Alcohol Before Noon? (Nero, Open)

[Rhuryc]

83rd Day of Summer, 510 AV
Location: The Rearing Stallion

Rhuryc barked out a laugh as he sat at the counter. His head shook in some jovial fashion and he adjusted his weight once on the stool. Both hands drew themselves from the pockets of his thick, leather coat and were set upon the bar with an idle intent; or at least until some form of drink arrived. With a grin, he motioned for the elderly keep before himself and Nero and went about ordering two pints. Whether or not that was the desire of his companion. It was, after all, well before noon, albeit he was wise enough to inform his master that he would not be back until the thirty-first. It seemed that the only path ahead lay in drunkenness and chatter.

"So," He began, his head turning to face Nero and a majority of the early morning inhabitants, those of which were few. Some merchants seeking an early breakfast and other various peasantry, a clerk in the corner, a guardsmen skimping out a few minutes of his shift. The Stallion was such a peculiar entity, taking on a completely different personality based on nothing more than the phase of the sun. With its rise, the tavern was like an old man, clam, quiet, and content with the whole of his past.

"Now that we have drinks, are no longer in danger of slitting each other's throats, and are tired enough to be foolhardy, I do believe your tale is in order." Rhuryc grinned again, the dark, tired bags beneath his eyes no less of a wear on his personality. Human he may well have been, but he did his best to fight such a condition.

[Nero Czan]

With a drink in his hand, and a faint smile across his face, Nero began his story. He began it with a gracious gulp of the hard nectar, a fine move in the current situation. "I was born somewhere in the huge plains of Cyphrus, with a Drykan dad, and a Human mom. People weren't too happy with that, and as such, my life wasn't exactly "peachy" for my childhood. You'll understand the full brunt of that later. I spent my first few years as a kid simply hanging onto the fringes of society, wandering the high-grasses and occasional forests. I'll breeze through the more boring parts, but everything started to look up when a wandering Blacksmith was brought in from Endrykas to help repair some of our assorted tools and what not. Hoping he wouldn't find me 'lesser,' I went to chat with him in the hopes of a friendship, and in return, I gained a lifestyle." He nodded off to a corner of the Tavern, towards a tarp covered over what seemed to be a few bags. "He gave me a book, that I still carry with me today, entailing the life of a Martial Artist, and teaching others how to follow in his ways. Considering I hadn't the remotest idea of what a normal life was, I was more than eager to try it out. So, I spent most of my 6th year, simply training with this man, who, even after his usefulness had been expended, and salary dried, had remained with me." He let out a subtle sigh as he took another sip of his drink, and continued. "But, like everything, it had to come to an end, and one morning I woke up, and Poof. He was gone. Sipher was his name, and he did more for me than anyone in the world, excluding my... Parents. But things were different afterwards. I could stand on my own. No longer was I the social outcast, and before you know it, people had begun to forget my half-blooded heritage, and life was looking up. That was officially the first time that the Gods destroyed my life." He carefully set down the mug, his face remaining completely mutual as he mentally relived the moments of which he spoke. "While I was out with a few of the other children and our teaching, learning how to hunt, one of the boys saw a plume of spoke through the tree-scape. No matter how far you were, you always knew where camp was in those days... and that fire was smack dab in the middle. Our teacher took us to the outskirts of the camp, but it was obvious... There was nothing we could possibly do... The smell of burning flesh was sweeping across the fields, absorbing into the grasses, along with the blood of our clansmen.." There was no physical effort in his speech. It was like most who have trouble recalling tragic memories, who cry and have issues uttering traumatic experiences. Nero, simply put, got lost in the memory. His mind itself would cry, and refuse to speak at times. However, he would continue, just as he forced himself all those years ago. "We ran. Like the childish cowards we were, and never looked back. Our Striders were the only reason we were able to escape alive, and most of us were forced to use one's belonging to family members, which added salt to everyone's wounds..." He finished off his drink, his eyes vaguely focused, and the smirk returned to his face. "And here I came. I followed that exact road we took today here, and began a new life. I was taken in by your typical rich family, hated them in a typical manner, and led a somewhat-typical life. It should've felt great, to regain a lost childhood, but I found out, that typical is so Bland." He chuckled as he looked his companion in the eye. "And ever since, nothing's satisfied me as much as a Nice Adventure, or maybe a good woman." Satisfied with his retelling, Nero laid back for a moment and sighed, his mind mirroring his actions, and simply let the memories die down once more, into the depths of his soul.

