A late night workout

by **Brandon Blackwing** on August 12th, 2014, 7:20 pm

The 76th of Summer 514AV

Hands supporting the back of his head, Brandon lied on his bunk, staring at the ceiling. It was dark, but due to his bat-eyes he could still see enough of his surroundings. Of course it helped that it wasn’t pitch black darkness, then no-one’s eyes would be able to see a thing. Sighing, Bran closed his eyes and turned on his side, and exhaled deeply. While he hoped he would fall asleep, he knew that it wouldn’t work, he felt wild awake. Another sigh and Brandon opened his black orbs again, staring at the wall and wondering why insomnia still plagued him every now and then.

Was it because he hadn’t been doing anything today? Because he had felt so lazy that he had been lying on the floor for bells without end? Was it because his thoughts raced in his head? Because he worried too much? Engghaen … Tsch, that girl had only caused him trouble and even when she wasn’t in the city or the region for that matter, she still refused not to let problems arise. Well, the whole Kriegsfelt mess was his own fault, though without her there would be no mess. The bat wondered where she was right now, probably in a city far away, doing the same as she did in Lhavit: freeloading, occupying someone’s bed and nag about little things, as well as being all mad about having to do anything for the person she was staying with. Exactly like she had done in Lhavit. Ah, good times…

Well, worried or not, he needed to catch some sleep, because, … Why exactly? There was nothing special about tomorrow, nothing had to be done… Then why? Because he needed his sleep to function normally? Good point, however, sleep did not come easy this Duskrest, and after having shifted positions, having opened and closed his eyes multiple times he gave up altogether. One could not force himself to sleep, it just overcame him. Hmmm… maybe he should do something else for a couple of bells and then try again to slumber? But what? Perhaps getting out of bed was a good first thing to accomplish…

T

The living room was quite dark, a bit too dark actually. Not to see, but it kind of annoyed him for no reason, the bat himself did not know why. Where were his pants? Immediately after that thought crossed his mind, his dark orbs darted towards the stool, over which a pile of clothes were draped. Hands with quick fingers fiddled for a couple of ticks with belt-pouches and then a steady glow produced by a small skyglass orb illuminated the room. Bright was not the word, it was rather dim, but it hardly mattered, now he could see clearly, unlike before. Still, he hadn’t yet found an answer to the question ‘what can I do right now?’. The bat pondered on that as he lowered himself on the chest he used as chair, a finger tapping his chin, elbow supported by a knee. The chest! Of course!

Why not browse through the contents of that box? Who know what he might find, maybe a memento from times long past, which he had forgotten about until now? Either way, it was better than doing nothing at all. Fingers gripped the sides of the lid but as he tried to lift it, nothing happened, it was locked. That was not so uncommon for that chest, Brandon always locked it, in case someone would happen to stalk inside his house and attempt to steal his stuff. Where was that key though? Again his eyes locked onto the pants draped over the stool, a few steps brought him there and a swift search produced a key-ring with two of the door-opening utensils hanging on it; one being his house key and the other … was bent beyond recognition. Bran made a face as he beheld the item he had been looking for so desperately. It seemed his brain was ready to sleep, seeing as his memory was quite slow. Of course it was bent! The bat always used his lock picking gear to open the box that held his possessions, that way thieves that were incompetent at picking locks couldn’t get to it. Why it still dangled on the ring was a mystery though, that key couldn’t be used ever again, instead of wondering what he had been thinking all this time, the bat simply freed the key and threw it over his shoulder. Where it landed with that metallic clattering sound was none of his concerns.

Instead, he produced his lock pick and tension wrench, each held in a different hand and being spun around by agile fingers. Without as much as a blink of his eyelids, the thief inserted both in the lock of his chest and got to work, brushing past the pins and counting them automatically, even though he knew the exact amount. Applying tension, check. Pushing pins into their casings? No problem? Do they stay there? Of course, the torque took care of that. It did not take much time at all -but the bat was a bit slower than usual due to his sleepy brain- and the lock sprang open with a click as the bat turned his tension wrench when all pins had been pushed into their cylinders.

