A number of large crates lay stacked against the walls of the Fighter's Guild. Crates which no one would dare go through. After all, if one was looking to surreptitiously acquire belongings of disputable ownership, one would not want the dispute to be against a battle-trained mercenary. From the outside angle, aside from the crimson banner hung outside, the building looked rather like a warehouse.
With his sword and armour, no one questioned Railtus about his business on the way in. After all, he looked the part of a warrior. Activity here was less than expected, since there was limited work for freelance soldiers when faced with the dominance of the city guard. Either way, this was the best place to come to learn swordsmanship.
A southerner stood out, bearing a breastplate shining to a mirror-sheen over colourless tunics. A short war-axe was worn through a loop in his belt, while hammers, tongs and armourer tools were hung up nearby. His swarthy skin and craggy features suggested a home amongst the more temperate climes, thus far greater comfort around a forge.
"New soldier?" greeted the armourer.
"New to Marn at least." answered Railtus.
"So what do you come looking for?"
"Training arms."
Some discussion went further, involving a wearying quantity of technical language. In the end, several wooden weapons made an appearance. It was not difficult to imagine them as swords, crossguards and all. There was one short, one long, one broadening to resemble a machete, two daggers. Other arms were a sort of flanged club called a mace, followed by an axe. Further, two long poles were brought out, with the top quarter wrapped in tape.
Railtus shed his cloak, and wrapped the swords, axe and mace in it, tying off the ends with cord. This large bundle was handed to Julen. Each weapon was roughly twice he weight of the steel equivalent, save for axe and mace. Total weight neared thirty pounds. Then Railtus took the two poles and wrapped them in his shield arm in a tight press.
Combat training was very tool intensive. A sword on sword battle was quite unlike a sword against an axe. Julen would need training against each of them.
Without further fuss, the next journey was to the Anstrun Account Holdings, which would register Julen to draw his salary. Here, they took one took at the stack of letters of authorisation, then another look at the letters themselves. From here, they provided a badge of authorisation, muttered comments about 'suitable attire' and decided to just agree from there.
Here Railtus also recovered what he had spent by drawing his own stipend. The wasters had cost near to the last of his carried money.
After gathering a stack of wasters, Julen's pay and the badge which enabled him to collect it for himself, Railtus chose his next stop to be the bakery. After all, there were sights that Julen could do with soon, arrangements to be made.
Well, Julen had expressed an interest in Ydren. "First tenet, better to do right and die than to do wrong and prosper. Second tenet, act with honour and compassion with all things. Good men can be trusted in that without unquestioned rules. Third, right and honour come before Ydren himself. We follow an angel, not a god. Besides, why should gods be above justice?" An answer quite so out of the blue broke the rhythm of events like a staccato note.
By now they were near the bakery, and the room Julen kept.
Further Steps
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Sir Karsimir
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Further Steps
My faith protects me, my kevlar helps.
Julen watched in awe as each wooden weapon was brought out. He’d had no idea that Railtus planned on giving him such extensive instruction. The prospect was both exciting and intimidating. Of course, Railtus was probably a patient teacher -- everything about his manner spoke of such tolerance. But still, Julen didn’t want to look like a complete idiot in front of him.
Also, some small, practical part of him couldn’t help wondering how long it would be until Railtus expected him to use real weapons against real opponents.
Thirty pounds was not an unreasonable weight for Julen. Farming had been hard work, and a lot of the jobs he’d gotten since arriving in Marn involved heavy lifting. Even so, by the time they started back toward the bakery after finishing the last of their errands, his arms were beginning to tire. When Railtus abruptly returned to the topic they’d spoken of earlier, Julen welcomed the distraction.
“Those sound like very noble tenets,” Julen agreed. “In the religion that my father followed, angels were servants of God. Does Ydren serve a higher being?”
Even as Julen finished his question, the bakery came into sight. Temporarily setting down his burden, Julen unlocked the door, then ushered Railtus inside. Somehow, it felt like months had passed since leaving it this morning.
Also, some small, practical part of him couldn’t help wondering how long it would be until Railtus expected him to use real weapons against real opponents.
Thirty pounds was not an unreasonable weight for Julen. Farming had been hard work, and a lot of the jobs he’d gotten since arriving in Marn involved heavy lifting. Even so, by the time they started back toward the bakery after finishing the last of their errands, his arms were beginning to tire. When Railtus abruptly returned to the topic they’d spoken of earlier, Julen welcomed the distraction.
“Those sound like very noble tenets,” Julen agreed. “In the religion that my father followed, angels were servants of God. Does Ydren serve a higher being?”
Even as Julen finished his question, the bakery came into sight. Temporarily setting down his burden, Julen unlocked the door, then ushered Railtus inside. Somehow, it felt like months had passed since leaving it this morning.
