Learning to Live, Living to Learn

[Il Amator]

Continued from A Plague on Your House (http://www.althanas.com/world/showthread.php?t=13544)
Closed to Teric Bloodrose

The warm air blowing across my face was a welcome change from the frigid battlefield I had just left. As I sat down on the front steps of the Citadel, I kept playing the battle over and over again in my mind. I had fought the Valentine Bleeder and lived to tell the tale. That was no small feat considering he had tried to trap me in the arena to die. Only by V’dralla’s grace had I been saved. V’dralla; even thinking her name made me nervous for I had no idea what she would want in return. All I could do was wait until the day she called me to her service. My life, once full and vibrant, now seemed empty.

I rested my elbows on my knees and stared down the road to Radasanth. Adventurers of all types strode boldly toward the Citadel, eager to prove themselves in battle. I had walked the same road a day earlier, though my outlook had been far bleaker. Pity welled inside me; pity for all those who strode toward battle and who would fall in combat.

The midday sun beat its warmth on the back of my neck, a feeble attempt at soothing my sorrows. I looked out over Radasanth, staring toward its spires and towers in an effort to see my future. All that stared back at me was a clear sky and a bustling city. No answers. Frustrated, I lowered my gaze to the intricate patterns in the cobblestone before me. Perhaps this was the end of the road for me; I had been marked by a god. All that was left was to pay my debt.

Could that really be all there was for me?

My head dropped into my hands, my slender fingers slowly rubbing my temples as I thought on what to do next. I could return to Scara Brae and find Stefania, my most recent lover; or I could spend some time here in Corone and forget her tender embrace. The choice, which would have once been so obvious, seemed hollow to me.

“What is wrong with me?” I angrily asked the cobblestones staring up at me. Shaking my head, I remained motionless, lost in my thoughts.

[Bloodrose]

Amateurs. Teric stepped out onto the sun-warmed cobblestones in front of the Citadel, hoping the fresh air and sunlight would help alleviate the dark mood he had brewing up inside him. Maybe it was too much to ask that every fighter in the Citadel prove at least interesting to duel with, but these days it seemed the Ai'Brone were letting every pig farmer with a stick into their magical arenas. Perhaps it was all well and good for the younglings looking to test their mettle and blood their first weapon, but for veteran soldiers like Teric, the draw of the Citadel was long waning...

I'm sure Godhand will prove more interesting. The mercenary thought expectantly, anticipating the day the Pagoda's keepers would allow the new Master to challenge up and vie for the title of Grandmaster. In truth he hadn't even had time to let that new title settle in yet, Grandmaster, but Teric was less interested in the fancy name and more interested in the caliber of fighters it promised to bring to his doorstep...

No more pig farmers waving around their Daddy's sword. Teric hoped as he lit a cigarette and stood basking in the sunlight with hot smoke billowing from his nostrils...

The woeful grumblings of a young man sitting on the steps, his head in his hands, caught Teric's attention as he stood enjoying his unhealthy vice. From the boy's posture and attitude it was safe to assume he'd just suffered the same humiliating variety of loss that Teric had just recently placed upon another young man. Were in not for the boy's black hair, the mercenary might have even assumed the boy was one and the same with his recent opponent; his opponent had been ginger in coloring though, with freckles the size of a full moon.

"What's the matter, boy?" Teric asked off-handedly, blowing a plume of smoke out of the corner of his mouth. "Not as strong as you thought you were?"

[Il Amator]

A voice spoke behind me and I picked my head up and turned to spot the speaker. He was a sharp-dressed mercenary standing strong and confident, the very picture of victory. A plume of smoke puffed from his lips and I noticed that he seemed to be striking conversation with me just because there was nothing else to do. He was an older gentleman, but he had the air of a fighter around him to be sure.

“I stood no chance,” I told the man, sure that he would merely nod and walk off. Turning back to face the cobblestones before me, I continued in case he was interested. “My last battle was against a worthy adversary, but he tried to trap me in the battlefield after he won,” I shook my head as I thought about it again.

Lifting my head, I clenched my fists angrily. The Valentine Bleeder was not a name I would soon forget.

Turning back around, I saw the black and crimson clad man standing there still. “I am Brammas,” I introduced myself, standing to offer him my hand in greeting. “Sorry to impose my troubles on you.”

[Bloodrose]

No kidding... Teric thought when the boy mentioned that he hadn't stood a chance in his battle. It was a thought he kept very much to himself, not feeling blunt enough today to kick the young man while he was down. Instead Teric nodded sagely, puffing away on his cigarette as the boy mumbled and grumbled something about his arena and stared off into the space in front of him with a dire resolve. The veteran was going to leave it at that, but found himself in for a surprise as the young man stood and turned to offer his hand in greeting.

Brammas, huh? Teric paused for several seconds, not moving to accept the offered hand in front of him. Instead he sized up the young man in front of him, noting for personal reference the size difference between them, their difference in weight, and the way Brammas handled himself. It was practiced routine really; a force of habit, to pick apart anyone he didn't know to find the hidden threats that might lurk beneath. Certainly is a personable fellow.

"Teric." The veteran answered finally, still ignoring the offered hand in favor of fetching the smoldering cigarette from his mouth. He eyed the better half of a full smoke and contemplated it as he reached with his other hand to shake Brammas' hand once, slowly. The cigarette was flicked away carefully, skittering across the flagstone steps as the mercenary devoted his full attention to the friendly young man in front of him. There was something about Brammas, from the way he moved to the forwardness of his greeting, which struck Teric oddly. He found himself for no real discernable reason interested in the young man - even if he was a terrible fighter.

"Tell me, Brammas," Teric eyed the young man interestedly, "why is it that you stood no chance?"

[Il Amator]

Teric. The name had a familiar ring to it, but I was sure that I had never heard it before. Strange that it struck a chord with me. Pushing the feeling aside, I waited to see if the mercenary would return the handshake.

Eventually the older man shook my hand, his strong grip telling me he was far more fit than a man his age should be. I sized him up as he stepped back and asked me why I had lost my Citadel fight. The answer was painful, but I related the tale.

“Have you ever heard of the Valentine Bleeder, sir?” I asked. Not bothering to wait for a reply, I continued. “He’s a mindless brute. Before mercilessly killing me he called my uncle a liar…” My voice trailed off as I thought about the cold way the savage had dismissed my uncle’s dying words.

“I let me emotions get the best of me instead of keeping a level head,” I explained, seeing that Teric was growing weary of my idle ramblings. “I’m sure you’ve never let that happen, right sir?” The seasoned warrior didn’t look like he’d let anything get to him. This was a man I could admire…

[Bloodrose]

I don't really care. Teric thought, masking his disinterest in the young man's answer with a forced half-smile. Valentine Bleeder? Never heard of him. Doesn't matter if he's a mindless brute; the mindless are the easiest to put down. And your uncle?

The boy's rambling answer waltzed around any real answer to the question, but Brammas made his way there eventually. Like a child dancing around the Maypole, he ducked and weaved around the truth until the line was drawn tight and he had no where left to go but into the center; into the real answer for his loss. 'Mindless brutes' like this Valentine Bleeder guy were not Brammas' problem. The young man's uncle (however he fit into this) was not Brammas' problem. No, his real problem was emotion...

After a second's pause, Teric snapped out of his reverie and realized Brammas had asked him a question - in his own roundabout sort of fashion. The veteran thought about his answer for another second, pondering the correct response.