A peek inside the chest revealed a carefully folded cape, with a mask on top of it, Incognito’s hollow gaze stared into nothing, and Brandon frowned in slight irritation. That disguise was not what he wanted to see right now. Sure, it was a nice mask, as was the cape and the leather armor, but the feelings associated with it were not. Kriegsfelt…! Anger bubbled up instantly, Brandon scowled and bared his teeth while clenching his fists, but as sudden as the strong emotion had appeared, it vanished. Brandon wondered why exactly he felt so … wrong looking at the mask and working for the merchant. He still got to do what he would usually, except the fact that he couldn’t choose who he robbed anymore. It was probably the fact that Kriegsfelt had pretty much stated that the bat was one of his possessions too, that he had stripped him from his freedom, that he threatened to kill Enggy.

But even stealing for the guy felt different, it wasn’t like before. Sure, it was thrilling and all, but something was missing, and it wasn’t the payment. Usually he stole because he wanted to, now he did it because he had to. Again, freedom. It wasn’t the lack of payment or the clothes, nor the man himself, it was just that he wasn’t free anymore that bothered him. Besides, he never really stole for the money, now had he? It was strange, but true. The bat had always been looking for excitement, and thievery offered plenty of that. The Kelvic had taken up the role of thief for the thrill of it, he stole for the act, not for the items. Sure, he needed money too, so he took some each time, but he wasn’t primarily focused on it. No, he collected trophies. The skyglass orb was one, the books he took from Arthur’s shelves were trophies too. Yes, he stole just for the sake of stealing, to see the look on people’s faces when picking their pockets, to experience the thrill it brought, to feel satisfied when he stared at his loot. To feel like he had accomplished something when he cracked a terribly hard lock. Not for the wealth. For the rumors in the streets, for the shock it brought the world, for fame, for self-satisfaction. And the last two had only become worse since he started working for Kriegsfelt, why else would he leave notes?

Still though, putting all insights into himself aside, he had to find a way to free himself out of Mr. Black’s grasp, for his own sanity. If he didn’t, his worrying about Enggy might never fade, and his lack of freedom might drive him crazy. He could feel it already, the way things had changed, the way his feelings towards thieving had changed so much in so little time. The sensation -that awful sensation- that something was off, that something was wrong… That this wasn’t how things were supposed to be… Once more a sigh escaped his lungs, a hand covered his eyes as he shook his head sideways slowly.

Thoughts like this would only keep him awake. He should do something that distracted him and was physically tiring. That way he should be able to fall into the soft and merciful embrace of slumber.
c

Credit goes to Ollic

by **Brandon Blackwing** on August 14th, 2014, 8:47 pm

The question was what to do, though it was not a hard one, the problem was what to start with… There was enough he could do, target practice for example. However, something else caught his eye, a small wood with metal object that lied beside the Incognito disguise. Before the thought of picking it up even crossed his mind, the bat held the small chest in front of his face already, scanning it swiftly, with the appraising eyes of larcenist who knew his craft. While the chest certainly did not look all that sturdy and special, it actually was. Just like first impressions were deceiving most of the time, so was the chest’s appearance.

It wasn’t like Brandon had never attempted to open this small lockbox, he had actually tried it a lot, and had failed every single time. Where his lockpicking failed, brute force would succeed, or so he had thought once. Immediately after that he had hammered away on the box, but he had failed to even dent it, let alone break the wood it was composed off. Not even wedging had worked, and the thief had come to understand that picking the lock would be the only way to open it. Many a time, when he was bored he had had a go at it, but as stated before, had failed each time. Then, after his confrontation with Dimitri he had learned of its contents and the feeling of anticipation for and fantasy of what could be found inside had vanished.

Tonight he did not care whether the contents were known to him or not, he was getting excited anyway. Not because he wanted to read the testimony Arthur had stored within the small chest, oh gods no, but because this particular box had become the test box. Brandon had improved his larceny techniques quite a bit since the start of his criminal career, and while he certainly wasn’t the best thief around, he was getting better every day. If there was one thing he liked the sound of, it was that of being infamous, of being the subject of gossip and rumors in the streets, of being the mysterious, elusive shadow that could deprive anyone of their belongings if he so desired. Not that he would do that, he had no need for wealth or an abundance of items. Oh, he was greedy alright, but not in the way many thought. The bat was more stingy and obsessed with not letting someone take what he possessed. Though, that wasn’t really greed…. More an obsession indeed.

