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Post by corruptedcorvid on Jun 29, 2017 19:43:44 GMT -6
Shut up and Train
Featuring Bale and Axenus
Setting: Valore, Eithne
Time period: Not specified |
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Post by corruptedcorvid on Jun 29, 2017 19:48:59 GMT -6
[ Axenus ]
With the sun already high in the sky, the early morning coolness was slowly pushed aside for the afternoon heat. A patrol had been done within the few hours, doing his normal rounds before setting up dummies to work attacks on and practice defense. He’d pause briefly, main and tail tied up into a bun to keep out of the way as a thin layer of sweat shined on his champagne coat in the sun. It’d already been hot, but the extra movement and workout added more. Thankfully, he’d remembered to bring a canteen of water with him to sip from when the heat became too much.
A huff escaped from his lips, nostrils flaring and chest heaving with heavy breaths. His head was dipped low, sword resting in the dirt at his hooves as his eyes watched the dummy ahead. Sword fighting was easy, the first thing he learned and got familiar with; how to hold a sword, counter attacks and parry. A little extra practice never hurt anyone and he enjoyed it, but he’d never gotten much work down with other weapons. He wanted to take the day to get some extra practice in, work himself to the max, yet he still insisted on picking up his sword first rather than the crossbow he laid aside for target practice on the targets he set up or a mace to butcher a poor dummy in more ways than just slicing at them.
There was always things for him to learn, even in swordsmanship where he wasn’t always perfect. Some days he fought better than others or had a perfect stand with his sword while on others he may have lacked or misjudged before aiming a blow. He gripped at the hilt of his sword, his telekinesis lazily lifting it up as he darted forward, straight towards the dummy before kicking off and leaping to the side instead for a strike that ripped through the material of the dummy. He sometimes wondered how an attack would go if they could fight back or at least block and move, enchanted with magic in some ways that left them less vulnerable than they were.
His tail swished behind him, a few strands of long, brown hair falling free from their prison in the bun they'd been placed in. Even along his neck there were a few strands of runaways, sticking to his sweaty coat. Being a Chevalier and doing what he did was great, the only downside was looking unkempt after work despite how he did enjoy the eyes that landed on him here and there. Well. He couldn’t have everything, he guessed.
Word Count: 441 | Post #1 |
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Deleted
Deleted Member
Posts: 0
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Post by Deleted on Jul 6, 2017 16:36:28 GMT -6
Bale had been doing great, both in practise and in the pit. It was pretty handy, since whatever injuries he got while fighting, he could afterwards easily heal. Despite that, he wasn't about to go easy on training, it was something that gave him purpose and made his master proud. And the more rooted into Aodh he got, the more that meant to him.
He was setting towards the training site, his new sword strapped to his side. Even its hilt shone with the sun, and was much more decorative than any slave really had a reason to own. Yes, in ways like these his master was kind, and the high way of living had started to rub on Bale.
He halted once he saw that there was already someone there, and not just anothet pit slave either, but one of the Chevaliers. Bale had done as much as possible to avoid the rank after the branding, and sharing practise wasn't too high on his list. He had hoped others would avoid the high peak of the sun, but no such luck. After a short pause to consider, Bale set up a bit further away on the practise field, minding his own business. He drew his sparkling sword, getting used to the feel and balance point with relaxed, unaimed swings at first.
Word count: 265
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