Closed [Bronze Woods] Meeting the Squire.

[Medhozic]

Time Stamp: 2nd Day, Winter 513AV. "He'll be around shortly." Those were the last words - probably spoken about a bell ago from Natasha Druva, the knight that he'd previously trained with. Making good on her offer to find a squire for him to work alongside, it'd barely been a few days before she'd turned up again in the Bronze Woods and given him a name - Cromley Stronghammer. Well, the name sounded good enough to ride on - although, hammers weren't exactly his thing. She'd disappeared shortly afterwards though, refusing to answer his questions - confidentiality, she'd called it, although he didn't have the faintest clue what that meant. It was like she didn't want him to know anything about the man that she'd brought out of nowhere. Like a mystery date. North Kabrin Road had been ten chimes to walk down along the edge of the forest, and a bell or so later he was waiting on the familiar outskirts of the Bronze Woods, his short-bow drawn and an arrow notched as he stalked slowly between the barren trees. He felt like he was getting better - somewhat. It still took far too long to set up for a good strike, and he still had no clue how to climb the skeletal remains of the hunched trees; not that there was much point anymore, due to the foliage stripped bare from the limbs and leaving hardly anything to camouflage ones' self from potential prey, rather just giving them a very clear image of you from whatever burrow under the packed dirt that they hid away under and giving a very clear message for 'where not to go'. He wondered vaguely what it would be like when the snow began to fall and the days grew colder and shorter - on one hand, it'd mean that he'd be much more able to catch the nocturnal animals. However, wasn't this about the time that many of the animals of the forest went into hibernation? He'd never be able to catch them if they never even left their little hidey-holes in the first place, and the thought of that sent a long sigh tumbling from his cracked marble lips. It meant that in terms of this meeting, it was hardly the best time, in reality - he only had a short amount of time, around the beginnings of Winter, to find and hunt down enough game to collect his salary, otherwise he'd be living off silver Miza's by Spring and he didn't like the sound of that, really. The bowstring was tight but the arrow faced the floor; he hadn't found anything yet. And he was still waiting for Cromley, although he didn't particularly look like it. He didn't venture far from the road, along the same small spot in the hopes that something would pass by the area close enough for him to take a good try with, but not too close - otherwise it'd see him and scatter quite quickly. Although, with an empty backpack slung over one shoulder , for prey, clattering rather noisily against the leather quiver over the opposite shoulder, and the Kopis hanging at his hip, they would most likely hear him long before they'd see him. He sounded like a particularly rubbish fanfare. Let's see what these squires have to offer, then. If they're as good as the knights, I think I might have to stick around Syliras for a while longer.

[Cromley Stronghammer]

The 2nd day of Winter posed some interesting abnormalities to Cromley's schedule. He had gotten up as usual donned his armor and started heading to the training ground to begin his daily routine of training and studying. However as soon as he set foot on the training grounds he saw his patron Victor approach from across the training grounds. He was accompanied by a woman who Cromley had only seen once. Victor introduced her as Natasha Druva, a fellow knight like himself. "Today you will follow Natasha's instructions, Cromley. I expect you will follow them to the letter," instructed Victor. "Yes Ser!" Cromley replied. I wonder what she has in store for me. For Victor to leave me in her instruction for the day it must be something important. "You are to report to then edge of the Bronze Woods outside Syliras. There will be a man named Medhozic there who you are to train with. Perhaps you two could learn from each other," Natasha said. "Aye Sera. I will report there immediately," replied Cromley. He returned to the dormitories only long enough to grab his trusty mace, quiver and shortbow then he hurried with his equipment in hand to the gates. The journey to the woods was not long, only a bit longer than a bell. However this might be due to the pace that Cromley took. He was always excited to meet new potential allies and training partners, however he knew little about the man called Medhozic, only that he was to train with him. Training in what still puzzled Cromley as he new none of the man's skills and this set him a bit on edge. I expect that this Medhozic must be at least a somewhat skilled fighter to attract the attention of a knight as prestigious as Natasha Druva. Or maybe it's not that he's skilled in battle that attracted her attention. Maybe he uses magic and wants to learn how to fight. Anyway wondering such things only serve to worsen my confusion. Better to just take the opportunity as a blessing and learn. As he approached the edge of the woods Cromley slowly began getting a very uneasy feeling in his gut. Nervously he grabed his mace and raised his shield. This all seems way too easy and Cromley knows too little about the man to trust him. Slowly he approached the woods and began to look around. This area is much to tight to fight comfortably. Way to much cover for ambush. But then again why would Natasha send me all the way out here if not for good intentions. "My name is Cromley Stronghammer" he called out. "I come seeking a man called Medhozic, by order of Knight Natasha Druva. If you are here show yourself and we won't have to come to blows." Cromley said this with the full intention of being intimidating. Although he knew he must have sounded a bit nervous seeing as he himself didn't not fully believe the level of confidence he was portraying. Now all that remained was to wait and see if anyone showed themselves and what their intentions were.

