(West of sunberth)Blood and Sweat (CE Only)

[Cade]

OOC: In your post signify what wooden melee weapon you choose so the guild can pay for it. This will be mainly a sparing session with physical fitness. Those that need basic training in such weapons can seek out those that can teach them. Cade is expert in the longsword so I am willing to instruct that.

Timestamp: 40th of spring, 512

The barbarian waited off the side of the western road an hour out of sunberth. There was an open field suitable for training that Cade had walked past many times on his travels. This day he stood in the middle, his mule driven wagon was filled with assorted wooden weapons that matched each of his members unique fighting style or styles they wished to learn this day. The Captain of the crimson edge had booked the early morning for hard training for his mercenaries and it will be a day full of bruises, blood and pain. In the end they will be that much stronger and unified as a unit of the crimson edge.

The half blood myrian did not wear armour, his chest was exposed showing the world that his body was littered with many scars of battle. His right wrist had the tattoos, over forty skulls piling from the back of his hand signifying each kill he could confirm. the first skull that took up most of the back of his hand and where the pile started had a significant meaning to him. It belonged to his first, a bounty that him and his mother hunted tell they became the prey. He was the one that killed her and Cade at age ten bludgeoned the man to death with hammer and took all night doing so.

He rubbed the skull, the memory still fresh in his thoughts and forever will be. He needed his trainees to show up faster so he could side track his mind with out having to use mead or pulp.

[Lusa]

Lusa approached Cade and the wagon full of weapons apprehensively. It seemed she was the first to arrive. She had never used a weapon before, but knew it was necessary to learn if she wanted to keep living in Sunberth. She was still felling guilty about her capture, which had resulted in an injury to Zandelia. Maybe if she'd had some skill with a weapon, it wouldn't have happened at all.

Lusa had never been a fighter; it had always been flight instead of fight. But she now knew that incidents like that could happen any time here, and as much as she was afraid of fighting, she would learn to protect herself and the group of people she was rapidly coming to care about greatly.

So, today Lusa actually put on shoes and came to be trained. She looked at the huge man before her a bit nervously. She'd seen him before about Sunberth, of course, who could miss him? But she'd never gotten this close to him before. He gave off the air of a predator, that made they prey in her jittery. Shifting her weight back and forth on strong, shapely legs, she ran a small hand through her short hair and greeted Cade.

"Hello!" She said, voice rising a bit with nervousness. She looked at the cart full of wooden weapons and drew from it a heavy wooden longsword, examining it in order to not have to look right at Cade.

[Shadowfang]

It truly felt good to spread wings and fly every once in a while.

Shadowfang flapped his wings a few times to maintain his speed. Normally, he would not be out and about this early in the daytime, but luckily the sun was at his back. Plus, he had a specific reason for being out here. He had heard from a loose tongue in the Pigs Foot Tavern that the Crimson Edge would be training in this area so he figured, if he was going to try and join, he would need to familiarize himself with the members, along with strengthening alliances with anyone he had already met.

There! Standing in the middle of the clearing along with another person was the noisy Myrian and a cart of wooden weapons. Shadowfang wondered if this was a good idea after all. True, he wanted to meet people and get some form of protection from those people, but he still did not like that dangerous looking man. Shrugging off the thought, he continued toward the clearing. It had taken a while to get here anyway, so he might as well see what could happen.

He descended, going into a brief dive before pulling up and flapping his wings, creating a tiny storm of loose grass on his landing zone. Bending his knees to absorb the shock of his landing, he examined the small group before him. He was hopeful that they would let him stay instead of slaughtering him on the spot. Perhaps if there was someone here who recognized the Zith, they would vouch for him. Seeing what the people who had arrived before him had done, he pulled out his journal and approached the cart. Maybe the weapon he desired was here.

Avoiding the gaze of the large Myrian, he rummaged around in the cart of wooden weapons and found what he was looking for. He pulled from the cart a broad Assassin's Dagger, an almost exact match to the drawing in his book. Putting the journal away, he held the dagger loosely in his hand and walked out to stand in front of the two others. In truth, he had no idea how to wield a dagger, or a weapon of any sort for that matter, but now was as good a time to learn as any.

