[The Training Yard] First Steps.

by **Kwantu** on March 6th, 2014, 9:00 pm

1st/Spring/514.

Make Myri Proud. The last words of his mother, as she hugged him and watched him leave. There had been less tears when he'd gone to join his three years of mandatory service. But then, she knew that once it was all over, he'd be coming back. This time, there would be no such assurances. He was a Myrian.. like his brother, like his father. It was his duty, and it was his honour, to serve for the good of not just his family, and his clan, but his entire race in their interests, and in their duties - whatever Myri might deem them. He would make them proud.

That didn't mean that he wasn't nervous. Skittish, slightly anxious was a better description - even trying to draw down the pack that he'd carried through the jungle from the clan-lands ended with a loud clatter as the leather strap that held the bundled few possessions together easily slipped from between his fingers and left the long spear at its side rolling along the floor. "Shurak!" This was a bad start already - he had to bend over to retrieve the spear, bringing the familiar gentle tugs of the thick scarflesh tugging at his skin and stretching out wide. Ahh.. the comforts. Relax, they told him. Be calm.. be patient.

It wasn't long after his little issue that he'd pulled everything hastily back into the pack and set off again for the Training Grounds. They weren't hard to miss, even though he'd never really seen them around before.. he just needed to follow the smells of blood and the sounds of iron slamming and ringing out in the air like metal birds swooping at each-other over a fresh kill. Still with spear in-hand, he took off for the grounds and hovered around the edges at first, just watching the others going about their business.. although at first glance, he could immediately tell that he was going to struggle here. That should have been expected. But some small corner of his mind just wished that it would be easier. Ha.. silly dreams.

Myrian Tongue | Common Tongue | Tukant Tongue

by **Traverse** on March 7th, 2014, 2:58 pm

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It was another busy morning in the Training Yards. A fresh set of new recruits looking to put their time into the military was stumbling in the yards, every mistake being pointed out rudely and for everyone to see. It was typical of any military to severely chastise it's new recruits, and Taloba was nothing if not cruel to it's green ones. Yes they would learn, but they would learn now, and not later when their torso was in Dhani jaws.

For Kwantu the barracks and Training Yards were not these foreign things to be wary of as a new recruit, but almost comfortably familiar.

"Is that a Sunken Scar I see?" the voice called out over the yard towards Kwantu, and his dark gaze could see a brawny male kicking up small flurries of dust beneath his heels as he made his way over to a fellow soldier.

Kwantu didn't know the fellow too well, but their fangs had teamed up more than once in the Jungles of Taloba, scouting, defending Zinrah's barricade, even patrolling the ocean just in case those slimy Charoda climbed out of it. Tazu of the Slitted Throat was his name, the tell tale black ink across his neck showing his heritage.

"Didn't you just finish your service, Kwantu, what brings you back here? Don't tell me you're back for good?" A glimmer in his eyes showed that the male already knew the answer to his question, already taking in Kwantu's full pack and his assortment of weapons, but he still wanted to hear it from the Myrian himself.
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by **Kwantu** on March 7th, 2014, 4:29 pm

At first, the grip on his spear tightened as he watched.. but as the Slitted Throat slowly revealed himself, that small twinge of recognition sparked in his mind. Ahh, and here he was, expecting some heavy-handed bulk of a Myrian to come and strike him on the back of the head, like old times.. Yes it is.. and is this a Slitted Throat I see, hmm?" His face lit up slowly, into a warm smile as the butt of his spear kicked up some dust moving off to the side, giving a bit more room.

"Afraid I am; my service is not over, it's just begun." Oh yes, it had. Or, it would. "Figured Myri could use some extra muscle around, although I guess that's what they all say." At that, he couldn't help but glance to the new recruits.. some barely past childhood, about to prepare for their mandatory three years of service.. and others just as experienced and twice the age. Oh yes, if these recruits were anything to go on, they could definitely use it. Although with the 'instructors' - if they could even be called that - in view, he suddenly had second doubts. He could remember his time with them all too well. They weren't happy memories.

