PM to join Pain is Fleeting, Experience is Everlasting. (Imellion)

[Alexander Faircroft]

23rd Spring 516AV

Description "Alex Common" Alex thoughts "Myrian" "Fratava" "Others"

A warmer than usual for this time of year. Alex walked through the syliran streets basking in the warmth, a small walk to the training grounds was something he needed to wake him up. The bristling arsenal of blades and steel adorning him was something that people still paused and gawked at as he wandered the streets. Instead of heading directly to the training grounds though Alex went in the complete opposite direction and headed out to the docks. Primarily to watch over the sea, to look out over the ocean and ponder things. He watched the ripples of the waves and the cold spray of the sea washing over his face. Still the slow walk away from the docks towards the training ground was somewhat sullen.

Alex enjoyed the ocean and looking out over the lands and having the main castle block his view of the sea was something that didn’t sit well with him. It never did and it never would. He’d spent the last five years of his life by the ocean, and not having that wild blue expanse within his sight at all times didn’t sit well with him. Still he didn’t push with it too hard. He climbed the stairs to the training ground and drew the bastard sword from his side. Alex picked a dummy and began the basic strokes. Left, right, diagonal, reverse, cross.

Simple repetitive motions that he ran through time and time again. Looking for a way to push through the monotony. He’d done this every day for a season near enough and was finding that as much as he found the basics to be essential it wasn’t satisfying him. He didn’t feel as he did at the start of his training. He felt like he wasn’t moving in leaps and bounds but in small shuffles. Building a firm foundation, but out of paper and not stone. If his interest waned he couldn’t find firm footing. Only then did he step back to take a long wide swing and felt his back impact something. Spinning around he caught sight of the figure he’d collided with.

[Imellion]

23 Day of Spring, 516 AV

Imellion walked alongside Sera Lynia Vesel, her patron, who strode through the streets in full plate armor, walking stick rapping against the stones with every step. The woman was not saying anything. Not yet, anyway. She was merely watching and listening as Imellion walk around in full plate armor. Even this small sized suit of armor was awkward to walk in. Not that it felt over-heavy or imbalanced, but just the weight it added to all of her limbs and torso.

"How does it feel, Imellion?" Lynia asked finally, as they paused to greet some passing citizens, who had smiles in their eyes as they saw Imellion's issues with the armor.

The girl herself gave a bit of a grimace and adjusted the scabbard by her side and the shield on her arm. Why was everything so cumbersome? Was there no other way to pursue the goals of the Syliran knights?

"I feel... awkward, Sera," Imellion said after a moment of trying to keep everything out of the way before giving up. Sera Lynia nods, hiding a small smile of her own.

"Excellent, that is an ideal beginning for further sword practice," Lynia saids, looking ahead to the training grounds. Imellion stopped suddenly, eyes wide, but followed Lynia as she strode into the training grounds that echoed with the sound of swords and metal.

Lynia staggered as a young man, overburdened with armor and weapons bumped into her, knocking her off balance, during his training.

Imellion moved, stepping in alongside her patron to try and catch her, but the older woman waved her off, leaning on the cane to regain her balance studying the two of them carefully.

"Squire Imellion," Sera Lynia said after a moment, "I believe this young man shall be your practice partner, unless his time is dedicated to something from his patron."

Imellion stared at her, eyes wide as she stared at the man who towered over her with scars across his face.

"I... will do so, " Imellion said after a moment, forcing herself to confront the size difference. She would never get any bigger and would always face larger opponents. Tyveth help me. She turned to the taller squire to formally introduce herself.

"I am Imellion, Squire of Sera Lynia. Will you practice with me?"

The words, and the voice, no, the person, they come from felt odd to Imellion, like they were not truly herself. But then, the self she viewed herself as had changed. No longer was she the timid slave girl who scarce could speak when spoken to. Now, she was a squire of the Syliran knights, and their identity had become part of her own.