[Medhozic]

Shyke. That was the noise of the rabbit running off into the distance, the one that he'd been slowly following with his bow over the course of at least ten chimes, as it raised its head and disappeared a moment later at the loud announcement of some deep voice not too far off behind the tree that he balanced on, the one that threatened to break if he didn't keep his balance and crouch carefully. Well, there goes my prey. Briefly, he considered actually just turning and launching the arrow off at the man, to show him a lesson in stealth; then again, as much as he wanted to, it wouldn't do well for relations with a potential new partner, and besides, he wasn't exactly fantastic with a bow in the first place. Most likely he'd end up making an idiot out of himself - a man with no skill in a sword needed to maintain the illusion that he was at least good at something, and as long as he had a bow, he'd make damn sure that the squire at least thought he was good at that, else he'd be a walking target for any jest, or insult that he wished to throw. And that was a very bad situation, because when the strong always fed from the weak. And he was strong. Weak was for the rabbits. His arrow was un-notched and slid back into his quiver, and the bow slung over his shoulder so that the drawstring lightly chafed against his breast. A few seconds of slow breathing to steady himself, and then he moved off his kneeling position and slid down from the rather low-hanging branch to land on his feet with a clatter of his gear, several steps away from Cromley. A glance over the squire made him quickly realise how he was dressed in a much less.. befitting choice of clothes - here the new squire stood in armor, whereas the mysterious Ethaefal was in a pressed white shirt lightly scratched and stained a faint shade of green, which matched perfectly with the two horns that slanted from just behind his temples, and just above his ears with tapered points holding back a curtain of shaggy bark-brown hair; uncut, matted and nearly reaching down to his shoulders. He looked like some scruffy ruffian that had spent a little too long playing hide-and-seek with his friends than any posing threat. "Greetings. I am Medhozic." His voice sounded oddly formal to his ears, for some reason that he couldn't quite explain. His rational mind told him that it was a good thing - the boy needed to be shown that he wasn't some squire to come to blows with, and certainly wasn't someone that he was going to become all buddy-buddy with. He was here to train with an Ethaefal - one that wasn't particularly skilled in anything at all, but he wasn't going to tell the squire that, and neither would he give the squire any reason to think of it. The first thing - distract him with questions. "Why have you brought a mace." A few seconds pause, and then he launched into answering his own question in order to purposefully throw him. "A mace will be useless in a forest where an opponent can hide in the trees. That is why you have a short-bow."

[Cromley Stronghammer]

Cromley was a bit taken aback when a man hopped out of a tree not far from him wearing no armor and wielding a shortbow. The man looked almost nothing like he had imagined. I mean here Cromley was expecting a man slightly older than him, which he got, however it were the features that astonished him. He had never seen a man with horns before let alone so exotic looking. No matter. It did not impact the fact that this man, Medhozic, was still his assignment. When Medhozic spoke it sounded very formal. Almost like he was not relaxed in the situation either however whether he was relaxed or not was the least of Cromley's concerns. What did concern him however was the fact that he knew next to nothing about Medhozic besides the fact that he was agile and was probably a hunter judging by the bow and garb. The next remark took him by surprise however. The fact that Cromley had the mace wasn't meant to be a show of incompetence. It's just the fact that his mace is the weapon he is most skilled at, and if fighting in melee occurs he wished to be prepared. "Cromley Stronghammer. Although I'm sure you already knew that. And this is true that a mace is not necessarily ideal in a forested terrain, however at melee it is a very powerful weapon for it's size making it ideal for medium to short range combat. And I think you know why I brought my bow as well." Cromley was a bit uneasy by the fact that Medhozic was being so forward with a him. It felt almost like he was compensating for something but Cromley could not quite put his finger on what for though, after all not many people treat the knights with such smugness and confidence. Although at the same time Cromley wondered if he was acting so confident because he knew he had the skill to overpower Cromley. Not that it mattered a whole lot to Cromley. Surely Natasha would not have sent me here if she did not think I could handle myself. So I wonder what she had in mind for us to learn. After all she did tell me that we could learn from each other. "Now, Medhozic, let me see what you take from this. Natasha told me when she sent me here that we could BOTH learn from each other. So tell me what could a knight of her position have seen in you to warrant bringing us together." Cromley waited a tick for a response. "I mean you look like you are not particularly dressed or equipped for open combat. So it must be something else. Perhaps hunting or something magical. Either way whatever you can teach I will accept as long as you do the same with knowledge I can impart. I do have one question however. I have never seen a human that looks quite like you. What do you call yourself?"