[Wrenmae]

Wrenmae held the dagger in his right hand apprehensively. This was really Shroud or Weaver's expertise, not his own. Violence unnerved him, always had, and even facing a Nuit in the graveyard some time ago had left the telltale scars of nerves on his person. Even when the weapon was wood (And to call it dagger was a bit much considering a short sword was as close as he could com to his unnaturally long daggers) it still felt alien in his hands, like it didn't belong. Cade towered over the other members of the Crimson Edge, a monster of a man with hauntingly vicious eyes. He held his sword to the side, his chest rising and falling with gales of air. Personally, Wrenmae wanted nothing to do with the hulking brute. Shroud held tales of the Half-blood's prowess...the things he was capable of, the things he had done. Women, cut as easily as firewood by his blade...blood drenched floors and misery. The boy was not among the company of the just or even the well meaning...not any longer. He sighed, channeling his apprehension through his breath. Shroud wouldn't have had a problem here, he would have reveled in the opportunity to improve. But something about this place felt wrong, something about himself felt wrong. Hypnotism had shattered him, fragmented his mind into pieces that seeped in and out of focus. He didn't belong here, not among savages and mercenaries. He was a storyteller, tale weaver, an entertainer at best. This sort of work was...different, it was perverted from what he wanted. How was he any different from the slavers he'd killed in the forest? The Nuit that wanted to dig up his adopted parents? No. This all felt wrong. But to step away now would be to reveal his secret, that Shroud had been in control before and had left only the storyteller in his place. It was a reality Wrenmae was not prepared to breach, especially near the sort of people who preyed on weakness. A Zith winged down, taking an Assassin's dagger before stepping out among the others. Zith...loathsome cannibals and slavers. Shroud had found some chord with the monsters, but Wrenmae felt nothing but disgust that one of the humanoid vermin had been allowed a chance to call on comrades. He stepped out in front of the Zith with his own weapon, nervous, but angry. "When do we begin?" he asked, glancing to Cade and then back to Shadowfang.

[Roka]

It had only been days since Roka was introduced to the group Crimson Edge. He was still not sure his feelings on the faction, but training in skill not acquired felt like a good way to spend a day. An unsettling emotion had griped him lately, he was changing from the person he once was. What better way to forget and release these emotions then to dedicate one’s body to something exhausting.

He approached on foot at a leisurely pace. Feigning a yawn, he took in the smell of the group in front of them before close enough to speak. Two were familiar, one a human who had informed him of the group, and a small Kelvic girl, one who he had encountered in the forest. It was odd to see the girl here, she seemed an innocent creature, yet she involved herself with a group such as this? It was even more puzzling to behold her carrying a weapon that nearly outsized her. 'A wolf in sheep's clothing?'

The other two were unknown to him; both of them carried a smell that wasn't particularly pleasing. One he recognized as a Zith, he'd only ever encountered one before, and that one was not always Zith, and was probably the only one of that race he'd take favor with. Who was to say though? The other seemed to become large and larger as he approached and he felt somewhat intimidated by the man's appearance. Especially since he seemed like a boy in comparisons.

Once he was within range, he realized he wasn't sure what to say in greeting, most weren't folk he'd normally converse with in passing. He was now unsure about even coming.

He had a small amount of knowledge with a dagger, and very little with unarmed combat, so he contented himself to pull from within the cart a familiar tool. A small practice dagger, one small enough to throw and large enough that if quick enough would be a worthy arm.

[Mok]

Mok was the fifth one to arrive and as usual he was plenty drunk from the night before. The only Crimson member that the myrian remembered was Lusa, Wren, and of course Cade. Lusa was Zandelia's pet and Mok had helped bail her out of a slaver camp earlier in the season. Wrenmae, or rather shroud, was already well aquianted with Mok. The two men had endured alot of shennanigans together in the winter. Mok would not easily forget the night he meet Wrenmae either.

And of course Cade, his brother and leader. While some watched him in fear, Mok approached him with open arms. In their past lives in Taloba, Cade and Mok were cousins in the Jagged Blade Clan. Now, they were brothers in the Crimson. Mok had so much respect for this man, it was not even funny. The myrian was proud to call him captian and brother. He did not taking orders from Cade because he had to. NEVER! Mok listened to Cade because he loved him with all the brother love possible. He was more than family now. Although Cade was ever jesting with Mok, the myrian knew that in reality the man had respect for him. The loyalty between the two men was endearing to say the least.

They were blood brothers, team mates, savages. Pals for life. They were GoodGellas.

Anyways in Mok's post-drunken state, he could not exactly remember if he had met the other two or not. It was no matter though. He wasn't there to converse. No. Mok was there to train. He was there to test the mettle of the new recruits.

"Cade," Mok greeted his cousin with a firm shake of the forearms. Nothing else needed to be said. They both understood why they were there so there was no point in talking any further. Next Mok went over and shook Wrenmae's forearm, greeting him in similar fashion. Wren knew what was up too. The myrian had spent several sessions with the man.

