Completed [Silkwater Lake] The water reveals all

[Fallon]

85th Spring 513AV
8th Bell

Four years it had been now. Four long years without his guiding hand. Four years without the company of her mentor, where promises were made and shattered. Four years since he had died. Fallon had left the comfort of the city a good two days ago, going out on horseback along the patrol route of the Kabrin road before finally turning her eyes towards the Cobalt Mountains and away from the beaten track. With Orvin in tow and the saddle of Javil beneath her, the squire lead herself up the winding way, until finally settling herself down. There she began her training, her thoughts being poured into every aspect of it. Where possible at least.

Fallon inhaled deeply. Perched at the water's edge the squire sat, her eyes tracing the surface for the occasional ripple. Beside her sat Orvin, back straight, his head reaching her shoulder with ease. But the pair of them were silent in their watching of the dawn break, and the sun peek out from the surrounding mountains. It was a new day, and they had gotten through the night with little trouble. And hopefully it would continue that way. Trouble meant the interruption of training after all. She flexed her fingers, willing them to life as she listened to the distant chirp of birds and their morning chorus. Her eyes drifted down to the both the wooden and steel Tulwar, eyes glancing down at their forms before reaching out to one of them. She took up the wooden one feeling the weight in her hand, before pushing herself up. She gave a nod to Orvin, who turned to watch her with keen interest, before once more she made a distance between her and her companion.

The wolf watched her with curiosity as she gave the wooden tulwar, giving a series of broad swings as she found herself a spot comfortable for practicing in. Squaring her feet up she rolled her shoulders back and took her grip on the wood blade. She felt the studded leather sit across her, the weight of the straps upon her. She brought the hilt to her centre, her weight shifting on her toes as she found a stance comfortable with. She heard the wind, the scratch of birds within the surrounding trees, all fall into a silence as if waiting for the first move to be made.
In through your nose, out through your mouth… keep it calm. Keep yourself one with it.

Life sprung into her, a wide slash coming out before her as she poured in her focus to the blade. Her feet went forward after it, a constant advance as the blade recoiled back she turned sideways. It was thrusted forwards, then went upwards into an upper cut. She shrunk in after it, sword folding back towards her whilst her elbow raised itself to meet the chin of an invisible foe. Although it would have worked against the air, at present that was far from the case, there was no foe for her to test it on after all. Her free hand at that point went forward; fingers open and ready to grab at something and forcing her other side round to face her invisible foe. She held the final stance for a moment and exhaled, her body winding down before she shook herself. She gave a smile at Orvin.

“Getting better,” she gave a low chuckle “Soon enough I’ll get there, be all knightified,” The wolf shook his head and gave a snort, almost as if disapproving of the comment “Disagree? Thought you would.”
There was a sigh, and she took up her stance once more, the point hovering out before her. They focused upon the wavering tip, her free hand slipping behind the pommel to give her a solid grasp of it. She muttered a series of words underneath her breath, a gentle reminder of what she was trying to achieve “One with it… one with it…”
She gave a slash, slower this time, feeling and remembering the movements of the muscles as they brought the blade before her. She turned slowly with it, a gentle arch of movement as each tendons stretched and relaxed, and then withdrew it. The process was repeated, the blade being brought downwards across her, slow calm steps following after it. Speed may have been vital for in combat, but knowing where to strike and understanding how the body worked whilst fighting in turn was just as important.

It was the underlying swoosh noise that escaped her lips that broke the complete seriousness of the training, a moment of a more childish nature coming out. There was a broad swing, and she pivoted on the spot the movement gradually picking up speed. The hilt moved up so it was level with her jaw the point curving down across her, a curl of the lips as she brought it round once more. She gave it a flick and brought it back, and rested it in both her hands with her stance relaxed once more. The sword was tossed to one side, a low thud upon the ground. Arms stretched out, wrists clicking as once more she looked upon the lake.

[Maduro Salvitary]

From the thick brush there would come noises

Maduro too was a swordsman of great skill or so he thought, his lazy days were spent fishing and drinking ale. Today it seemed more ale then drinking.

Two hands on a stick, he was in fierce battle with a most formidable shrubbery.

You Petcher!

I am Maduro Salvitary, and you have forced my hand. You shall be met with no mercy.

Whack whack whack, thwap, thwap, thwap.

Maduro furiously hacked and chopped.