[Medhozic]

He tried not to wrinkle his nose. The human in him was gone - removed to the night, where none could see his weaker form, the man who he once was. He was something better now.. the marble skin, smooth and without blemish; the curled horns, a mark of knowledge and danger; like a statue. A grand statue, that could survive for countless seasons without even the slightest wear.. not like a human. Not like a human at all. And if this 'Stronghammer' thought that he was going to find a shred of humanity in him, he'd be dead wrong. "Powerful as long as you can see who you are swinging at." He let the thought linger, and again, didn't give the man time to reply before he turned his back and drew one arrow from the quiver, unlatching the short-bow from around his shoulder to let it hang at his hip, on the opposite side of the Kopis. As he pushed aside the low-hanging branches and occasionally snapped them under his grip, he begun to talk; obviously, he intended for the squire to follow, though hidden underneath the unspoken order. He wasn't stupid enough to simply order him around, as long as he didn't have the skill to back the authority. He focused on his words, language - trying to press for information while revealing nothing about himself. "I call myself Medhozic. And if she has not tell you, she had intentions in mind that she would not want you to know of. It is unsurprising." He had no clue, other than her interest in bringing a squire of any sort, as to why she had chosen Cromley specifically. Maybe he was the first random person that she'd found, and persuaded. Maybe she'd been conversing with others to find one of a similar stature; why she'd go through such lengths for a man that she'd barely met was anyone's guess, and he wasn't anyone. Though the thoughts didn't plague him anymore than he let them, and soon his concentration was snatched by rustling of mulch-encrusted earth a few steps away. He adopted a crouching stance, lifted the bow and brought the arrow up, notched and ready with a smooth swing; the limbs creaked softly as the drawstring tightened and he poised in place. Unlike many times before, it was a smoother motion;though that motion took a while longer than it should, and he only hoped that the knight would not notice it, or at least comment. That would just mean he'd feed more lies to the man, and leave him to figure them all out later. He'd be out of the forest and out of the Castle long before that. He'd be off in the world. "If you scare my rabbit, I will skin you." Hardly likely that he could, but he said it with conviction. But what came out wasn't even a rabbit.. a small baby boar; most likely a runt, due to its diminutive size and its slight swagger as it moved towards him, apparently either unconcerned of the predator or half-blind. Obviously, it would not survive the season - it was why it had been separated from its mother. It could not find shelter, and it would not fall asleep on the ground and become food for any predator that happened to wander through. It was still feeble, and weak - perfect prey. The one from before had been larger.. but still. When the child stopped and pressed at a particularly uninteresting branch, the arrow shot through the air and struck it on the side. Not a very powerful, or even a very accurate shot unfortunately, because it managed to begin lolloping off at an uneven and frantic pace, dragging the arrow behind it stuck into one of its legs at the joint. But it was wounded, and all that was needed was to follow it. Or bring it down during the run. "Here's your chance, Stronghammer." He didn't turn around, only lowered the bow and gracefully lifted up into an upright stance. "Don't let it get away. I warmed it up for you so that it wouldn't be so easy." He could already tell that he was going to have some fun with this man, regardless of how he was obviously trying to maintain himself as more of a Knight and less of a simple Knight-In-Training. It suited the Ethaefal fine - the bigger they were, the harder they fell. And hadn't he said something earlier about the two of them needing to both learn from this little experience? Well, he did want something they could both learn.