Not that the bat actually cared what he was; greedy, kleptomaniac, stingy or obsessed. What counted was that he was himself and no-one else. That was exactly why he hated working for Mr. Black, he had to stop being himself, and he did not like that. But well, one day the man would know Brandon’s rage, one day he would reclaim his identity and freedom. For now though, he’d focus on picking the lock of the small lockbox, inserting the necessary tools would be a good start.

It was said that vaults were created to keep thieves out, but they were expensive, so lockboxes were made for poorer folks. They were both sturdy, yes, but what people believed to be the strength of doors and vaults was the exact opposite. Indeed, all thieves knew, locks were not the strongest point of a door, they were the weakness! That applied to this box as well. Sure, the bat had quite a bit of trouble with it; the lock was small, so there was less space to move his lockpick in. As a result, the bat had to use minimalist movements, and that was not really easy when the pins of the lock were really small too. It took the bat over five chimes of prodding and twisting his wrist, pushing and brushing with his lockpick and turning with his wrench before he finally was able to get to the point where only one more peg had to be defeated. That however, took a lot more time, probably because his hands had started trembling due to anticipation, adrenaline and excitement. It was a test of his skill, as test of his progress and he was on the brink of passing it, he could almost hear the click of the lock being opened. A bit later he really heard it, the wondrous sound of a lockbox throwing in the towel, accompanied by the feeling of the lid being lifted … he almost cried out of joy, he could feel his eyes sting. This was an accomplishment! He had really done it! He had conquered that annoying little petching shyke lock placed on that freakishly indestructible piece of chest!

After a chime or two however, the excitement and emotions faded away and with a face displaying utter boredom he pushed the lid to a close again, the lock clicked happily as it locked itself automatically –an extra security measurement no doubt. Well, he thought dryly that was a lot less challenging than I had expected it to be… And it is indeed less fun when I know what is stored inside… and when I am doing it at home… If I had been able to do this when I broke into Arthur’s place, then that would have been great.

Placing the small chest into the large chest again, the bat sighed and pondered. He was back to square one. He was wide awake, he was bored and he needed something to exhaust him so he would be able to sleep. Maybe… maybe I should do some combat moves? Get some training done, I really need to improve those abilities too. When I think about what could have happened if Dimitri hadn’t allowed me to kill him… bah. Also… if I can get stronger than the Shinya, I can actually beat them if I cannot outrun them! Haha, that would really burst their bubble! Okay! I’m all fired up! Let’s do some combat training!

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Credit goes to Ollic

by **Brandon Blackwing** on August 15th, 2014, 12:51 pm

Warming up was the first thing he did, for it would make things easier. He wasn’t sure about why or how it worked, but he knew that he wouldn’t get out of breath as fast as when he hadn’t warmed up, that his heart felt better and that possible injuries to his muscles would be prevented. Also, there wouldn’t be the feeling of blood throbbing in his head, no sudden dizziness or other strange effects workouts sometimes had. Plus, his muscles were readied for the exercises, which was great since it would increase their performance. All in all, it was the right thing to do.

The bat started with simple tasks, he ran in place for a couple of chimes, jumped up and down, stretched, bended and shook his body, loosening his muscles. His breath already became more rapid, his heart started increasing the pace, and the thief felt like the temperature in the room was rising. Good!

Next came a series of exercises meant to train his muscles, simple push-ups, sit-ups and squats, which were really basic, but very effective. Not only would it increase his stamina, but also his strength, be it for punching, kicking or running away. The bat did a lot of them, about ten series of each, in blocks of three. First push-ups, then sit-ups and then the squats, each was done ten times. After he had completed one series, he paused for a chime and then he started again, that too he repeated ten times. By the end of it, his arms were trembling and felt as if they were made out of lead or something similar. His legs looked unsteady and his breath was taken as if he choked, also, his body was pretty sweaty already, and he hadn’t even gotten to the main event yet.

