd gathered around them. Some simply watched, others tried to push themselves between the two and calm their fighting. Soon it was escalating, and the squirrel found that he probably should have been moving on. So, he turned away and carefully crawled up the length of the roof of the house he'd been perched on, before he scurried across to the very edge and made a small jump down to the next roof across, and slightly below. Sometimes, he wondered why the monks would always fight so much when they all worshiped the same deity? He'd asked some of the monks these questions, but they'd only laughed and continued walking, when they didn't outright ignore him for being a talking squirrel. Frustrating, they all were... either they weren't giving him a straight answer or they weren't giving him an answer at all. But he supposed that they didn't need to give him one.

The next roof was scaled with a cautious scampering across the ridge, using all four legs to keep his firm grip and stop from sliding over the edge, his tail to retain balance through it all, and a small leap to the one directly opposite took only some effort. Thanks to the small balcony that he could hop across to, even though it overlooked the lip of a crowded street below. From landing on the balcony, he could climb carefully up the bannister using the wooden guard underneath, and from there, hop up to grab onto the lip of the roof and climb up onto the roof again. It took a while, and some careful touches here and there, but he could do it. He'd been practicing, after all. Oh, he'd been practicing a lot. As he moved off towards the next roof, more shouting and yelling filled the air, but he ignored it this time - he'd seen enough fighting for one day. Why couldn't the monks just learn to get along like the others, it wasn't like there was any danger..

by **Archailist** on March 4th, 2014, 7:52 pm

My Words | Your Words | My Thoughts

The next house gave the squirrel a perfect view out over the city. It wasn't that high per se, but it was set in a place that allowed him to glance between the Hall of Robes and the Palace of the Celestials, and gave a sort of panorama of the West Quarter, with glimpses of the North and South on each end, and chimney extended a little further than most and gave a lovely wide perching spot. He could even spot the cracks of the Aperture, winding all the way around the Celestial that he stood inside. And he could see the monks all going about their usual business.. except for a few, running around and yelling out to others. Seemed something interesting was brewing, though knowing the monks, they'd most likely just go after him, if he even went close and tried to investigate. Monks business and all that junk. Stupid monks, why couldn't they be more friendly like the priests and everyone else.. sometimes he wondered how the city even managed to function with all of the monks constantly belittling and arguing at each-other. Perhaps it was the reason that there were the Celestials.. although from what he'd heard about them, it seemed that even the Celestials were constantly arguing over tiny things. Perhaps it would be better if Nyka itself split into four different cities and went about their own things in their own ways so that everyone could be happy. Or they could just cut out the middle man and go to war until whoever remained kept the city for themselves. It was bound to happen sooner or later. With the ways he'd seen them fighting around the city, it was a miracle that the wars hadn't begun already. Or perhaps they were already running and nobody even knew it.

Oh well. While the monks were busy elsewhere, doing their usual fighting and bellowing and scowling and.. all the other things that the monks did, he could practice some more of his acrobatic skills. He'd need them all for when he returned to Syliras. He'd always told himself that it was one of the greatest issues that he'd probably ever face, the other knights and all of their knowledge in weapons.. he just needed to be faster than them. First, there were stretches, although he probably didn't really need them - no muscles after all. Faster.. quicker.. more nimble.. more flexible.. he let those words slowly flood his mind, until they became a chant, filling his little squirrely head.. and suddenly Archailist launched himself like an invisible catapult had released him off into the city, on all-four paws; running across the narrow ledge of the top of the pointed roof, aiming for the next one with what little time he had. There wasn't much of a gap, but he wasn't actually aimed at that one in particular, no.. which was why he crossed it without little more than a small trip, not that it should have been too hard anyway. No, the one that came next was the one that the squirrel wanted to try, because it was over a fairly busy street and had a fairly wide gap across it - one that wouldn't be impossible.. but it was certainly going to stretch the squirrels ability. Usually, he'd just take the closest rooftop across if he needed to move quickly, but he needed to extend himself. He ran for it at full speed and at the very edge, he set both fore-paws firmly on the roof and pulled his hind-paws between them, both off the ground, so they could plant firmly on the very rim. And from there, all of the power slowly built up.. further, and further, and then.. jump!

