[Around Denval + the Lyceum] Hitting the Books (Solo)

[Faylon Kwanda]

88th of Summer [He had been at home during the occurrences on the night of the 81st. When the bolts of light fell earthward from the sky he had vowed to stay in the familial dwelling and offer support to his aging father who refused to leave. Both of them lived through the experience, his father was shaken but would recover in time, and Faylon couldn’t help but wonder what had happened that night though rumours would likely abound in the days to come. His thoughts had been occupied the following day though and every day after that concerning the occurrence and in his stomach Faylon felt as though this may have been one more act of carelessness by the Gods.] [Heretic! Sacrilege! There were many such words to describe his opinion if he voiced it out loud but he did not. Faylon thought the gods were careless and irresponsible and he knew well that men were but pawns for them to use on some divine chess board. Were men ever to throw off the shackles of the deities they would need to rise up and take control of their own destinies but that would take time, courage and a means to meet the gods on a level playing field. Many men didn’t believe as he did either, take Talen Stirling for instance whom Faylon had spoken with when they worked together on the road, and that was more difficulty facing him when it came to his goals.] [Afternoon came, rays of light danced across his features where he lay on a bed in the room he maintained when he stayed with his father at the families small home, he stirred in his sleep and covered his face with a hand. Moaning quietly Faylon would feel the heat from the light dancing across him as it sank into his skin before finally opening his eyes and rising up onto his elbows where he shook his head, yawned once, and then began to climb out of bed. He was on his feet before long and moving out into the main room of the house, he didn’t realize what time it was yet but it didn’t take him long to figure out that it was later and that his father had already left for work at the smithies, there he could make himself a bit of breakfast before attending to the requirements of the day.] [Using a frying pan he found Faylon would make a fire at the hearth and take three eggs to crack and toss into the pan. When the fire was ready he’d begin to cook them, he’d wanted to cook them well but he wasn’t that good at it and so with a wooden spoon used to stir the eggs he settled on scrambling them instead, it didn’t take too long. Eggs alone weren’t a morning, or afternoon as it were, meal though and he’d fry up some strips of bacon next. Well he would do an amiable job of it anyways. When it came to these matters Faylon could cook a mean porridge but even turning the bacon and attending to it carefully the strips ended up a little burnt. It just couldn’t be helped.] [That was it then. Breakfast was a combination of burnt bacon and runny scrambled eggs but who was complaining? If Faylon knew anything it was that men who complained about their food likely wouldn’t have it for long and that the world was too hard and unforgiving for anyone to look a decent meal in the face. Chewing on his last piece of bacon he’d finish the morning by cleaning the dishes and utensils he used and then getting ready to leave the house.] [Dressing himself for the day consisted of a dull brown tunic and worn breaches that were still solid and comfortable. He slid everything on and then moved towards the door for some practice. Maybe a little Boxing and some swordplay before he went off to take care of business. Chores weren’t a large priority today as the woodshed had been filled and there was also a row stacked inside the house near where the hearth burned. During the Fall, when it started to get colder in preparation for the freezing Winter, Faylon could stack whatever else he needed. This might well be his last Winter in Denval for some time if everything he had planned came to fruition and he wanted to make sure his father would have an easy go of things for at least two seasons after his departure.] [Moving outside Faylon would take his Longsword with him, the blade buried in a hard leather scabbard while the hilt stretched upwards, so that he could find a place nearby to begin a morning routine that he had been perfecting, slowly.]

[Faylon Kwanda]

