Solitary training

LORD RICHARD PARIAH

Striding into the training grounds I look around. I had spent much of my time in the kingdom here, pushing myself, striving to find the perfection of combat as an artform. Both deadly and beautiful.

"It is good to be back" I murmer to myself.

I begin my regime with some sprints, running back and forth along the grounds far faster than the average human. After 1000 runs I stop, and see that my times are poor compared to my personal best. It seems that the years away from the castle has worn on me. So I decide to push myself, running another 2000 sprints til I feel like my legs are falling off, but with each run I am still pushing. Reaching speeds that I had never reached before.

As I mark my times in my book I walk over to the Ageis Machine. One comprimised of randomly spinning bars and chunks of stone designed to improve the users reaction times as the speeds and directions change. If you are not fast enough, you are rewarded with a punishing blow from either a timber ron or the stone chunks. I stay in the machine for 2 hours, with slowely increasing speeds making it more difficult as time goes on. I smile as I clamber down for my reactions are as sharp as they have always been, even if the rest of me is not.

Taking a break I walk over to the table with fresh slices of apple and lemon. Sipping from a glass of ice cold water I turn myself to the trophies mounted on the walls. The sword of Xak; won by the first king of this castle, long forgotten. The Helm of Morgorath; taken from the head of the Maruader orc's greatest cheiften. And over with the newest sets is the platemail of Mozril. An ancient mage who's like had never been seen in this world before. In a moment of longing I reach out to touch the Accursed armor. But then reason wins out in my head, for the armor is cursed. Though it is powerful, any being of any plane of existance other than its true owner, would be cast into an oblivion that morphs to the greatest fears of the victim. I draw my hand away ruefully, knowing I am not the true master of the armor.

Turning away in anger I head across to the combat dummies to unleash some of my frustration on them.

My horse trotting as I made my way from the village to our Kingdom's walls, up the courtyard, and to the Training grounds.
I tied my horse to the stables behind our training grounds. I waltzed around the building hearing the clashing of a blade.
That is when I spotted him in fury, I smirked lightly...very pleased someone is taking advantage of our equipment.

I tilted my head to the side, my eyes following his swings and blows.
I tried to make mental notes of his style, but it has been a while since I've got my nose out of a book and placed my hand to upon my sword.
I leaned against a stone cold wall, "Oi!" I called out in an amplified tone to prevail over the sounds of his blade, "Enjoying yourself My Lord?" I grinned well pleased in his technique. The art of combat always brought such pleasure, something to be well admirable of.

I cease my attack as soon as I hear the voice. Without turning I know who it is. A smile creeps onto my face as the sweat from my exercise evapourates from my body.

"ever the spy my dear Eli arn't you"

Grinning I turn and bow before turning away and starting again.

"Lord Pariah, I know what happens in my kingdom at all hours." I cocked a smirk. "Ubiquitous you might say."
I slowly approached closer my arms folded, an idea struck upon my mind. Why yes, more of a sense of relief? Perhaps a tad bit fun a well..


"Care to spar, my friend?"

Spinning, I release a powerful kick to the training dummies head, causing it to rock back on its support till it nearly touched the floor, before bouncing upright as the inprint of my foot leaves its face.

"A sparring match? why yes that sound like fun" I say, a smirk curling my lips.

I cross over to the racks and take a quick drink, before saying...

"how about first blood? and what weapon would you choose? freestyle? shortswords? glaives? you choose my lady"

His last blow to the dummy made my smile grow with excitement.

" I do hope you know I spar with real blades, none of the wooden bound practice weapons we use." I quickly made my way to my horse that on the side I had my sword tied to. Unhooking the ties I returned with the longsword I have had ever since my return. I picked up combat quickly. Such a fine release.

I smirked, "So this is what I choose. You may choose your preference. Variety is always nice."

Smiling, I walk over to where I had hung my equipment and pulled out my sword; a long, two handed sword with a sharp knife edge on the bottem of the hilt. Imbued with magic it radiates power as I walk across to the sparring ring.

Climbing the platform I pause, then turn and hold my hand out to Eli.

"Let me assist you, m'lady" I say as I smirk.

My bright eyes ever so slowly scanned up his blade. Suspicious of it is all... No fear at all, although I was sure it was magic.

"Assistance?" I scoffed, chucking lightly " Dear Lord Pariah you will soon realize that despite being a woman assistance is one thing I do not require."
I smiled to him trailing behind him. The swords blade lightly resting on my shoulder.

Grinning back at her I say...

"ah but the niceities of being lords and ladies must be observed"

As the last words leave my lips I shed my tunic, revealing the rippling muscle of my chest, covered in scars of previous victories.

"are you ready m'lady?"

Not waiting for a reply, I launch a lightning fast strike at her exposed arm.

I smirked and tied my hair back with a leather strap "Well I still stand my ground with my statement." I nodded as he threw off his tunic and I threw my cloak onto the floor, beneath was a leather tunic, more fitted for my own figured obviously tightened on the bosom. Damned things always got in the way.
But his blow caught me by surprised as I turned back around to face my opponent.

I let out a light growl as I swiftly yanked my arm out of the way quickly dancing around him. I settled my hands around the hilt of my sword and swinging it to return the favor rather to his thigh, all done with a feline's grace.