"I wouldn't say it's never happened." Teric revealed, carefully. "I was a bit of a hot-head in my youth as well, kind of like you." The mercenary flashed a disarming smile, silently adding: Except that I was, by the look of you, ten times as strong and much better with a sword. "In my line of work you learn quick though, and the guys who don't learn to control their hearts are the ones that end up dead the quickest."

Almost as soon as he finished speaking, Teric wished he had his cigarette back. I must really be bored to be standing here, talking to a stranger of a kid like this. He though. At least if he had his cigarette, he could have puffed happily away to avoid further conversation - effectively ending the exchange. Now, though...now Brammas had this expectant look on his face like a child looking up to a father figure for guidance...

He's going to ask me to teach him something, I know it. Teric almost sighed, even before Brammas even had time to open his mouth.

[Il Amator]

"I was a bit of a hot-head in my youth as well, kind of like you,” Teric admitted. I felt a strange kinship to the grizzled veteran and I knew that he had many years of experience that could prove valuable in helping me learn how to fight. I didn’t know what his fighting style was, but I was sure he could teach me something.

The mercenary’s face had a resigned look about it; almost as if he knew what was coming. I hesitated a second, allowing my gaze to drop to the cobblestones.

What if he didn’t want to help me? Could his interest in me really extend past casual conversation and into the realm of apprenticeship? Questions raced through my mind and I realized that there was a heavy silence hanging over us. Teric knew what I wanted to ask and hadn’t left outright. Maybe there was hope for me.

I lifted my head to meet his gaze and wondered what had happened to me recently. I had been so carefree before my uncle died. The thought pasted quickly, but left me wondering why my life had taken this course. Was there a reason?

Mentally shaking myself, I finally opened my mouth, “Sir, could you teach me how to be a better fighter?” If I reminded him of himself, maybe he’d agree to show me the ropes. Just maybe.

[Bloodrose]

And there it is. Teric resisted the urge to roll his eyes and snort derisively as the young man finished his question. What do I look like? The veteran found himself thinking. Am I really so approachable these days as to let people believe that I just randomly accept apprentices under my wing?

The old mercenary gave Ghistre a cold, calculating glare as he pondered the question for a moment. He wasn't exactly in a mood to tutor and show the man the ropes, but neither was he in a mood to simply dismiss him and walk away. It was a strange sort of struggle taking place in the warrior actually - a fight between the stronger mercenary side that wanted nothing to do with the situation and the repressed father-figure looking to help...

What could I use him for? The compromise made itself clear to the veteran as he continued to contemplate Ghistre's request. There was no way he was going to try teaching the lad to fight for free - that wasn't how Teric operated. No, if he was going to show the young man some things, then he needed to get his effort worth out of the man in flesh or in coin...

"Well, Ghistre," Teric began, starting down the steps and indicating with a wave that the young man should follow, "I think I've got an idea of how you could help me and how I can help you."

With a devious grin growing beneath the gray whiskers of his beard, Teric set off down the street in the direction of the Suds & Sails, a seedy little tavern on the west end of town. The mercenary's memory had it that there were a few people out that way who owed some people some money. The kind of people who paid men like Teric to throw their weight around and collect in a timely fashion.

I was going to wait and do this over at the week's end. The veteran shrugged mentally to himself. But I guess I can do it now to help out my newfound 'friend'.

[Il Amator]

As Teric started off toward the edge of the city, I hastily ran after him. I was thrilled that he had agreed to take me under his wing; who knew what the seasoned fighter could teach me? However, it seemed that he wanted recompense for his tutoring services. Depending on what he had in mind, I wasn’t entirely sure that this arrangement would work. What if he wanted gold? I had a few pieces to spare, but not very much. I sighed just before slowing my pace to a brisk walk beside, and just behind, the mercenary.

As we headed west through the streets of Radasanth, it became obvious to me that Teric was a man to be feared. Many people recognized him as he strolled through the city; guards, merchants, and citizens alike. The fact that they knew the older man, and knew him well enough to stay out of his way, made me slightly wary. However, the soldiers gave him a sort of cautious respect, telling me that his renown most likely stemmed from military prowess of some sort.

It bothered me that I could not place the man’s name among the various memories floating about in my mind. Teric; the name rang familiar. This would bother me until well after we parted ways.

The grizzled veteran ducked down an alley and I had to stop my reverie in order to keep up. Focusing back on the task at hand, I jogged down the street a bit to follow behind him.

“So where are we headed?” I asked the mercenary as I caught up. I was eager to see how someone like me could help someone like Teric, but part of me was still cautious. The older man seemed not to hear me, his hawklike stare locked on a fading wooden sign yards away.

His lack of response didn’t bother me; I assumed he’d answer soon enough. As I followed the seasoned warrior toward the tavern he ad spotted, I thought again of my battle with Kadarus. Indecision and emotion had led to my downfall; I would not make the same mistake again.

Resolving to learn from that mistake, I put my wonderings aside and followed Teric into the shady tavern.

[Bloodrose]

The Suds & Sails was just another of a dozen tavern's in Radasanth with similar names. The Sudsy Sea Tavern, the Sailing Suds, the Sudsy Sails...you get the idea. Most of them were little more than rotting holes where the cockroaches of the Dockside scurried to during the daylight hours, and the Suds & Sails was no exception...

The smell was the first thing to hit Teric when he strode through the door - that grimy, salty smell of those who bathed only so regularly as the waves crashed over the deck of a ship and soaked them in brine. Not a pleasant aroma, to say the least, and Teric didn't bother to hide his disdain behind a stoic face. Instead he scrunched up his face as he stepped deeper into the cockroach nest, and took careful care not to open his mouth more than he had to.

If the air smells this bad, I can only imagine it tastes worse...

The comforting sound of Brammas' footsteps right behind him gave the mercenary cause to smile as the first couple of bilge rats started to take notice of his presence. Well dressed men such as himself didn't just waltz into places like these without just cause, and the likelihood that most of the patrons assembled here had one bounty or another hanging overhead just made them all the more suspicious of strangers. Prime circumstances for a fight to break out, especially when Teric broke the falling, uncomfortable silence with a bold and straightforward call.

"Sygat Frepp and Dominic Kemp." The veteran seemingly addressed nobody in particular at first, but quickly noted the knowing glance two shifty looking characters standing in the back gave him when he used their colorful, surely mother-given, names. "A friend of mine tells me you two owe him a fair sum of money. Fair enough that he's like to collect on the debt as soon as possible."

"You tell your friend that he can look for him money where it belongs, up his arse!" Came the response, but Teric couldn't have told you which one it was who replied. Frepp or Kemp, either or, not that it really mattered. Jibes about arses, mothers, ancestry, and creed were all too common in situations such as this one, so the veteran wasn't exactly intimidated or impressed by the duo's creativity.

"Now, I don't think my friend would be very happy to hear that." Teric shook his head in a mock display of weary resignation. He even shrugged and rubbed his hands together thoughtfully as if contemplating something difficult. "In fact, my friend told me that if I couldn't collect in coin, then I'd have to collect in flesh..."

Funny, the mercenary thought, almost with a smile, I just used that same parallel with Brammas here...