The squirrel soared. Arms outstretched, legs outstretched, even his tail spread as wide as possible, trying to grasp for the other roof just a short distance away to any normal human.. barely a streets distance across. And he.. well, he nearly made it to the roof. But he didn't, and as soon as he realized that he had to try and reorient himself to stop the impact. It didn't work all too well either, and his chest and torso splattered over the floor, just out of the reach of many of the passers-by. Well.. that was embarrassing. But it left him in the perfect place to view some strange man running by - not in any monk robes, or any clothes that he'd seen a commoner wearing around the Nykan city before.. and even stranger, it seemed he was being pursued by several other monks as well. Now that.. that was definitely something that one didn't see unless there was something very suspicious going on.

by **Archailist** on March 4th, 2014, 8:14 pm

My Words | Your Words | My Thoughts

He should have ignored it. But he couldn't.. not with the whispers that began as soon as the group had disappeared from sight completely. Madman, they said. Lunatic. He wasn't sure what that was.. but it had his mind roaring. And of course, the monks looked like they could use a hand, yelling and cursing as they were to keep up.. why shouldn't he help them with that? He'd have to remain inconspicuous, but being a squirrel, it shouldn't have been an issue. No no, just a little

It took a while to reform his body, slowly reshaping the arms and the legs, and the torso with all of its mottling and the little details. He couldn't consciously control the reformation unfortunately, because he'd never really put much effort into manipulation of his body. More of it was always centered on learning how to perform his acrobatics - the one thing that could always set him apart not only from the humans but the Pycons as well. What good would he ever be if he could only flaunt what every other Pycon in all of Mizahar would also be able to perform? What good would he be to prove himself then?

Regardless; once it was back again, he immediately set off down the street - he didn't bother climbing the rooftops yet, he needed a good place to start climbing after all, if he wanted to get a decent speed building up; not to mention that climbing wasn't something to be rushed, even if this was a special occasion. When he finally did find a suitable building, one with plenty of windows to grapple, he set to work as quickly as possible by running up the edge of the wall a short distance and immediately grabbing for the lowest window-sill. There he hung, until he could power his torso up to a decent vantage point and climb up to his feet on the sill, and his stubby paws gripping the small holds of the pane. The grapples became the rungs of a ladder, that he could use in order to climb all the way up to the top rim of the window, and from there, up from there to the second window on the floor above.. or he would have, if not for a sudden slip that sent him plummeting back down until he could narrowly catch the frame of the window below, more out of sheer reflex than anything conscious. He was not a large squirrel, but in terms of the clay that he was made from, he was a dense squirrel... and the edge of the wooden pane had unfortunately broken as he'd reached up, causing the edge to sag and his grip to slip away. No matter, it got him up and held in place long enough for him to make a short leap up to the second window.. even though he knew now that time was quickly slipping away. He needed to find a vantage point!

The second window, scaled like the first, finally led to the roof. A flat thing, like many others in the city, that made it easy to get a full sprint off, but unfortunately meant that it was also lower than many of the other roofs. He should have picked a different house. Nevertheless, from there, he could look down over the roofs edge and onto the streets below, and from there eavesdrop on the commotion still echoing through the red-brick alleyways and follow it in a series of quick sprints over the rooftops - always making sure to take the shortest route possible after his previous.. escapade. After all, a series fall from this height was the last thing he wanted to happen. A damn collapse right in the middle of the street, right when he was supposed to be the secret savior of Nyka, protecting it from the devilish people that would threaten it! Squashed by the feet of the civilians that he was supposed to be protecting from these horrible cultists that would dare threaten them! Although... why they would threaten it, that was still completely beyond him. But it also didn't matter!

