Solo [Training Grounds] Hefting Steel!

[Lorden Ladis]

13th of Spring, 515 AV

Lorden brought his right calf down into the loose, transplanted turf, that covered the bottom, of the mini-forest that was a prominent part of the Training Grounds.

As the knight's knee thrust into the air, he simultaneously swung his aching non-dominant bicep, up against the weight of the metal plates, that covered its arm. Taking a restricted breath, as the pad of his left foot collided with the leaf-covered soil, Lorden inexpertly spun on his ankle, causing all the muscles in his calf to flex, under the unnatural weight of his steel greaves. Even giving the hurried but sloppy movement, what little credit it did deserve, the knight just barely managed to rotate out the way, of a brown-bark'ed tree.

With a few clumsy hops off to the side, of the tree he had dodged, the man righted himself. Twisting his feet, and trying to keep from spraining an ankle, Lorden hefted his right knee into the air.

How long had he been running, two chimes? Three!?

Under normal circumstances, the knight might feel that the burning, that now racked through his legs and his weighted-down torso, might just feel oddly encouraging; however, the young-man was practically steaming like a fish set to roast over a fire, as his pores excreted salt-laden sweat, that was quick to coat his steel-covered skin. Needless to say, Lorden's steel-plate, did nothing to allow the moisture that tacked against his lithe form, to evaporate off of his flesh; and thus, the exoskeleton made it extremely difficult, to feel anything but extremely overheated.

The knight noted the sticky-coolness of a bead of sweat, as it rolled down from his brow, and dropped into his icy-blue right eye. At least he wasn't wearing his helmet.

And with that hopeful musing, Lorden's chest expanded halfway-out, under the confining grip of his chest plate; as he breathed, the knight all but ignored the soreness that ran through his pauldron-covered shoulders.

Pain was the name of the game! Lorden knew that sore shoulders meant nothing, in comparison to sword-gashed ones, which, in a fight his might very-well become, if he didn't wear his standard-issue plate-mail. Still, there was no use in using armor, if one didn't actively work towards maintaining some level of mobility in it.

And thus with mix of idealistic resolve, and the resignation, that came with routine filling his mind, Lorden clanked out from the small grouping of trees.

Smirking ironically with his pain, the knight whirled, and ran slowly, back in the general direction of the small grove, that he had just emerged from.

NoteTraditionally, knights did body-build. However, they did not utilize free weights, rather they used their armor and body-weight as resistance. They did strength and endurance exercise to build their frames, which were generally very well shaped. Essentially, I'm saying, that since Lorden is wearing about seventy'ish pounds of steel armor, I do believe that he should receive b-building
points, along with running, for this post. Realistically, this would build muscle, as it is a form of resistance training. ^.^

[Lorden Ladis]

13th of Spring, 515 AV

Lorden burst loudly from in-between two towering, and ancient shrubs, heaving and clanking in his steel-plate, as he jogged. The man's armor was heavy, and more than encumbering; the exercise felt right, it was what was required of him, but it didn't mean he could ignore the pain that it caused, in part, or in full.

Within a tick or two, of breaking from the small grouping of trees, that populated a small part of the training grounds, the knight came to a stop. Lorden threw his right foot forward sluggishly, and rather that allowing it to fall behind him, and throwing its non-dominant twin forward, as he had been doing previously, the knight instead planted the armored boot of the foot firmly into the sand, that he was now standing upon.

Bloody shyke, Lorden thought, as an exasperated smile framed itself on his glistening face.

He wasn't done for the day, no, not nearly so; however, he had at least earned a breather. And it was with this 'fact' in mind, that Lorden drug both of his feet through the sand, until they were approximately shoulder-width apart, before bending his torso over, and planting his hands on his steel-encased knees.

The knight's biceps heaved as they took in the reality of their reprieve. The twenty-year old took a few deep breaths, in an unwillingly-ragged fashion. Lorden might say that he didn't know much, but, if he was finding out anything, it was just how fervently one's body craved air, and thus just how important breathing was, both for life, and for one's training.

In-out, in-out; it was that simple. The knight breathed, as he confirmed to himself, and attempted to persuade his lungs, that there was plenty of air around his person. In-out. The knight sucked one last large gulp of air into his calming lungs, before he began to bend shakily down to one knee.

The steel poleyn that covered Lorden's kneecap, slid around on the tight straps that connected it to its wearer, as it and he lowered, and sunk into and shifted the sand, that covered the 'flooring' of the Grounds. As the twenty-year old's knee and foot dug into the ground, the other man's left knee bent down to sit beside it, before his torso began to lean towards the ground as well. The man kept bending down, until he could stretch his heavy steel arms out, and plant them directly in front of his two grounded legs.

Finding his balance with his hands against the ground, Lorden took a breath, as he lifted the left knee, that he had just placed against the ground, and shot the foot that was connected to it backwards. As the blue-eyed man's foot scrapped back through the sand behind him, he began to apply a confident pressure through his palms, and into the malleable sand that lay beneath them. Soon, Lorden's leg had fully extended out behind him, and, just as his palms had, the foot of said leg also began to push against the ground; as its twin began to slink back, to prop itself beside it.

Now in a basic push-up position, the man took a breath, as his stomach clenched, under the unnatural seventy pounds, that his armor distributed across his entire body. Holding oneself up in armor, could be an exercise in of itself, however, that was not what the man was aiming to do.

Reluctantly, Lorden's weighted elbows began to bend at his behest. As his form chest began to lower towards the ground methodically, the knight did his best to keep his stomach from being caved in, under the pressure of his breastplate.

He was almost there. Lorden closed his eyes, as he brought both his arms down into a ninety-degree bend. By this point, the swordsman, had all but forgotten about the sweat, that laced his form; however, even he couldn't ignore the clenching in his triceps and chest.