Brandon had never been the most physically strong of all, mediocre at best, but it was enough, his skill in dodging blows and tenacity when it came to winning a fight more than made up for it, besides, he did not really fight others head on. Not with weapons, and not unarmed, though it certainly seemed that way. There was a reason why the bat had picked a weapon that could be used both from a distance and up close to injure foes, the same motive applied to why he used a hit-and-away strategy when fighting –if he could keep his cool that is. Against Dimitri that hadn’t worked, but neither of them had been horribly strong, like say … an Akalak. Because of that fact, he hadn’t really minded that he couldn’t stick to his tactic, but he hadn’t really been thinking all that much either… When fighting Blackarm, who wasn’t really that strong either, he would have been able to close in and exchange punches, but in hindsight it was a good thing the Kelvic had clung on to his hit-and-away fighting style. If that knee had hit him, he would never have been able to walk again. Ever.

But yeah, the reason for his choice in both weapons and fighting style was simple. If he couldn’t be hit, he couldn’t be beaten. It was a simple and basic as that. For that reason Brandon had trained to be quick of feet, agile and swift. He needed it to dodge, and while it worked out pretty well, mistakes of his part had proven to be dangerous. If Blackarm had swung his sword instead of his foot, the bat would be sitting around with a huge gash in his shoulder. It had hurt enough as it was, he didn’t need a cut, a bloody wound. For that reason, the bat decided he had to work on his defense, to block and parry and counter. Also his attitude towards opponents needed work, he underestimated his foes too often, which had not really beneficial consequences. But hey, he was still alive!

Thinking it would be a good idea to mix both armed and unarmed combat, the bat strapped on his bandolier with daggers and drew one of them out of their sheaths. Now that he had been using them for about a season now, he had grown used to their individual balance, handles, weight and shape, all of which were really important. Why? Because the bat did not really have to think about those attributes anymore, he recognized the blade he held by just gripping the hilt, and his body remembered more or less the force needed to throw it as far as necessary, as well as the downward arc it followed when thrown. Neat.

His aim however, wasn’t really great yet, and neither was his technique or the strength with which he flung the blades forward. Like stated before, his body adapted to match the attributes of the blades, but it wasn’t perfect yet. Sometimes he used to much force, other times too little. He was slowly getting there though, each time he used the daggers he grew more comfortable wielding them, even if he still couldn’t properly hit the spots he wanted to strike from afar. And up close his technique wasn’t really refined yet either, his swings were too wild, too wide and left him utterly defenseless. But that was why he practiced.

A couple of steps were taken back, increasing the distance between him and the wall –which was made of wood, though underneath the layer of boards there was stone- until he found himself almost with his back against the opposite one but with half an armlength in between and let the dagger spin around between his fingers until he grabbed the hilt again firmly, but now he held it like he had been taught in order to throw. While the arm was drawn backwards, and the wrist cocked, the other hand already reached for another one. Then, as the wrist snapped forwards and the arm whipped down with fingers gently brushing over the launched hilt of the blade, stabilizing its flight, the hand that had wrapped its fingers around a new dagger came up and cocked its wrist as well. While it too launched the weapon towards the wall, the hand that had just flung a blade just ticks prior also had gotten hold of a new blade, which it threw immediately after the other had had done its job. That process was repeated a couple of times, until the bat ran out of daggers to use and decided to inspect his aim.

Of course, the bat had aimed for a particular spot on the wall, a spot he had failed to hit miserably. Not only had most struck the wall about two inches away from the spot –which he recognized because it had a different coloration- but some had no even reached the correct height. Some stuck too high, others too low, while the remaining few had managed to bury themselves into the wood on the right height. However, all had actually stayed in the wood rather than falling out of it or just bouncing off. That itself was enough to make the bat grin.

c

Credit goes to Ollic

by **Brandon Blackwing** on August 17th, 2014, 2:53 pm

After having gathered all his daggers and having sheathed them once more, the bat picked up a piece of charred wood from the hearth and started drawing on the wall he had used as target just chimes prior. It had to be a human silhouette, so Brandon started with an orb for a head, then drew a neck which broadened out at the base to form the shoulders. A torso with arms joined the head and legs were drawn too. Satisfied with his accomplishment he took a step back to admire his work, but what he saw was not really as great as it had seemed…

The whole drawing was out of proportion, the legs were not equally long and the left one was thinner than the right. The same applied to the arms. The neck was too thin and the circle too large, the torso was too squared to his liking… ah well, it would serve his purpose as a target well enough. It wasn’t like it had to be an artistic work to be usable. It came close enough to a human form and that should do it. It was just to throw daggers at anyway. However, he wouldn’t just throw daggers, no, he would use the target as a second foe about to join the battle, while he combatted an invisible opponent.