The not-so-veiled threat didn't go over well with the two sailors, not that Teric had anticipated it going otherwise. Seafarers were a lot notorious for their quick tempers and willingness to get in a fight at a moment's notice, so Teric was further unimpressed by the creativity showed by the duo when both pulled small knives from their belts - the kind of knives commonly found on ships for cutting sail lines. Crude, lightweight, but dangerously sharp...

Teric took a quick step back and gave Brammas a big, knowing wink as the two sailors advanced from the back of the room. They were confident, but their long and wobbly strides betrayed the fact that they'd been drinking probably since early morning. Ghistre should be fine against slobs like these. The veteran though, surely. And I'm here to save his ass if he can't handle them...

"Lesson number 1," Teric quipped, "practice makes perfect!" With that said, the veteran gave Brammas a gentle nudge towards the advancing sailors. Nevermind that a gentle nudge from the likes of Teric Bloodrose was like a solid shove from just about anyone else, but Teric took care not to knock the young man over or send him barreling into the knife-wielding thugs.

[Il Amator]

I stumbled into the path of the advancing sailors and hastily drew my rapier and dagger. The bigger of the two smiled when he saw that he wouldn’t be facing Teric and lunged forward. Planting my foot and cursing the grizzled veteran waiting behind me, I brought me own dagger forward to intercept his attack. He brought his full weight into the thrust though and forced the blades dangerously close to my body. Struggling against the resistance, I pushed back as the second man closed in.

The next dagger slashed through the air toward my unprotected right side and I brought my rapier around to bear. Not meant to be a defensive weapon, I struggled to block the sharp blade and pushed against the smaller man’s weight. My muscles burned as I tried to force them both away from me at the same time. As they grimaced with the effort, I could tell I was starting to slip. Not a good idea.

Heaving against my dagger, I forced the bigger man back a few inches before stepping back and twisting out of the way. His momentum worked against him as he hurtled past me and crashed to the floor. Bringing my dagger around below my rapier, I caught the next man’s blade with both arms.

Planting my feet and bending slightly, I threw my arms straight out and forced the brute’s blade up into the air. Spiraling my rapier out of the air and under his guard, I thrust forward toward his side. As my thin blade slid between his ribs, I was rewarded as his eyes widened in shock and pain. No amount of alcohol could protect him from that pain.

I kicked out at the man, pushing him from the end of my sword before I spun around to face the first attacker. He has moved faster than I anticipated and his small blade slashed across my bicep. Grunting more in anger than pain, I reversed the grip on my own dagger and lashed out with the handle. The leather-wrapped steel struck the man in the chin, sending him reeling to the left. My rapier followed closely behind, turning at the last second the strike him across the rump with the flat of the blade.

He shouted as the whip-like blade snapped across his ass and spun around faster than he should have. The change in direction coupled with his inebriated state caused him to tumble sideways into a nearby table. The mugs launched off the table, crashing onto the man’s head. His tongue lolled out of his mouth as he fell unconscious.

I exhaled sharply before sheathing my blades and turning on my so-called mentor, my emotions finally hitting me like a falling tree. “What were you thinking?” I asked, on the verge of rage but not boiling over just yet.

“You realize that they could have killed me, right?” Teric just stood there with a smug look on his face. I sighed as I walked over to him. “Well?”

[Bloodrose]

"Calm down, boy." Teric addressed Brammas lightly, a half smile on his face. "I would have stepped in if I thought you couldn't handle yourself. Besides, that they 'could have' killed you is a given in a fight. Hell, if we want to start talking in 'could haves', then I could have died a thousand times in my life by now..."

Teric shook his head, pondering the foolishness of youth, as he calmly walked around Brammas and to the unconscious sailor splayed amongst the wreckage of the table he'd been put through. He picked over the man's grubby clothing methodically, checking the pockets and patting down shirt and pants alike for hidden folds. When he came up empty, Teric snorted in disappointment and moved on to the sailor Ghistre had wounded with his blade.

The atmosphere in the tavern had grown deathly silent as patrons and staff alike watched, cautiously, as Teric turned the bleeding man onto his back. The man groaned in agony, his pain carrying and lingering on the quiet air like that a pall that blanched the faces and turned the stomachs of most present. The veteran seemed non-phased, patting down pockets and clothing in similar fashion to the man before until he found what he was looking for.

"Ah-ha!" Teric exclaimed happily as he fished a tightly drawn bag of coins from the man's right pants pocket. It wasn't much - not nearly enough to cover the amount of the debt owed - but something was better than nothing. "I'll expect gentlemen, that you'll remember this the next time you and my friend decide to do business - assuming of course he ever decided to do business with the likes of you again."

The mercenary turned back to Brammas, the coin purse jingling in his hands as he tossed it back and forth, from left to right and back again, carelessly. The boy seemed a little pale, and there was a slightly tremble in his stance. Adrenaline could do that to a man when it waned, and Teric wouldn't have been the least bit surprised if Ghistre felt lightheaded and weak as well.

"You were a little sloppy in your form." The veteran commented. "I expect you weren't expecting to get thrown into the mix like that, and it showed. You did, however, recover nicely. You had some good tricks too, like when you reversed to use the hilt of your dagger instead of the blade. A little showy, an unnecessary since you could have just stabbed the man and gotten away with it, but nice all the same."

The veteran contemplated the fight for a couple seconds more, paying little attention to the flustered disbelief apparent all over Brammas' face. "You seem to fight pretty well actually, for someone your age. I think the skill is there, if maybe not your confidence."

[Il Amator]

Teric merely shrugged off my concern and proceeded to search the bodies of the drunken sailors for gold. At first I was taken aback by his callused attitude, but then a thought occurred to me; maybe he was trying to teach me something else here. I smiled when I realized that must be what was happening. This old mercenary was clever!

I saw that he had found what he was searching for and he returned to where I stood. After giving me some pointers about my fight, he ended with a compliment on my skill. The fact that such a seasoned warrior could be even mildly impressed with me made my head spin. Or perhaps that was the fight’s energy finally leaving my body. Whatever it was, it left me more than a little woozy.

Determined not to show signs of weakness in front of my mentor, I inhaled sharply and then sighed as I willed my body to listen to me. As the world around me slowly came back into full focus, I realized that Teric had once again taken to staring across the room toward something or other that had caught his fancy. The man had attention problems.

“Teric,” I tried to get his attention before continuing. “Where are we off to next?” The mercenary shrugged noncommittally and kept his fierce eyes scanning the patrons of the seedy tavern. As tough as they all acted, each one kept their distance from the man; dropping their gazes to the floor when they saw him staring at them.

Again I found myself wondering what sort of power this man truly held, but I knew better than to ask. Teric was sure to give me the runaround; I’d figure it out eventually.

“Well,” I stated to no one in particular. “Maybe we should deliver the money?” Teric’s eyes swept toward me, though I could tell that I hardly had his full attention. “Where’s this friend of yours?”

Giving the tavern one last glance, he turned and boldly strode out the door. Scrambling to follow, I pushed through the door and out onto the street, eager for whatever the grizzled veteran had in store.

[Bloodrose]

The good old fashioned stare down Teric gave the remaining patrons of the Suds & Sails was a time-honored tactic debt collectors and bounty hunters used to tell questionable bystanders who was boss. In a seedy tavern full of sailors, guys who had nothing to do with the situation might step in to get involved just to stop someone like themselves from getting pushed around. It was a familial type of reaction between people who could relate to one another, and whether or not Brammas realized it, that fierce eyeballing Teric cast around the room probably kept a few troublemakers in their chairs.

