PM to join Shall we have a go? [Ferrin]

[Rivialle]

Symenos | Common | Thoughts

86th of Winter
The male Symenestra took a glance around his location, his brow furrowing in confusion. He was lost. Again. Syliras was a big place, and he hadn't been unfortunate to grow up here, so he was having some trouble finding out where the hell he was. He meant to go to somewhere were he could get a bite to eat, but... There seemed to be nowhere here that he could go. Rivialle rubbed his chin, looking around, bright amethyst eyes touching everything for but a moment, searching. His brow furrowed even more, before he sighed inaudibly, and adjusted his silk cloak. He was further garbed in his white silk shirt, black silk pants, and Symenstra-sandals, which were secured to his feet with a few strips of leather over his heel, rapier sheathed at the left side of his waist. Strapped over his right forearm with a few thicker pieces of leather was a small buckler.

Pulling off his pack, he took out one of the two fruits he'd left inside there, the rest at Traveler's Row, where he was staying. Replacing his pack, he brought the fruit to his mouth, looking as if he were about to take a bite. He opened his mouth, revealing his elongated canines a few inches long. They grew slightly, noticeably, before he bite down, driving the fangs easily past the outer skin of the fruit. He could feel the venom flowing out of him and into the fruit, which started to very, very slowly soften.

~~~~ A few bells later ~~~~

The pale man peeled back a small part of the fruit's skin with a sharp, black nail, the skin moving in tune with its contents, which were now liquid. He brought the skin-and-juice to his mouth, sighing mentally as his thirst and hunger were quenched with food. Draining the entire thing in minutes as he walked, he threw the limp peel away, wiping his mouth.

As his now free hand moved to the hilt of his rapier sheathed at his waist, he started to hear grunts, yells, and the crash of swords, though barely at the edge of his vision. He tilted his head curiously, stopping his graceful stride to hear better. He took a few steps forward, before continuing, following the sound. If there was a battle, he could get some practice. If it was a spar, well, he could get some practice.

As the sounds of combat became the main sounds near him, the tips of his lips quirked in slight excitement and mischief. He walked past a building, then was assaulted by the sight of a battle in what looked like the destroyed remains of some building, decked out with racks of battlefield gear, punching bags, and dummies, many men and women battering the various pieces of equipment and each other. Yes, he could get some practice.

He removed his cloak, suddenly hit by the slight cold of Winter. He draped it over his arm as he plodded to a dummy. He set his cloak on the floor, before his shield-clad arm drew his rapier with a swift slash through the air in front of him and bowing slowly to the dummy in one motion, the slash having cut a small but long cut on the gear's midsection.

He turned on the heels of his feet, his sword arm facing the dummy and the front of his body out, reducing the size of himself as a target. His free hand was out to the side, helping keep his balance as he seemed to get a bit taller, slightly standing on the tips of his toes.

He darted forward, sword seeming to nearly disappear as he swung the blade with a flourish, ending with a powerful jab at the thing's face before darting back and to the side, moving back to his stance. He spun on his heel, moving towards the dummy and ending the move with a jab to the thing's chest, driving the blade into it before withdrawing it and once more moving position. He stopped at that point for a second, a frown flitting across his pale face. He hadn't meant to hit right there, it was supposed to hit the dummy's stomach-area. On top of that, he was slightly dizzy. He'd have to work on that spin.

Closing his eyes, he imagined the dummy as a real opponent. He moved back to his stance, bouncing slightly on the tip of his toes. As his imaginary adversary took a step towards him, a longsword gripped in his hand. As the fake man swung his sword, Rivialle took a few steps back, out of reach, before running forward and slashing at his opponent's exposed inner arm, his sword cutting into the same part of the dummy. His opponent recovered and thrust his blade, Rivialle spun into the attack, driving his rapier nearly hilt deep into the dummy's chest. Damn it, he uttered in Symenos. He let go of the handle of the rapier, leaving the sword sticking in and out of the dummy, taking a step back.

[Ferrin Al'Mandrikan]

86-WINTER-515AV

The day was still, but calming throughout the early of the morning. Ferrin and both Jade had just finished their breakfast and both had plans to be suited on doing, Jade and her newly registered job as an animal handler. And Ferrin had his free days intended merely for just training. He longed to become a Syliran Knight, let alone a Squire. The Kenashian hadn't even focused on becoming one of the Squires. Though, the protocols of becoming a Knight would be having to first become a Squire after a few years or so, and thus more training would even ensue.

Unfortunately, Ferrin couldn't bring his short broadsword that was sharp and pointy at the tip. Against one of the policies at The Fighters Pit. And possibly even the Training Grounds. Ferrin grabbed his cloak and swathed it about his waist after hooking it by the button and slipped on his boots. He said his goodbye to Jade. And he walked out. The man lightly closed the door behind him to not disturb any piece and quite that rested through the Traveler's Row.

It closed with a light tap. And the Kenashian soon swiftly swooped down the stairs said his goodbye to the owner, Matilda Owens and went outside through the streets of Syliras.



"The Hai boy. Watch your step!"An old grouchy man exclaimed. He was undoubtedly aged by his looks, rings across his face, shadows beneath his eyelids wrinkles about all over his face, grey pieces of hair stranded about his head. One could say that this man was a work of creation. Especially by the means of his ageness. And he somehow inherited the acts of rudeness. Ferrin hadn't apologized to the old man for that the aged man simply walked away and was swallowed by the depths of the river that flowed with people whom walked to place to place.

Ferrin simply joined in on the current of people. Living within the walls for a few seasons allowed Ferrin to adapt to the surroundings that were built within. Though, the people seemed to not have cared that he was a new comer. The man took another turn. And another. He was soon greeted by the acts of noisy swords clashing against one another. And the noise of chattering and moaning. The Kenashian could never get used to a place with this much noise, but the noise doesn't entirely bother him. No.

It would possibly be more louder as he would once become a Squire. Knights ordering their own recruits with task by task. And swing and thrust. Telling their squires how to do this and that. And when once he met Archailist, a squire for The Order, the Pycon explained that he was within the regiment as a recruit for about a few years or was it seasons as of a squire.

He hurried to where the rack of weapons were placed. One upon another. Dummies in one region of the arena looking site. And a specified area for dueling and fighting. For the reason it being called "The Fighters Pit." Ferrin browsed the types of swords and he decided that the best Short Broadsword was the one with the unrusted hilt, swathed in leather wrappings. And the blade merely rusted and tip blunt. Wistfully, the Kenashian lowered his hood as the wind hadn't bothered him much. And strolled over cautiously to where the dummies were positioned.

A few appeared to be battered up with cuts and slashed. Torn a bit in certain places of the dummies bodies. There was a man, in front of one of the dummies who seemed frustrated. The fact being, he cursed. Ferrin knew instantly that this man whoever he was, was trying to master a technique. One of which the Kenashian hadn't noticed before.

"Is everything alright sir?"The Kenashian asked. As he strolled slowly next to the man, and watched with an eye for each step that he took.