The pain, it was a part of it; he couldn't let it stop him.

The swordsman pushed all of the air, that populated his chest, out of his lungs, through puckered lips; and as he did, Lorden hefted himself up against the force of gravity itself.

That was one.

[Lorden Ladis]

13th of Spring, 515 AV

Lorden pushed heavily into the ground; the knight could feel the sand shifting between his fingers, as the muffled sound of the swords of training Squires and Knights, clashed all around him.

The blue-eyed swordsman locked his elbows once more, causing his pauldrons to shift loudly on his shoulders, and clang against the solid vambrace, that arched over his upper arm.

Two.

The knight sucked a heavy breath in through his stinging nostrils, as his face flared a purplish-red. The armor was so heavy, the knight wasn't sure, that he could make it to five, let alone the number, that he had set in his head.

"Thre-e," the sweating man gasped silently, as he bent back down, and strained his already pumping biceps to their limits. With a furry of breath, Lorden's armored form bounced up loudly.

Four, fiv-e, six! The knight counted out his push-ups drearily, as his temples began to pound deftly. Good gods... could he make it?

He had to.

As his arms straightened, for what Lorden counted, as the seventh time that day, the swordsman sucked in as much air, as he was capable of holding. Gaining a temporary relief from his headache, the knight lowered himself down shakily, before pushing up with mighty exhalation.

Lorden blinked, as sweat dripped off of his eyelid, and fell to darken the sand below.

Was that rep easier? Was he going crazy, or had the way that he had breathed, made things not hurt as much? It couldn't be that simple...

Shaking his head mentally, Lorden sucked in another breath, and began to allow his chest to lower. The man's arms were shaking, and his chest was just about to burst; but then, he reached a ninety-degree bend, and breathed out of his mouth.

The knight found himself completing his eighth push-up, with more effort, but less pain, that even what his first had drawn out of him. The minute relief, that flooded over the knight, as he breathed out, seemed to allow him just enough of a momentary reprieve, to clank his arms up from a bend without much thought; in fact, if he timed his exhalation, as he just had, it was almost as if, his breath pushed against the ground, and assisted him in hefting his own torso up.

[Lorden Ladis]

13th of Spring, 515 AV

Lorden forced his elbows to unbend, once more, and with a heave, until the steel-clad appendages almost straightened completely. The push-up hurt. The knight's biceps were beyond agony, as he fought against his own body-weight, and the mass of the metal exoskeleton, that he stubbornly bore.

Just one mo-

The knight's elbows unfolded, and faltered, snapping into a bend like a loosed rubber band, and sending his metal torso to clang, loudly, into the shaken sand below.

Lorden groaned silently, and slid his face against the ground tiredly, as the sand below his head, began to stick to his wet visage.

The lungs of the twenty-year old swordsman, clenched tightly, as another organ, that sat in his chest, began to fill with a surprising level of mirth. Lorden smiled ironically. Fourteen push-ups, that was all, that he had done. Then... why was he smirking?

With a thought, the knight pushed himself back up, on to his shaking palms. He was smiling, because he knew couldn't quit, because he believed that he wouldn't give in.

Lorden bent his arms, and clenched his biceps, as the shaking appendages began to spasm.

His arm jerked, the knight kept going.

His tricep screamed, still the swordsman persevered.

The edges of the twenty-year old's chest ached painfully, yet he kept working the muscles there, and lowered himself another inch.

And then, then he fell.

Lorden gritted his teeth, as his right arm tilted and all but dropped him to the side, as it refused to work for another second. Along with his dominant arm, the bones and tissue of the man's wrist, all but felt as if they were about to tear, or rather, had already begun to.

Pain aside, he couldn't just stop... Petch! He decided when he was done with something, not his arms!

Lorden pushed up once more. There was no idealism shining in the knight's eyes, no great willpower, or unshakable resolve. However, glowing in the man's azure orbs, was a stubbornness beyond measure, and a willingness to tell his body to go petch itself, and to keep pushing past his pain.

"Earrrgh," the drenched man loosed a throaty growl, as his arms once more lowered.

The knight's arms slowly began to form right angles, as his chest lowered. This was it, this was the last rep. He might have the strength to try and tackle it again, but he knew he certainly wouldn't have the will to. And yet, for one small moment in time, the push-up, was the only thing, that Lorden's will directed him to do.

As the man's chest came close to touching the sand, that was below him, he quickly flexed his exasperated muscles, and shot his form back up.

With a tired sigh, the knight pushed off against the ground with his left hand, and allowed himself to roll on to his steel-covered back.

He hadn't really quite reached his goal. Perhaps, the last push-up repetition didn't even count, since it wasn't done consecutively. But consecutive or not, Lorden knew he had done fifteen push-ups, in heavy armor, that day; that fact, could not be disputed. Next time, he'd complete all his exercises without a break, and if not then, then the next day, or the day after that.

Whether he consciously recognized it or not, Lorden's chance decision to train had revealed to him a new revelation: No matter how long it might take, if one persevered, all things that are possible, can be accomplished in a finite amount of time.

[Orin Fenix]

Grades are Served

 

Lorden Ladis

Skill	XP
Endurance	4
Running	2
Body-Building	4
Observation	2

Lores

• Body-Building: Instant Workout, Just Add Armor
• Body-Building: Push-ups
• Body-Building: Breathing Matters

Shield Points

2

Training

Extras :

Well that was certainly a fresh and enjoyable take on a training thread. I can barely do fifteen push-ups outside of armor. So while I was a bit concerned that his strength might be a bit too much the fact that he was struggling so much more than made up for it.

Don't forget to edit or delete your grade request in the grade request thread.

If you have any questions or concerns about your grade please feel free to send me a message.