"Besides," he began out-loud as he turned back, "You never told me that you were staying here either." Hadn't he? Had he? Damn, it couldn't have been that long since he'd left this place. Not that he would leave it again any time soon, of course.

Myrian Tongue | Common Tongue | Tukant Tongue

by **Traverse** on March 11th, 2014, 8:53 pm

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Tazu smirked. "Eh, Myri calls to some of us more than others." He glanced at Kwantu's puckered scars for a moment, then turned, gesturing for the male to follow him.

"Come on, I'll find you a spot in the barracks and then we can get you set up with your new fang mates, I know the veterans are setting up some new ranks as we speak." They strode out the bright light into the relatively shadowed, and slightly cooler wooden buildings that housed many of Myri's soldiers. Many clans that lived within Taloba would simply return to their clan longhouses for an evening, but many and more did not have such a luxury.

Though many of the bunks, cots, and hammoks were clearly claimed, they were all empty. Myrians were no layabouts, especially the soldiers. Only one cot containing an injured Myrian was occupied. Tazu led Kwantu expertly through the curving connected hallways, some opening up to let him view more of the yards, past where the new recruits were being beaten and bruised to the more veteran ranks of the military. On one side of the buildings was a garden made of sand and rock, a fang simply sitting in meditation in various locations. Not much farther along two fangs were sparring each other with wooden weapons in an obstacle course, a single tiger rider overseeing the event and yelling critiques as she watched.

His guide's pace finally slowed when he entered a rather dusty looking section of barracks. Here there were several other individuals, unpacking things and getting their beds and areas set up. They all gave nods and glances toward the two males, and Tazu guided him to an empty section of room, gesturing for Kwantu to pick his sleeping spot.

"Pick a bed, any bed, not that you'll be spending that much time in it."

A horn call echoed from the yards and Tazu practically turned upon his heel. "That's my call, see you later Sunken Scar."

And swiftly the Slitted Throat marched out and went on his way, leaving Kwantu to his own devices, several of the Myrians it he room glancing curiously at him.

OOC :

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by **Kwantu** on March 12th, 2014, 6:42 pm

At the reply, he could only laugh and shake his head, causing the long hair around the nape of his neck to whip around in sweat-stuck locks, dislodging a few more from his forehead. "Don't give me that shurak." Still, though, he followed shortly after the Slitted Throat with a brisk walk.

He was about to make some witty retort, when talk of is future 'fang mates' came through the air. That brought back memories - good ones, though. Oh yes, the fight and the kill.. it was all as rich and vibrant as the dust and soil beneath his feet. The laughter that they would share together on their long scouting missions, and the training that they would practice together under the hot sun. And of course, the occasional searches for Dhani and Charodae. "I look forward to testing my blade on them - and with them." He meant it wholeheartedly; it was only a shame that the dear Slitted Throat could not join him during it. He would love to see how they had both come along, in the years.. it could not have been so long anyway. Barely a season, maybe two?

But so much had changed, he could see already. Fresh meat was being brought in and tested - new fangs were being trained, and old ones moved up. They would all need training, testing.. of course, they'd need more work and improvement as every Myrian did. But with such a family, he should have expected change to be so sudden. He wasn't even sure that many of his fellow fang-members from their years together would still remember his face. Even if a few did still bear his scars and wounds. And he probably wouldn't remember them, either.. he could just about remember the name of the Slitted Throat ahead. So many new guards that gave him nods of recognition that he could not return.. and so many old and noble fangs that had faded into legend and yet he could still remember as clear as day. He probably should have paid less attention on that though - he barely even noticed when his friend stopped.

"Just give me a place to hang my weapons and I'll be set for life." Just before the Myrian left, he flashed a grin and a short nod. But then, there were the other eyes watching him. And all of his fathers words came back to mind. "What?" He still had his pack over his shoulder, but it was soon slung over and onto the bed.