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Strangely enough, this small makeshift dwelling felt more like home than the grand chambers of House Anstrun. There was need to dip the eight-foot poles to fit them through the door.
Julen's question was a reasonable one, or at least a common one to ask. Few people accepted the concept of Ydren existing independantly from any god, or master. Perhaps Julen's explanation was best, that the more common definition of angel involved a place in some heirarchy. Others struggled with the concept of such selflessness and humility in the absense of some greater being.
"What is a higher being? If a god, does power alone justify that higher status? In answer to your question, Ydren serves those in need. Status holds no meaning to him, innocence does. Good causes are worthy for their own sake, not any sponsor."
Once inside, Railtus leaned his training spears against the wall, then pulled his pack out from where it was stored.
"You are welcome to any rations left in the pack. My House should supply me with food. First thing you will need to do is to repair this." From the pack emerged a heavily padded red tunic, clearly some sort of limited armour. Highlighting this limitation was a gaping sword wound in the chest, indicating how Railtus had acquired it. Falling out with that was a long tapered dagger, and another seperate blade sprouting from an empty socket. Strapped atop the pack was a broad-bladed sword, widening towards the curved tip to provide a heavy chopping blade. This sword, Railtus detatched from the pack and laid them out clear.
"The sword may look impressive, but most of your training will be in half-pike and dagger. Believe me, they are more effective. You may wish to decide if there is anything you need to sort with Effie."
Julen's question was a reasonable one, or at least a common one to ask. Few people accepted the concept of Ydren existing independantly from any god, or master. Perhaps Julen's explanation was best, that the more common definition of angel involved a place in some heirarchy. Others struggled with the concept of such selflessness and humility in the absense of some greater being.
"What is a higher being? If a god, does power alone justify that higher status? In answer to your question, Ydren serves those in need. Status holds no meaning to him, innocence does. Good causes are worthy for their own sake, not any sponsor."
Once inside, Railtus leaned his training spears against the wall, then pulled his pack out from where it was stored.
"You are welcome to any rations left in the pack. My House should supply me with food. First thing you will need to do is to repair this." From the pack emerged a heavily padded red tunic, clearly some sort of limited armour. Highlighting this limitation was a gaping sword wound in the chest, indicating how Railtus had acquired it. Falling out with that was a long tapered dagger, and another seperate blade sprouting from an empty socket. Strapped atop the pack was a broad-bladed sword, widening towards the curved tip to provide a heavy chopping blade. This sword, Railtus detatched from the pack and laid them out clear.
"The sword may look impressive, but most of your training will be in half-pike and dagger. Believe me, they are more effective. You may wish to decide if there is anything you need to sort with Effie."
My faith protects me, my kevlar helps.
Julen nodded as he listened to Railtus’s explanation about Ydren. “Earlier, you referred to yourself as Angelsworn. Is that the title of all who follow Ydren? Or only those who are...” Julen hesitated, newly aware of Railtus’s distaste for being singled out as special. “Or only those who serve him as you do?”
Examining the padded tunic, Julen lifted an eyebrow when he noticed the rather prominent hole in its chest. I hope you serve me better than you served the last man who wore you, he thought, poking his finger through the rip. Then again, it’s doubtful that I’ll be facing such a mighty opponent as he did.
Unfamiliar with this type of armor -- or any type of armor, for that matter -- Julen tried to approach the tunic as if it was just a thick winter coat, or one of Rosemary’s quilts. “It doesn’t seem like it’s lost too much padding, which is good. But it will definitely need a patch. Fortunately, I have some sturdy scrap fabric and a sewing kit in my travel sack.”
The sword, however, conjured an entirely different set of emotions. After setting the padded tunic down on the room’s table, Julen turned his attention to it. And, even though he knew he should probably leave it alone until Railtus taught him some basic handling techniques, he couldn’t resist picking it up, gripping the hilt with one hand. Cautiously, he took a few small swings. He couldn’t yet know what would happen when the blade, which passed through air so smooth and silent, finally met flesh. He couldn’t yet understand the triumph and horror of that moment. But he would, one day. That was the path he’d stepped onto.
“How old were you?” Julen asked, momentarily forgetting that there were indeed matters he needed to settle with Effie. “When you first held a sword? How did it feel?”
Examining the padded tunic, Julen lifted an eyebrow when he noticed the rather prominent hole in its chest. I hope you serve me better than you served the last man who wore you, he thought, poking his finger through the rip. Then again, it’s doubtful that I’ll be facing such a mighty opponent as he did.
Unfamiliar with this type of armor -- or any type of armor, for that matter -- Julen tried to approach the tunic as if it was just a thick winter coat, or one of Rosemary’s quilts. “It doesn’t seem like it’s lost too much padding, which is good. But it will definitely need a patch. Fortunately, I have some sturdy scrap fabric and a sewing kit in my travel sack.”