[Cromley Stronghammer]

Taking the bow off of his back Cromley notched an arrow in preparation to take a follow up shot at the boar that Medhozic had just injured. From the looks of the shot Cromley deduced that, luckily, Medhozic was roughly the same skill with the shortbow as he was. Even though he was not exactly new to shooting the bow it still felt unnaturally light and flimsy in his hands. As he drew the bow he could feel it's surprising power in his hand. The boar was limping at a pretty slow pace due to the arrow in it's leg already so aiming the shot was fairly easy for Cromley. As he loosed the arrow he knew the shot did not have as much power behind it as the shots he had taken in training with the weapon, however he was still confident that it could kill the boar. While the shot was not as accurate as he had liked it still struck the boar just under the shoulder. The boar only had to take a couple more steps before it collapsed under the weight of it's own body and the pain from the arrows. Cromley looked over at Medhozic. "Do you at least know how to butcher it. Or are you just going to take it back to town and sell it?" Cromley hoped that Medhozic at least had some knowledge as to what you would do with the animal. Well the boar at least went down easier than expected. Now the question is what do we do with it. Cromley's father had not been very keen on hunting saying the knights would feed and clothe them so they need not worry about such things. As such this was Cromley's first experience hunting at all. At least I got lucky and killed it. Medhozic would not let me hear the end of it if I did not. Cromley then walked over to the boar and removed the arrow. The arrow proved a bit difficult to remove but at least it came in one piece. He cleaned the arrow with a shred of cloth from his tunic and put it back in his quiver. This event had stirred a bit of confidence in Cromley. Perhaps he had some skill with the bow. At least it was worth practicing though. Though he would not be fighting much with the bow as a knight but he still knew it would at least be worth training in it just in case. "Now then Medhozic. Now that your boar has been killed. Care to learn a bit of the ways of the knights. That is if you're up for a spar. Of course I don't know how beat up you want to get those knives of yours though," Cromley said with a bit of a smirk.

[Medhozic]

He tried not to narrow his eyes, but failed. It was obvious that the cocky attitude soon emerging from the man, would need a notch taken down from, but he didn't hold enough skill to actually push him down that level. He could taste it though, the blade clashing with the squires shoulder, rattling that head of his... Soon, the Kopis at his side was unsheathed and he wasted little time passing the squire and lifting the curved knife, slamming it home against the side of the boars neck and beginning to scissor it along the throat, careful to keep the sudden spurts of blood from staining his scuffed shirt until the neck was freed and rolled over the cold earth. "Of course I know how to butcher it. Be glad that it isn't you, should a harsher foe be present amongst the forest floor." His interest had become lacked, now that the other knew of his weakness in so many fields, and showing any more would certainly be a recipe for disaster. But if he resisted, it would show him as equally weak. Only after the right shoulder had been removed from the small, but mighty beast, and the left was in the process of being removed did he lift his head again to Cromley. "You cannot teach me the way of the Knights; you are not a Knight. But I will agree to a spar." That should satisfy him. The rucksack was unlodged from his shoulder and each of the pieces of meat was loaded into it, the arm-joints and then the leg-joints, followed at last by the torso. The head was left - there would be little use for it due to its lack of meat. But the rucksack was abandoned under a tree with the ropes firmly tied to stop anything from getting inside, before he turned and rose before Cromley, the blood-stained Kopis still hanging from his palm. "Are you ready, then." He had something prepared, anyway - a mace may be a strong close-range weapon, but it was also quite slow for recovery due to its weight. The Kopis was curved, light.. if he could find a way to use it in a more nimble fashion than the other man, then he could survive and refrain from looking like a complete idiot. Yet, as much as he told himself this, he still knew that it wasn't true. Which was probably why he had the same expression as a deer caught in the sights of a hunter.

[Cromley Stronghammer]

As soon as Medhozic said he was not a knight something flared up in Cromley that he did not expect. Suddenly he felt himself reaching towards his mace with quite a bit of anger welling up. Cromley then walked toward his shield and picked it up while taking his mace on his belt. That was low Medhozic. Insulting the knights insults me as well. Now I have no reason to hold back. You better hope that Natasha or Victor come in time. Cromley took position opposite Medhozic and began his classic technique of circling with his shield up and mace at the ready. He noticed that Medhozic's stance was stable yet still quite awkward. Although perhaps Medhozic stood this way to throw Cromley off. Either way Cromley would be ready for whatever assault this man would throw. Or at least he hoped. However in this fight it would be Cromley that took the first swing. Cromley circled his opponent searching for an opening. Medhozic was undefended though which lead Cromley to believe he would try to get around his defenses with sheer speed. Cromley would have to be extra aggressive to force Medhozic on the defensive. That would easily grant him the upper hand. Perhaps I shall try a pincer attack of sorts. Keeping my shield on my left side will hopefully prevent counterattack from that side and if he tries to evade left he will only run into my mace even harder. This leaves his only realistic option to either evade to my left/his right into a defended area and not be able to counter or backstep my blow, which will hopefully put him off balance and open to another attack. Whelp here goes nothing! Quickly, Cromley advanced on Medhozic ready for whatever reaction Medhozic had for him. He was on the offensive though and he took the powerful swing along Medhozic's left side. Channeling all his anger at the cocky man into his swing he thought, Hopefully this will get him to realize that insulting the knights comes with pain. Especially this close to Syliras.