Surprising that no one's tried anything yet, really. Teric contemplated. Usually the trouble arose when you went for the purse, as people preferred to stay out of the situation until someone was about to get ripped off. A beating they could watch and keep quiet about, but when money got involved...

"Let's go." Teric muttered under his breath as he swept out of the tavern and back out into the street. Brammas may or may not have heard him, but the young man's scrambling footsteps behind him told the mercenary that his apprentice wasn't keen on falling to far behind. Got the money, got out the door... The veteran's mind was running down a tried and true checklist, checking the current situation with a hundred like it before. It was a habit you picked up as you got older; comparing everything you did with things you'd done previous. Time was an excellent teacher, and lessons of bygone days told Teric that he and Brammas would only have to make it around the corner to be completely free of the situation in the tavern...

"Hey! Old man!" A gruff voice called out from behind the duo in that 'Yeah, I'm talking to you!' tone. The mercenary froze in his tracks, shaking his head slightly and biting his lower lip as he held back a spat of curses. So close...

Teric turned around to confront a half dozen seafarers in odd assortments of clothing and armed with an equally assorted array of weaponry. Between the shirt's ripped off at the shoulders, grizzled unshaven stubble, and bandanas he could make out a couple knives, a chair leg, a broken bottle, and a couple proper scimitars. A scruffy looking bunch to be sure, and while not overtly intimidating, Teric had hoped to get away without getting his hands dirty.

To many to expect Brammas to handle. The veteran cast a sideways glance at the young man, who having also turned to survey their newly arrayed opponents, seemed to be giving him a look that screamed 'I can't fight them all.

"I have no trouble with any of you." Teric replied just as gruffly as he was addressed, stepping forward to place himself between Ghistre and the sailor crowd. "I've only taken what's owed to my friend, so why don't you all just go back inside and enjoy your afternoons."

"I'm afraid we can't do that." The burliest of the half-dozen stepped to the fore and replied; it was typical that the biggest tended to be the boss. "Me and some o'my mates here don't think it's right what you done to Sygat and his pal. We're thinking you're in need of a lesson."

"How brotherly and chummy of you," Teric noted dryly, taking another step towards the sailors, "to get involved on your shipmate's behalf." Another step, and this time the sailors began advancing as well. There were a couple questioning faces, a few glances back towards the tavern door, but the crowd seemed to be following their appointed leaders lead - and he seemed intent on backing up his word. "I'm afraid a lesson will be unnecessary, though. I doubt I stand to gain anything learning from the likes of you..." Teric didn't even bother to hide that barbed edge to his words, goading the sailor spokesman further.

"Oh, I dunno 'bout that." The burly sailor smiled dangerously, puffing his chest and crossing his arms threateningly. A very impressive show of size and supposed strength, had he been trying to bully around another sailor, but Teric wasn't buying any of the show. He was advancing towards the sailors, quicker now, one step after the other instead of one at a time. The gap between the veteran and the group, a short distance by any measure to begin with, closed rapidly...

"Last chance." Teric offered, even while thinking: Watch carefully young Brammas.

Had they known beforehand just what kind of a fighting they were stirring up trouble with, Teric doubted that any of the six sailors would have pressed the issue. Had they known that Teric's fists struck like his bones were made of Damascus, that his strength could lift a grown man off his feet with ease, and that he moved faster than most men could imagine possible, all of them would have likely retired back to their tables and their grog. Unfortunately for them, however, they were about to learn all of those lessons the hard way...

One punch apiece was all it took to drop the first two sailors where they stood, and the burly leader fell to a roundhouse kick almost before the other three could realize that Teric was on them. It’s funny how no one thinks about how fast they are moving until they have something to compare themselves too, and to the attacking mercenary the six sailors moved as if the air were the consistency of molasses. They tried to react normally, raising their fists and arms to defend themselves as they joined the fight, but too often they couldn't cover up in time to save themselves a vicious knock to the head. By the time the fifth sailor was crashing to the ground in a heap, the last of them had the good sense to take a swipe at Teric with his sword. A simple sidestep, executed with practiced precision, and then Teric had the man by the arm, pulling it around behind the man to twist his wrist and force an agonized cry from the sailor as his weapon fell harmlessly away.

"I told you." The veteran quipped pointlessly, kicking the sailor in the back of the leg to drop him to his knees. The arm Teric released, only to raise his own hand and bring it down in a strong backhand slap from behind. The sailor's head bounced to the right as he took the blow, his neck going rubbery under the force.

In all of a handful of seconds the sailors found themselves unconscious and prone in the street, a couple of them twitching spasmodically as Teric walked back over to Brammas and indicated that the two of them should continue on.

[Il Amator]

No one should be able to move that fast. And by the time I finished that thought, the fight was practically over. Teric had moved like death among the sailors, incapacitating them where they stood and dealing justice swiftly. Every move he made dealt damage in some way, no action was wasted. I could only stand in awe as he walked away from the hurting thugs and motioned for me to follow. I was the apprentice of a god.

As I turned to follow him, I noticed he had hardly even broken a sweat. Even his breathing was normal. Combined with the strength and speed he had displayed, I knew my previous assumption had been correct. The reason that people knew and feared Teric had to be connected to his fighting; I had no idea how, but the connection was there.

Once again my mentor was several steps ahead and I had to break into a light jog to catch up. Behind us I heard the tavern door slam open as the patrons seemed to think it was once again safe to come outside. The phantom had passed.

“Where are we headed now?” I inquired when I was once again walking beside the veteran fighter. And once again I received no answer save for a cursory sidelong glance. I was beginning to get the picture though; follow, don’t ask questions, and be prepared for anything.

This was going to be interesting.

[Bloodrose]

Teric had expected Brammas to look impressed, but the light in the young man's eye and the awed expression on his face betrayed something else. There were equal parts wonder and admiration in Brammas' gaze, things the older warrior wasn't used to having cast in his direction. It actually made him feel a little strange, really, to have a young man looking at him like that. The Goddess forbid someone like Brammas adopt me as a role model. The veteran almost shivered as a cold chill ran down his spine. Adopt me as anything, for that matter...

Wordlessly the pair set off down the streets of Radasanth once more, Brammas continuing to follow off to one side and just a step behind. Despite having given the boy little reason to continue following him (and a couple of reasons not to), Brammas seemed determined to keep tagging along, another thing just adding to the growing sense of dread in Teric's gut. I'm no teacher. The old mercenary was thinking, chewing on his lower lip as they weaved up one street and down another, always heading in a roughly south and west direction. And what am I doing, anyways?

That last question lingered in Teric's head all the way to their destination. What was he doing? It felt so out of character to be leading a (for all intensive purposes) complete stranger around the city on his usual hired-thug errands. He was a man seldom used to working with anyone, let alone someone he didn't share a bond with, so why was he allowing Brammas to follow along on his coattails?

The Bull and Anvil, a tavern marked by a sign depicting exactly that, came up on the right-hand side of the street, and Teric casually made his way inside. Unlike the Suds, this was a respectable sort of place, complete with a wide assortment of spirits and a staff of barmaids who still had all their teeth. It was cleaner, smelled heavily of the cloves and mint they tossed in the fire, and was home to a friendly patronage that didn't all stop talking to see who'd come in every time the door opened.