One of his blades was drawn, firmly held in his left hand while his right was free. It wasn’t just randomly, not at all, Brandon was ambidextrous and could use each hand just as well. But he had grabbed his blade with his left hand because his opponent was right handed and held a sword. As such he would have a better time blocking strikes from the left, while his unprotected arm was not directly in the proximity of the foe’s sword. If need be however, he could switch hands in the blink of an eye. To demonstrate he threw his dagger from hand to hand a couple of times.

Then, he bended his knees slightly and held his weapon with his left hand, while his other hand was raised to eye level. It was just the same stance he used for unarmed combat, but with his left arm out of position and a blade in its grasp. Still, he would use his dagger for blocking swords only and would counter with his fist or legs.

The imaginary foe swung his sword, aiming for Brandon’s side, the bat saw that it would strike too low to block with a normal dagger-grip, so he spun it between his fingers to it was reversed, blade pointing down. A regular swing could be blocked like that, the thief guessed, albeit with a lot of effort. Maybe two hands would be better, but then he wouldn’t be able to counter with his hands… Not that that was a problem actually, Brandon let his free hand join his armed one, increasing the strength applied for increased effectiveness . Now it was time to counter, the thief spun around while not letting his dagger leave the side of the sword, and raised his leg, kicking hard. If everything went right he would be able to hit the neck or the side of the head.

The shock of pain should be enough to retract the sword, so then Bran could follow up with a low spinning sweep kick or start pummeling the foe’s face or so. Of course there were many possibilities, but there were but a few Bran was really comfortable with to use. Still, sometimes it was better to go out of the way and wait for another opening to strike. With that in mind, Brandon back-flipped away, landing on his hands and pushing himself further away still, to come own feet first again and once more assumed his fighting stance.

Believe it or not, but Brandon actually employed tactics while fighting. Basic things, but they were effective. Things his mother had taught him, little somethings she had used against him to make him experience the feeling of it. Use body blows to affect the opponents movement, to cause pain, but not to knock them out. Shots to the head to try and make the foe lose consciousness, and to inflict damage to the skull. There was one spot of the head that was there to defend the throat, but was a huge weak point too. The chin. If one could land a blow to the tip of the chin, it would paralyze the opponents legs, or at least make them lose control and make it difficult to stay on his feet. A pinpoint blow. Hard to deliver with success, but one that could turn the tide of battle if it hit. And there was another such punch.

Another one that Lethia had never used on the bat because it was a dangerous one. It too was a pinpoint blow, but instead of aimed for the chin, it was aimed for the heart. If the punch was hard enough, if it struck with enough force, it could momentarily stop the blood-pumping organ and paralyze the whole body. It would feel as if time had stopped, his opponent wouldn’t know what was going on and it would allow Brandon to strike without having to fear being attacked back. The consequences however could be serious. Not for Brandon –given that he managed to land the punch- but for his opponent, since there was a possibility that the foe’s heart wouldn’t start beating again. And that was bad. If he wasn’t careful, it could kill someone. It should be a last resort punch, it was better to make his foe dizzy by attacking the head. Therefore he would have to stick to his hit-and-away strategy though and depending on his enemy it could take a long while to win.

A sigh was let out and Brandon launched his dagger, a bit annoyed with the prospect of not being able to finish fights quickly. However, he didn’t really have a choice, he did not want to take the lives of his foes when not necessary and wasn’t strong enough to withstand too many blows, and neither to knock people out with one punch. Well, there was a technique for that, another pinpoint blow, one to the temple this time, but again it would be hard to actually hit that spot when battling. Especially so if the battle had just begun. No, the bat would have to stick with his hit-and-away fighting style, deal a lot of damage over time and exhaust his foes. That way they’d be slower, and he would have plenty of opportunities to strike. Well, if he did not wear himself out first….

A dull thud snapped Brandon back to reality. His eyes traced the source of the sound, a blade that still vibrated in the wood, just outside the circle that was supposed to be a head. Hm… his aim still needed work, the bat realized.