Around a corner, and he could catch just a short glimpse of them. The small crowd of Nykans, pushing past anyone else that happened to be in their way, followed by yelling and making more yelling in return. They seemed to be heading West, out of the city, though; he needed to get their fast, but the monks were much faster than he was.. and they had a direct run, even if it was laced with people. He had to jump over the damn roof-tops to follow them, and it was much harder.. and much more time-consuming, especially when he came across an especially long gap between streets after a long line of identical and tightly-clustered buildings that broke abruptly. The monks continued straight on unhindered by such issues, after the running man in dark red robes.. and he couldn't possibly make the jump, not after the last attempt that he'd made, and the narrow miss from earlier on. He couldn't possibly push himself to such exertions. His breath was heaving after only a short run after them.

There was a way, though.. he'd just need to get out over the edge of the sign that hung from the wall. "Blinding Lights Studio", it said.. but even after he managed to very carefully lower himself down onto the narrow iron pole and wobble his way along with his tail held out for balance, jump onto the next building over and scale up the wall to the roof, the odd man and the Nykans giving chase were all but long-gone. The squirrel quietly cursed his own damn bad luck for not managing to catch the cultist, even if he had been at a severe disadvantage for such a long stretch of the run. Though, he guessed it was for the best.. and surely the Nykan monks wouldn't let the same man back in again, not by a long shot. Unless the man already lived in Nyka, although that was highly improbable anyway.. a lunatic? In Nyka? Well, he couldn't draw that conclusion, he didn't even know what a damn lunatic was, or what he'd done for everyone to be whispering about it. Maybe he was doing something weird, even by Nykan standards? Must have been something religious that the other monks didn't approve of.

And anyway... well, it wasn't like the squirrel knew much about close combat. Or long combat. Or any combat.

by **Archailist** on March 4th, 2014, 8:40 pm

My Words | Your Words | My Thoughts

Even though he shouldn't have beaten himself up over it, he still did. It didn't matter, he should have been focused on more knightly concerns.. like learning his damn acrobatics, which had been long forgotten. If he'd known better acrobatics, if he'd been faster in his running, and climbing, and his damn work in acrobatics, he would have easily caught up with the man. If he could just actually commit to something rather than constantly get side-tracked by everything else that came his way, he could make out to be a pretty good Syliran Knight. And he would, he told himself.. he just needed more practice. So, more practice he would get from it. He was sure of it. He was positive. Yes.. in fact, he'd start right now!

No more running around on rooftops, he told himself sternly while carefully sliding himself down the edge of the building, making sure to take firm grips all the while.. although on the smooth stone, there was still a lot of slipping and sliding, and a bit of a fall to the ground that he had to catch himself from. Now, he was actually going to try something that he'd seldom ever done before, simply because it seemed so stupid to do in the first place. He'd try it anyway though - running on the ground. Around all of the monks that were passing by. If he could make it from here.. and that was the entrance to the city.. to the Hostel, then he'd call it a day. If not.. well, then he was going keep on working at it until he could make it all the way through every Quarter in the city, and back again, unscathed.

Four paws would be the best.. they would be the fastest, he rationalised. And with just that, he set off at a quick run, keeping as close as possible to the edges of the houses and ducking down underneath the doors in case a monk decided to unexpectedly walk out into the open and in his way. Thankfully, the first few streets went easily enough. But the next few became harder. There were garbed monks, all in the robes, walking about with their daily jobs, some of them with small mountains of wood and iron and others just cleaning up the streets with brooms, or taking other odd jobs. Being the West, of course the majority were doing the former.. carrying about weapons, or crafting materials to here and there about the city. This meant that they were slower, though.. and he could quickly pass between them on their way. Left of a thin monk carrying some iron breastplate.. right of a muscular monk carrying a very large hammer.. left, right, between the legs of a lanky monk with nothing but a few small daggers. Everywhere he looked, there were monks doing every job imaginable.. well, not really imaginable, but they were doing a lot.

