4th day of spring, 514 AV
Bitt groaned softly as he pushed open the door to his small, windowless dormitory in the Stormhold Citadel. Living as a squire in Syliras was not at all how Bitt had envisioned it. The air here was so dirty, it stank too. Thankfully Bitt was able to get some relatively fresh air in the courtyards some of his training took place in; that and some natural light. Bitt thought he would get used to it soon enough. Whether or not it was something Bitt wanted to get used to was another story.
Bitt's mentor, Crowe, was brutal in his training regime. He was strict to say the least and was not at all tolerant of any attempts to cut corners or rush things. Bitt appreciated this aspect of his patron; he liked to do something properly. That didn't mean that Bitt didn't hurt in places he didn't even know he had; it just meant that he was able to tolerate it. Just thinking of being sore caused the various welts on Bitt's back to come to the forefront of his mind. Needles of pain shot through him; he would be sleeping on his stomach tonight.
Thankfully he didn't use any equipment in his training today or he would have had to polish, sharpen and generally maintain it. With a great force of effort he pulled himself onto his bed and lay face-down. It would still be a while before he could go and grab something to eat so he decided to practice the breathing exercises he was being taught. In through the nose, out through the mouth. In through the nose, out through the mouth. The simple repetition calmed him and helped Bitt ignore the pain in his back. His patron said he would give him something to put on them tomorrow, but he would have to suffer tonight. The thought of tomorrow was a bleak one.
Bitt groaned softly as he pushed open the door to his small, windowless dormitory in the Stormhold Citadel. Living as a squire in Syliras was not at all how Bitt had envisioned it. The air here was so dirty, it stank too. Thankfully Bitt was able to get some relatively fresh air in the courtyards some of his training took place in; that and some natural light. Bitt thought he would get used to it soon enough. Whether or not it was something Bitt wanted to get used to was another story.
Bitt's mentor, Crowe, was brutal in his training regime. He was strict to say the least and was not at all tolerant of any attempts to cut corners or rush things. Bitt appreciated this aspect of his patron; he liked to do something properly. That didn't mean that Bitt didn't hurt in places he didn't even know he had; it just meant that he was able to tolerate it. Just thinking of being sore caused the various welts on Bitt's back to come to the forefront of his mind. Needles of pain shot through him; he would be sleeping on his stomach tonight.
Thankfully he didn't use any equipment in his training today or he would have had to polish, sharpen and generally maintain it. With a great force of effort he pulled himself onto his bed and lay face-down. It would still be a while before he could go and grab something to eat so he decided to practice the breathing exercises he was being taught. In through the nose, out through the mouth. In through the nose, out through the mouth. The simple repetition calmed him and helped Bitt ignore the pain in his back. His patron said he would give him something to put on them tomorrow, but he would have to suffer tonight. The thought of tomorrow was a bleak one.
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