The sword, however, conjured an entirely different set of emotions. After setting the padded tunic down on the room’s table, Julen turned his attention to it. And, even though he knew he should probably leave it alone until Railtus taught him some basic handling techniques, he couldn’t resist picking it up, gripping the hilt with one hand. Cautiously, he took a few small swings. He couldn’t yet know what would happen when the blade, which passed through air so smooth and silent, finally met flesh. He couldn’t yet understand the triumph and horror of that moment. But he would, one day. That was the path he’d stepped onto.
“How old were you?” Julen asked, momentarily forgetting that there were indeed matters he needed to settle with Effie. “When you first held a sword? How did it feel?”
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Puzzlement wrinkled his brow at the first question. To his knowledge, they had already covered that. Nevertheless, it made most sense for Railtus to say so again. "Angelsworn is the term for the transformation. As a faith we are Ydrenites. Doubtless you have heard of the Knights Griori, they have Angelsworn in their ranks, although by a different name."
"As for the arming coat." Railtus indicated with a gesture as he sat down easily, "You may want to cannabalise it for a full gamberson. Sew stiff linen into tubes and stuff them full of cloth waste and straw, the armour should be fairly rigid. Start collecting all the wax you can find as well, and any leather if you can. If you boil leather it hardens as it dries, and makes for a decent breastplate." Although a gamberson was among the armour Railtus had worn earlier, the leather pieces were made without this process. However, he was getting ahead of himself. "Still, for now, that arming coat makes good training gear."
Swords were less dangerous than people thought. At least, less dangerous to the one holding it. So Railtus made no objections to Julen's handling. "When I first held a sword I was six, and loved it. It was a dream from as far back as I can remember. I used to train at least ten hours a week, twenty when I got older. Until my incident with the garrison when I was fifteen." A careless shrugged followed that thought, betraying his casualness concerning the event. "Cut downwards in X's. Let the weight of the sword make the effort for you. Flow through the stroke, like a figure eight on it's side, to bring the sword high again for another cut. That is a backsword, so fights differently to most swords, but is easier to use with less training."
"As for the arming coat." Railtus indicated with a gesture as he sat down easily, "You may want to cannabalise it for a full gamberson. Sew stiff linen into tubes and stuff them full of cloth waste and straw, the armour should be fairly rigid. Start collecting all the wax you can find as well, and any leather if you can. If you boil leather it hardens as it dries, and makes for a decent breastplate." Although a gamberson was among the armour Railtus had worn earlier, the leather pieces were made without this process. However, he was getting ahead of himself. "Still, for now, that arming coat makes good training gear."
Swords were less dangerous than people thought. At least, less dangerous to the one holding it. So Railtus made no objections to Julen's handling. "When I first held a sword I was six, and loved it. It was a dream from as far back as I can remember. I used to train at least ten hours a week, twenty when I got older. Until my incident with the garrison when I was fifteen." A careless shrugged followed that thought, betraying his casualness concerning the event. "Cut downwards in X's. Let the weight of the sword make the effort for you. Flow through the stroke, like a figure eight on it's side, to bring the sword high again for another cut. That is a backsword, so fights differently to most swords, but is easier to use with less training."
My faith protects me, my kevlar helps.
Carefully listening to Railtus’s instructions, Julen passed his sword through the air in the manner described. Already, he could feel the sword’s weight aiding his downward swing and adding momentum when he brought it back up for another strike. In several ways, the motion wasn’t so different from using a scythe to harvest wheat, or an axe to chop firewood. “Since you were six, huh? I can see that I have some serious catching up to do.”
Then, with a touch of reluctance, Julen put the sword back down. His mind had already begun returning to the subject of Railtus’s religion, and he didn’t want to risk an accident because he was distracted.
“So you’re Angelsworn because you’ve begun the transformation,” Julen reiterated, trying to put everything straight inside his head. “But not all who follow Ydren undergo this transformation? And others, who follow different faiths, sometimes undergo it -- although they call it by a different name?”
“I apologize if I’m being thick about this. Your beliefs are very different from most that I’ve heard before. Out of respect for them, and respect for you, I want to make sure that I understand correctly. Also...” Julen hesitated, hoping Railtus wouldn’t take offense at what he was about to say. “There is much about the path of Ydren which attracts me. But I find it hard enough to be a good man. If following Ydren means that I will be expected to become an angel, well...I think that’s more of a mouthful than I care to bite off.”
Then, with a touch of reluctance, Julen put the sword back down. His mind had already begun returning to the subject of Railtus’s religion, and he didn’t want to risk an accident because he was distracted.