"Wait there." Teric indicated a seat at the bar as he and Brammas walked passed it towards a door into the back. The only indication in the whole place that shady dealings went on here was the black-hooded man sitting by the door reading a book. A fairly inauspicious guard, but the daggers at his belt spelt out all that they needed to. "And I mean it." The veteran added. He liked Brammas and all, for the most part, but the young man wasn't trustworthy enough to be taking into backroom sessions just yet. Beating up thugs, sure. Meeting my employers, no. The mercenary thought, as he walked unchecked past the guard. Not even so much as a nod, because everyone here knew who Teric was...

[Il Amator]

Teric ordered me to take a seat at the bar and the look on his face told me his orders were not to be questioned. Nodding my acceptance, I hopped atop the nearest stool and leaned on the counter. Three heavyset men were laughing next to me and the barmaid was busy with a gentleman on my other side. An odd smell wafted through the air, tickling my nostrils with its strange sensation. I couldn’t place exactly what it was, but it certainly was pleasant enough. Better than the Suds & Sails.

The counter was made from a dark wood and my fingers idly traced a knot in front of me as I scanned the bottles lining the shelves. I recognized a few of the spirits held within, but many were foreign to me. Not surprising, considering my mug was usually filled with only dark ale.

As I waited for the barmaid to finish tending the other men, I listened idly to the conversation going on beside me. One man was boasting to the others about his nimble hands and lightness of foot. Judging the man’s size, I figured his tales were likely just stories. He was a hulking brute; easily a head taller than even Teric and possibly twice my weight. His powerful arms were corded with muscle and his massive hands pounded the counter forcefully any time someone made a joke. This was no agile man.

As the minutes stretched on, I wondered what Teric could be doing in the back room of the tavern. I had little experience with the inner workings of such places, I typically remained at the counter entrancing the ladies. A smile crept onto my face as I remembered Stefania waiting for me at the inn near the Windlacer Mountains in Scara Brae. The voluptuous woman likely had moved on already, but that meant nothing to me. She would be mine easily enough when I returned.

Enough of my confidence had returned that I was beginning to feel mischievous. As the man beside me challenged his friends to attempt to pilfer something from him, I deftly twisted my fingers to ignite my glamour magic. Weaving the spell around the man’s mug and the air before me, I crafted the illusion that his drink now rested in my hands. It wasn’t long before one of his friends noticed and began chuckling. Turning to see what so amused his partner, the brute’s eyebrows narrowed in anger as he saw what he thought was his drink in my hands.

“Whadda ya think yer doing, kid?” the man snarled, turning around in his chair to face me directly. His scar-ridden face gave me a start, but I quickly retorted with a barb.

“You’re so nimble are you?” I jeered. “Can’t even hold on to your drink?” His friends howled with laughter, but his visage only became more hostile.

“Why you little-” the man swore as he lunged forward and grabbed me by the collar of my silk shirt. He was going to ruin the fabric, holding it like that.

As he pulled back a meaty fist and aimed for my face, I realized the foolishness of my last thought. Here I was about to be clobbered and all I could think about was my appearance. Some things never change.

With a grunt, the man launched a punch at me that caught me square in the nose. I heard a snap and I was sure he had broken it. My head whipped back from the impact as blood gushed from the wound; my cockiness fleeing along with it.

My survival instincts kicked in as some of the closer patrons began turning to see what the commotion was about. The man grabbed me with both hands and roared as he turned toward away from the counter. I flew through the air to crash into a table not to far away, the sharp splinters of wood slicing at my back as I fell. Angry now, I scrambled to my feet and drew my blades.

“Be a man and fight me wit yer fists,” he spit as he faced off against me once again. There was no chance of that though; even with my rapier and dagger I was terribly outmatched.

My nose throbbed, but it seemed the bleeding had stopped; however, the pain dulled in comparison to that of being thrown into a table. Taking up a defensive stance, I vowed to inflict at least some damage on my adversary before he mopped the floor with me. I could at least die with my dignity.

The man lunged forward, fists flying toward me intent on their punishment. My rapier swung about, heading to slice the tendons in his wrist as he charged forward. At the last second, the man twisted away and dropped his shoulder into my gut. We both fell to the floor, his weight crushing my ribs as he landed on top of me. My blades fell from my grasp, clattering to the ground beyond my reach. As he pushed himself to his knees, arm cocked back for another blow, I prayed that my death would be quick and painless.

Visions of the Valentine Bleeder flashed through my mind as the massive fist hurled through the air. I was going to meet death a second time in one day.

[Bloodrose]

"So they were less than cooperative?" The mustachioed man behind the desk said casually, a hazy cloud of cigarette smoke lingering around him. His fine suit was pressed and smooth, his tie of the finest Sifan dyed a blue similar to the piercing eyes that saw everything through the haze...

"If you want to put it that way." Teric replied as he casually browsed through a shelf of books on the left wall of the room. Two guards, hands behind their backs and legs set in wide stances, watched the old mercenary carefully. They never moved, those two brutes, not even to turn their head. Bald, dressed in black slacks and matching shirts, the two of them could have been long lost twins for all Teric knew. "What I gave you is what they had, and I doubt they'll be looking for another loan."

"You didn't kill them, I hope." The shadowy man had a mockingly hurt look in his eyes. "I'd still like to collect the rest of my money...eventually."

"They're alive." Teric confirmed, stepping away from the bookshelf. "I actua..."

A crashing noise accompanied by shouts of "fight!" attracted the attention of everyone in the room, cutting the veteran off in mid-sentence. The two guards in the room didn't move, but their eyes darted to the door expectantly, waiting for trouble.

"Tavern brawl." The mustachioed man sighed. "Go take care of it, will you? I just had to replace three tables and a half dozen chairs from the last fight."

Teric nodded and stepped quickly to the door. Pulling it open, he noticed almost immediately that the hooded guard normally sitting there was gone. Instead the man had his arm locked at the elbows with another man, holding the bigger man's arm back and preventing him from throwing a downward punch. "That's enough." Everyone in the tavern could hear the man say, and no one seemed in a mood to argue otherwise...

Brammas, you idiot! Teric started as soon as he saw who was pinned beneath the larger man. The poor bastard's nose was obviously broken, and his weapons were on the floor away from him. You sod-ridden whelp! The mercenary's frustration and anger was clearly visible in his face as he strode over to where the two fighters were. The hooded man pulled the larger brute up off Brammas and led him back to the bar, and Ghistre was almost up on his own before Teric seized him by the collar and dragged him towards the door.

"Teric...hey!" Brammas seemed surprised, maybe even a little confused as Teric wrenched him to the door and then dragged him into the street. Once outside, after someone kindly shut the door behind them, Teric unceremoniously dumped his young companion onto his back in the street and stood over him with an accusatory finger in his face.

"What in the name of Salvar just happened in there?" Teric demanded to know, his pointing finger shifting from Brammas to the door as he spoke. "I ask you to sit at the bar while I do my business, and you end up in a fight? What were you thinking?"

[Il Amator]

“I never meant for it to happen,” I tried to reassure Teric as he raged on about my fighting. What had started out as a simple joke had quickly escalated into a full-on bar brawl. I was just lucky that Teric had entered the room when he had. Otherwise, I might not be lying here on my back able to defend myself. I’d be dead.

