71st Sunberth Fall, 514A.V
There was something about dead people that fascinated him, and when the mist of the dust bed lifted, he had not hesitated to explore the newly opened land. He wasn't surprised to see the size of the graveyard, this was Sunberth after all. Most of the poor saps might have died from hunger, dehydration, or by the hand of another. Petch with all the things that had been going on, he wouldn't have been surprised if one of his victims were in the land of the dead, laying to rest somewhere. Stopping to read words engraved onto a tombstone, the Akalak quickly gave up when noticing them to be in another language. Taking another turn, he continued his journey, amazed at all of the bodies that laid rest in the city, and these were the one's that were found. Walking out into an opening, he stopped. This was the perfect place for his training. Taking the great-sword from his back, he held it in one hand trying to keep it steady before it dropped to the ground. Using both hands now, he lifted the weapon. A tree sat in the graveyard was his target.
Giving swing at the trunk of the tree, the weight of the weapon made him spin onto the ground. More control. Assuming his starting position, he attacked the tree again, this time clutching the sword with a stronger grip. As before he had made contact, the blade bounced off the tree and out of his hand before dropping to the ground. Now he had too much control. He wasn't going to learn like this. If it were a real fight, his opponent wouldn't stand in on spot. Nor did he want to wield one sword with two hands. If he wanted to learn how to use the petching heirloom given to him by his father, he would do it the way he wanted to learn. He gripped the sword with one hand, flexing his muscles to hold the weapon sturdy. It was a 5ft sword, meant for humans if anything, but it was still heavy. He could only imagine how much heavier it would have been if he weren't as strong as he was. Bringing his arm out hand holding the outside of the hilt as if it were a regular sword, he gave a horizontal slash as he would if he were holding it with two hands. His muscles gave out, dropping the nose of the sword before it reached its target, causing him to miss and his weapon to travel from his hand and into the nearby brush.
The day was disappointing, not only did he fail once again at learning how to use the weapon, but now he was in the bushes trying to find his sword. The sun bounced off the steel blade revealing its location, glad that he wouldn't be stuck out in the graveyard for bells on end, he quickly retrieved the weapon thus turning around to a place that he did not recognize. Where were the tombstones with the weird language, and the open space, and the tree that had to endure his failed attempts? Emerging from the brush, he started walking hoping that he would run into something familiar only to get more lost than he already was. A left? No it was a right? Or was is left then right? It didn't take him long to wander into a completely unrecognizable area. Frustrated, he began to walk into a different direction before the sound of footsteps caught his ear. Someone was coming, maybe the would know how to get out of this petching place.