But he had to have the proper poses, it was all about style even if it ment sacrificing functionality. Take his wardrobe he was dressed in only an under garment because it eas much cooler underneath the pulsing rays of the sun. And would allow him to take a dip after such a punishing training regiment.

Sweat was beading off his frame, and he was breathing heavily as he loomed over the fallen bush.

You were good

He took a moment to wipe the bead of sweat off his forehead.

but not good enough

....

....

FOOOL!!!

I am Maduro Salvitary the greatest blade of the realm !

He spat on his foe in triumph

And laughed a forcibly fake haughty noble laugh

Oh-ho-ho

[Fallon]

Fallon turned back for a moment, hearing the murmur of a voice that grew into a rumbling roar of defiance over the shrubbery. An eyebrow cocked as she registered the voice in her mind, a heavy sigh escaping as she rubbed her brow. She had only met the owner of it a few days previously, and had quickly registered him as being an alcoholic of a sort. And a part time fool by the sounds of things.
Maduro Salvitary… fighter of deadly plants and creator of rackets.

The squire shook her head, and took up the wooden Tulwar, resting it over her shoulder as she went to investigate the state of intoxication he was in. Orvin remained where he was, a bemused expression having almost fixed itself there. She took careful steps through the undergrowth, pushing aside branches with the tip of the Tulwar, eyes searching for the hack marks left by the ‘Mighty Maduro’ as he forged a path forwards. The man, when she finally did discover him, was in his undergarments and for the most part, completely and utterly plastered. Or at least he was acting it – Fallon was no expert when it came to the nature of such people. An eyebrow rose as she stood behind Maduro, as he spat at the bush and released what could only be described as a poor excuse for a dark laugh.

She raised the wood Tulwar, and gave him a firm prod in the back with it. For the most part, the squire was unsure whether to laugh at the man and his current state, or to guide him back to camp into clothing.
“So, Maduro, greatest blade of the realm,” she pressed the wood tip firmly into him and kept it there “How is tending the plants going? I’m certain they’re wonderfully difficult foes for you…” There was a flicker of a smile there before once more it disappeared “Why are you… dress like that?”

[Maduro Salvitary]

He felt the wood sword poke into him, shear instinct took over. He would move in ways never seen before, with a speed and grace befitting a paranoid squirrel.

He welped

Yikes

Jumped forward tripped and fell on his chest and just laid there face first in the dirt. It could only be described as an inverted backflip.

He murmured

Damn you shrubbery you set me up

After a moment he rolled on his back

It had seemed as if he was coherent to a degree, but in a way that seemed slower then molasses as he processed his choice of words most carefully.

But there was shock on his face

Madam madam avert your eyes, such a delicate flower should not bare witness to the carnage I have wrought upon my foe. I was alas unable to deliver a clean death, but it was in self defense.

Of this I swear

I Maduro as you said greatest swordsman in the realm only uses the power for good, never evil.

....

There was a pause

Aye beautiful I was in my undergarments heading for the lake, till this

Nudged his head in the direction of his vanquished foe

Petcher decided to cut me up.

He started it so I finished it

Cheap shoting bastard

If Fallon decided to get a little closer she would be able to see the nefarious handy work of his foe. She would notice two things

The first is that he wreaked of boose, like even his sweat stank of it.

Second a light peppering of thorns sprinkled across the side of his leg.

It was apparent that Maduros gallantry had landed him in a spot of trouble, only noble that a fellow warrior should help him from his dire death knell

[Fallon]

Fallon watched the full grown man flail wildly on the ground, lips pursing together as slurred words came forth and the stench of alcohol reached her nose. He was most definitely drunk; there was no doubt about it. But at this time in the morning? The squire shook her head and looked down at him, a hand resting on her hip as she gave a long, drawn out sigh.
Men, her eyes rolled as she listened to the bravado that the man tried to explain his expertise over the mighty shrubbery Always trying to impress.

Despite the amusement of the situation, Fallon did not laugh. For here was a man that she would have to spend not only the next few bells with- making sure that he did not drown himself in the water- but also for the rest of the time they were out in the wilds. And in all honesty, she did not want the stress of having to run after an adult due to their own drunken stupidity. She rested the tulwar over her shoulder, before stretching down a hand to him “Come on you fool, the lake is that way. So let’s see if we can sober you up.”

