Closed [The Training Grounds] Pulling Strings.

[Archailist]

My Words | Your Words | My Thoughts

44th of Fall, 514.

The squirrel had gathered a small crowd during his lesson with Ser Iros. It wasn't something that he was particularly shamed about any more - if anything, it was a pretty normal experience. The Akalak knew by now that he couldn't match up with the squirrels speed, and yet he continued to attempt during these stubborn lessons. Archailist learned nothing throughout it all - what was he supposed to learn, from fighting the same man over and over, in the same conditions? It was just the same moves, over and over again. Even when the Akalak activated his Evantia aura, as he'd already done a good ten chimes ago, it made little difference. He stabbed over and over with the wide, ten-foot spear into the ground but every time he touched the space that the squirrel had occupied mere moments ago. He knew where the squirrel was going, but that no longer mattered - even through knowing where the squirrel was going to be, by the time he'd prepared his spear for the next stab, the squirrel had moved on yet again.

The tower shield that stood between the crimson knight and the Pycon was mere formality - at any time, the squirrel could bypass it as if it was nothing more than a door that he needed to open. His gleaming plate-mail did nothing to stem the storm of tiny fists slamming over and over again into his shins, into the backs of his knees, ankles, toes - anywhere that the squirrel could touch. They were no longer droplets of rain, but they weren't heavy enough to cause significant damage. Ser Iros had enough muscle to be able to take such hits with veritable ease, and the obnoxious amount of armour he insisted on wearing on top of it all just made it even less significant. Once again, it was little more than a stalemate. Neither of them could really cause damage to the other - the Akalak would never have a chance of actually catching the Pycon out, but at the same time, Archailist would never be able to launch a serious strike onto Iros.

They'd been going for nearly half a bell, and the man was obviously becoming worn from the constant exertion. The squirrel, likewise, was beginning to find it rather tedious, and wished he could be doing something else. He was just waiting for those sweet words to hit his non-existent ears. "Alright.. that's enough for now." There it was. The squirrel nearly lost his manners and sighed in relief, but instead kept those things to himself as he stepped back and watched the Akalak set his spear and shield in the corner. Those that had been watching began steadily clearing, but they wouldn't be going very far. "Let's see if we can find you a squire or a knight to spar against. They might have a better chance." For some reason, the squirrel doubted it with a soft sigh.

His training collected from around most of Sylira meant that he was, admittedly, a little big to be a squire. He was supposed to be fighting Captains and the like, but he never really saw them around the Training Grounds. He could only sigh, though, and glance over the assorted squires and knights in search of someone that could be taken aside for a few moments. At the same time, the crimson Akalak stood tall and mirrored the squirrel, until he spotted someone. What drove the man to choose that person in particular was completely beyond Archailist, but he wasn't going to question his superiors on such meaningless things. "You, there! You!"

[Imellion]

Imellion had been lurking in the background for the duration of the spar, head ducked slightly and nodding in agreement to every word that may have been sent in her direction, and then looking back to the ground.

So many crowds set her on edge. Slave auctions had similar crowds and a similar air of expectancy. Tension. Hounds waiting for blood. This was not particularly different. Not in her perspective, anyways. So she lingered at the back, shoulders hunched and hair slipped down in front of her eyes. Invisible. Just one of the many individuals in the crowd. Nothing special about her. Pay no attention.

But somebody did. Ser Iros, was that the Akalak's name? It seemed right. There were still many people she had not truly met yet. Not that she was an excellent remember of names either. Too many faces had come and gone to be replaced by similar ones. All a blur.

She walked forward slowly, slipping between the remainders of the crowd. Had she done something wrong? Was there some etiquette she had been unaware of? Some duty she should have been attending? Pots to wash somewhere? Had someone wished to see her?

She stopped at the front of the crowd and bowed before the one who had called her, and straightened, but still keeping her eyes lowered.

"Yes, ser? How might I serve your summons? Do you need something fetched? A message delivered? An item taken for repair?"