“So you’re Angelsworn because you’ve begun the transformation,” Julen reiterated, trying to put everything straight inside his head. “But not all who follow Ydren undergo this transformation? And others, who follow different faiths, sometimes undergo it -- although they call it by a different name?”
“I apologize if I’m being thick about this. Your beliefs are very different from most that I’ve heard before. Out of respect for them, and respect for you, I want to make sure that I understand correctly. Also...” Julen hesitated, hoping Railtus wouldn’t take offense at what he was about to say. “There is much about the path of Ydren which attracts me. But I find it hard enough to be a good man. If following Ydren means that I will be expected to become an angel, well...I think that’s more of a mouthful than I care to bite off.”
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Sir Karsimir
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Holding the conversation with the falchion put back down was easier. The furniture would certainly be greatful. After all, there was little enough room to use a sword without damaging something. More so when one considered that the entire purpose of a sword was to damage something.
"What makes me an Angelsworn is something deeper." Railtus corrected, "To be an Angelsworn is to be an idea made flesh, so you are right that an Angelsworn is not the same as a Ydrenite."
"You are right that my faith is rare. We make no claims of Ydren being a power above any other. We believe justice and right exist independantly of Ydren, that he upholds rather than defines it. Any worship involved is directed towards what Ydren stands for rather than Ydren himself." From what Railtus knew, of the Divine Right at least, there was so much about praising a god without need for the god to prove itself worthy of praise. So few gods ever practiced what they preached. Many people could find the new concept very intimidating, so Railtus had some basis for understanding the doubts which Julen spoke of. "While nearly every Ydrenite aspires to join the ranks of the Angelsworn, that is more from the mindset than a requirement. We make no pretences that life for the Angelsworn is less than demanding. Too much to expect from anyone. Some of us choose it anyway." Even when speaking of self-sacrifice, Railtus shrugged, as if the sacrifice was somehow less because he was the one making it.
With the falchion on the floor, Railtus picked it up and slid it back into the scabbard. Warrior's habits did not enjoy naked steel left unattended. Ever practical, Railtus thought of concerns for the moment. "Can you think of anything else we need to consider?" After all, serving the cause of right was something worth doing well, and worth being thorough.
"What makes me an Angelsworn is something deeper." Railtus corrected, "To be an Angelsworn is to be an idea made flesh, so you are right that an Angelsworn is not the same as a Ydrenite."
"You are right that my faith is rare. We make no claims of Ydren being a power above any other. We believe justice and right exist independantly of Ydren, that he upholds rather than defines it. Any worship involved is directed towards what Ydren stands for rather than Ydren himself." From what Railtus knew, of the Divine Right at least, there was so much about praising a god without need for the god to prove itself worthy of praise. So few gods ever practiced what they preached. Many people could find the new concept very intimidating, so Railtus had some basis for understanding the doubts which Julen spoke of. "While nearly every Ydrenite aspires to join the ranks of the Angelsworn, that is more from the mindset than a requirement. We make no pretences that life for the Angelsworn is less than demanding. Too much to expect from anyone. Some of us choose it anyway." Even when speaking of self-sacrifice, Railtus shrugged, as if the sacrifice was somehow less because he was the one making it.
With the falchion on the floor, Railtus picked it up and slid it back into the scabbard. Warrior's habits did not enjoy naked steel left unattended. Ever practical, Railtus thought of concerns for the moment. "Can you think of anything else we need to consider?" After all, serving the cause of right was something worth doing well, and worth being thorough.
My faith protects me, my kevlar helps.
“I think...” Julen’s mind was struggling to hold all the unfamiliar concepts that had been tossed into it, like a pot full of strange ingredients, and he didn’t if know he had any chance of bringing them together into something palatable. But it was never a good idea to make premature judgments. As Rosemary always said, you can’t condemn a stew until it’s had time to simmer. “I think I need some more time to mull over what you’ve already told me. And we need to get going. I’ll go speak with Effie.”
Remembering Railtus’s last meeting with the bakery’s owner, Julen couldn’t repress a wry smile. “I assume you’ll want to wait here while I do that.”
Leaving his room behind, Julen entered the bakery through its rear entrance. Most of the baking had already been completed for the day, and Effie’s two young apprentices sat on stools beside a wooden table, carefully drizzling colored icing onto shaped cookies. Effie herself hurried between overseeing them and serving the customers who entered her store. Still, even as she rushed about, it only took her a moment to notice Julen’s arrival. “Well, you’re back. And without that young man’s shield. I hope you didn’t manage to lose it.”
“No, Effie. I--”
“Andreya! Not purple icing! That cookie is shaped like a frog. Have you ever seen a purple frog?”
“I’ve never seen a frog at all, Miss Effie.”
“Well, they’re green. Honestly. Scaring our customers with purple frogs.”
“Effie,” Julen interjected, “I was just wondering if you’d heard anything from Aranel?”