[Outside the house and under the light of the sun Faylon would breathe in the fresh air before beginning to move off through the streets of Denval. His destination one of the training squares he had used frequently when he was younger. The squares had remained in the same locations since he was an adolescent and all that had changed were the faces that frequented them. On the way to the nearest square Faylon would stop to gossip with certain people familiar to him before continuing on his way, once he paused and listened to the conversation of two men who were discussing the night of the 81st and what had transpired. He thought he might have heard one of them talking about something that occurred in the Labyrinth but he couldn’t be sure and he moved on before too long.] [When Faylon finally reached the training square what he saw was fresh and youthful faces as the boys, and some girls, practiced against one another. None of them seemed to noticed the older man at first but some of them looked his way when he took up a position across from a practice post and began to run a routine of his own. It was uncommon for them to see someone not their age at this particular square but Faylon had returned to it out of necessity, maybe he just felt most comfortable in this place seeing as he spent so much time here during his younger years.] [Unsheathing his Longsword he’d toss the leather scabbard aside before moving to stand across from one of the practice poles. These poles were just lengths of wood, some of them outfitted with wooden arms as well to better resemble a man, that whoever was training could hack into and practice the basic strikes of their weapon against. Standing within reach of his sword across from the practice pole Faylon would make a few strikes with his weapon. Diagonal and vertical slashes at first from the left side and then from the right, back and forth, he didn’t take up any stance doing this as he merely tested the flow of the sword in his hands. He finished by raising the sword over his head and chopping it downwards before thrusting up with the tip of the sword towards the center of the practice pole. Hearing the sword of his sword sinking into the wood when he thrust Faylon determined it was time to begin another drill, more advanced drill.] [Taking a stance with his right foot leading, which also angled the right of his body towards the practice pole slightly, Faylon would raise his Longsword in a high guard. When he did this he would place his hands right over the left on the hilt of the sword and extend his right elbow outwards and higher. Angling the sword in the high guard so that the hilt was raised while the blade arced down from the right to left across his body, shoulder to hip, Faylon would bob on his feet briefly as though ready to defend.] [He thrust arms out first as though he were catch a blow on the flat of the blade and then lifting the sword he would swing it around over his head once the imagined block had completed itself. Bringing the sword around as he lift it higher Faylon would shift it out of the high guard and drop it into an attack meant to slice an opponent from the left shoulder to the right hip. His sword cut across the front of the practice pole, slicing through the wood, and he appeared satisfied with this. Of course this was merely a drill and in a real fight the outcome would rely on his opponent’s movements as well.] [Practicing this drill several times until he felt he had a good grasp of it Faylon would then change his tactic. Aware that some of the younger adolescents were watching him now added a bit of pressure. He switched to a low guard with his Longsword angling off to the right as though it were protecting that leg and running parallel with it, his hands remained placed as they were, and he began to practice this drill anew.] [In the low guard he would raise his sword to catch an imaginary descending blow and parry it off to his left or hold it in check. Regardless of which option he mimed he would then either raise his sword higher before chopping it down to hack into the head of the practice pole or set his left foot behind him so that he could draw his sword backwards and then thrust it forward towards the torso of the pole. A bit simpler than the high guard in his opinion.] [Like the last drill he would practice this one several times. When he finished he would take a step back, a light sweat covering his brow, and take a moment to collect himself.]

[Faylon Kwanda]

[Looking back over his shoulder as he caught his breath and took a moment to himself Faylon would notice that some of the adolescents watching him turned away and were now starting to attempt the same routines that he did. Of their number several would likely be able to do a better job than him, Faylon knew the basics but he was far from competent or a master, repetition was his ally when it came to the basics he knew of the sword. What he did know was what had been instilled in him since a young age which were the three basics attacks: thrust, chop, slash and the basic defences: block and parry as well as the stances. High guard being better for an offensive position in the opinions of many and low guard being the stance of choice for those defending. Either would suffice at a higher level of skill though he was sure.] [Taking his time Faylon would practice a few more basics with the Longsword. Thrusting it into the wooden pole by setting one foot behind himself as an anchor while his forward foot became his base and then retracting. Slashing diagonally from the right and then the left again. Chopping when he raised his sword high over his head and dropped it down. When he finished he would find his scabbard again and burry the Longsword back into it. He was finished working with the sword for now and would move on to what was his favourite part of training. Boxing.] [Boxing was seen less and less often Faylon thought which was a shame as it was an admirable art of self defence and a sport as well. It taught men discipline and also helped them to refine and hone their bodies, training them to become stronger, faster and harder. On average even a rookie Boxer was likely a little stronger and faster than the average men regardless of what he might have looked like, his fists honed to have become more solid and able to deliver harder punches which came in combinations or flurries.] [Stepping into a central circle around the middle of the practice square Faylon would take up a stance and begin to let his footwork do all the talking for him. Now this is where he shined and could do real damage against an unprepared opponent. He was far from a master but anyone who didn’t know what they were doing or took the man to lightly would have found themselves planted onto their backs before to long. As always he would begin by moving in a circle and shooting out quick jabs in what was meant to signify a feeling out process when the match began. It was important to both know your own reach as well as that of your opponents.] [Popping out several jabs that recoiled quickly Faylon would let himself stay light on his feet while bobbing from the left to the right and back again. Ducking his head from side to side as he moved to make it more difficult to hit and even leaning backwards on occasion as though someone were punching at him. One, two. One, two, three. His blows almost always came in short and quick combinations. He liked to lead with a jab or two and then finish with a hook to the body or a cross to the face. Sometimes he would throw in an uppercut as well.] [Watching Faylon was like watching a dancer moving across a stage as him bobbed and weaved his way around the training circle jabbing and throwing combinations. He moved through all the stances as well. Upright, half crouch and full crouch. Each had its advantages and drawbacks but he knew how to use them all. Most often he’d be seen in the upright, or offensive, position though where he could more easily dictate the flow of the fight and impose his will on an opponent. Pumping out jabs almost tirelessly he would throw one, then two and end with a straight meant to hit an opponent square in the face and stun them or knock them back a few feet. It worked sometimes. Without a real opponent Faylon was somewhat limited in what he could actually do though.] [Punches made from awkward angles were something he was becoming more comfortable with as well. A favourite of his was to lift his elbow so that it rose over his head and then drop it down in a hard blow at the top of his opponents’ skull when they were crouched or down low. If it struck he could open the way for an even more devastating flurry of attacks.] [Repeating his own combinations several times over as he danced around the ring Faylon would finally stop, bouncing up and down when he did, before marching out of the practice circle where he would collect his sword and scabbard and leave the training square. He had a few other things to do before the day wore on to late.]