Were there other possibilities she might be needed for? She ticked a list off in her head. There were none she could think of. Something else perhaps? Had someone reported her slipping out into the hallway to sleep? Or the nightmares? What was it that had made him choose her? She clenched her hand, and squeezed it, focusing the racing energy into that to prevent more visible movement. No need to weaken herself by seeming too agitated. No weaknesses. No pain. Invincibility. Never let them see you vulnerable. That's how nobody will bother you. It is safety. Vulnerability goads them on further.

No. She took a short breath. Priskil help me. Help me find the courage to be different. She was falling into her old self again. This was a different place, wasn't it? She wouldn't have to be the same as before. These were heroes. She could trust them, couldn't she? They'd understand, right? She was at a loss for the answer of her own question. So far she could, but that didn't meant it wasn't all a ploy just waiting to revealed. All she could do was wait to find out.

[Archailist]

My Words | Your Words | My Thoughts

To each task the girl listed as she was drawn forwards, the towering crimson Akalak shook off dismissively, until she was finally quiet. "You know, if you stopped talking and let me tell you what I wanted from you, without forcing you to guess through every single thing that I might possibly need, we might be able to get something done before Leth's light appears." There was a mild rebuke in his tone, but he didn't follow up with it - he didn't need to, really. "Where's your patron? Where's your weapon, your shield?" Suddenly it was the Akalak playing question time with the poor girl, while simultaneously glancing around the dispersing crowds in an attempt to find the one that would hopefully step forwards. He couldn't very well just steal the girl from her patron for five chimes without asking them, and neither was he going to send her in bare-handed against the Pycon that had taken the role of a patient statue, arms folded over his chest and carefully watching the girl with pupil-less, unblinking eyes.

It was unfortunate, that Ser Iros was not particularly patient. At least, not when he was still reeling from a battle with the squirrel in which he could not emerge victorious. If he'd lost, he likely would have sent all of Stormhold Castle gasping with the curses he could pull out of his mouth. "Bah, no matter." He didn't even know what weapons the girl would take, but he turned around, picked up his spear and shield, and shoved them straight against her chest. There was no need for formalities and whatnot on these battlegrounds, that was for certain. The hulking man had no issue grappling her by the shoulders and twisting her around until she was face-to-face with the diminutive squirrel stood waiting patiently, if she wasn't up for doing it herself. "Consider this a free training session. I want you to spar him."

He jabbed an armoured thumb down at the clay rodent, and then looked over her one more time. "You know how to use this stuff, girl? Shield, spear, poke poke?" He wasn't mocking, contrary to what it might have looked like. There was still a bit of a joking tone to his voice and a small smile on his face, but most of it was hidden behind the deep, booming baritone that came from deep in his chest - as well as the fact that he all but towered over the girl like a mature oak over a daisy. "Squire Archailist, what are you doing, standing there? Come on, stand to attention, ready yourself!" At the order, he shifted and rolled his shoulders, limbering himself up - not that there was really a need to, since the squirrel lacked any muscles.. or bones, for that matter.

"I've got a little game for the two of you." Arch immediately felt his non-existent heart sinking at the prospect. "Squire Archailist.. your job is to touch - and I mean gently, I don't want you giving this girl bruises - the body part that I shout out. And you, girl.. what's your name? I want you to stop him, by any means necessary. Use the shield, stab him with the spear.. preferably the latter." At that, Arch turned and shot him a harsh glare, and the man seemed to calm and regain his composure.. somewhat. It was strange to see him moving so quickly, given his usually calm and reserved nature. At least, when he wasn't talking about damnable body-building. "First place is the forehead. Go!"

[Imellion]

Imellion dropped her head, cheeks beginning to flush at the rebuke. Yes, it was mild, but it was there. This was going to be a different place. A different her. One where she was going to be better. One where she wouldn't need to be chastised every time she did anything. So much for that plan. Looked like she'd continue to be an embarrassment and disappointment for the foreseeable future.