Next, Mok shook Lusa's arm, "Lusa," He wanted everyone to understand what he was doing right now. It was called respect and the myrian thought it was important. He expected everyone below him to understand that too. This was not to be said respect wasn't earned. Lusa had gained at some respect from Mok with her actions earlier. He had to at least awknowledge her prescence.

The other two however, he did not approach. It would be wrong for Mok to judge both creatures before he got to know them or see them in action. It was as simple as that to Mok. No harm indended.

Finally, the myrian walked over to the cart. Looking inside, he easily found a pair of wooden training gladius. Grabbing both of the weapons, Mok debated whether or not he should try fighting with both. His gladius technique was more than enough to weild both weapons. Swinging the both swords around in his hands, Mok quickly dropped one of the blades. It didn't feel right to him. Something else caught his eye though. A shield. It was a plain wooden shield, rectangular in shape. The warrior tried it on. It felt lite and easy to carry to the myrian. Also it was big enough to cover his jaw all the way below his waist, covering his whole torso.

Mok liked it. Today he would train with sword and shield. Tossing the equipment on the floor, Mok sat in the grass next to Cade, awaiting more people to show up.

Red = Myrian
Bold = Common

[Kreig Messer]

"Greetings my kind friends, pardon if I am a tad late" Kreig announced loudly as he approached his new friends with a wide smile. The thought of the supposedly intense training filling him with glee 'I shall be stronger......It might hurt in the end...........So much fun' A sadistic smile slowly replaced his wide friendly one as he approached the cart and picked up a wooden longsword 'The Longsword....hrrrnnnn' Although he preferred his fists, Kreig reluctantly realized , more like informed, the need for himself to learn something that didn't involve beating up someone with your fists.

Looking around he saw a few familiar faces, notably Mok, Lusa and Cade. Wren he only had a brief acquaintance through Ana and two others whome he did not know at all ' I wonder if there will be friendship exercises' He though, then gave the wooden word an untrained swing, treating it more like a club rather than a sword 'I would rather have the ones with the metal core.....' He said as he recounted the heavier practice weapon he purchased days prior '...but oh well...'

"I see your taking up the blade as well, Lusa" Quite honestly he did not expect that of her, she seemed more suited for the support role, such as cooking and helping the sick. Not that he was trying to stereotype or anything, only that she really didn't look frightening at all 'Don't judge a book by its cover, Kreig' He reminded himself, weak appearances often belie fierce capabilities.

[Andalusia]

There was barely any wind, not even a breeze, but Andalusia's thick curls swung and swayed behind her as she rode down the hills on Howlite, Dante running behind them with his tongue out. Her beige manteau was tied around her shoulders, flapping behind her with every sturdy gallop the Leopardbred made through the fields. Her shorts rode up her thighs quite a bit due to the sitting position, although she did not fidget around to fix it. She had a small, content smile on her face, and her emerald eyes twinkled with excitement at the sight of Cade and his wagon full of wooden weapons in the distance. Her pleasant expression faltered as people began to flock around the half-blood Myrian, but she took a deep breath and told herself that all would be well. "I'll get to meet new people," she encouraged herself, and felt her smile briefly widen into a smirk, "and I'll get to see some that I've already met." Once she had gotten close enough to the group, she quickly hopped off of the Leopardbred and left him alone to wander about and graze. Howlite trotted a little farther off from them, still within earshot, and began nibbling on a bushel of tall grass. She took swifter strides, and her head was held higher than usual - she had a good night's sleep. Howlite trotted alongside of her happily, panting with his tongue flapping out. As soon as they reached the wagon, she acknowledged Cade with a nod and a little smile. She turned to the others, and suddenly felt a wave of shyness and insecurity. She swore in her head at the sight of a young man with large, bat-like wings, and quickly turned the other way. She met eyes with Lusa, and without thinking, gave her a warm smile and a wave of her hand. She turned to Roka, and found herself blushing at the sight of him. She gave him an equally warm smile, and then turned to the others. A Myrian, or so he appeared to be, sat next to Cade in a cordial fashion. They looked quite a bit related - brothers, cousins? She turned to the man with wings and attempted to give him a little smile, eyeing the assassin's dagger he had in his hands. She had one too, a real one, strapped around her thigh. She quickly moved to look at the other man present, as she'd never truly seen such a race with wings before, and it intimidated her quite a lot. The other man was a human, clad in comfortable clothing, his expression seemed to be filled with mixed emotions as he faced the winged man. She watched as Kreig approached and spoke, and gave him a little wave of her hand and a smile. She's been smiling and waving a lot, today. After taking in the appearances of the fresh faces, she turned towards the wagon and examined its contents. There was much to choose from. She removed her manteau and hung it along the side of the wagon, revealing a sleeveless, strapped white torsolette underneath it, and a full view of her rolled up gray shorts, knee-high leather boots, as well as her bow and quiver of arrows buckled around her waist. She glanced past the heavier-looking swords and weapons, frowning at a particular Claymore. "If only I could," she pouted at it, and then looked away. It was probably far too heavy. She found a pair of wooden wrist-razors, and picked them up for a moment to examine them. They were exquisite, and she wondered if she'd be able to wield them well. She shook her head, deciding that now was not the time to experiment too much, and turned to the smaller swords. A strange sword caught her attention as soon as she laid eyes on it. It was a wooden Sword-breaker, with elaborate notches that, with enough force and pressure, could break the sword of an opponent's. She then caught sight of a wooden Flametongue, and picked it up as well. Both were exceptionally light enough for her to wield, but she couldn't decide on which one. Both? No, it wouldn't be right, it would be imposing. What to choose, then?