[Faylon Kwanda]

[Once he’d left the training square Faylon headed towards his destination, the Lyceum, which lay further inside of Denval proper. The Lyceum was a place of learning that Faylon had only ever visited rarely but that he respected a great deal both for the practical means it offered others to research topics if they chose to take advantage of it as well as that it gave courses to those seeking an education on a variety of subjects both magical and mundane. Walking through the streets of Denval it wouldn’t take long for Faylon to reach the Lyceum, he didn’t have a lot of distractions, and now that his training routine had been completed he was fairly focused on his task.] [As he came upon the building he would tilt his head backwards and look up towards the top of the Lyceum as it stretched higher. It wasn’t the tallest building he had seen nor was it the largest but it served its purpose well since opening and had his respect. Approaching the building itself Faylon would ascend the stairs to the door leading inside before opening it and slipping into the interior where he moved to the first attendant he could find.] [Inside the Lyceum he saw candles surrounded by wax that lit the building in the night while slat windows illuminated it during the day and approaching what he imagined must have been a junior clerk, or scholar, he inquired...”I’ve come to browse the records of Denvals history. Thought it was time I received a better education on the subject. Where could I find the books I’m looking for?” Smiling helpfully the Clerk would direct Faylon in the direction of the books he required before eying the sword he carried momentarily. “This? Oh it’s nothing. I’ll leave it here.”...he’d have said seeming to sense the concerns of the young clerk before taking the sword, still sheathed in scabbard, and leaning it up against the desk the clerk sat behind. He could collect it on his way out. No need to sully the Lyceum by bringing a weapon inside he’d reasoned.] [Now that he had his directions Faylon would move deeper into the Lyceum, through different halls and corridors and maybe even up a flight of stairs, towards the section of the building where different historical and educational volumes could be found. He’d search the different shelves and stacks the clerk had directed him towards, looking for several books, before collecting what looked like some of the most recent and complete tomes dealing with the subject. Walking back to a small table then Faylon could open one of the books and begin to study its contents slowly.] [He had a basic knowledge of Denval but whatever was inside these historical tomes would help him to understand Denval and the role it played in history that much better. Denval began as a military outpost for the Suvan Empire, as well as a center for trappers, he read. That was something he made a mental note to look into further at a later date. The Suvan Empire. Not many common people would have an exceeding amount of knowledge on the subject in Mizahar today however Faylon might be able to learn a few tidbits if he hit the books for longer amounts of time. Another thing he read further into was how Kennabelle Wright had been the first outsider to make contact with Denval in 451AV, well before Faylon himself was alive and when both his parents were only children themselves.] [Scanning the different pages of the books as he skimmed them, reading more when a particular note or phrase caught his attention, Faylon would flip further ahead. He found a short list of the Captains of Denval as well, Astrid being the most recent, the past Captains including an Albina and an Alaric; Faylon didn’t think too much of it at the moment though he briefly wondered if it was coincidence or not that all Denvali Captains seemed to have a vaguely similar name. Dismissing the thought however he would turn from the book he was reading and lay another over it before beginning to study this new text in earnest as well.] [One thing of particular interest that Faylon had read in these books was that the position of Captain was hereditary to Denval and that, essentially, the same line had been ruling the town for as long as it had been in existence. At least if one was to believe what the texts said word for word. In a way this troubled Faylon and his brow noticeably creased the more he read about it, Captain Astrid was a great leader no doubt, how long could the people rely on one family to lead them. The silent question posed being that while Astrid and her legacy had done well could others have done better?] [Faylon would keep most of this to himself though as he read on...]