She opened her mouth to answer the first question, but then shut it again as the questions kept rolling forth through her ears. Was this part of the rebuke as well? Some twist to show why she had done badly? Or simply unintentional? She hadn't been able to tell. As for her patron, well, she had sent Imellion out to become more familiar with the citadel, as she had spent most of her time so far with the healers as they tended her many physical scars and aliments. Her weight had been of primary concern for some reason. Too skinny, they had said. Not enough muscle.

Then she had spear and shield thrust forward for her to grasp, and she did so unconsciously, sagging under the unexpected weight. It was almost comical. The spear was almost exactly twice her height and the tip waved back and forth as she tried to control it. The shield was clearly over-sized for her small frame. Not as badly as it would be for a Pycon, but still too large for her to effectively wield it.

She looked up, startled at the pronouncement. Spar a Pycon? With equipment she could barely hold? When she had just seen the full knight fight to a draw. What could she possibly even attempt? Shield first. Keep it between her opponent and her forehead since that was the first target. Then try and balance the spear.

The spearhead dropped towards the ground, hovering about two feet of the ground. Imellion left it there for the moment, and arched her spine to bring her left arm up, trying to raise the shield. No good. Too heavy for her to really use. It could work as a blunt barrier for this though. Just stick her forehead against it so it can't be touched. Like that would work.

Time to act. She shuffled a few steps forward, nearly tripping over her boots, and wincing as the bottom edge of the shield knocked against her leg. It stung, but wasn't as bad as some other injuries she had received. She struck out towards Arch with the spear, moving in an arc to bring it around towards him. The tip buried in the ground and she pulled it out again, before attempting a defensive position.

[Archailist]

My Words | Your Words | My Thoughts

The Akalak had no intention of rebuking the girl - he was just too large, and loud, to really hear her answers. Answers could be given in her own time, if she was going to answer them at all. A knight was measured by his strength, and the strength to carry whatever weapons one had available was very important indeed - if he had sympathy for the girl as she struggled to heave the heavy weapons up and stop them from scraping along the floor, he did a very good job at masking it as he took a few steps back to clear out some space. Not because he didn't want to get in the way of the small Pycon looming closer to Imellion, but because he was very wary of how clumsy the girls grasp on the weapon was. Whether or not she had any power in her swings, there was a blunt metal tip narrow enough to slip into someones socket and wrench free an eyeball at a moments notice.

Where the crimson Akalak was altogether fast and stern, the Pycon kept himself quiet and waited for the girl to ready herself before he began to make his move. She was clumsy, but the weapons were big - incredibly big, compared to the squirrel. Likely if she had the strength to lift the shield into the air and throw it down with him in the middle, he wouldn't have time to move out of the way before it squished him - it was simply too large and wide. He could probably use it to his advantage, unless she played smart. He could use it as a climbing frame, ideally.. or he could simply wind around it and behind her, to test whether or not she'd be able to drag the cumbersome thing around fast enough to keep the shield between the squirrel and herself.

The decision was made for him, in the end. The spear was coming straight down for him. Wind was brushing against his right side; it wasn't a blizzard, but high up on the upper levels of the castle, it was more than an early-morning breeze would be on ground level. Weight shifted over to his right foot while his left foot raised just an inch off the ground, before he switched positions and pushed off to the left, following the wind. It likely looked as though he glided almost a foot to the left of the first jolt of the spear, but in truth his feet were just about skimming the ground as the gentle push followed with the breeze and helped drag an extra inch of air-time out.