“I suppose you think I have nothing better to do than relay your messages. No, no one by that name has been in here today. Miss Cabbershack! It’s good to see you. How can I help you this fine afternoon?”
Patiently, Julen waited until Miss Cabbershack had been sold a loaf of rye bread. As Effie tucked the bishan into her cash box, she gave Julen a searching look. “Well? Why are you still here?”
“I was hoping you could do me a favor.”
“As if I have the time for favors! What do you believe I do here all day, sit around and rub fine ointments on my skin? Andreya! Moons aren’t purple, either. Surely you’re not so blind that you’ve never seen the moon.”
“When someone from Shim comes in, I need you to give them a message to take to Rosemary. Please, Effie? I’m sure someone from the village will stop by, because in all the letters I write to Rosemary, I tell her that yours is the best bakery in Marn.”
That seemed to soften Effie a bit. “Very well. What message?”
“Tell her that I’m coming home. A week from today. Not forever, but for awhile. Tell her...” Julen’s voice cracked, overwhelmed by the emotion he felt when he thought about seeing Rosemary again. “No, she knows the rest. Just tell her that I’m coming home.”
To Julen’s surprise, Effie actually smiled. If he hadn’t known better, he would have thought he saw moisture shimmering in her aged eyes. “I’ll try to see that she gets the message. A husband belongs with his wife.”
“Thank you, Effie.” Bowing, Julen raised one of Effie’s wrinkled hands, and pressed a kiss to it. Then he turned to go. But on his way out, he couldn’t resist pausing beside Andreya. “In Shim, we have a pond with lots of frogs. I’ll bring one back for you. You can keep it as a pet, and feed it flies.”
“Flies!” Effie shrieked. “They’ll be no such insects in my kitchen! Julen of Shim, if you dare return here with some slimy, fly-devouring, creature, I’ll--”
But Julen was already ducking out the rear exit. Returning to his room, he dug out his sewing kit, and settled down at the table with it and the padded tunic. “Still no word from Aranel. And I arranged for Effie to try to get a message to Rosemary about our visit. So as soon as I mend this, we can go get started on my training.”
Remembering Railtus’s last meeting with the bakery’s owner, Julen couldn’t repress a wry smile. “I assume you’ll want to wait here while I do that.”
Leaving his room behind, Julen entered the bakery through its rear entrance. Most of the baking had already been completed for the day, and Effie’s two young apprentices sat on stools beside a wooden table, carefully drizzling colored icing onto shaped cookies. Effie herself hurried between overseeing them and serving the customers who entered her store. Still, even as she rushed about, it only took her a moment to notice Julen’s arrival. “Well, you’re back. And without that young man’s shield. I hope you didn’t manage to lose it.”
“No, Effie. I--”
“Andreya! Not purple icing! That cookie is shaped like a frog. Have you ever seen a purple frog?”
“I’ve never seen a frog at all, Miss Effie.”
“Well, they’re green. Honestly. Scaring our customers with purple frogs.”
“Effie,” Julen interjected, “I was just wondering if you’d heard anything from Aranel?”
“I suppose you think I have nothing better to do than relay your messages. No, no one by that name has been in here today. Miss Cabbershack! It’s good to see you. How can I help you this fine afternoon?”
Patiently, Julen waited until Miss Cabbershack had been sold a loaf of rye bread. As Effie tucked the bishan into her cash box, she gave Julen a searching look. “Well? Why are you still here?”
“I was hoping you could do me a favor.”
“As if I have the time for favors! What do you believe I do here all day, sit around and rub fine ointments on my skin? Andreya! Moons aren’t purple, either. Surely you’re not so blind that you’ve never seen the moon.”
“When someone from Shim comes in, I need you to give them a message to take to Rosemary. Please, Effie? I’m sure someone from the village will stop by, because in all the letters I write to Rosemary, I tell her that yours is the best bakery in Marn.”
That seemed to soften Effie a bit. “Very well. What message?”
“Tell her that I’m coming home. A week from today. Not forever, but for awhile. Tell her...” Julen’s voice cracked, overwhelmed by the emotion he felt when he thought about seeing Rosemary again. “No, she knows the rest. Just tell her that I’m coming home.”
To Julen’s surprise, Effie actually smiled. If he hadn’t known better, he would have thought he saw moisture shimmering in her aged eyes. “I’ll try to see that she gets the message. A husband belongs with his wife.”
“Thank you, Effie.” Bowing, Julen raised one of Effie’s wrinkled hands, and pressed a kiss to it. Then he turned to go. But on his way out, he couldn’t resist pausing beside Andreya. “In Shim, we have a pond with lots of frogs. I’ll bring one back for you. You can keep it as a pet, and feed it flies.”