The thought of dying somewhere outside the Citadel held very real consequences. In this tavern there were no Ai’Bron monks to bring me back to life instantly. If the brute inside had mashed my face into a pulp, that would have been the end. I swallowed the lump in my throat and counted my lucky stars that I was alive. Then a nagging in the back of my mind told me it had nothing to do with luck. V’dralla.

Groaning as the pain finally began to sink in; I rested my head back on the street. My head throbbed in agony as Teric continued to rant about my idiocy. How could I do something so stupid, why couldn’t I follow a simple order; eventually his voice turned to white noise and I let my mind drift to escape it all.

My blades. The thought shot through my head like a bolt and I sat up as quickly as I could. That turned out to be a mistake as the world began spinning and my chest heaved. Rolling over, I vomited into the gutter beside the road. Feeling slightly better, I turned back to Teric and interrupted his ranting. “My blades,” I groaned, hoping he understood. That rapier and dagger had been a final gift from my dying uncle and I cherished them beyond most of my other possessions. The excellent craftsmanship spoke to me of my relationship with my uncle. Losing them would be like losing a part of myself.

Focusing on Teric’s response, I ignored the pain all over me and listened intently.

[Bloodrose]

His blades? Teric glared at the physically ill Brammas questioningly, before realizing through his anger that the boy was missing his weapons. Rookie mistake, to lose your weapons, but Teric wasn't in the mood to berate the young man any more than he had. A broken nose, a belly in turmoil, and a good tongue-lashing seemed to be lesson enough.

"Sit here." Teric reassured the young man, turning and striding briskly back into the tavern. He found the young man's blades soon enough - the rapier hanging from a smiling idiot's belt and the dagger stuck in the bar in front of him. The man kept smiling, obviously enjoying his newfound prizes right up to the moment when Teric bounced his head off the bar like a ripe melon and collected Brammas things from his groaning body.

"Don't take things that don't belong to you." The old mercenary chimed in an obvliviously hipocritical fashion. Teric had taken plenty of things that didn't belong to him in his time, and really the only time he despised theft was when said thefts affected himself or people he was with.

The bar was fairly quiet behind him as Teric stalked back out into the street and stood looming over Brammas. Blood was caked in dry rivulets down his chin, with big red globs of the congealing mess massed around his nostrils. The man looked much worse for wear than he actually was, and aside from a crooked nose he would be fine.

"Here." The veteran tossed the young man his dagger but held on to the rapier a moment longer, gripping it lightly and giving it a few practice swings. The blade hummed through the air in the experienced warrior's hands, spinning and dancing through the air in dangerous arcs. "Do you actually know how to use this thing?" Teric inquired, flipping the blade around to hand the rapier to Brammas hilt first. "Or do you just carry it around for show?"

[Il Amator]

After Teric retrieved my weapons from within the tavern, he returned to the street and gave them back to me. I still hadn’t tried to stand since he left and so he towered over me. It felt good to have the familiar grips back beneath my fingers, even if they hadn’t been missing for very long at all.

“I got some basic training,” I told Teric when he asked about my skill with the blade, “but nothing besides that.” I wondered if he knew how to use such a sword, but decided it might be too soon to ask. “I get by,” I added before sheathing the rapier and dagger and sighing.

I planted my hands on either side of my body, readying the weary muscles to push me into a standing position. As I rose from the stone street, the world began wobbling and I was forced to close my eyes. I hoped that the brute’s fist hadn’t done lasting damage. Shaking my head to clear it, I rolled over onto my knees and stood the rest of the way up. Such a small accomplishment, but I felt better.

Wiping at my nose with my sleeve, I realized that the blood had dried and would be much more difficult to clean. Blowing air through my tender nose to clear my nostrils, I stretched my back and looked over at Teric. The mercenary’s eyes still bore into me, but with less rage than they had before. I couldn’t tell if he truly cared for my well-being, or if he was just upset that I had disgraced myself when I was in his presence; he was a difficult man to read.

I still felt like I had just been hit by a dragon, but at least I could walk. “So,” I said to Teric, finally summoning the courage to ask a favor, “can you teach me how to fight with a rapier?” I deftly unsheathed the beautiful blade, glancing down the length before tossing it lightly into the air. I caught it just below the guard and handed it, point down, to the grizzled fighter. Hopefully he’d help me learn a thing or two about fighting. And since the pain all over my body didn’t seem like it was lessening any time soon, I had a fresh reminder that I needed all the help I could get.

[Bloodrose]

There it is. Teric didn't even move to accept the blade offered back to him as Brammas asked for a lesson in swordplay. It had taken the young man a little longer to ask than the mercenary had anticipated, but a realization of need had likely bolstered Brammas' courage. Getting your backside handed to you in a tavern brawl will do that to a man, and the loser often comes to the conclusion that they need a little practice.

"The question isn't so much can I teach you," Teric replied coolly, folding his arms across his chest, "but will I teach you." The offered rapier was still lingering between the two men, and it seemed Brammas was eager to hand it over. Halting a sigh, Teric open one side of his coat to reveal the exceedingly strong and exceedingly expensive fencing sword dangling from his belt. He didn't had a sheath for the weapon, which left the white metal of the Mythril blade visible, and the intricate Prevalida work of the basket hilt was stunning. All-in-all it was a much fancier weapon than a martial, utilitarian fighter like Teric needed, but he never hesitated to show it off.

"Lesson number 1, and this one is free," Teric continued, "lose that fancy tossing crap. Letting go of your weapon for showy displays is the easiest way to lose it. Your blade is an extension of your arm, and you wouldn't go throwing a piece of your arm around, now would you?"

The old veteran paused to see if Brammas would answer what was essentially a rhetorical question. He hoped the boy would be smart enough not to answer, but he was reserved in his hopes. It was apparent that Ghistre had practiced unsheathing and trying to look intimidating with the blade, but Teric really didn't how well the young man could handle his weapons. A simple scuffle with drunken sailors didn't count as a show of skill, so the mercenary was going to need more to go on in order to shape the lump of iron known as Brammas Ghistre into a finely crafted weapon...

"I want you to attack me." The mercenary stated simply, without reaching for his own weapon.

[Il Amator]

After essentially telling me to stop trying to show off, Teric told me to attack him. I furrowed my eyebrows in confusion at first, but then shook my head slightly to regain my composure. No sense in making the warrior think I didn’t understand his order. Sliding my hand up to grasp the hilt in a reverse grip, I spun the blade across my fingers so that I was holding it correctly. Now, just how to go about attacking the veteran fighter…

He hadn’t reached for his weapon yet, but judging from the fight earlier between Teric and several sailors, I knew the old man could move surprisingly fast. I had no hope of catching him off guard. That realization made me understand just what was going on here; he simply wanted something else to ridicule me for.

I sighed again, knowing that the experienced man likely had little patience for my idle thoughts. Several awkward moments had passed since he had told me to attack him, and yet I still had not moved. Teric would like me a simpleton if I didn’t act.

Planting my right foot, I leaned forward slightly; bringing the rapier’s point up into the air defensively. Though since I was the one on the offensive, I continued past the stance and brought the tip of the blade up to my right. With a quick lunge, I slashed down toward Teric’s shoulder, hoping to catch him before he could parry with his own weapon.

As if there were a chance that would happen.