[Rhuryc]

Admittedly, that was far more than Rhuryc expected. The tale he spoke was supposed to be a sentence or two of this or that, not the retelling of Nero's life in entirety with enough sorrow to make a maiden cry. Even so, he sat quietly through the telling, somber when it was appropriate and interested when he was supposed to be. Listening, it seemed, was a skill he possessed a mastery of. The pauses in words were met with a lift of a mug and by the time Nero finished Rhuryc found himself staring at the bottom of an empty pint. If there was any cause for more, he had yet to find one. A wave of his hand signaled the tender as he pushed the glass forward and waited for a second offering. When the cup left the counter Rhuryc deemed it appropriate to address his companion in drink, albeit his words were nowhere near as meaningful.

"I suppose that has earned you a second free round." He bobbed his head as he spoke, almost as if he was reassuring himself that his was a proper course of action. "So far as bar stories, go though, I can't top that. I suppose I can relate a bit, at least." Rhuryc paused long enough to thank the tender as his beverage was replenished. "Mentors and all that disappearing. My uncle did something similar, vanished one day when I woke up. Granted, that mystery probably just ends in a ditch somewhere." He grinned and offer a small toast to Nero before he partook in the beginning of his next step to drunkenness.

"Left me this, at least." He said, one hand patting the sheath at his waist. "According to my oh-so trust worthy uncle, it's apparently a weapon gifted to our family by Tyveth himself. If that's true, that God either wanted my ancestor to die or has terrible taste in weaponry." Another laugh and Rhuryc offered Nero a moment of mental reprieve, he hoped. Such seriousness was not healthy so early in the morning.

[Nero Czan]

After his recounting was finished, Nero's expression returned to as it was before. The tale had long since lost all emotional ties, but the mental strain was still an issue, and one that he was constantly reminded of. "Not many stories can..." He had interjected with a grin, before pulling back to his usual self. Nevertheless, he was determined not to let his mood dampen the cheery atmosphere, and with a hearty laugh, joined back into the merriment. "Well, there's a good laugh that the God wanted both. They can be sneaky bastards, when it suits them." He took up his mug and made a toast, audible to most of the crowd, and partaken in by a few. "To Damaged Goods." With the clanking of wood and metal, laughter and cheer, the tavern's mood had just gotten a bit lighter... As he sat back down in his seat, he lifted his mug once more, but this time inconspicuously, and at a private level, said, "To Revelry." And with a smirk, and took a healthy sip of the delicious nectar, and set it back down, allowing his liver some time to catch up. "Now then, after getting a good amount of alcohol in our systems, is it time to talk 'business'?" He chuckled, granted that he could probably make a decent living off of training customers, but that would only dull one of his only true loves in this world, and the Gods forbid if he did that. "I'm eager to see how well you can use that God-Given sword of yours, and even more-eager to see how well you can fight with it. Consider this a free piece of advice, seeing as you're kind enough to pay for my drinks. Some Skill with a weapon is different from Skill Fighting with a weapon. There is a lot more to fighting than being able to swing your weapon six different ways. Footwork, Anticipation, Tactics, Surroundings. All of these and a few more, depending if I can remember or not, are involved in a battle, and it is the fighter who considers all of these before swinging his sword that will come out the Victor."

[Rhuryc]

"To revelry indeed." Rhuryc whispered, his mug lifted once more to draw from his lips.

"Hmph. My training wasn't really all that traditional." He grinned and set the pint back on the table. With a single hand he pushed back one of the flaps of his coat and with the other he pulled his tunic down to reveal the scar that bore almost the entire length of his chest. Albeit the brunt of it remained hidden. "My 'teacher' believed that the only good education was a real one. A patrol of Knights actually arrested him, once, in confusion. They thought he was trying to kill me." Another bark, Rhuryc seemed to keep that particular memory in some degree of fondness. In truth he was not quite sure his uncle had not been trying to kill him.