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[Alexander Faircroft]

Description "Alex Common" Alex thoughts "Myrian" "Fratava" "Others"

Alex immediately apologized to Sera Vesel, a slight bow and and a meaningful apology he sincerely didn’t think there was anyone behind him. Alex cocked his head lightly at the mention of him being used as a dummy again. Seeing Sera Vesel study both him and the other squire that had been trailing behind her he paused a moment. The sword still in his hand. Alex shifted his head over to look at the squire he’d be training with apparently. Why not it seemed he was on loan to every Knight that needed to train their squire. At least as far as Ser Greyheart was concerned.

Alex didn’t even get a mention in the series of events that followed simply looking between them flashing his gaze from patron to squire. What was he being roped into now? The injury from Revy the other week was still tender, and he didn’t feel completely up to sparring but then again. Perhaps that was what he needed. To learn to fight whilst injured. The squire stepped before him introducing herself as Imellion, asking if he’d practice with her. Alex said nothing for a half tick simply taking in her measure. Small, light frame, large brown eyes. Alex exhaled slowly and nodded before speaking lightly. His usual voice evident the soft airy smoothness to it not a contrast to his height and visage.

“If you wish to train with me at the behest of your patron Imellion. Who am I to deny such a request?” Alex gave a soft smile before introducing himself. “My name is Alexander Faircroft. Squire to Ser Greyheart, sergeant knight.” Alex whiled the sword around his arm lightly. The blade he carried was almost as long as she was tall by comparison. As such he felt he held a significant advantage over her with it. So instead of using that blade, he chose to sheathe it, instead opting to draw the shorts word at his side. It’s overall length only two feet but given the fact he needed to learn how to wield it as fluidly as he’d been learning the other blades that adorned his person.

Alex lifted his shield in front of him. Turning his body to the side as he did so. The short sword held at his hip instead of his usual stance with his blade poking out lightly over his shield with his arm raised. This wasn’t his first time using the shorter blade but it was the first time he’d used it against a moving target. He lowered his posture bending his knees to help with his stability. Given the sheer number of blades and the weight of all his gear he used it all for stability and rooting his feet. “Challengers move first.” He smirked lightly shifting his right foot back to give her a very small series of targets to strike at without going for the shield. If she struck from the front.

[Imellion]

Imellion waited as the other squire, Alexander, apologized to Sera Lynia, ducking her head behind the edge of her shield to hide the small smile, that Sera Lynia managed to prevent with only a slight twinkle in her eyes, but she frowned at one of his comments after to Imellion.

The older woman leaned more heavily on her cane and frowned before rapping the stones with her stick.

"Alexander," She said calmly, "You are a squire of the Syliras knights, tasked with learning not only battle, but integrity and honor and eventually, to lead knights into battle under your own command."

She took a step back and looked to Imellion, who took a deep breath and stepped forward, lowering her shield.

"I ask if you would be my practice partner for now to ask if you would," Imellion explained, forcing all the words out at an audible level. "And only if you would." She almost continued the phrase with "not if you feel forced to" but stopped herself.

There was still something about the hierarchy that made her feel ill and used, like she had been dragged through mud. Or locked in a wagon amidst filthy straw with a cold iron collar around her neck. She shuddered as the feeling of some filthy residue wriggled across her neck.

"If you truly desire though..."

That was also she said for that phrase, unsheathing her long sword and raising her shield, gritting her teeth as the weight on the arms and armor made it difficult to keep her arms up.

She shifted slightly backwards, with her back leg reaching back behind her while the other was bent forward at the knee. Imellion wobbled from the stance, and she lost her position trying to regain her balance. Her foot slipped, but she caught herself.

Sera Lynia moved out of the way of the practice area, gesturing for others to clear the vicinity as well before leaning heavily on her walking staff to observe.

Imellion pushed herself back into her stance, with her sword held out past the edge of the shield, pointing forward. She tried to think this through, in terms of advantages. Alexander was significantly taller than her, so he had longer arms. But her sword was longer, so that should have been in her advantage. He also was stronger, and she had no way to overcome that difference, as he seemed to move significantly better despite the amount of weapons he carried on top of his weapons.