“Flies!” Effie shrieked. “They’ll be no such insects in my kitchen! Julen of Shim, if you dare return here with some slimy, fly-devouring, creature, I’ll--”
But Julen was already ducking out the rear exit. Returning to his room, he dug out his sewing kit, and settled down at the table with it and the padded tunic. “Still no word from Aranel. And I arranged for Effie to try to get a message to Rosemary about our visit. So as soon as I mend this, we can go get started on my training.”
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Sir Karsimir
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Frogs?
Overhearing conversations is often surreal, since giving less than a full story leaves gaping holes in the context. Seriously, he had little worry about meeting Effie again, and in fact he wondered whether Andreya was the one who had waved and curtseyed before.
Of course there would be no flies in Effie's kitchen, the frog would see to that.
Still, once Julen exited, Railtus was glad to be active again. Idleness never came easy to one of the Angelsworn. There was always more good to be done. Another innocent to aid. Due to this Railtus paced like a caged tiger while Julen stitched away at the damaged garment. An activity which perhaps slowed the process more than anything else. Still, he could not help being restless.
Repairs finished, the result needed to be sturdy rather than sightly. Espescially since the garment would likely be shredded for a fresh gamberson after the week. "Put that on." the young aspirant instructed, "Believe me, you will need it." Very certain assurances were given.
The Angelsworn picked up the training spears. At the moment, there was little need to bring the real sword.
Overhearing conversations is often surreal, since giving less than a full story leaves gaping holes in the context. Seriously, he had little worry about meeting Effie again, and in fact he wondered whether Andreya was the one who had waved and curtseyed before.
Of course there would be no flies in Effie's kitchen, the frog would see to that.
Still, once Julen exited, Railtus was glad to be active again. Idleness never came easy to one of the Angelsworn. There was always more good to be done. Another innocent to aid. Due to this Railtus paced like a caged tiger while Julen stitched away at the damaged garment. An activity which perhaps slowed the process more than anything else. Still, he could not help being restless.
Repairs finished, the result needed to be sturdy rather than sightly. Espescially since the garment would likely be shredded for a fresh gamberson after the week. "Put that on." the young aspirant instructed, "Believe me, you will need it." Very certain assurances were given.
The Angelsworn picked up the training spears. At the moment, there was little need to bring the real sword.
My faith protects me, my kevlar helps.
Julen put on the padded tunic. Apparently its previous owner had been somewhat stouter, so the tunic hung a little loosely on Julen’s lean frame. This, combined with the impromptu patch in the center of the tunic’s chest, kept Julen from looking quite as impressive as Railtus looked in his own armor. But then, Julen reflected, if I was in this for the glamour, I wouldn’t be about to go spend the afternoon getting pummeled with wooden swords.
After lifting the bundle Railtus had made with his cape, Julen followed his friend outside, amused by the warrior’s eagerness to get going. He was beginning to think it was miracle that Railtus ever slept.
“I’m not sure if you had any place in mind to conduct my training,” Julen ventured, as he locked the door of his room behind him. “A stretch of forest begins just outside the city. If we go there, I doubt we’ll be disturbed. Most people tend to avoid the woods, due to the...ah...things that live in them. Not entirely natural things. But as long as we’re gone by sundown, we shouldn’t run into anything too nasty.”
After lifting the bundle Railtus had made with his cape, Julen followed his friend outside, amused by the warrior’s eagerness to get going. He was beginning to think it was miracle that Railtus ever slept.
“I’m not sure if you had any place in mind to conduct my training,” Julen ventured, as he locked the door of his room behind him. “A stretch of forest begins just outside the city. If we go there, I doubt we’ll be disturbed. Most people tend to avoid the woods, due to the...ah...things that live in them. Not entirely natural things. But as long as we’re gone by sundown, we shouldn’t run into anything too nasty.”
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Sir Karsimir
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"With me, we will do."
Julen's inadvertant warning shone clear in the mind of Railtus. In fact, he was surprised to find Julen so willing to accept such needless danger. Perhaps fear was made pale by living for so long near the threat, or maybe this was a mark of confidence in Railtus. Either way, this was a situation he did not like, and one without need at that.
"My presence would draw what lurked within, placing you in unacceptable danger. We need to find somewhere else."
Given a few moments thought, Railtus saw fit to expand upon that terse command. This man was intended to be his aide after all, and time was not a factor. "Angelsworn are beacons of hope to those in need. Darker forces may notice that beacon as well. Our spirits are most favoured for such beings to feed upon. The last thing I want is for it to come after me and find you." Spoken truly, personal safety remained secondary in his mind. Alluded to in that statement was a faded glimpse of the extent of unrestrained evil.
"Choose somewhere which is not haunted. Best that we do not wake some dormant evil, not until we can keep it from being unleashed upon the city."