"But right. Business. Sparing with live-steel isn't really my idea of entertainment, but I will take you up on those, ah, lessons?" That was spoken with some degree of confusion. The idea of a casual teacher in combat seemed a little strange to him. "I don't think the forgemaster would mind a drop-by today, either. I could probably knock that gauntlet of yours back into shape in no time."

[Nero Czan]

Nero simply chuckled, "Well, I guess if he was taken for attacking you, he was at least sparring right." He shrugged, the restrained laughter still in his voice. He often tried to make the best out of any situation, no matter how humorous. This was no exception. Teacher or not, setting an example by being arrested is typically not a good strategy, in any subject. Knowing his bad luck, Nero was now considering the possibility of getting arrested himself, but shirked it off as just another risk of Adventure. Nero was excited. That was the best way to describe his state before Any type of fighting, and even more appropriate in the case of sparring, where Death usually didn't loom on the edge of the field. "Excellent. I'm sure you'll have some fun yourself. I'm certain I will. Whenever you're ready, we can set out and begin. I know a nice spot in the Stone Garden where I've gone to spar a few times, without incident." He set hid drink down, the mug empty bar a few desperate drops, and leaned his back against the counter. "I don't think Kevith would enjoy us sparring here after all." With his usual smirk in hand, he absent-mindfully cracked his knuckles, checking his joints for any stiff muscles. He straightened his Gi a bit, for no obvious reason, and felt a grin come across his face, albeit a playful one. Today was going to be a fun day.

[Rhuryc]

With only half of his second cup drained, Rhuryc produced a single gold coin and tossed it onto the counter. He seemed unconcerned with paying so hefty a price for only three drinks and did, indeed, not care. Without much ado he pushed himself up from the uncomfortable bar tool and gave Nero a curt nod as he turned about. The advantage to his profession was most definitely the ability to drink and not feel a thing. He got enough exercise for seven people,

"I'm not so sure the Knights would appreciate us squaring off in the garden either; it's a bit sacred to them." As strange as that sounded to Rhuryc he knew that a random brawl in what was the closest thing to a graveyard in the city would not end well. Either they would have to find some long forgotten causeway or depart from the walls entirely.

The thud of his boots against the wooden flooring echoed after him as he made his way from the tavern. Each step seemed to contain a quiet exhilaration beneath the surface - really, the boyishness inside the man's spirit was excited at the idea of a competition of martial prowess. Admittedly, it had been some time since Rhuryc had participated in any sort of combat.

"If we make our way out of the city, though, I'm sure we could avoid notice and keep ourselves from the stocks."

[Nero Czan]

Nero let out a sarcastic sigh, his companion at least proving he wasn't ignorant. "Fine. We'll do it your way." He popped to his feet, and rummaging through his bag, put together a nice set of rations and other supplies suited for a long day on the field. As he slung the sack over his shoulder, he smirked to his companion. "Shall we then? There's a nice grove a couple miles North of the city that I usually go to for study. It'll do for this as well." He motioned for Rhuryc to follow him, and as soon as they had arrived, they were out the door. Again. The realization hit him the moment they stepped foot on the hard stone road, and it was accompanied by a sigh. "I don't see why we didn't save ourselves the trouble and just stayed out in the wild..." The walk to the grove had been uneventful. Nero had pointed out a few exotic animals along their path, dashing between trees and bushes. He began sharing details about their habits, predators, and other assorted facts. Granted, he didn't truly care, and his companion probably didn't either, but it helped keep the awkward silence at bay, and pass the time as they walked, yet again, down the road. Eventually he took a side path, seemingly heading into nowhere, the thick forest stretching out as far as sight would reach. After about half an hour on a straight, dull, and tree-filled path, Nero took a pause as he recalled the directions. And, as with most things, it wasn't exactly clear. It could've been take a right at the scratched Oak, or was it left... And was it the scratched one, or the burned one? Eh. They'll all work... And so, letting his mind's subtle intuition, otherwise known as random selection, choose the result of the entire day, They went Left. After about another half an hour of skeptical strolling, in which Nero claimed full knowledge of his whereabouts, they had arrived at the grove. It was a medium patch of short grass, surrounded on three sides by the giant forest which engulfed their current world, and by a small brook on the fourth. Small critters frequented the site, and as such, Nero's first task was to go around the perimeter, scuffing the grass with the heels of his thick boots, which did well enough whenever he was around. The loud noises of battle would do well to warn them as well, so he was not too concerned. When he had finished setting his equipment down on an arm-height boulder, Nero set down his cloak, and started on some preliminary stretches. "Get yourself ready mate. Today's going to be a long day." And with a grin that could only be rivaled by an imp of the void, Nero was preparing to play with his new friend.