She tilted her head to one side, still trying to think this through and ignore the burn beginning her arms. She would have to try and tackle this quickly before her arms gave out.



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[Alexander Faircroft]

Description "Alex Common" Alex thoughts "Myrian" "Fratava" "Others"

Alex listened to the chastising from Sera Lynia, opting to listen to what she had to say. The remark about his comment was one of distaste but it appeared as if she misread his intent behind it commenting on him having to learn integrity and honour but that was something that he took offence with and absent minded chose to make a retort on. “Honour and integrity cannot be taught. It’s a matter of earning honour, and with regards to integrity it’s something that can only be broken. With respect though my words were simply to state that it would be easier if she could move first, this would allow me to better assess where to help her out.” Alex offered a small sincere smile as way of apology upon realization that he’d spoken partially out of turn.

Alex turned back to face Imellion. Her words meeting a similar response stern but not unkind. “If I’m going to have to explain my actions it’s going to take a long while. What I said meant I’d be happy to assist. A simple change of words and see how clear things become?” Alex flexed his fingers around the handle of his short sword.

Alex held a firmly grounded stance facing off against Imellion now. Alex seemed calm. Almost unnervingly so like the situation wasn’t phasing him. In all honesty it wasn’t. Alex had faced off against people of the same height as himself and pycons so much smaller it was damned near impossible to hit them. With a single step, a sliding stride of his foot he completely bridged the gap of space between them. The longer reach of her afforded her nothing if she couldn’t bring it to bear. Something he knew all too well. He’d closed the gap suddenly without warning just to simply see how she’d react to someone entering her space her area.

Alex watched her. Hoping to see some variation in her. Hoping to see the timidity he’d caught before not spilling out from her, he wanted to see if she was capable of becoming something other than what she was. If she was able to focus her mind into what she needed to wield. A blade. A weapon in both mind and body, cutting through the false information that her opponent would throw at her. Alex stood poised before her now, looking ready to throw a strike but instead trying to bait out her sword. If he could he’d deflect it and use the opening to let off his own attack. If he’d managed to follow through he’d press the edge of the short sword in his hand against the steel of her sword arm, signalling that he’d effectively taken her arm and sword with it.

[Imellion]

Sera Lynia gave a small nod and tight frown but stepped back to let them proceed. She could clarify later on that those were not what she had intended to say. Given such a response, she had been far from clear and owed the squire a very sincere apology.

Imellion had stopped noticing her patron at this point, focusing completely on the weapons in her hand and the opponent in front of her. Why did he have to be so calm? Nobody could be that composed all the time, could they? It didn't seem natural. Her entire life, the people around her had been explosive, freely venting their feelings, thoughts, and often fists, on her.

Then he was stepping forward suddenly, cutting off her movement, and for a moment, a flare of panic rose up her throat, vision super-imposing with another man from years ago stepping towards her. She was pulled back in time, scene changing. Not a city, but a forest far to the North, dark and despite the summer feeling, oh so cold.

But she bit her lip as she took a step back, raising her shield in front of to protect herself. Not from Alexander, but this other man. From Krith, who had haunted her nightmares and waking dreams for years, leaving her to live in terror. She gritted her teeth and took a deep breath, pushing that fear away and letting herself get angry. It surged through her body and then she stepped forward with her left foot, twisting her body to wrench her shield arm around across her front towards his sword.

There wasn't enough room to use her sword here, not while holding a shield. That, and she needed room. It was choking at her mind and her throat. Her breathing caught in her throat and her hands wanted to tremble, but she kept them still, clutching at her hilt and shield-strap, preparing for whatever impact that might arrive shortly.

She twisted with the movement, so that she stood with her left shoulder facing him and her sword held with the blade protruding past the right edge of her shield.

Then she stopped, breathing heavily again and sweat beginning to soak her hair and drip down the inside of her armor. Why was the armor so heavy? Was there no lighter type of armor? One that wouldn't weigh her down? At another time, she would have to look into it.

