Closed [Anthonius Training Grounds] Planning Ahead.

[Archailist]

My Words | Your Words | My Thoughts

11th of Summer, 515.

"Come on, Eyris. Why'm I doing this?" Once again, just like every third day, the Akalak had dragged him back into the stifling Training Grounds under the cloudless sky, to try his luck with some fellow squires. By now, it really was trying his luck. They all ran around with their maces, axes, swords of varying lengths and widths, halberds, daggers, warhammers, greatswords. They kicked, swung, smashed and flailed with all their might.. and he did his best to get out of the way and give an occasional poke to their ankles. If the Pycon could ever actually make some head-way in these skirmishes, he might still be interested in fighting with them all.. but the more he fought, the worse he became. Punching seemed to make less impact; in his last spar, he'd gone the entire length of the fight without even landing a single hit on his opponent. He'd spent nearly half a bell waiting for the right moment to strike, but it never seemed to arise.

"You know why. You need to hone your combat. Prepare for battles." The Pycon had heard enough of that rubbish to last a life-time by now.

"Yeah, that would be a great excuse, if it wasn't for the fact that I'm not in combat!" What was the point in it, when there was nothing to use it on, nor any grand threat of future battle? Thieves barely had half a chime to catch a glimpse at what they'd taken before they were hauled off back to the Tank. Men and women who tried their luck attacking any of the travellers along the Kabrin Road were wiped off the map the moment they stepped out into the sunlight; the same went for anyone who thought themselves brave enough to hide out in the Bronze Woods and prey on unsuspecting victims there. That was, if they could survive long enough to snatch their first purse.

Even if the squirrel had any use in combat, given his ridiculously tiny influence in the tide of battle with a possible bruise to an ankle here or there, he wouldn't be making any use of it. If they were using all of this weapons training to teach discipline then they could at least come clean and explain what it was for, instead of ranting about the importance of how to wield a sword that they would never swing at anything other than a wooden training dummy. "I might as well just go to the Archive and read some books on how to apply salve." Ser Eyris was glaring though, so he thought better on walking away.. no matter how much he would like to.

"Don't be childish. Now, you'll be working with another squire today by the name of.. Asen." That didn't sound like a human name. He had a bad gut-feeling. "Just remember, training. That means you need to work together, give advice. At least try to be civilized, alright? Now hop to it; I'll see you later on in the day." Just like that, the knight was off again, apparently busy with other business that the squirrel didn't even know of. Not even a clue as to what Asen was, either. For all he knew, he could be up against one of those Jamoura that weren't pacifists. Great. Now I get to spend an extra bell just trying to find him.. her.. whoever they are.

[Asen]

Asen strode confidently (not really) into the Training Grounds. Earlier she'd been instructed by a knight that she was to head over there for a bit of practice; she had yet to be assigned a patron. Lorden had simply disappeared, running off to who-knows-where, and at the present moment she was basically floating around until they found a suitable mentor for her.

According to the aforementioned knight, she was to be training with something called an Archailist. She'd never heard of such a thing before. Was it a new weapon? Was it a shield? Perhaps it was a new style of fighting. Whatever it was, it sounded interesting.

She grabbed the arm of a passing Akalak, despite her senses screaming at her to not do that. It was an odd thing. Akalaks were having that effect on her more recently than ever. However, she shrugged it off. "D'you know where I can find an Archailist?" she asked.

The half-Dhani thought she saw a glimmer of something -- recognition, maybe? -- in the Akalak's eyes, but it was gone in a split tick and she was pointed towards a brownish-grey lump on the ground. Without question she moved towards it and discovered that an Archailist was not a what, it was a who.

It was one of those creepy little clay beasts, but in a very different shape compared to Nivel or Ball. It looked almost like a squirrel, with the exception of a pair of what looked like antlers sprouting from its head.

The blonde walked hesitantly up to the thing, twisting the ring around on her finger. How was she supposed to go about doing something like this? 'Hey, I was assigned to fight you!' No, that didn't really work. 'Would you like to fight?' Too polite.

In the end, what came out of her mouth was a half-choked jumble of syllables that sounded vaguely like 'Archailist' with a high-pitched squeak at the end. She promptly began mentally cursing her name to the wind and forced a smile that looked more like a grimace.

The squire cleared her throat and repeated the word. "Archailist?"

[Archailist]

My Words | Your Words | My Thoughts | oocSo sorry about the massive delay on this reply!

He'd gone off and begun questioning a young man with a long-sword and shield gripped like the necks of small, delicate little fluffy animals by the time Asen walked in. Figured that it was better sooner than later that he started the search, but it was over barely before he started. Broken off with a quiet noise like someone had just stepped on a rat, though apparently it was supposed to his name, judging by the second attempt. On the spot, the Pycon wheeled around and was about to offer a greeting when the dull-eyed lad cut him off. "Uhh, I think that's her." Just listening to his squeaky voice was putting the figurine on even more of a sharp temper and he quickly turned back with a curt, dismissive wave. "Yes, thank you for that invaluable observation. I think your patron is signalling for you."

With that finally dealt with, he had at least a few ticks to get a good look up and down his next sparring partner. Tall, but not as much as Ser Iros. The body of a scout and the face of a page; oh how wonderful. The longer he spent in the Grounds and the more time he spent paired up with younger and more inexperienced partners, the more he understood Ser Iros' disdain for being paired with a squire barely five inches tall with the same consistency as porridge left out in winter. It almost felt like a personal affront that they saw his skills so utterly worthless that he was little good for anything else than acting as either a very small punching bag for veteran soldiers, or a mentor in the use of weapons he had absolutely no knowledge in. Unlike Iros, who seemingly only had the ability to show one of three emotions around Archailist - rage, sadness or disappointment - the horned squirrel tried to the very best of his ability to mask all this away as though it wasn't slowly eating away at his very faith in the Order he had struggled, and still was in the process of struggling to join.

"Sorry about that.. now, you must be Asen. He smiled a thin smile, physically flattening what constituted for lips on his squirrel-like face. "I've heard.. well, I've heard absolutely nothing about you, to be frank. And.. well, I hope you know nothing about me." If anyone was saying anything, it probably wasn't good. Scratch that; definitely wasn't good. "Oh well. Let's change that. After all, if you're here, then someone wants you to learn something." That seemed to be the running gag; pair up someone with a squirrel to teach them some 'valuable' lesson on why it's important to tie your shin-guards tight. "Why don't you start by, say, telling me what your favourite weapon of choice is." As he talked, the Pycon had slowly started walking back to the far right edge of the Grounds, into the more 'urban' arenas. Narrow corridors of stone built into the grey sand, some standing like pillars and others scattered low, raising the terrain in all sorts of jagged and random ways.