[Bloodrose]

Maybe he knows a little more than I give him credit for? Teric pondered as Brammas finally made his move. The veteran had been getting ready to berate the boy for standing around so long, but the young warrior made a surprisingly deft attack. Whether it was by luck, accident, or the pure happenstance of their proximity to each other, Brammas came at the mercenary with a downward slash that just happened to be aimed at the most unprotected spot on Teric's body. Normally the buckler he carried on his left arm would have easily deflected the blow, but the buckler wasn't something Teric carried around with him on the streets...

The veteran reacted carefully, leaping backwards and just out of range of Brammas' swing. The young man's blade hummed through the air as it passed through the place where Teric had been standing not a moment before. Decent form, not to sloppy. The mercenary commented silently on Brammas' technique, trying to keep in mind that the boy had none of the speed and experience he himself possessed. It would have been exceedingly easy to dispatch Brammas at no risk of injury to his own person, but Teric couldn't help but think that humiliating the boy wouldn't do any good.

"A nice attempt." Teric replied. "You attacked my weak side, angled your attack to make it more difficult to parry, and didn't try anything overly fancy. All fundamentally correct things to do."

Now let's see your reaction time and how well you handle yourself defensively...

Without warning Teric reached to his hip and lunged forward. To Brammas it would undoubtedly seem that he was moving remarkably fast, but the truth was that the veteran held back a good portion of his potential. He wanted Brammas to defend himself ably, but he also wanted to take the young man by surprise.

Teric's blade was a white streak as he attacked from the hip, swinging in low but aiming high to catch Brammas in the hip with a swing that was almost the exact opposite of his own...

[Il Amator]

Teric’s beautiful blade flew from its place at his belt as if pulled by magic. With my rapier already low from my attack, I knew I could get the blade around in time to block his attack. However, that wasn’t what worried me. Just how powerful was the old mercenary? Would my strength be enough of a match to his own? The answers worried me and so my free hand fumbled at my belt for my main gauche.

Both blades streaked through the air to meet the warrior’s sword in a tremendous clash of metal. My rapier caught his blade several inches from the tip while the dagger held strong near the guard. My back twisted and my legs strained as the force of his blow pushed against me. Luckily, the white blade came to a halt just before slicing into me and I nearly breathed a sigh of relief.

The old man could certainly move; any faster and I wouldn’t have had time to block his attack. My breathing quickened along with my heartbeat as my mind fully entered battle mode. Sparring with the mercenary would be informative, but deadly. Now that I knew what Teric was up to, however, I felt that I should at least try to push myself. Even if it did result in injury, it would be worth it.

Resolved to make this a fight to remember, I employed one of the only tricks I knew. Keeping pressure on his sword with my dagger, I pulled my rapier back a few inches. Then, with as much strength as I could muster, I beat his blade with my own, driving it away from me. The force of the hit gave me enough momentum to quickly swing my blades around and into a defensive stance. A quick step back indicated that the next move was Teric’s. I had to be ready.

[Bloodrose]

It took more of Teric's concentration than he had imagined containing the strength and speed that came so easily to him these days. How easy it would have been for him to swat Brammas' weapons away like angry flies, or to utilize his speed to never give Ghistre a chance to react. In a real fight Brammas would have never been able to just push away Teric's blades as he did to open up room between them and take a defensive stance...

Teric went from standing in from of Brammas to standing next to him in the blink of an eye. His newly practiced 'quickstep' was like a gust of wind blowing down the street as the veteran almost instantaneously shifted positions. There was the scrapping sound of dirt beneath his boots as he skid to a halt next to Ghistre, and flicking his blade up expertly, Teric rested the cold metal of his blade against Brammas' neck.

"Not an impressive fighter, by any means," Teric commented casually, "but you aren't a half-witted slouch, either." Brammas was tensed, and the mercenary could only imagine the boy's surprise at how quickly Teric had 'finished' their little sparring session. "To be honest, I don't think there is much about sword play I can teach you - nothing that won't come with practice anyways." The veteran took his blade away from Brammas' neck and squared himself to face the young man. "I think your problem is that you are cocky going into a fight, but then lose all of your confidence as soon as one is underway."

"What is it you want from me, Ghistre?" The old mercenary added. "Because I can't do much to bolster your self-confidence."

[Il Amator]

As soon as I saw the look in Teric’s eyes, I knew that I had vastly underestimated the old man. I had seen the mercenary move quickly when he had taken down the sailors earlier, but that was nothing. It seemed he… teleported and suddenly he was beside me with his masterful blade at my throat. The battle was like that.

Had it not been for his blade, my jaw would have dropped. It seemed there was more to Teric than first met the eye; much more. He dropped his blade and faced me, his expression deadly serious for the first time. No more tricks, no more jokes; just straight shooting.

What did I want? How could I answer that question? I wanted him to pick up where my uncle had left off. I wanted him to teach me everything he knew. I wanted him to mold me into someone formidable, someone people feared like they feared this old soldier. Words escaped me once again as I looked into his steely blue eyes. How could I tell him exactly what I wanted when I didn’t even know myself…

“I want to be…” I started, knowing this was likely the last thing the grizzled mercenary wanted to hear, “like you, sir.” What was that look in those azure orbs? Shock? Anger? Sadness? I could not tell, but I dropped my gaze to avoid it just the same. “The way you handle yourself, the way you move; if I had that kind of skill I wouldn’t be so unsure of myself.” All my masks were stripped away for a moment and I truly let my guard down for the first time since my uncle died. Putting myself in such a position before the jaded old man could only lead to turmoil, but I didn’t care.

The Bleeder hadn’t only killed me physically that morning; I felt that he had somehow crushed my spirit as well. Running all over Radasanth with Teric had…

Then it struck me; Teric was curt and polite, but he lacked a certain joie de vivre that I had once possessed. Running all over Radasanth with him had showed me what would lay ahead should I choose the path that he had taken. Bolstered by this realization, I lifted my eyes to once more face a man who only this morning had been a complete stranger.

“What do I want, Teric? I think you may have already given it to me.” I offered my hand again, to thank him for the time he had given me. “Thank you.”

[Bloodrose]

You don't want to be like me, boy. Teric wanted to yell at Brammas, turn him off the path he seemed to by contemplating taking. You have neither the cold heart nor the sheer luck of skill it takes to survive to my age. Go home, Brammas, wherever that is... Find yourself a nice girl, settle down, and forget everything you thought you knew about fighting...

The warning would have fallen on deaf ears, Teric knew. He had been given the same speech some thirty-five years ago when he himself had just been getting his foot in the door. Not all was lost though, as Brammas abruptly shifted from looking confused and stumbling over his words to standing straight-backed with his hand held out in thanks. Cool confidence, real or forced, seem to bolster the young man as he thanked the mercenary for something Teric wasn't entirely sure he'd given him.

"You’re an odd man, Brammas Ghistre." Teric said, taking the man's hand. They shook and then stood apart, an awkward silence falling over them. It was the silence that descends just before two people take their leave of one another, before either realizes that there is nothing left to say and moves along. "Maybe I'll run into you again sometime," The veteran added, "so you stay alive till then."

With that Teric returned his blade to his belt and turned away from Brammas, leaving the young man to do his own thing. They had just been strangers that morning, introduced to one another by an off-hand remark on the Citadel steps. It was weird, really, to have had Brammas following him around, but Teric liked to imagine that his short time spent with the boy was not wasted. Somewhere down the line the two of them would run into each other again, Teric was sure of it, but under what circumstances they met was entirely up in the air...