Myrian Tongue | Common Tongue | Tukant Tongue | OOCHmm.. if you make some, and I make some, then together we'll have a fairly equal spread. How about 4-5 each?

by **Traverse** on March 13th, 2014, 12:38 pm

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The three closest individuals to Kwantu responded to his 'what'. One was a tall female, her skin smooth and fairly unblemished save for a long puckered scar running across the top of her chest, and black ink that ranged down both arms. Her hair was put into a top not, and deep brown eyes weighed Kwantu up and down.

Another female was next to her, smaller, and wore red kohl patterns beneath her eyes. Her dark hair was braided down her back, and she wore strange leather vambrace's that looked to contain weapons.

The third was a short stocky male, the sides of his head shaved, leaving a mohawk that flopped over the side of his head, his nose pierced like a bulls. He furrowed his brow and offered Kwantu a hand.

"Don't mind them, they're not used to seeing scars instead of tattoos." The taller female shoved him.

"Watch your tone, male." He rolled his eyes and shoved the female right back, which turned into the two of them locking shoulders and staring each other down, trying to push one further back than the other. More than a few ticks passed before the shorter female snapped.

"Daku, Liikta. Everyone knows you're siblings, but for once, could you stop acting like it?" She gave a singular nod to Kwantu in way of greeting and then suddenly the six or so Myrians in the long room other than Kwantu began heading out toward the training grounds.

OOCAlright sounds good, you can add details to the one's I've already named as you write or leave em to me, doesn't matter.
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by **Kwantu** on March 14th, 2014, 8:48 pm

He should have known that there would be at least a little inter-clan tension running around the place.. but for the best part of it, he was just sizing up his new fang-members. Obviously there was already a lot of rivalry between them, although sibling rivalry was a bit of a new one for him. After all, in terms of siblings.. well, he didn't really know many of them. Either traveling, in a different fang and a different part of Taloba, or dead. One of the above. And if he did have siblings around that he could talk with, he certainly wouldn't spend all of his time fighting worthlessly.. he'd spend it trying to find out all that he could. After all.. powerful alliances to be had there. Blood thicker than water, all that junk.

The best that he could do now, would be to focus on freeing out his belongings.. although, his ceremonial dagger remained in its pack; there would be no need to show any of them that little thing. Far from it - they might get the wrong ideas about what it was used for. The axe could come out, because he guessed there would be at least some time to practice a bit more with it.. but before he could bring out anything else, or begin to make himself feel a little more 'at home', his fang-members were already beginning to leave.

Given the brief little spat he'd just seen, he couldn't help but give the nest a little poke to see what would come out. "If you're all going out for fighting, you'd better keep those two on opposite ends." He pointed the tip of the long-spear at Daku and Liika in turn - mostly because he'd forgotten their names already, although partially to make sure that they didn't go for his throats in case he'd touched a sensitive spot. "Barely been here a day, can already tell this is going to be an interesting experience." Well, it was going to be anyway, one way or another.

Myrian Tongue | Common Tongue | Tukant Tongue

by **Traverse** on March 15th, 2014, 3:05 pm

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Daku turned an appraising eye to Kwantu, shruggin as to his jab as they walked out. "As long as she keeps to herself we never have a problem."

Liikta grimaced. "I said watch your tone, Daku. I'll put up with you acting like that, but the rest of the army won't."

Daku made a face behind Liikta's back, but she clearly knew the game and spun, slapping him on the face. He shook his head, the blow loud enough to hear, but clearly not hard enough to take the smile off his lips. The shorter, still unidentified female surged ahead of the bickering siblings and set the pace for the rest of the gathered soldiers, leading them out down the half planked walkways that opened up into a yard, smaller than the main area where most trainees learned their first lessons, but still big enough to give plenty of warriors room to train, joining the ranks of at least a dozen more Myrians already in the yard.