[Rhuryc]

"Friend, so far as I know, a drink is always wroth the diversion." Rhuryc grinned after Nero as they made their way from the city, entirely satisfied with the enormous degree of travel.

In their continued trek Rhuryc spent his time learning. He knew next to nothing about the wilderness, and in stark contrast to his ignorance Nero was able to pinpoint trails and navigate his way through the darkened corridors of the wood. When Nero spoke, Rhuryc listened. He paid close attention to the explanation of the passing creatures, what they feared, and how they worked inside their own societies. He was careful to watch, as well, and attempted to find just what it was his companion observed to know his path. So far as the young blacksmith was concerned, Nero might have been a woodland ranger with the sheer amount of knowledge he spewed, so what remained idle conversation for him was a fascination for Rhuryc.

The grove was a pleasant discovery. If there was any combat to be had, this place was better than most. And best yet there were no guards. While Nero busied himself with his own practices Rhuryc kept to a rather simple routine. The scrape of metal on leather alerted the world to the unsheathing of his blade and he spent a good while examining the blade. His intention was unclear, but eventually his gaze left the weapon in favor for his immediate area, noting imperfections, footholds, and possible advantages for a fight. Next, he tossed his pack onto the ground and moseyed toward the brook where he took to a single knee, sword placed in the ground as his head lowered. Praying? Before a spar? Queer. Nevertheless it was a practice Rhuryc was familiar with, a quick proceeding to Tyveth before he engaged in any sort of combat, no matter how sporting.

Once finished Rhuryc raised himself from the ground and dusted off his coat, that of which he appeared to intent to leave on. While primarily an article of clothing the thick, heavyset leather made for a suitable deterrent and supplication of the man's skin. After all, he could just buy another coat. He flurried the blade and turned about, prepared now for the worst of it.

[Nero Czan]

Nero was never as excited as he was on the verge of fight. He rarely sparred against weapons as well, so this was in itself a rare treat. The grin, sprawled wide across his face, told his emotions like a painter's canvas. He had retrieved the more exotic of his gauntlets, the three smooth prongs extending out from his knuckles purposefully made for trapping a blade. For this fight, it would be used simply a parrying tool, lest he damage his partner's weapon. He strapped that one onto his left hand, as he tightened the right, the metallic fist becoming attuned to his movements. The weight difference was substantial, and he was not certain how well he'd fare if he ever decided to switch hands. He mentally shrugged the thought away as he returned to the scene, his grin exploding with energy. As he stood there, facing his, for the moment, opponent, he gently cracked his knuckles, beginning the same lecture that he was given, years upon years ago. "Seeing as you're somewhat versed in combat, I'll go ahead and breeze through some of the more rudimentary parts." He cleared his throat as he continued, his voice deepening in a slightly mocking tone, as a senior professor might do. This had been a habit of his whenever he recalled something of Sipher's, and it was one that never died. "Rule Number One of Unarmed Combat." He motioned the sword to his side as he continued on. "Nev-... Actually, this could be more interesting as an example. A good warm-up at the least" Nero swiftly stepped into a neutral stance, his legs parallel and shoulder-width, his arms extended in front of him, level with his waist. Afterwards, his wild, excited grin morphed into a self-satisfied smirk, as one would see the Reaper of Death wearing. Naturally, this was all for show, but Nero did not pass up an opportunity at Fun. "Well, Come on then. Get me in the center of my chest and we can Continue." Nero swung his head in an arc, his neck subtly cracking as his muscles stretched. "Good Luck, mate." And the long day had only just begun.