She did not wait for him to object, for she simply grabbed him firmly by the arm and proceeded to haul him up. Or at least give him a firm tug that they were moving and there was no room for argument. She did not look at him, and turned her attention back to the lake. As far as Fallon was concerned, her only priority was to sober the man up, and from there she was not sure. She figured she would get back to training and practising. Unless of course her attention once more was called for – like Maduro had decided to try and drown himself in the water.
The way he’s going on though, that might end up as a blessing than a misfortune Fallon mused “Come on you… come on now…”

[Maduro Salvitary]

His valiant efforts in the pursuit of honor and valor had fallen upon deaf ears.

Clearly she was not impressed with his knightly ways.

Aye many than.......... Wuhhhhhhhhhh

The woman's arm dived upon him as if a bird of prey her talons opened scooping up her quarry and dragging the varmint up to the sky.

He did not know how to react, she was forceful and strong. Alas poor Maduro would be her prisoner and he would abide by his cruel masters command. There was something erotic about this although he could not pin point it. He may be a brat and tug and she would just heave him in line, he tested the fence and the fence did not yield.

A woman that took charge of the situation, there was indeed something seductive about strong women with even stronger willpower.

Even though he was being dominated a part of him loved it.

It was a pity Fallon didn't look at him or else shed have seen this half cracked smile of mild enjoyment. It was something between a look of scandel and jovial amusement.

It would appear that the walk itself was sobering him up or at the very least kept him quiet.

Well for a while that is.

If your going to be that rough, we need a safety word madam Fallon. He piped

Maduro was rather impressed by his wit in his state of being, of course Fallon was uneasily impressed. Any woman would have swooned at his daring battle, well at least so he thought. He took a step into murky uncharted water and he had to make a wager, would it be the left cheek or the right cheek.

He had a feeling he'd be clubbed to death before he even reached that lake, but would Fallon really club a poor drunk man in the woods?

Unfortunately all bets were off

[Fallon]

Fallon continued to drag him along, rather heavy handed and rough as slurred words. The squire did not pay attention to the stupid grin that had plastered itself across the face of the drunk as she hauled him between the trees and bushes. The lake side appeared before them between the trees, the shimmering surface welcoming them. Or at least it was until Maduro once more spoke. Fallon felt her jaw tighten, her lip twitching in annoyance
She shot a glare, and growled “Where we’re going, we won’t need a safety word.”

Her ‘talon’ hold was release, and she watched him sway for a moment on the spot. She looked towards Orvin as he padded over, and inclined her head at the drunk before rolling her eyes.
“Go on,” she gave Maduro a push “There’s your water. Go get wet or… whatever. I don't know, just go sober up.”
The squire shook her head took several steps away from the man, now content with the fact he could most probably look after himself now. She was however, still a bit disgusted with his drinking habits. Not that she could really say anything about her own habits.

Nostrils flaring, Fallon looked upon the lake, and awaited almost for a sudden cry of panic from the drunken fool if he begun floundering about in the water and was in need of saving. Not that she particularly wanted to at present, maybe if he sobered up a little more and became aware that she clearly was not interested in his advances, then perhaps things would be a little different. She shot a quick glance at Maduro.

Or maybe not. She was still contemplating giving him a hard shove into the water to help cool that head of his. But that would have been far to childish of her. And she was far too mature for that. Her hands went into her pockets, her eyes fixed upon the liquid mirror before her as she tried to ignore the presence of the man who swayed beside her. It was going to be a long day.
x

[Maduro Salvitary]

Fallon did not take kindly to Maduros

Of course hadnt knocked him one either, he could tell he was playing with fire as the woman's lipped trembled jaw tightened he half expected to see her eye quiver in annoyance. Instead she said there would be no safety word, and tossed him like a rag doll without really throwing him. Her talons released Maduro and he hobbled a bit to regain his balance.

That's when he saw it, that look.

This was but no ordinary look no this was something of a completely different caliber. This was the Evil Eye, many a husband has been felled by this. It was how it struck a mans core and bore through it, there was no escaping this terrifying gaze except to stare downward at the ground or floor in shame or defeat. Dare you look up to challenge your alleged transgression it would be there forever waiting in that moment to haunt you.

But Maduro was no ordinary man.

She brazenly shoved Maduro in a push forward to the lake, she told him to get wet and man did he have a retort but there was something holding him back. Perhaps Maduro could not challenge this look.

