Odd Man Out

Knights’ Practice Room


-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-= You stand on the chamber which serves the Knights’ Practice Room. One part is dedicated to hand to hand combat, and the rest of the area has stands for straw dummies. You can also see much of the countryside from here. On a chair near the door sits the old sergeant, Doel, who maintains the equipment. -=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=


You can go: Equipment Room <E>

Contents: A daughter of eve with short, copper hair (Megren); A son of adam

with a scarred throat (Lanisen); Doel, the Trainer; and Straw Target.

Megren sits on one of the benches pushed up against the wall, where she is doing a few stretches to warm up.

Lanisen sits next to her, his forehead furrowed, asking questions about the stretches she’s doing.

Haft steps into the room, dressed for practice.

Megren explains the purpose and execution, occasionally nudging Lanisen into the right position. She looks up at the sound of someone entering.

Lanisen glances up as well, and something in his face goes uncertain and still. He looks down at the practice sword next to him a little helplessly.

Haft glances around the room.  He sees Megren and Lanisen by the wall and nods agreeably.

Megren smiles at Haft, and gives Lanisen a checking glance.

Lanisen shrugs uncomfortably at her.

Haft sits down a couple of benches away and begins stretching.

Megren makes a face at him and gets up, tapping her sword against the ground and then moving to combat a target with it.

Lanisen picks up his sword and rests it across his knees.

Haft rises and focuses and warming up, observing Megren’s form when convenient to his posture.

Megren’s form and strength have improved visibly over the last 6 months, enough so that the target practice seems rather rote.

Lanisen keeps quiet on the bench, working his right hand through a series of exercises, then repeating with the left.

Haft rises and takes up a practice sword, finding a target near Megren’s.

Megren stays concentrated on her target, only pausing to glance at Lanisen when she pauses to rest and wipe her brow. Her eyes linger on him assessingly for a good moment.

Lanisen lowers his hands to his lap, twisting his fingers together in a fidgety sort of way.

Haft goes through a series of advanced forms, with precision, but not at any great speed.

Megren tilts her head to one side and then the other, cracking her neck, then goes to sit next to Lanisen. “Hungry?”

Lanisen says, “Um.” He lifts his shoulders. “Are you?”

Someone paying attention might notice a slight hitch in Haft’s pacing, but he then resumes the proper speed.

Megren asks, “Yeah, want to grab some breakfast?”

Lanisen says, “All right.” He looks down at his practice sword and gets up to return it, unused, to the rack on the wall.

Haft continues his practice, not looking toward the pair.

Megren calls, “Haft, got some time later? I could do with a spar.”

Haft pauses and looks over.  “Yeah, I expect so.  Should be here about an hour.  If I wear myself down enough, you’ll have a pretty good chance, I reckon.”

Lanisen rubs his elbow, glancing between them and smiling faintly at the ribbing.

Megren grins. “Practice hard then, please.”

Haft says, “Or maybe I’ll just sit on a bench for awhile and pretend I’ve just taken a break when you get back.”

Megren says, “That’s what I’ll tell myself happened when you beat me.”

Haft’s lips twitch and he attends to his target again.

Megren gestures toward the door with her head, lifting her brows at Lanisen.

Lanisen trails after her, glancing back at Haft’s practice.


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