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[Alexander Faircroft]

Description "Alex Common" Alex thoughts "Myrian" "Fratava" "Others"

When Alex closed the gap something happened he didn’t fully expect something he didn’t count on happening. Imellion retreated. Hauling he shield up in front of her and shrinking behind it. Though in that brief moment Alex’s intent to follow through was momentarily shaken. She shifted her shield and knocked his sword away before she shifted her stance more. Slipping her feet to line up and presenting her shoulder and shield arm towards him. Alex raised a hand for a moment.
“One tick.” He took a few steps back hoping that she would grant him this. He unbuckled his shield from around his arm shifting it’s position layering it flat across his arm so the point of the shield covered the back of his hand and the fat came up to half way up his bicep.

Alex took a slow breath and changed his strategy. He slipped the short blade back into its sheath before drawing his bastard sword again. Alex mirrored her stance now with a singular form, something taught to all knights but this particular form a variation that Alex and his patron used. It held the same amount of defence but did not sacrifice the power nor mobility for it. Alex took a deep solid breath and then stepped in again, keeping his shield over and masking her blade with it, if she struck out he’d swing his arm and parry the blade to the side his bastard sword would then aim to impact her shield. Not intending to break her guard if he did that was a by-product, but he was testing the strength of it. Hoping to see if she would buckle under the force of the blow under the weight.

“Imellion. What are you so afraid of?” He spoke with an eerie calmness almost like it didn’t belong. If his attacks worked he’d step into her space again looming his height over her and bring his shield back to nullify her blade. His own sword arm would be free to make another strike. However if his attacks failed or she retreated away he’d fall back into his stance and allow her to make the next move, watching and planning from a position of caution.

[Imellion]

Imellion held her stance after he requested that pause, although she did not know if that was the right thing or not. In a real battle, her enemies would not give her that and would use that moment to their advantage. Yet for her to take that same tack seemed inappropriate. She stared, head tilted, as he changed his shield position. Why? What did that do? She shot a glance at her patron, who returned it with a shrug.

How did one even use a shield held that way? It seemed the angle would be all off and that arm movements would be awkward, especially if the arm was hit heavily. But then, she had to admit, she wouldn't be hitting at a level that would break anything. Maybe make his arm sore if she did everything right, but that was hardly something she expected.

Then he brought out a longer sword, much more similar to her own. So essentially, a longsword with a different hilt by the look of it. He even mirrored her stance, but with the different shield position.

Then he stepped in again and she braced herself this time, bending her knees so that one was above her foot and any impact would go to her legs. That was what she had been told anyways. She bit her lip as she considered, trying to think this through despite his presence looming over her.

She struck out in a forward thrust, aiming to slip above his guard, but the shield went up to meet it and knocked her blade aside as his own came crashing down onto her shield. It rocked her back, knees sagging to absorb the impact as her arm seemed to vibrate and stung with the force. It was only after that she remembered that she was supposed to use the shield to deflect, not take hits directly with the shield, but it was too late for that now.

She still stood, however, stance a bit askew and a little dazed, but she stood tall, relatively. She pushed with her legs to push her sword forward again and dropped her sword in a diagonal slash trying to catch at his shins, but it was at that moment he caught the question. Again, it was so calm and disaffected.

"Imellion. What are you so afraid of?"

She faltered as images flashed in front of her again. Cold winter nights huddled in rags beneath a wagon. A whip cracking and flashing down on her back over and over until she was numb and could no longer feel a thing. Glints of ill-intent in the eyes of desperate men as they stared at her too long. Years of hunger and pain. She was falling into it, nearly drowning but she forced it aside, calling to mind something else.

Priskil and her vigil of light for her fallen lover, whose presence burned even in the darkest times. Imellion called to mind that image of light and let it flood through her mind, burning through the darkness. Imellion took a moment let out a quick, quiet prayer. "Thank you, Priskil."

She forced herself back into the moment and tried to think of a way to answer that, eventually forcing out an answer that probably sounded of bravado and foolishness.

"I fear nothing anymore but my memories."