And not a single one walked into him. And he didn't let himself get in the way of them. It was much easier than he'd thought it would be, in all honesty.. he actually found himself trying out something new, on the way. A small collection of boxes had been stacked at the edge of the street, and funnily enough, they seemed to make a ramp. So without further ado, he ran straight up them and leaped into the air. Like a bird. All of the rush, all of the adrenaline made him feel light-headed and slightly giddy.

by **Archailist** on March 4th, 2014, 8:54 pm

My Words | Your Words | My Thoughts

It was bound to happen. He'd even go so far as to call it 'inevitable'. A monk happened to step out, right at that moment, in front of the Pycon. There was nothing he could do, not even curl up.. just take the impact with a heavy grunt, although it certainly wasn't as bad as the monk that stood there and suddenly found the equivalent of a brick slamming into his side. It surprised the squire more than it did the man, most likely.. although Arch wasn't surprised about the impact. He was surprised because the monk looked pretty damn muscular.. carrying a full selection of armor, from greaves to a body-plate and helmet, and all accounts of belts for a set of studded armor on top of that. The squirrel had never really gone into all-out combat before.. and he guessed that the time would come for that when he was in the Knights, or even as their squires, but he hadn't done it yet. And he'd never tested his power. And without even trying, he'd seemed to do a bit of damage to a rather powerful-looking monk.

This, though. This wasn't the time for testing that. Especially not on the very large, very intimidating monk that now scowled down on him angrily and began yeling almost immediately, turning several heads in his direction as well. Oh petch, now he'd done it. "Hey! Watch where you're going, oversized rat!" yelled the monk, eyes ablaze as he glanced down to the scattered armor plates and back to the squirrel.. except the squirrel was already running as fast as possible away from the monk, only glancing quickly over his shoulder to return the shout with a quick "Sorry!" Nope, he definitely wasn't going to be visiting the Western Quarter any time soon.. especially when he looked over his shoulder again and found the monk running after him. And soon enough, a few more. Petch, now he was a cultist!

He ran as fast as his stubby little paws could carry, straight through the streets and bolting straight for the Celestial. If he could make it there and hopefully hide away somewhere, the monks would soon forget he existed.. if not, well, it was time to find another place to sleep! Thankfully, though.. or rather not really.. when he began to get closer to the Celestial and the bridge that led to it, the Cursed Bridge, the streets began to get more and more crowded with other monks who either didn't see the situation as much of their concern or backed away quickly. The former, he could use to his advantage.. with their slow walking, he watched, glanced over his shoulder to check that the monks were still following.. and then ran straight between two monks walking down in the opposite direction, as close as he dared, and then right up close to another, and finally rounded the corner for the final front to the bridge.

The sign of his victory came in a clattering as the monks tangled themselves with the others traveling in the opposite direction.. and more were coming, although he was more preoccupied with not being stepped on by now, as more of the big-feet monks pushed their way out into the streets and his running slowed to a crawl. He struggled to jump between legs, over feet.. and even then, there were close-calls when someone nearly stepped on his tail. At least it all thinned out as soon as he made it to the bridge.. and by then, the monks had lost sight of him.. or it seemed that way. He wasn't going to tempt fate and go back to make sure. No no, he turned and began running straight for the Hostel. He'd continue training another day, since he'd failed. And learned a valuable lesson.

Continued here.

by **Balderdash** on June 10th, 2014, 3:47 am

Delicious rewards! Happy days and jubilation!

You! :

Y'know, your threads are always just a joy to read. Thank you for this one!

If you have any questions or concerns about this grade, please PM me. A happy you is a happy Balderdash!

Skill	XP Awarded
Acrobatics	5
Observation	1

Closed Backflips are Harder than they Look.