[Kit]

A young-man-shaped Kit followed not too far behind Kreig. He had spent the morning foraging, but then he noticed that his human was going off somewhere strange. Wanting to make sure Kreig stayed out of trouble, he followed the brawler all the way out here. When they approached the main group, Kit relaxed as he recognized a few of the scents of the people here. There was the bouncy stomper, and the flying predator. The rest, Kit had no association with, even if he vaguely recalled scenting them at some point int he past.

There were far too many creatures here, and Kit was unsure what their habits were, and in his current form, they might not notice that he was among the race of creatures not to be messed with. He sauntered up behind Kreig, planning to stick close to his human in such an unfamiliar situation.

That was when his eyes fell on her. She smelled of the forest, and of a home he'd never had. His face's temperature increased noticeably as it turned bright red. His stomach felt like it was full of those spiders that he loved eating alive and then they'd wriggle around- ahem. Forgetting his purpose in coming here today, he shoved Kreig out of the way and said, "H-h-h-hi..." A dopey grin formed on his face.

Following the lead of his human and the new love of his life, Kit pulled the long pointy stick (blade, they'd called it?) out of the wagon. Holding the thing felt extremely awkward and unnatural, but in his current state, Kit would do anything if he thought it would impress the girl.

[Aerika]

It had only been a couple of days since Aerika had joined the Crimson Edge, a group of killers, murderers, thieves, all out warriors. Within the few days, she met only a handful, yet she never knew just how many she had already met from times before. Her light hair flickered in the mild breeze, and bare feet pattered across the ground, and her white dress following the motion of her hair. Her mark still dancing across her right side, cloud on her shoulder, and snowflakes dancing from arm to side. She heard rumors of the Crimsons training with weapons today, something that was recommended, yet not necessary. Word was that they would all be meeting on the west side, just outside of the walls, yet she was walking, and still did not see anyone. Making it around the last turn, the small girl finally found a group of people, several with familiar faces. She approached, noticing most of them had already drawn weapons from a cart and a large shirtless man stood there, his arms crossed and his face still. Taking a moment, she approached the man, looked dead at him as he seemed to first ignore her, and then said "For a loud guy you sure are quiet now." Her innocence showing, she made her way to the cart and began examining the weapons. None of them could be recognized by her but she pulled them out anyways, finding their appearances enjoyable. The first pair of weapons she pulled were known as elbow blades, few actually wielded them as they were incredibly difficult to have swing correctly. In addition, the blades were named for covering the arms back to the elbows, making it easy to cut the wielder. The second weapon was a scythe, another rare weapon selection, as its primary style was circular, forcing the wielder to stay in constant motion of lose all mobility. Lastly, she pulled out a large sword, it was think and longer than her body, known by most as a broad sword. The sword would aid in her weak physical strength, being able to use the weight of the sword to give her tremendous power. Staring at all three selections, she began to thing, completely unsure as to what she would prefer. Pondering over her selection, Aerika turned around to notice one of the winged men, zith as she learned they were called. Joy filled her body as she rushed toward him and jumped on his back, rubbing her face across his wings. Aerika surely missed the feeling, and continued to rub, the soft silky feeling touching her cheek. Her arms wrapped around his wings, not willing to let go, as her mouth opened and began making strange sounds. Her face lit up with pleasure, her voice carrying sounds of joy, she was excited to get to feel something so wonderful once again. Her mind faded from all other things that were happening and solely focused on the feeling, nothing but pure pleasure filled her body, and she did not want to wake up.