He was still gauging her abilities, and overshot the jump, exerting more than he likely needed to. By the time she'd pulled the tip of the spear back from the sand, his right foot touched the ground again, halting his little glide. If I'd timed it right, I would have gained precious ticks. Something to remember for the future. For now, with weight shifted to lean heavily on his right foot, he pushed forwards and broke into what little constituted for a sprint. At a mere six inches, his stride was miniscule, and though he was trying his best, it still wasn't very fast at all when compared to a human running with the same momentum. The defensive position that she took was perfect; the shield was in the open, and after a brief leap, he latched onto its front with all four of his paws, before beginning to climb. Now, climb up to the top, and touch the forehead. He didn't know how many of these Ser Iros intended for the squirrel to do, but he doubted it would be too many.

[Imellion]

Sera Lynia drifted along the edge of the crowd, drifting through the corner of Imellion's vision. Archailist was the focus of her vision, leaping up. Then he was flying. Squirrels couldn't fly, could they? They didn't have wings. Or did he know some secret knowledge to allow him to levitate? Some of the magics she had heard spoken about?

Then he was darting ahead, in a sprint, although it seemed to be a fairly slow sprint. It was understandable, after all the Pycon was only six inches tall. That hardly aided speed. It was probably a hindrance. Then he leapt and landed on the shield. She staggered back from the impact, nearly tripping over her own feet, but managed to regain her balance, ruining her stance in the process.

This was ridiculous. She shouldn't have even attempted to use the shield. It weighed almost as much as she did. Moving was, well, like wearing a chain around her ankle. Her awareness shifts, away from the present, spiralling backwards through the fibers of time.

She stumbled beneath the weight of a water bucket dragging on her arm, sloshing it over the side. Somebody cursed at her and a pebble bounced off her shoulder. Pain flickered around her shoulder, but she pushed it away. No time for that now. No weakness. That was invincibility. Nobody could her that way. Or at least, they didn't think they could. She took another step, chains clinking. Walking in a bog, restrained, trapped. A caged animal. A pet. Her shoulders slumped.

Then she snapped back to the present, and slipped her arm out of the shield straps, shoving it forward. Her hand moved to the spear shaft, shifting it to a two handed grip. It was still unwieldy and swung somewhat wildly, but she could control it more to an extent. She stepped back several more steps, and bent her knees to lower her center of gravity.

Lynia gave a small nod from the background, and then stood, arms crossed behind her back. Imellion gave a small smile of relief. Approval was still such a strange feeling. It faded away quickly though as she heard some snickers from the crowd. Her face flushed. Still an embarrassment. No weakness. She set her teeth and forced the expressions off her face.

[Archailist]

My Words | Your Words | My Thoughts

Arch was used to fighting the normal spectrum of fighters, either travelling from other cities and passing visits in the Fighters Pit, or the occasional knight or squire from the Training Grounds. None of them would ever willingly drop their shield or sword just for the advantage - apart from the one time he'd actually suggested that a particular squire would be better off simply dropping his sword and using his shield as a weapon, and he'd actually complied. Just like then, it was now - an odd, slightly surreal feeling as the shield that he'd grasped onto with all of his weight began tipping forwards as the girls support left. Oh shyke. It wasn't a small shield, not by any stretch of the imagination. He wasn't a very big squirrel, either. It was all he could do to brace his feet against the edge and use it to build up tension in the precious ticks before the thing slammed into the ground. The leap just about pushed him free of the shield as it clattered to the ground, throwing up a heavy cloud of dust that practically blanketed the squirrel and left him coughing on the ground, trying to catch his breath.

Alright... that was unexpected. His eyes, while lacking any pupil or iris, or even eyelids for that matter stung like Hai and his paws lifted to try and wipe away at the dust and sand irritating them. Those snickers likely weren't even for the girl - they were for seeing the squirrel brought so low by the girl in what had likely, hopefully, been a completely accident. If she'd planned and timed that correctly, then goodness knew he'd met his match and then some. Not many people really knew what to do when faced with an enemy that was barely six inches high and could see attacks coming as though ticks became chimes.