[Il Amator]

I watched the old man walk away, my passion for life rekindled. So maybe Teric hadn’t been able to teach me everything I had wanted to know about combat. However, the life lessons he had imparted were far more valuable. What a day… it would not be one I could soon forget. Shaking my head in admiration of the grizzled warrior, I turned about and headed the opposite way down the street.

Time to head back to Scara Brae and find Stefania; life once again held meaning. Hoping that I could pick up where we had left off a week ago, I resolved to find her and change he mind if necessary.

I made my way through the bustling city and toward the nearest caravan heading through the Concordia Forest. My life was mine to live until V’dralla called me to her service; no sense in wasting it.

Spoils:
None, I would like to save up toward a larger spoil in the thread that will follow this one; if that is possible. Thank you!

P.S. But I would like the usual EXP please :)

[Breaker]

Learning to Live, Living to Learn
Quest Judgement

I'm not going to sugarcoat it; I wasn't particularly impressed by this thread. What I saw was one experienced writer and one (comparatively) new writer both just phoning their posts in. I've seen better from both of you. The training battle sequence at the end brought your score up a little, but it could only help so much.

STORY

Continuity ~ 5/10. I didn't really understand why either of you were at the Citadel, aside from "I just finished a fight." It seemed odd that the Grandmaster of the Pagoda was fighting farm boys at the Citadel when he had work he could be doing. Teric's references to his life and Brammas thinking about his uncle/the battle he just finished are what stopped this score from being lower.

Setting ~ 4/10. Two or three of Teric's posts had good setting description, but it was good, not fantastic. For the rest of the thread the image I had in my mind was just grey silhouettes of buildings. I lost track of the number of times you both mentioned "the streets of Radasanth" without bothering to add any details about what Radasanth looks like. Do not ignore the setting, it makes your posts seem spaced and lazy. Think about what the place looks like, interact using all five senses, and pick out thoughtful details. Brammas, you really need to use a wider variety of verbs and adjectives when describing things. The small bit of description I did get from you was fairly flat and dull.

Pacing ~ 4/10. The thread moved along okay, but... well, it was boring. I didn't believe the way they met for a second, and I'll get more into that in Character. The job Teric had just came out of nowhere, and there was very little tension in this thread. Again, weak character lent to this a lot, so my comments in those sections will be more extensive.

CHARACTER

Dialogue ~ 6/10. Teric, you've got a good handle on your character. As a result, your dialogue came across true, strong and even interesting. Brammas... you write this character in first person, which is cool with me because I like first person and often write in it. But you're missing the finer points of the perspective. Everything you write in first person is essentially inner dialogue. This makes it easy to give your character's opinion on everything. Brammas didn't seem to have an opinion on most things. If you're going to write in first person, you must write in character; there's no such thing as first person omniscient, unless you're writing God. Also, your spoken dialogue came out forced and cliche, without any real zing or originality. Look at Teric's dialogue for examples of strong speech.

Action ~ 4/10. The first nine posts had almost no action. Teric smoked, Brammas sulked, and that was about it. I get that not much was going on, but that doesn't mean your characters are just talking heads. That said, I always weight the action-intensive scenes more heavily in this category, for obvious reasons. Even so...

Teric, generally your action was well written, but you risk making it boring due to your character's supreme skills. As you know, I've faced the same problem with my character, and I think I can give you a few pointers here. Try to find ways to put Teric in compromising situations. Obviously he's way better than those sailors, but what if he slipped on a stray piece of wood, and ended up on his back momentarily? Not only would this make the scene more exciting, it'd give Teric a chance to use a wider variety of techniques, which brings me to my second point. Teric punched, kicked, twisted a guys's arm, kicked him in the leg... action can be much more than this. Try getting really into the technique, and maybe throw in a few thoughtful details about how particularly effective individual moves are. Remember, your character is a Master fighter; he should be able to do something more interesting than punch guys in the face.

Brammas. I'm getting longwinded, so I'm going to try to keep this very concise. Your first barfight was comletely unbelievable to me. In a realistic scenario, Brammas would have died almost instantly. When someone shoves you towards to advancing goons, you don't have enough time to draw a rapier and dagger. Furthermore, a rapier is a terrible barfighting weapon. You ignored the setting through most of the fight, but that long blade should have been colliding with chairs, tables, mugs and even people. When you described the parry, I frankly didn't understand what he had just done. Also... Brammas got cut, so then he hit the guy with the hilt of his dagger and the flat of his sword? Come on! He was angry man-- blood for blood! Besides that, he didn't even take the time to wrap up his injury afterwards.

Also, Teric's complimentary attitude after that fight surprised me. The training fight at the end was decent, action-wise, and pulled your score up from a 3 to a 4.

Persona ~ 4/10. Half the time Brammas read like a whiny teenager or a sick puppy, and the other half I just got nothing from him. He went from being sad, to happy, to angry, to happy again so rapdily I lost track, and normally without any real reason. I also didn't believe the whole "spilling my guts to the first guy I see" beginning at all. Teric did well in general (again, you've got a good handle on the character) but frankly I didn't see why he bothered with Brammas. You mentioned that maybe Brammas reminded him of himself, but that just seemed like a cliche that didn't fully apply to the situation. If you guys are going to do a thread where people meet up and work together, try to be creative about how and why they meet.

WRITING STYLE

Technique ~ 4.5/10. There really wasn't much technique to speak of. Brammas, the few times that you used literary devices they were cliches, not original metaphors. Teric, some of yours were good but there weren't many of them. Also, for awhile it seemed like you guys might have been foreshadowing Brammas finding out that Teric is the Pagoda Grandmaster (in painfully obvious fashion, I might add) but then that didn't happen and the thead just kind of dissolved. I've got a few pointers, besides the obvious one that you need to use literary devices. Teric, when you're writing action sequences try to stay away from passive voice, as it slows things down. Also, you overuse the "..." at the end of a paragraph. Every once in awhile would be okay, but you used it often enough that I got tired of seeing it. Brammas, try to avoid asking so many rhetorical questions in your inner dialogue. There are better ways to write first person, as I mentioned above.

Mechanics ~ 6.5/10. There weren't many errors, but then again, the majority of the posts were so short it would be difficult to make errors in them. Brammas had a few instances of verb confusion, and both of you had your share of typos/things a quick proofread and spell check doesn't catch. Try reading your post out loud to yourself and you'll catch more of your errors.

Clarity ~ 7/10. It was easy enough to read, and easy to follow. But I found myself wishing the short posts were longer, and the long posts shorter.

MISCELLANEOUS

Wild Card ~ 4/10. To me, this thread lacked effort, realism, and any real kind of plot. Not only do I know you can both do better, I've seen you both do better. I encourage you both to think through your posts and storylines a lot more in the future, and put some real effort into the writing.

TOTAL ~ 49/100. If either of you want a little more feedback in any of the categories, you have my AIM.

EXP and GP Rewards

Il Amator gains 575 EXP but no GP as per his request
Bloodrose gains 2000 EXP and 300 GP

Other Rewards

Brammas receives a roll of linen gauze from a concerned bystander.
Teric receives a rawhide leather leash from a wisecracking barhopper.

EDIT: Brammas, make sure you link to this thread if you want it to count towards a spoil in your next one. And don't worry; the linen gauze won't effect the future spoils.

[Zook Murnig]

EXP/GP added!