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Credit goes to Ollic

by **Brandon Blackwing** on August 17th, 2014, 7:18 pm

However, just standing around and throwing daggers at a target wouldn’t be very useful, not when targets usually moved out of the way, or tried to anyway. Besides, if possible the bat would rather not kill his foes, instead incapacitating them. So, the legs and arms where what he should aim for. It would be hard, those were limbs that flailed and moved, so being able to actually hit them would prove difficult… But not impossible. There were parts of each that did not move as much, but could make moving the limbs harder. The shoulder was one, the hip area another though the thigh would probably be a better place to injure.

Given that he was attacked, and managed to block the sword of his opponent with his blade while another foe approached from behind him, the bat had to come up with a maneuver to counter. Brandon positioned himself exactly as he had scripted it in his mind, both hands on the hilt of the dagger while blocking the sword. Then he would probably hear footsteps and the sound of a weapon being drawn coming from behind him. Now, what to do? There were several things he needed to do and several possibilities in such a scenario, but first he had to get rid of the one he was fighting up close. That too could be done with different methods; he could kick him in the chest, sending him backwards, or floor him with a sweep kick. Both were good options, but the sweep kick was probably the best one.

Brandon suddenly pushed his dagger away from his body with a mighty thrust, also pushing the blade of his opponent out of the way, creating an opening to sneak his sweep kick in. While his foe was a little off balance he struck, spinning low and knocking away the imaginary enemy’s legs and sending him to kiss the floor. While spinning he also grabbed a second dagger and turned his head towards the second attacker, spotting the ax he held in his left hand. Immediately, Brandon raised his arm upwards, cocked his wrist back before flicking it forwards while his arm arced down, sending the blade racing towards its with charcoal drawn prey.

The thud with which it ate the wood let Bran know it had at least hit the wall, and then his eyes verified it. Not only the wall, but the wood in the drawn confines, yet not really where Bran had intended it to strike. Instead of the left shoulder, it had pierced the head, around the nose-area. Not only was that horribly off target –too high and too much to the right- the guy was probably dead too. In short: a complete failure. However, it meant that he had actually hit his target and while his aim was not steady, he had succeeded in keeping him away from them at least. Then Brandon realized he had no time to feel satisfied and smug during a battle, since his close-combat foe would be getting up already. The bat continued his spin and raised himself while he was at it. Spin… maybe that was why he had missed his target… he hadn’t really thought about the effects… It was possible the spin had made it differ from its straight trajectory, hitting more to the right instead of just being too high and missing altogether.

Meanwhile the bat had raised a leg as well and continued spinning, aiming to kick the rib-area of his non-existent foe, making use of the time the guy would need to get up. However, it was possible that due to the position of the foe who was getting up, the opponent might be able to dodge the kick… But that would be a worry for later, if need be he could always stab the shoulder of his foe with the dagger he still held in his hand, rendering the sword useless. Or if the kick was blocked somehow he could just chain another one after it and another, eventually breaking through the man’s guard.

Of course, to knock his opponent out he needed to use either a pinpoint blow or attack the head with powerful punches. Either way, he’d have to get close for a bit and due to the kick he’d just delivered he could do just that. Without wasting time Brandon closed in while the man was still flinching from hurting his ribs and aimed a blow to the jaw, but the guy dodged just barely. However, this close his weapon was useless, whereas Brandon’s daggers were not. With his other hand –the one with the blade- the bat sliced the man’s arm when it came up in an attempt to slam the pommel into the thief’s face. However, the foe’s other hand was not useless and headed for his nose, fingers clenched into a fist. It was dodged easily enough, a step to the side was all it took. That did gave the bat an opening to attack, with a quick motion he switched to reverse grip and slammed the hilt of his dagger against the man’s head multiple times.

The extra hardness should be enough to make up for not striking the temple. And it actually did. Well, in Brandon’s imagination it did anyway, the opponent fell to the ground with eyes turning upwards and Bran dodged the falling body with an elegant cartwheel, grinning widely. Imaginary foes were no match for him, but they were good to train with, to practice moves even if one did not use their specific style of fighting.

