20th of Winter, 509.
Arch had spent most of the day frolicking around the forest, as usual, before he returned home. It was a typical day, as far as the squirrel was concerned - spending all of his time running with the squirrels, flitting about and trying to simply keep up with all of them. There was nothing he liked doing better, in fact. He'd do it for his entire life, if he actually could; the only thing that stopped him was the gathering darkness as Syna's light began to fade from the sky. Darkness brought all kinds of creatures out into the forest to prey on the smaller animals. Arch wasn't exactly a target, considering that his body would immediately be rejected by any wannabe predator that mistook him for a squirrel. No monster would want to feed off a lump of clay but that didn't mean that the squirrel wanted to take his chances on the off-chance that one eventually did appear and attempted to get a good bite on his head. Kriitals and the like, the blasted creatures, were always to be avoided. However, everything changed on his way back to the home.
On the way, he saw his father on the ground far below, and immediately the rather diminutive clay creature swung his body around the branch he was currently perched upon, and immediately grappled the edge of the trunk of the tree instead. With his head pointing towards the ground, he steadily climbed down the tree with the bark acting as his support. The clay of his fingers was able to deform and push into the tiny gaps in the bark, rooting itself firmly in place and ensuring that his grip would never slip from the tree.. as long as he made sure to keep the threads thick enough to support his weight when they were all combined together. Otherwise the stems would simply snap away and he'd tumble straight to the ground. "Father!"
His father, Stone, must have heard him because the elder Pycon tilted his head up and smiled. Strangely, the closer the squirrel got to the greyed Pycon, the more obvious it was that there was something particular about him. In his hand was a strange, amber pole that stretched far longer than a normal spear would, like he'd seen in the hands of some of the knights and humans. It was still topped with a shiny metal tip, but it seemed to bounce about a little as he walked. And strangest of all.. when the squirrel finally made it to the floor of the forest and flipped his body so that he could land on his feet again, he could only stare at the strange pole as it was.. held out to him. "I know that you wanted to become a knight. I guessed that you would need a weapon, if you wanted that dream to come true." It was a beautiful weapon, there could be no doubt about that.. but the squirrel still had no idea what it was or how to use it, even though he was holding it in his own two paws. It felt quite heavy.. but also as if it yielded to his grip as he squeezed it and gently swung it. Even the lightest pushes sent the tip flailing back and forth thanks to the weight of the metal.
"It's a gift, for you. It's called a Py-Pole." He thought he remembered hearing something about the weapons. They were Pycon-specific.. there were no other races in all of Mizahar that could wield them in the ways that the Pycon could. "I used to use one of them, when I was exploring the world. Which means that I can give you a few lessons in how to use it, before you leave. Think of it as some survival training, before you leave. Something to use for self-defense." It was just what the squirrel needed, in fact. He'd been planning to focus on befriending the larger races but he had to admit that he didn't know how long it would be, before he found one of the larger people to help him. This would be the essential back-up, in case everything went wrong or if he needed to protect himself from one of the larger people that didn't like him. Or if he didn't like them.
Arch had spent most of the day frolicking around the forest, as usual, before he returned home. It was a typical day, as far as the squirrel was concerned - spending all of his time running with the squirrels, flitting about and trying to simply keep up with all of them. There was nothing he liked doing better, in fact. He'd do it for his entire life, if he actually could; the only thing that stopped him was the gathering darkness as Syna's light began to fade from the sky. Darkness brought all kinds of creatures out into the forest to prey on the smaller animals. Arch wasn't exactly a target, considering that his body would immediately be rejected by any wannabe predator that mistook him for a squirrel. No monster would want to feed off a lump of clay but that didn't mean that the squirrel wanted to take his chances on the off-chance that one eventually did appear and attempted to get a good bite on his head. Kriitals and the like, the blasted creatures, were always to be avoided. However, everything changed on his way back to the home.
On the way, he saw his father on the ground far below, and immediately the rather diminutive clay creature swung his body around the branch he was currently perched upon, and immediately grappled the edge of the trunk of the tree instead. With his head pointing towards the ground, he steadily climbed down the tree with the bark acting as his support. The clay of his fingers was able to deform and push into the tiny gaps in the bark, rooting itself firmly in place and ensuring that his grip would never slip from the tree.. as long as he made sure to keep the threads thick enough to support his weight when they were all combined together. Otherwise the stems would simply snap away and he'd tumble straight to the ground. "Father!"
His father, Stone, must have heard him because the elder Pycon tilted his head up and smiled. Strangely, the closer the squirrel got to the greyed Pycon, the more obvious it was that there was something particular about him. In his hand was a strange, amber pole that stretched far longer than a normal spear would, like he'd seen in the hands of some of the knights and humans. It was still topped with a shiny metal tip, but it seemed to bounce about a little as he walked. And strangest of all.. when the squirrel finally made it to the floor of the forest and flipped his body so that he could land on his feet again, he could only stare at the strange pole as it was.. held out to him. "I know that you wanted to become a knight. I guessed that you would need a weapon, if you wanted that dream to come true." It was a beautiful weapon, there could be no doubt about that.. but the squirrel still had no idea what it was or how to use it, even though he was holding it in his own two paws. It felt quite heavy.. but also as if it yielded to his grip as he squeezed it and gently swung it. Even the lightest pushes sent the tip flailing back and forth thanks to the weight of the metal.
"It's a gift, for you. It's called a Py-Pole." He thought he remembered hearing something about the weapons. They were Pycon-specific.. there were no other races in all of Mizahar that could wield them in the ways that the Pycon could. "I used to use one of them, when I was exploring the world. Which means that I can give you a few lessons in how to use it, before you leave. Think of it as some survival training, before you leave. Something to use for self-defense." It was just what the squirrel needed, in fact. He'd been planning to focus on befriending the larger races but he had to admit that he didn't know how long it would be, before he found one of the larger people to help him. This would be the essential back-up, in case everything went wrong or if he needed to protect himself from one of the larger people that didn't like him. Or if he didn't like them.
