Completed Getting Too Serious. III

[Medhozic]

17th Day of Winter, 513AV. The Fighters Pits were all too well-known to him now, after becoming acquainted in two gruelling sessions. However, on his way there, it seemed there were other plans set out. Passing through the crowds towards the entrance to the courtyard, he bumped into a familiar Benshira that tried to keep his head down. The Ethaefal turned in surprise, however, and stopped him with a hand on the boy-squires shoulder. Just as he'd suspected - it was the boy from the previous encounters. Though it seemed alien to see him today - he had his longsword, but he also had a short-bow and a quiver of arrows almost identical to his own. And he wasn't even heading towards the pits, he was heading towards the exit of the city walls and towards North Kabrin Road. Curiouser and curiouser. "So, we meet again..." He trailed off, trying to remember the name that he'd never been given. Strain must have been more obvious on his face than he'd anticipated. "Lethava." The reply was quick and curt; he was angry about something. "Yes. What are you doing here; not in the Fighters Pits. I was just about to come and see you." It seemed that the boy-squire was the only reason that he went there - the little wooden dummy's were useless once one had spent more than five chimes with them, and after that it was just a petching waste of time to continue hitting them and not get any response. Real battles weren't fought when one would stand still and the other would repeatedly hit them with a big blunt sword. "I got removed. Gerard found I was a squire. My patron wasn't happy either that I'd been working in that place in my spare time." It must have been recent because the boy was visibly still fuming over the idea that he had been removed from such a place. His mind wandered over why he didn't simply go to the Training Grounds - it was the boys own choice, though. He wouldn't push his judgement based on assumption. "And now you are beginning training in the forests instead." "Range training." He had a short-bow strapped to his back in a similar way to how the Ethaefal preferred, but there was also a long-sword strapped to his side with a leather holster. It seemed almost comical, if not for the fact that it made him look very intimidating to be decked with such large weapons. It was a shame that Medhozic hadn't brought his own - they could have had some little competitions. But he still turned and began to follow Lethava through the small crowds that had gathered at regular intersections. "If you want to come along, you're welcome to." It was a stupid thing to say - he'd been following the human for a while now already. "I've got a spare dagger somewhere too, if you want to try some of that." It sounded absolutely perfect.

[Medhozic]

As they cleared the Syliran walls, they began to talk. It was too loud on the streets to be able to have idle chatter without having to raise ones voice over the clamour of the streets and the many commoners and squires alike that seemed to form a raging river of their collective bodies, with all the noise of one as well. "Why do you spend so much time in the Fighters Pits. Or why did you." It seemed like a fruitless thing - the squires had their own places to practice, after all, there must have been somewhere otherwise the Pits wouldn't have been made off-limits. Apart from the fact that Gerard wasn't going to have the knights on his ground. Which was fair enough in the end - land was land, and not all of it could belong to the knights. One didn't get all of the enemies to be friends - more likely the friends to become the enemies. "I like the atmosphere. Y'know, just.. left alone to go as you will." Seemed fair enough.. "Besides, they just let you get on with it. Not like other places." The boy-squire let out somewhat of a dejected sigh at that, nearly melancholy. "And you cannot simply push them aside. To train as you wish." It seemed slightly odd, in his own ears, but the knights had their own ways of going about things and he had his. There was some unseen pact. "If I could, do you think I would have?" "If you cannot then find others who will." The boy looked up, contemplating the advice quietly before focusing down on his own feet. He didn't answer though and their conversation ended as abruptly as it had started until they had found their way into the forests, just outside the edge of the North Kabrin Road, where he set aside his short-bow and pulled out his longsword, as well as a dagger to hand over to the Ethaefal. There was at least enough room between the trees that there wouldn't be worry of accidentally hitting one with even a longsword, and they were still far enough from the roads that nobody would happen to glance in and find the two battling it out. After all, they didn't want someone thinking that it was a real fight and running in with all swords flailing. "You ready? I don't have to worry too much about injuring you here." Although his words were spoken in jest, it sent a small shiver up the centre of Medhozic's back that had his grip on the small borrowed dagger tightening all the more. Because in truth, he was right. He didn't need to worry about damaging, injuring or fatally wounding the Ethaefal with even the small distance between the roads and the woodland that seemed to be almost neutral territory. They were all alone, out in the forest and from the knights and the others' aid. Not many knights ever passed through the forests except to practice their horse-riding skills and their archery, and even those few barely paid much attention to anything except themselves. The weapons were real, sharp and easily able to damage. This was about as close to a real fight as he'd been, apart from those other small incidents that didn't really count. Still, he felt confident that with a weapon he could defend himself from any real danger, whether proposed by the old 'friend' or his worst enemy. After all, he'd been practicing, hadn't he? "Of course. Begin whenever you are ready." He got into a stance while the boy-squire did the same. Feet spread shoulder-width apart, the blade held in one fist and the other hand spread out for balance, crouched down ever-so-slightly and prepared for whatever strike might come. Be fast, be swift.. faster than an arrow, like a deer. Lethavan was preparing as well with the longsword gripped between both hands, focused and ready with one foot pushed before the other, ready for an offense. And indeed, as soon as they were both ready, he came straight in for it with a strike down to the side of his shoulder with all the force he could go for. It surprised Medhozic beyond widening of the eyes - this was supposed to be a spar, wasn't it? Right?