[Medhozic]

He watched, and waited. Even from this distance, the man obviously had some foul temperament on him. In its own way, it was funny; like watching a bull stomping around, getting madder and madder. The only problem was that this bull had metaphorical horns that could easily gouge him wide open. And he had literal horns, which in this situation were absolutely useless. And he'd brought it all on himself by saying the truth. The man wasn't a knight, he was a squire, which was why he'd been brought for work. He was a squire, training to become a knight. If the man had been a knight, then surely, he'd have gone to Cromley and asked him for help, but here was Cromley, being sent to him for help instead.. and now the human was probably about to try and kill him. And unless he could put his worries of using a Kopis against a mace at the back of his head, and find some other way around this quite-distressing situation, he was going to end up with a lot of bruises. So, obviously, the solution lay straight in his face - show the human a thing or two, and then call it a day before the squire could try for a rematch. Or get his ribcage smashed to pieces by a big ball of metal on a stick. Wait.. big ball of metal. Maces aren't that sharp. Maces were just made for a lot of power.. which could be seen as the Ethaefal jumped back to stop his stomach from being strewn over the floor. Though in his mind, he was practically buzzing with this new revelation, watching the man prepare long, fluid strikes - but that was just it. They were long swings, because the man didn't have power in the mace itself, only the amount of power that he put behind it. He had power in his Kopis, though - which, miraculously, still hadn't been drawn from his side - which could be used to his advantage, however small and near-useless it might be. Because of course, the squire-knight had much more proficiency in his weapons and was perfectly trained for this kind-of situation, with bells upon bells in that clammy petching Fighters' Pits, working constantly on drills and other nonsensical things in order to make his mace a tool of destruction. After the slight hop, though, he didn't do anything. He needed to observe.. being as completely useless as he was, and drawing the Kopis to hang before him like some kind of one-handed fishing rod, he needed something to work with. He needed an opening.. of course, the shield didn't help. Where was his shield? No matter.. he'd just have to work around the shield. Or through the shield. Or whatever way he could in order to avoid any significant damage, or preferably, any damage at all. His fall may have damaged his mind, but it was an entirely different thing, damaging ones body where everyone could see it so... and he didn't want that. It would be a sign of his weakness, that he had allowed someone to wound him, nearly kill him.

[Cromley Stronghammer]

As Cromley was swinging his mace he glanced up to see the young man jump back to dodge his strike fairly easily. Admittedly it was not difficult to dodge an attack like that but Cromley was still reasonably impressed. At least Medhozic was paying attention and was at least slightly agile. This was going to be an interesting fight at least. Cromley raised his shield and readied his mace once again to strike at Medhozic and noticed that he had drawn his Kopis and was standing looking ready to counter whatever Cromley threw at him. The question now was whether Medhozic could actually hold up in a fight. The way Medhozic is holding his kopis however says he doesn't have very much experience with them, so Cromley felt he had the clear advantage in this fight. He had to be careful though. That kopis looked sharp. If he let his guard down he would surely take a blow that was unneeded. And after all it wouldn't look too good to limp back to Syliras with a gash from a rookie. So now it came down to Cromley deciding what course of action to take. He would need to keep up the offensive in order to win this fight easily. Although it would not be hard to turn defense into offense against an inexperienced fighter but the easy route was to simply strike hard and fast so that Medhozic could not react easily. He better land a blow soon. After all one strong blow from his mace will probably cripple Medhozic fairly quickly so better to just strike and end the fight quickly. Cromley decided to try a similar tactic to the one he just attempted. After all it was safe, did not expend much energy on his part, and powerful. He would just have to aim for a different spot. Perhaps the legs this time. Hopefully Medhozic will be too occupied with my lunge to notice the mace coming for his knees. That would surely cripple him if he does not see the attack. Once he decided he lunged, making sure to keep his shield between himself and Medhozic, while bringing his mace around to strike at his legs. Time to see if he is as agile as he looks. OOCHey sorry for the long lag between posts