Julen's inadvertant warning shone clear in the mind of Railtus. In fact, he was surprised to find Julen so willing to accept such needless danger. Perhaps fear was made pale by living for so long near the threat, or maybe this was a mark of confidence in Railtus. Either way, this was a situation he did not like, and one without need at that.
"My presence would draw what lurked within, placing you in unacceptable danger. We need to find somewhere else."
Given a few moments thought, Railtus saw fit to expand upon that terse command. This man was intended to be his aide after all, and time was not a factor. "Angelsworn are beacons of hope to those in need. Darker forces may notice that beacon as well. Our spirits are most favoured for such beings to feed upon. The last thing I want is for it to come after me and find you." Spoken truly, personal safety remained secondary in his mind. Alluded to in that statement was a faded glimpse of the extent of unrestrained evil.
"Choose somewhere which is not haunted. Best that we do not wake some dormant evil, not until we can keep it from being unleashed upon the city."
My faith protects me, my kevlar helps.
“Oh. Okay.” Railtus’s reaction startled Julen. After all, his description of the woods was no more than what he’d been told by his own father, and it hadn’t kept him -- or any other child in Shim, for that matter -- from going exploring. As long as you didn’t take any foolish risks, it was usually safe enough. Most of what dwelled in the forest was more indifferent than truly good or evil. And most of it was content to sleep.
Of course, every so often, someone went into the woods and never came home.
And neither Julen, nor any resident of Shim, was Angelsworn.
Julen had seen Railtus challenge the best swordsman in Marn. He was wearing evidence of what happened when bandits ambushed Railtus, even when they had surprise and numbers on their side. Railtus didn’t shrink from danger. If he thought going into the woods posed too much risk, Julen didn’t feel inclined to argue with him.
“So you’re a great big magnet for evil,” Julen joked, trying to shake off the chill that had enveloped him when Railtus spoke about dark forces that fed on spirit. “Now you tell me.”
As for the question of where to train, it only took Julen a moment to come up with a couple of possibilities. “Well, we could go to the Industrial District. There are usually a few empty warehouses where we could practice. And I think the gnomes keep things loud enough to chase away any ghosts. Of course, only the gods can imagine what other interruptions we might have to endure.” A roll of Julen’s eyes indicated what he thought of gnomish technology. “Over there, something is always blowing up, or catching fire, or who-knows-what-else.”
“My other idea is Fort Marn. Or, rather, the ruins of Fort Marn. No one really goes there, mostly because there’s not much to see anymore. But it would give us an open space to practice in. And I’ve never heard of it being haunted.”
Of course, every so often, someone went into the woods and never came home.
And neither Julen, nor any resident of Shim, was Angelsworn.
Julen had seen Railtus challenge the best swordsman in Marn. He was wearing evidence of what happened when bandits ambushed Railtus, even when they had surprise and numbers on their side. Railtus didn’t shrink from danger. If he thought going into the woods posed too much risk, Julen didn’t feel inclined to argue with him.
“So you’re a great big magnet for evil,” Julen joked, trying to shake off the chill that had enveloped him when Railtus spoke about dark forces that fed on spirit. “Now you tell me.”
As for the question of where to train, it only took Julen a moment to come up with a couple of possibilities. “Well, we could go to the Industrial District. There are usually a few empty warehouses where we could practice. And I think the gnomes keep things loud enough to chase away any ghosts. Of course, only the gods can imagine what other interruptions we might have to endure.” A roll of Julen’s eyes indicated what he thought of gnomish technology. “Over there, something is always blowing up, or catching fire, or who-knows-what-else.”
“My other idea is Fort Marn. Or, rather, the ruins of Fort Marn. No one really goes there, mostly because there’s not much to see anymore. But it would give us an open space to practice in. And I’ve never heard of it being haunted.”
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Sir Karsimir
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By the suggestions presented, there did not appear to be much of a decision to make. The options which Julen described seemed to be between training amidst the constant racket and confusion of unfamiliar machinery with the peril of random disaster, compared with the secluded remains of a fort, somewhere in the distant past once used for the very purpose of training new soldiers.
"You have a certain preference, I gather?"
For all that Railtus appreciated the humour, it highlighted one important matter in need of being addressed. So in full knowledge of the joke, Railtus gave a serious answer. Eventually, the concept did not come easily to him. "More that they hunger for our souls." Railtus stated, quite frankly. "If one were to draw near." Leaving the matter blank as to one what, "My presence would show clearest and strongest to such as their senses. Dread powers do not follow in my wake. You are in no danger for my company. On my word we would not be bringing danger to your house with Rosemary in Shim."
A grave matter to discuss, and discuss so suddenly at that. Still, Julen deserved such assurances.
"You have a certain preference, I gather?"