When he finally rose again to stare at the girl, a new grin fixed itself on his muzzle. Two-handed, huh? "Don't think it'll be that easy." This time, he counselled himself to take things slowly, carefully.. and slowly began a walk towards her. The longer he studied her, the worse he felt really for dragging her into this session, even if it wasn't his fault. Goodness knew if the girl even really wanted to do it at all, and just because Ser Iros was a knight, didn't mean that he could just grab up any squire that he so pleased to drag them into a training session. If not literally, then at least morally. "Keep your guard up. Be prepared for attacks from all angles, not just down below." Just as he passed on that very important tidbit of advice, he broke into a run again, this time for her now-open legs. A good hit against either ankle should surely be enough to send her down.. and if not, then a quick hit to the opposite will remedy it.

[Imellion]

44 Fall

Easy? Was he crazy? Her shoulders burned, and there was an odd ache in her left shoulder where she had attempted to use the shield. She shifted it experimentally. Something clicked. Had something broken? Or been dislocated? What if it had to be amputated? What would she do then? Beg? Stop. Her arm still worked. There was no blood. She was probably fine.

Then he started walking towards her, and she tensed up again, moving her feet to try and take more of the spear's weight and awkwardness. Guard up in all directions? He was six inches tall. How could he attack from above? Could he really jump that high? Then he started rushing her. She jabbed the spear in his direction, but then started pinwheeling backwards to try and avoid him.

She tripped, fell and landed heavily, knocking the wind from her lungs like a bellows smashed by a hammer. Her spear got tangled up in her limbs, so she just lay there for several seconds, stunned as he approached, trying to untangle the events of the last few seconds. Coughs tore from her lips as she started to breathe again.

More snickers from the crowd, but they tried to muffle them, by the sound of it. This was not some exciting spar they may have hoped for. It was someone just learning to fight try and go against someone with much more skill and experience. Not much fun to watch, except for those who enjoyed watching embarrassing memories happen in real time.

Sera Lynia moved through the crowd, a frown lingering on her face, and she stopped along the edge. Imellion tried to watch her, but the angle was all wrong. Was she a disappointment to her too? Or an embarrassment? Lynia was her patron after all, so Imellion's skill reflected her teaching. Would she get kicked out or abandoned again? If her family had gotten rid of her when she was young, why wouldn't a woman she had known less than a year?

What if her family hadn't gotten rid of her though? She had seen the slavers kill people to abduct valuable individuals before. Maybe it had been the same for her? Now was not the time to consider that though. She pushed herself half up, trying to untangle in time to escape.


.

[Archailist]

My Words | Your Words | My Thoughts

The jab was messy - it swung out to the side and didn't have the same force in it that Ser Iros had often displayed. It didn't even require much movement to have the thing swing far and stick in the dirt a few steps away from the sprinting squirrel - even if it had caught him, he had to question whether or not he could have brushed it off in the first place. Now this is just getting strange.. and sad. The more the fight went on, if it could even be described as a fight in the first place, the more blatantly obvious it became that the girl simply wasn't accustomed to the behemoth toothpick that'd been handed to her. This could be her first time ever using one of these weapons before. What on earth made this seem fair?

It didn't take long after that for the girl to begin backing away, to keep distance.. but then she lost footing and suddenly she was falling all by herself. The squirrel never stopped his sprint, but instead of taking advantage of the situation he turned and bolted around the side to her head. "Are you alright, there?" He would have offered her a hand to get back up, but given his size, he was pretty much powerless to watch as she coughed and struggled with herself. Pretty easy to say she's not had any experience. Any fighting experience at all.. unlikely. He felt incredibly bad for her; at first it could have been nerves, or just a bad day.

Ser Eylin was having none of it though. She wasn't even his squire, but that didn't matter to him. "Come on, get up! He's supposed to be attacking the forehead, and you're lying on your back, giving him the perfect opportunity!" Even in this state, he wasn't going to turn around and attack the squirrel - the last time he'd tried to mock the squirrel, he'd been thrown straight into the Well of Filth and left there to sulk. He knew better now. That didn't mean that he'd not learned his lesson when it came to others though. "You going to just lie there and wait for him to smack you on the forehead, or are you going to get up and stop him, Left Feet?!" He seemed completely oblivious to the other knight approaching, as well.