Which in honesty, was hardly true, but it felt right. She was not so much afraid of what might happen as what had already happened. And surely things could not be worse than they had before so what was left to fear? Her greatest fear now was herself.


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[Alexander Faircroft]

Description "Alex Common" Alex thoughts "Myrian" "Fratava" "Others"

Alex stood above her his stance crouched now slightly to allow him a better look at Imellions face to watch for any emotions any falters. He wanted to see what made her so afraid. Clearly it wasn’t him, but he recognized the fear, he’d seen it in people who’d been forced against their will. He dropped his arm lightly to catch the strike. Her hits were shallow, weak. He took the impact against his shield and let his eyes bore right into hers waiting for a reply. For something. As he asked she recoiled, something in her dragging her attention away from the events before her. Had he been a more aggressive opponent she may have already been crushed against the floor.

At her answer Alex smirked, she feared her memories. So that’s what it was. Alex brought the pommel of his sword to bear against her shield hitting it with more the force of a hammer than of a sword. A conviction behind his swings that from the impact he took he thought she lacked.
“You fear the past. And it blinds you too the future.” Alex took a deep breath and stepped back as he did the sigil of the watchtower that looped around his throat with the other gods sigils popped out.
Priskil. Please give this one your guidance. Let her see that, the past is gone, but the hope of a better future still exists.

As he looked at her a spark of lighting flashed in his eyes, brief but more of a force of will than one of imposing intimidation. His strangely calm demeanour held, he brought his sword across again making full use of the range he’d opened up and the reach of his own sword too. As the arc of the sword either impacted or missed he’d retract the blade and then step in with his shield arm aiming to parry her strike again and deflect it off to the side. He was trying to get across the point that taking what life threw wasn’t an option in the long run. She’s have to change things course. And he was trying to convey this with his own fighting style something that he knew spoke louder than he ever could, for actions spoke louder than words.

CreditMassive thanks to Fire for this awesome template.

[Imellion]

Imellion braced herself as he brought his pommel around to slam into her shield, knocking it back against her armor, rattling through the training grounds around them. She took a few steps back and then ducked behind her shield again as his sword came swinging around. It rattled across her arm and she gritted her teeth.

“You fear the past. And it blinds you too the future," Alexander said, and Imellion looked up again, stopping in surprise at the pendants around the neck. A watchtower? That was Priskil's sigil. Was he another follower of Priskil? It would certainly make sense, but she had never met another one who followed Priskil in Syliras yet. Yahal and Tyvth and Sylir, who was apparently dead but not anymore, were the main ones, although she still didn't know a whole lot about them.

But blind to the future? She set her jaw and tried to think through this next set of moves. He had the range advantage again and could batter at her with impunity.

"My future is clear," She said finally, "I shall be a Syliran knight for the glory of Sylir and the service of Priskil." She didn't finish the sentence, since it was rather embarrassing. First she had to win this duel. Or survive it, anyways.

She followed with a quick thrust from the side, feeling it clatter against his shield and go to the side. Then she twisted to the right, taking his sword on her shield. Imellion followed the twisting motion to keep pushing his sword around and tilting her shield to push the blade up and away. She yanked her own sword back behind her to clear it and then thrust it forward, leading with her body and shield to try and slip beneath his defenses towards his torso.

It made her vulnerable, as her sword-arm was extended and within Alexander's own sword-reach. Her whole body was leaning forward and off balance because of that. It was a risk she would have to take, as the armor and shield were weighing her down. Perhaps it was time to try a leather shield. It would be lighter. Or a smaller wooden shield. But that would come later.

If her earlier movements of trying to twist him off balance succeeded, she would keep herself moving forward to try and just hit him full force with her body and armor to see if she could knock him off balance. There was no longer an option of fighting defensively and letting him control the duel. Victory would only be on her terms. She hoped the lunge might get through and land a hit on his armor, but she didn't expects, so a battering ram was the last thing she could think of.

It felt odd to be so active and not simply responding. It shook up her old way of thinking, forced her to look at herself differently. Imellion would no longer just survive, now she would change events. The thought almost through off her focus, but she pushed it away.



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