[Medhozic]

At least he managed to step aside before the blow came crashing down, and it imbedded itself into the soil with a dull thump that sounded like it could have crushed rock. Somewhere along the line, Lethavan's strategy had become sluggish and slow. That, or his own attacks had become much faster. Either way, what had once been more comedy than actual fighting with a clear victor, now became a maelstrom of attacks that didn't seem to lead anywhere. His training had paid off more than he'd anticipated, and now with the second strike rising up to try and slash diagonally for his left hip to right shoulder, he was able to duck and take a step right so that it swung up well past his left shoulder and over his head. When the strike cleared, he set a triple-attack of three individual stabs around his chest and stomach. The boy looked alarmed, but didn't stop - he switched up his moves again and brought the heavy sword down, and then up, and then side to side. The first attack, he stepped aside from, and then aside again when he tried to bring it up from the same position. And around the attacks, he tried his own attacks. Most of them were easily passed away with a few steps in the right direction, since the range was so small, and the longsword so large.. he swore that it could have easily cut through three men if they lined back-to-breast. But he tried not to let that daunt him as he ducked under horizontal strikes and caught the flat of the longsword on the smaller dagger to push it up and disrupt the balance of the strike. Neither squire nor Ethaefal had that much experience in long-term combat though. As the strikes wove on, with a few gained here and a few lost there - an exceptionally fierce strike nicking Medhozic's forearm and drawing a bit of blood that shone against his marble skin - they were soon panting for breath and their strikes became slower and more sluggish. It wasn't too bad for Medhozic, because the boy's strikes were becoming slower and easier to step aside for. But for Lethavan, it was quite the opposite. He was obviously struggling to lift his sword, let alone pass a decent strike against the combatant that made strike after strike against his shoulders, chest, stomach, thighs and even one on the back of the hand that held the sword, making him drop it with a loud clamor as it bounced off a jutting rock. "Let's.. take a break." The boy was gasping as he finally collapsed onto the floor and dragged the sword up to rest on his lap. The Ethaefal, for his part, leaned against a tree. It was by far, the most invigorating session that they'd had in a long time. Doubtless, when they'd both regain their breath, it'd just become even fiercer. "That sounds like a plan." It did. "And while we do. Tell me, who decided to call you Lethavan."

[Medhozic]

"My parents did, of course." He leaned back against the small bushes and absently stroked his longsword, over the flat edge. "Don't know why. Guess it just sounded nice." Benshira culture confused the Ethaefal. But then again, many parts of many cultures confused, infuriated or simply made no reason to him. It was the curse of spending so much time away from the world, only to return to it so suddenly. He'd been born into the wrong world, in more ways than one. "It makes you sound like a follower of Leth." After all.. Lethava. It wasn't hard to distinguish out that part. But at his words, the boys eyes widened significantly and he stopped brushing his sword. "Oh, no.. never, not that I mean to offend. But Yahal is the only way, in my mind and in many others. I will follow him and none other, although I sometimes look to Leth for guidance in times that I feel I must." Of course, he would not be offended by it - merely curious. But since the reaction had been so sudden, he wouldn't put another mention on it. Religion seemed to be a touchy subject to many.. although he admittedly couldn't discriminate. After all, he felt a deep connection with Syna for obvious reasons. The boys words had reminded him of such things.. but it was more of his words that pulled him back from such thoughts. "What about you? Who came up with a name like Medhozic?" "I did." ".. Oh." The voice was crisp as the boy seemed to shrink a little in embarrassment, but he was quick to dispel any bad feelings between him and the child. For that was what he thought of the squire - more of a child than anything, especially in the eyes of an Ethaefal, and many other races he believed too. Probably even Benshira. "Do not worry about it. I have had that reaction many times before." He shook his head quietly, but the boy seemed not to notice. So he continued on with his little tale.. "I chose it, after I fell. It suited me. Many choose their names because the names that we took before are not to be told by mortal tongues." He turned attention back to the boy. Lethavan stared with wide, inquisitive eyes and he finally gave in and broke his story. "What do you want to ask. "What was it like, to fall?" He seemed cautious. He should have been. It was one of the questions that never ceased to bring back the terrible memories that every Ethaefal wished to forget, many searching through their entire lives to find purpose in the hopes of removing them from existence.. but they were always there. A few words would wake them, like sleeping monsters under the bed.. "It hurt."