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Credit goes to Ollic

by **Brandon Blackwing** on August 18th, 2014, 1:18 pm

His aim still needed work, whether he was competent in beating imaginary foes or not, practice made perfect. A yawn tore his lips apart, hot air slowly flowing out as his eyes were pinched to a shut. Oh, he was getting tired already, that was a good thing. However, he couldn’t give up now, not yet. If he wanted to sleep he would have to exhaust himself, not just be tired. So, the bat grabbed two daggers before bending his knees and getting ready to jump, facing the target he’d drawn on the wall. A brief grin and he propelled himself upwards.

Brandon's back arched backwards during his jump, which made him spin mid-air, turning all the way back so his feet touched down on the ground again. However, the contact with the floor was not entirely as Bran had willed it. Instead of firmly planting his feet on the ground, he lost balance upon touching down, probably because he had not spun far enough or maybe a bit too far. Balance compromised, Brandon fell to the ground, but still hurled one of the daggers towards the target. While he had taken aim for the legs, his purpose was not to hit it but to free one of his hands to break his fall.

It was just in time that he had reacted, the thief managed to catch his falling body with one hand pushing him into a sideways roll, instead of him slamming into the wooden boards. From there it took Brandon no time at all to get back to his feet, and his eyes confirmed the location of his thrown dagger. While it had been aimed for the shin, it had struck a different spot that should have taken the foe out too. Brandon mouthed an ‘o’ in sympathy for the charcoal drawing as he pulled the blade out of the private area of the target.

Sighing, Brandon sheathed his blades again and lowered himself into a fighting stance. With a whim of his mind he summoned an opponent to his room, one with no weapon this time. His foe assumed a fighting pose as well and charged at Brandon. A quick sidestep was all that was needed to dodge, but it could also confuse his foe, making them believe the bat had disappeared. Of course, it needed great and exact timing and a swift foot to gain that effect, but even if it did not, a charging opponent needed time to stop and turn around. It was that moment that Bran used to attack.

While the foe was busy stopping its charge, the thief closed in and formed a knife hand which he then used to deliver a sharp chop on the enemy’s neck. What exactly caused it Brandon did not know, but if the chop hit a certain spot on the side of the neck –either side- the target would faint. Well, he supposed it had to do with disrupting something, but what was unknown to him. He was no doctor after all. Still, it worked and even if a target did not faint because of it, it would experience dizziness and a fuzzy mind.

Likewise, when used on the forearm of a foe, it could make it numb, thus hindering the control said opponent had over his own body. Such techniques were the ones Bran liked using but hadn’t been able to since he wasn’t really experienced enough. He had trained on using them, but even during sparring matches he only rarely had seen an opportunity to execute it and even fewer times with success. But now, if he focused on them and made them a part of his style, he might be able to pull it off. Naturally, he’d need a lot of training still.

However, it could be quite the potent combination; exhaust foes by dodging their attacks and then strike with pinpoint blows. As stated before though, he also needed to improve his stamina before he could use his strategy like it was supposed to. Once he was ready though …. Haha, Blackarm, next time we clash you won’t be able to lay a finger on me. Not even with your surprise magic attacks!

For the remainder of time Brandon did the same exercises he had done for warming up: push-ups, sit-ups and squats. All were done in blocks of ten, but now Brandon also threw some punches and kicks in between the sets. While it was tiring as hell and by the time he had done five sets of those he was sweating as if he had been running through the desert, he did not stop. Not only did the sweating affect his body, but his arms and legs trembled due to effort, and his punches and kicks were considerably slower and weaker than before. Still, he did not stop, not even when his throat burned and felt as if someone had used a file on it. Until the point that the thief collapsed mid-push up and was unable to get back up, arms heavy and trembling. His legs too but a bit less. After a try or two he gave up, laid his cheek on the wood, yawned and closed his eyes. The darkness enveloped him and within a couple of chimes his consciousness had drifted off into the realms of sleep.

c

Credit goes to Ollic

by **Kismet** on September 1st, 2014, 1:44 am

“I knew it like destiny, and at the same time, I knew it as choice.”

Brandon Blackwing

Brandon Blackwing :

I will do my best to give you what grades you have earned! However, if there is something you feel I missed or anything you have questions on please don't hesitate to PM me and we can talk.

Larceny	+1 XP
Endurance	+2 XP
Weapon: Dagger	+4 XP
Unarmed Combat	+2 XP
Drawing	+1 XP

Solo A late night workout