This was going to get nasty fast. "Hey, it could be her first time. You can't blame her for not being able to handle whatever weapon you can throw at her - I know that you wouldn't be able to match with a lot of the knights here if I threw you a long-sword and fight with Sera Isana." That had him stopping for just a few moments as his red brow creased in barely-concealed anger. Now's not the place to start this. Not that he had much choice when they began their little spats. This time it wasn't about them, though.

"You know, just as well as I do, that a knight is only worth their strength. What good would it be to not ensure that squires coming to their knighthood are strong enough to hold their title at the forefront of the Order?" Here he goes again. Another rant on the knights and the Order, another lecture on the values most important. They weren't to Syliras, of course - he didn't know a single knight, barring Ser Iros and Eylin, who actually valued strength in the same way as he did. "A knight, or a squire, worth their strength is able to at least hold themselves up when it comes to a battle like this! They have the strength to face their foes, and face their weaknesses, whatever they may be!" He could see a few of their spectators glancing between one-another in complete confusion, and frankly he didn't blame them.

[Imellion]

"Are you alright, there?" Her opponent asked, actually stopping to wait while she was on the ground, which was the opposite of what she had expected. She had expected him to go ahead and make the tap. Wasn't that what most individuals would do? That's what the caravaneers would do, without a do. She'd seen them knife enemies when they were down. A tap on the forehead was even less challenging. It seemed Sylirans actually lived up to their belief. While she had grown more accustomed to that idea, it was still an odd one to entertain.

She nodded in response though. There were no injuries involved. Just what would have been a bruised pride if she still had any pride left. Fortunately, or perhaps unfortunately, she did not. Instead, she pulled herself to her feet as Ser Iros broke into his tirade. She stiffened for a moment, breath catching in her throat, but she stood again, face carefully blank. There wasn't even a flicker in her cheek muscles. She retrieved the spear, and then frowned in confusion as the subject changed entirely.

She remained quiet though, awaiting the command or signal to resume. No need to do what might alienate him further by acting of her own initiative. Although, that might not be so dangerous here as it was with the caravan. It might even be encouraged. It didn't mean she was just going to go ahead and risk it. Not yet anyways.

But then Sera Lynia walked over, leaning on her cane and a bemused smile tugging at her lips. She went to rest a hand on Imellion's shoulder, but then stopped after a brief moment as Imellion tensed up slightly.

"You have done well for someone of your skill," She said softly, and Imellion shuffled her feet, a light flush creeping across her cheeks. Lynia went on. "But to make the spear more usable, couch it under your arm, and move it back so the butt can counterbalance the head."

Imellion made the adjustment and the spear was less cumbersome, towards the front anyways. It was still extraordinarily awkward to move with several feet of wood protruding behind her. She kept waiting to clock someone across the face with it on accident. Sera Lynia turned her attention to Arch and Ser Iros, frowning at the argument. She cleared her throat and rapped her cane on the ground.

"Ser Iros, if you are finished engaging in what appears to be a private argument with your squire, I would take the leisure to question your assertion that a knight is only worth their strength to hold their title. There are other forms of strength." She cocked her head towards Imellion. "She has more strength than one may think at first. She's just never been allowed to use it." A frown pursed her lips, "And she has enough scars to make the most experienced sergeant knight respectful."

Imellion's face whitened at the mention of the web of scars that shone against her pale back and twisted up to her neck whenever uncovered, which was rare. She specifically wore her hair and clothes in such a way as to keep them hidden. Why had they been mentioned? Was her patron hinting at something she didn't know about? Some reference to a past event? She clenched her teeth and set her jaw, forcing her face back to blankness. Be strong. She could look it. To a small extent, given her small stature.

.