[Medhozic]

After that, things went quiet. Both had relaxed long enough to catch their breath, and soon they were up and at it again, after gaining their stances again and preparing. "This time, I'm not holding back. Full-out." The Benshira seemed confident in himself, though perhaps a little too much after that last little incident. He'd certainly never shown himself to be arrogant in their last sparring contests but with the threat of loss looming over his head, he seemed to be compensating for his actions with words. It wasn't working - he could still see a bit of a nervous twitch at the corners of his mouth and in the shake of his hands, too. "Don't worry." And with that, they begun, with Lethava throwing in a quick strike - much quicker than before, too, against the Ethaefal's side. And unfortunately, Medhozic wasn't fast enough to completely pull from danger, and it tapped his hip. Thankfully, Lethava hadn't completely abandoned common sense and gone full-on with his strike, otherwise it would have undoubtably cleaved his upper half from his lower. "Good. Now do that a few more times." He wasn't sure when he'd become the teacher in this little spar, but the boy was nodding and setting himself up again with the heavy sword angled down towards his opponent. And just like that, they went again. They both stepped forwards with their right foot, but the diagonal strike went clear over Medhozic's head as he went in for a stab into the ribcage, under Lethava's armpit, but the boy took a step left with his other foot and swerved to avoid it, at the same time drawing one elbow down towards the back of the horned mans back, knocking his balance as he stumbled to regain it and then setting down a strike to the center of his back. It was looking bad for the horned man by now - even though it was supposed to be non-competitive, they'd begun a score-count and the Ethaefal was down by two. So he turned and suddenly lashed out with the dagger, even though the Benshira managed a step back and out of the range while simultaneously pulling the blade down for a hit on the shoulder. Thankfully, Medhozic stepped to the side of it, sent a jab to the underside of the elbow-joint, and scored an imaginary line with the tip of the dagger up his bicep and all the way to the shoulder. If it had been real, it would have been incapacitating when considering the skill and the weapon involved - he'd have been barely able to lift the sword. But he did, and gripped it tightly as he swung it up for a ribcage slash, which thankfully only managed to cut through air as Medhozic turned, saw the incoming attack and ducked quickly to leave it soaring over his horns, before another attack landed on the boys chest before he could return the sword for another attack. "Level. Next hit wins?" Lethava asked with an impish smile over his face. If the Ethaefal was one for it, he would have returned it - he was having genuine fun in their little game. They both took stances a few steps distance from each-other and soon began again, but this time Medhozic made the first attack with a sharp stab for the mans waist.. and accidentally went a little too harsh and dug just the tip inside. About two inches of the blade, thankfully into just a bit of tissue and nothing vital. The Benshira was wincing, sucking air through his teeth as he looked down at the small dribbles of blood that poured down and over his thigh and soaked into the fabric of his trousers and shirt.. but he laughed it off, half in an attempt to show he was alright and the other half in acknowledgement of his error. However, the Ethaefal's eyes were wide as he stared at the small cut and then at the blade. "I'm sorry." "It's nothing, really.. just a little scratch." "I caused it. My fault." "No you didn't, my fault.. should have moved faster." "I stabbed too hard." "Don't worry about it, we all make mistakes." He wasn't listening. Just staring with a paled face, before rising suddenly from where he'd been crouching and not even noticing it, his breathing quickened. He'd injured his friend. He wouldn't deny it anymore, Lethava had become someone close to him, one of the few who he actually felt like he could relate too, and he hoped the Benshira would feel the same way too. But he'd practically stabbed him, nearly critically injured him.. well, he hadn't really but it was how he felt. And he couldn't live with the idea. Just couldn't. After gathering the equipment in his pack and slinging it over his shoulder, he wrapped one arm around the boys back, and helped him. Thanks to the wound, he crouched over just a little, but the fabric covering the wound would help. There was silence for the entire walk back to the North Kabrin Road, and then up to the gates of Syliras. The guards didn't seem to notice that the boy was injured and that suited him just fine. As soon as they were inside, he released the grip, since Lethava seemed to have straightened up again. "I have to go." And before the boy could voice a complaint or much of a word, the Ethaefal had turned and begun a brisk pace back to the castle - much too fast for the boy to keep up with, regardless of injury or not. Whatever Lethava shouted out at the man, wasn't heard.

[Radiant]

Medhozic :

Experience

Skill	XP Earned
Observation	+2 XP
Socialization	+2 XP
Weapon: Dagger	+2 XP
Endurance	+1 XP
Storytelling	+1 XP

Lores

Lore Earned

Lethava: Constant Sparring Partner

The Fall: Hurts Mentally And Physically

Loots

Notes :

Med, since you are constantly using this NPC and training from him, please submit him here to be a city NPC if you want to continue using him.

There are some things I want to point out regarding this thread:

1. Knights and squires don't train in the Fighter's Pit because they train in the Training Grounds. Fighter's Pit is for commoners.

2. Knights patrol in all areas surrounding Syliras, including the Woods.

3. Medhozic teaching Lethava in wielding a longsword while he has no XP in longsword, this is a case of overplaying skills and knowledge. I'm giving you some XP penalty for this.

Do keep these in mind in your future threads.

My radiance is not bright enough?

If you have any questions or concerns regarding your grade, beam me a PM and we can work it out.