For all that Railtus appreciated the humour, it highlighted one important matter in need of being addressed. So in full knowledge of the joke, Railtus gave a serious answer. Eventually, the concept did not come easily to him. "More that they hunger for our souls." Railtus stated, quite frankly. "If one were to draw near." Leaving the matter blank as to one what, "My presence would show clearest and strongest to such as their senses. Dread powers do not follow in my wake. You are in no danger for my company. On my word we would not be bringing danger to your house with Rosemary in Shim."
A grave matter to discuss, and discuss so suddenly at that. Still, Julen deserved such assurances.
My faith protects me, my kevlar helps.
Julen answered Railtus’s inquiry about his preference with a wry smile. “I may have overstated quite how bad things are in the Industrial District,” he admitted. “But soon after coming to Marn, I slept in one of those warehouses. It’s not my fondest memory.” Having lived most of his life in the country, Julen was accustomed to quiet nights, broken only by the cry of an owl or the rush of wind past wooden walls. The clanks, bangs, and screeches of gnomish machinery had given him nightmares about being tortured on the immense gears of some horrible clockwork hell.
“And the fort isn’t without its own disadvantages. In order to reach it, we’ll need to pass through the shanty town. That’s where Marn’s poorest live. Even the guards don’t like to go there.” Julen shook his head. Shim was hardly a prosperous community, but at least most people there had shelter and some meager way to eke out a living. On the few times Julen had passed through the shanty town, he’d been appalled by the poverty that plagued its populace. “It’s not the safest place. But the dangers it presents are the crimes of the desperate, and those who prey on the desperate, rather than the more mystical kind.”
Which brought them to the subject Julen had so inadvertently raised. Julen appreciated Railtus’s candid assurances about the nature of his attraction to dark powers. So, he answered his friend with equal frankness. “I believe you. Although we’ve only been acquainted for a short time, I know that if you thought you posed any danger to me, I would not be enjoying your company. If anything, I’m the one who puts you at risk. I have abilities I can’t control, and if we encounter a threat before I’m ready to face it, defending me will make you vulnerable.” With other people, Julen might have questioned whether they would put protecting a companion before their own self-defense. With Railtus, he didn’t.
“However, the only way to make me less of a liability is to begin my training. So -- the warehouse or the ruins? I’m fine either way.”
“And the fort isn’t without its own disadvantages. In order to reach it, we’ll need to pass through the shanty town. That’s where Marn’s poorest live. Even the guards don’t like to go there.” Julen shook his head. Shim was hardly a prosperous community, but at least most people there had shelter and some meager way to eke out a living. On the few times Julen had passed through the shanty town, he’d been appalled by the poverty that plagued its populace. “It’s not the safest place. But the dangers it presents are the crimes of the desperate, and those who prey on the desperate, rather than the more mystical kind.”
Which brought them to the subject Julen had so inadvertently raised. Julen appreciated Railtus’s candid assurances about the nature of his attraction to dark powers. So, he answered his friend with equal frankness. “I believe you. Although we’ve only been acquainted for a short time, I know that if you thought you posed any danger to me, I would not be enjoying your company. If anything, I’m the one who puts you at risk. I have abilities I can’t control, and if we encounter a threat before I’m ready to face it, defending me will make you vulnerable.” With other people, Julen might have questioned whether they would put protecting a companion before their own self-defense. With Railtus, he didn’t.
“However, the only way to make me less of a liability is to begin my training. So -- the warehouse or the ruins? I’m fine either way.”
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Sir Karsimir
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Listening intently to what Julen had to say, Railtus could not help but wince at the description of the shantytown. Isolated desperation, without even the guards to defend the weak and helpless. This was something with no right to be.
Part of him wanted to choose the industrial district, if only to be spared the sight of such suffering, but the suffering would have to be endured even if Railtus did not see it. The path of right was not achieved through hiding from the unwelcome.
"We go to Fort Marn," Railtus decided, "There is sure to be much for us to do in the shantytown soon, with no Guard to protect the defenceless." With visible effort, Railtus hardened his heart. "Something we could better do if we train you up first. Hopefully our armour would discourage any trouble."
"I will not enjoy this," predicted the Angelsworn. "Hopefully, I can make some small difference through healing."
Part of him wanted to choose the industrial district, if only to be spared the sight of such suffering, but the suffering would have to be endured even if Railtus did not see it. The path of right was not achieved through hiding from the unwelcome.
"We go to Fort Marn," Railtus decided, "There is sure to be much for us to do in the shantytown soon, with no Guard to protect the defenceless." With visible effort, Railtus hardened his heart. "Something we could better do if we train you up first. Hopefully our armour would discourage any trouble."
"I will not enjoy this," predicted the Angelsworn. "Hopefully, I can make some small difference through healing."
My faith protects me, my kevlar helps.