[Faylon Kwanda]

[As Faylon snacked the tome he had set across the last he seemed to be looking for something in particular but with a bit of a mutter he must have been coming up short. It was often noted that Denval held roots in the Suvan Empire however besides this historical reference on that empire appeared to be exceedingly rare at best. Maybe, Faylon thought, it was something that the Captains had regulated amongst the people for their own reasons but before he went any further he would see what the books could tell him.] [Eyes scanned the tomes diligently, he found references to Gods that the Denvali prayed to such as Viratas and Aquiras but nothing that wasn’t already mostly known to him, what he was looking for didn’t seem to exist where he was looking. Closing the book he had been reading Faylon slid it away from the other that it was on top of before doing likewise to the next. He’d stack the books then and push them off to the side of the table where he could leave them for now, replacing them where they had been found when he was done with his research. The next book he chose to read from looked significantly older than the other two, its cover was worn and the old leather binding cracked when he opened the tome, laying it open in front of himself though Faylon began to study the text as diligently as he had the last two.] [His eyes were starting to get sore by now, he might have been in the Lyceum for hours without having realized it, and he had to blink several times to keep his focus as seemed to be a common case when an individual’s vision was strained for too long. At one point he stopped though, his eyes reading over a line or two further, he saw the name Galifer Odalah and a vague familiarity sparked behind his eyes as though he were remembering something. Queen Kova was a famous, and tragic, name that accompanied talk of the Valterrian and the name Galifer Odalah seemed to accompany it on occasion if Faylon remembered correctly. This wasn’t his forte mind you so he acknowledged the fact that he could have been wrong, it wouldn’t have surprised him.] [One thing the new book Faylon read seemed to deal with more was the subject of the Valterrian though and how during it Denval had been caught behind the wall of rock and rubble that it now endeavoured to dig its way out of. Reading onwards Faylon could only hope to learn just a little more. It was right there in front of him though, Galifer Odalah was the last Emperor of Suvan and the dynasty that lead it before the destruction wrought across the world by the Valterrian, but it took Faylon a bit longer to connect the dots for himself. He was a little lax when it came to history and its finer points despite some of his pursuits.] [Flipping through the pages, especially as the book detailed the Valterrian further, Faylon would also come upon a bit about the God Ivak. In fact Ivak may have been one of the reasons that Faylon considered the deities to be irresponsible without even knowing it altogether. Knowing what he did about how the Valterrian had split the world due to the battles between the Gods and their rage, without having an in depth knowledge on the subject, he had forever considered them lesser in his eyes despite the fact he often hid this disdain. Even though many deities were benevolent he didn’t believe it gave them the right to puppeteer men and women across the world.] [Rubbing his eyes with his hand Faylon would eventually close the older looking tome and add it to the stack of piled books he had made before standing from his seat at the table. Taking the books then he’d replace them where they were found and make a mental note of where he could find them again when it was needed. He had more studying to do but something told him that he had buried his head in these books for long enough today. They would be there the next time he returned to the Lyceum.] [On his way out he would collect his sword, with sheath, in his hand before thanking the clerk for the earlier assistance and then he was off. Moving out the door he’d soon discover that it was the late afternoon and that he had spent several bells looking over those books. Time always passed quickly when a person had little notion of it apparently. Walking through the streets of Denval he’d be beside himself with his own thoughts. Faylon knew it was almost time for him to set out again. Maybe to Wind Reach first or Avanthal but that would until well into next season.]

[Tabarnac]

XP Award! Faylon XP Award: Longsword +3; Teaching +1; Boxing +3; Bodybuilding +2; Dance +1; Research +3 Lore: History, General (basic); Valterrian (basic); Denval (basic); Ivak (basic) Additional Notes: I gave you some bodybuilding and dance because all this training is going to make Faylon stronger and more graceful, too. You are welcome! That said, the training is good and all, but I think he’s far enough along that I would be more likely to award you more XP if he was training with someone. Like Talen. That way you get to develop character and interpersonal relationships as well as your skills, which is more fun to read and, for me at least, to write. Feel free to PM me if you have any questions or concerns. Keep writing!