He had been silenced for now.

But then as she took her attention off of him and put it on this watery mirror Maduro began to disrobe. But as he held his hands around his under garments he looked at them then back at Fallon and her dog. He did this a second time weighing out his options, it was pre-meditated in typical drunken fashion.

Maduro would toss this at Fallon like he was some kind of playboy, if by some miracle it landed on her or her companion or had taken her attention off the mirror she would get an eyeful.

One naked Maduro his privates capriciously dangling in the breeze. Maduro hanging on a tree trunk, he was trying to look like a hell yes but that alcohol had a way of turning it into a hell no.

Hey babe

Cool wink for style

He seemed like he'd have something real suave to say until he lost his footing and fell backwards into the water.

Splashing around wildly just as she predicted.

[Fallon]

Fallon looked disgusted. There was no two ways about it. Her nose wrinkled, her lip twitching as the undergarments of the drunk came in her general direction, with the slur of a voice echoing out. She did not need to even look in his general direction to know the state he was in, and judging by the low whine of Orvin and the rapid movement of a paw to cover his eyes it was no doubt far from appealing. The squire released a long sigh, as she heard the floundering of a full grown man in the water. Not that she did anything; she would at least wait for him to start screaming before stepping in.

Sighing, the squire stretched herself out, tapping her back with the wood Tulwar tapping against her back. What a season it had been, from bar brawls, to mages to riding out into the near middle of nowhere. She slid a glance at Maduro. It was a shame that it had to be shared with someone drunk and incapable. Perhaps later –when he was was sober- she would be able to put him to use in helping out around the camp. The undergarments drifted past on the surface of the lake, and precariously Fallon fished them out with the tip of the Tulwar. There was no way she was touching those with her hands, who knew where they had been?

Despite Fallon being quite capable of guessing, she did not. Instead she let them drop to one side before once more resuming her training. She took up her fighting stance, the body of the tulwar hovering about her centre, the hilt at about waist height whilst her free hand hovered next to the wood edge. She rolled her shoulders back, inhaling deeply as she shooed away thoughts of the outside world. She waved away the idea of Maduro, she pushed away the whisper of the wind, and poured all her focus into her hands that held the wood between them. It was drawn back, and then thrusted forward into a wild and uncalculated swing. She brought it whipping round once more, her muscles straining as she grew use to the wild motion that came behind it. The tip arched around as she heard the patter of Orvin moving away to investigate the drunken man.

The blade snapped back as she thought of the movement of a shadow before her, the strange outline of her own thought made enemy came to life. It swung round and she pivoted with it, her feet changing with it whilst she became use to it. In time she would get use to using it effectively, but until then all she could do was practice, for every little bit indeed helped.
x

[Maduro Salvitary]

As Maduro crashed into the lake all he could remember was Fallons grimacing snarl, as the cool water enveloped his form his eyes closed and he relaxed as the water refreshed him. He had time now to self reflect and go over the chain of events, maybe better hands could have been played but he seemed to have not only won this woman's disfavor but he had done so with a level of effortlessness that could only be described as an epic fail.

Of course as he splashed his way to the surface this new found vigor surged through him, the crisp coolness on a spring day bordering summer had a way of sobering the man up. As he came up it had seemed the stink, the dirt, the grime had been all washed away. Underneath the filth there was a man surprisingly, what some might describe as a very good looking guy.

Maduro was in a time out, left to think about his actions.

But even though he had gift wrapped shyk on a stick and gave it to himself, he thought there must be a way to redeem himself and win her favor and moonlight company. He was not an easily defeated individual, now that he had been calmed it was time to figure this out.

Just then Orvin popped out, and Maduro smiled. The woman did not leave, she was still there in his general area. It meant that she was training hard nearby, he'd relax in the cool water and make friends with him. In this heat with the intensity of her training with what she was wearing would be in worse off shape then him in an hours time.

He had decided that he would help her with her training regiment, but only after she came to clean up or retrieve Orvin.

As he pet Orvin from the water his mind stirred with ideas, if he became useful to her squireship and what she needed to do and retained his charm could that undo the damage done and change Fallons perception of him.

When Fallon returned should she

Maduro would be sobered up, still in the water and He'd be relaxing. If he was lucky and she was training hard he'd be able to try round two