Daku had fallen in line with Kwantu, eyeing the spear and axe. "You any good with those?"

Any response Kwantu could have given was cut off by a sharp bark. Turning his eyes towards the front of the yard the young Myrian could see a tall lean female, her skin so dark it nearly matched her pitch colored eyes. On either hip she wore two curved swords, daggers placed on either shoulder, the little armor she wore shone like Syna's light, and her hair was bound and braided complexly, falling in short rivulets around her shoulders.

When she spoke you knew you had to listen, and her voice carried easily over the trampled ground.

"You are all here for the same reason, because you wish to dedicate more than just a paltry three years to Taloba's great armies. That I respect, admire, but you also have another thing in common..."

"You all left. Perhaps as short as a day, or as long as 3 years, I do not know, but what I do know is I need to see what you can do. I am Reiki of the Blackened Claws, your future fang leader...if you prove to me you are worthy. So grab a partner and show me what your life as a Myrian has taught you."

For a moment after her voice stopped there was silence, then people began pairing off almost immediately. They were not green warriors that needed to be told anything twice. Daku turned to Kwantu, grabbing a gladius out of his belt and twisting it in his hand, facing the other male. As the sparring began, Reiki stepped off the slightly raised wooden platform, and began languidly pouring through the ranks.

"Well Sunken Scar? Show me what you got."
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by **Kwantu** on March 22nd, 2014, 7:40 pm

All through the stroll out towards the grounds, his eyes kept drifting back to the bickering pair of children. He'd always been told that he acted far too childish, but it was always funny watching others getting dismissed for the exact same reason. He didn't know why. It just was. The hint of a smile, only partially smothered, proved it more than words ever could. He could tell that he and Daku were going to get along well.. as long as Liika didn't end up 'accidentally' releasing a Myrian Tiger on him.

Although, as for the 'fang leader' he supposed this would be... the girl with two menacing weapons that he hoped she couldn't dual-wield. Well, he couldn't say. If she ended up anywhere near as bad as she looked, he was going to have problems. He'd been lucky during his three years of mandatory service, but when faced with a permanent role, would that all change?

It certainly wouldn't be a walk in the park. As she spoke, he tried not to grimace and simply snarl. Of course he'd left. They'd all left. He'd never heard of anyone - certainly never a member of his family or any of his friends for that matter - who hadn't left if only to say goodbye to the clan and pick up their remains of belongings before heading out again. What did it matter if they left, even for just a day, to do so.. did these leaders think that it was wrong? Well, that wasn't his to know.. but it still sounded far too restricted for his ears.

At least he'd have Daku. To show, rather than simply speak, how good he was with his spear. Actions spoke louder than words. Unless those words could be spoken as actions. All he needed to do was relax, tighten the grip around his spear slightly.. and then press one foot into the dirt and thrust off, spear driving home straight for the side of the chest.

Myrian Tongue | Common Tongue | Tukant Tongue | oocSorry this was so late!

by **Traverse** on March 26th, 2014, 1:58 pm

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Daku listened intently to the ebony skinned warrioress. She sounded cold, but her stance and weapon array suggested power. A good fang leader could carry a regular soldier far, into more intense battles, higher ranking missions, and past regular scouting and patrol duties. His eyes hardened, watching Kwantu intently, interested to see what the new male would throw at him.

And he was not disappointed. The spear jab came quick and strong towards his side and Daku spun on his right foot, turning to avoid it just in the nick of time, his gladius holding arm coming down upon the shaft of the weapon to ensure its course was truly off.

Now sideways facing Kwantu the Slitted Throat stepped forward quickly, his feet dancing on only the balls as he looked to close the gap Kwantu had created with his spear. He cut out diagonally donward across Kwantu's chest, dark eyes gleaming.

Meanwhile, Reiki perused the ranks like a silent panther, wary eyes keeping track of all around her.
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Closed [The Training Yard] First Steps.