[FLASHBACK] Fond memories. [Solo]

[Markus Andres]

505 AV – 64th of summer. Markus Andres was walking down a quiet path in the Syliran castle. He wasn’t in a good mood, he was rarely in a good mood in this city. The naked stone walls sucked out all the fun and pleasure of being training. If that had any fun to begin with. Markus had turned 13 almost half a season ago. Still no master or mentor. Whatever they called them at this castle. He had expected that, so he didn’t feel his pride hurt as much as he would have expected. But still. It left him with so much anger that it took all of his willpower to keep it in check and not throw a temper tantrum in the face of the first person who got in his way. But it was quite simple. Markus was sick and tired of being a page. It was the same job day in and day out. Follow inane orders. Do simple boring tasks. Follow stupid lessons with other kids. It wasn’t what he had expected when he had been forced to leave Zeltiva. Back then he had had the choice of running away and become a street urchin, or follow his father’s wishes to become a Syliran Knight. The idea of being a street urchin sounded much better as Markus walked down those dull hallways. Hearing his own steps echo suddenly. He snapped back to the present and looked around. He was close, or so he thought, everything looked similar. But yes, he got a feeling in his guts that he was close to the right place. He saw the opening to where he was headed. He stepped through the opening and expected there to be more than a single knight in the room. He looked around and noticed how it was decorated. Or rather. How it wasn’t decorated. The walls were bare. Barer than what was usual for the castle’s interior. He saw a table with a single chair on the other side. The knight looked up when he walked through the opening. Markus knew protocol when he entered a room, he was supposed to say something, but he really didn’t care about those stupid rules. ‘Identify yourself.’ The man said with a stern voice. Looking directly down at Markus. Who stared him right back into the eyes. Not caring much for the consequences, he was on his way out. After all. “Why should I? You ob-.“ Markus never even saw the knight move.

[Markus Andres]

Markus came to his senses some 10 chimes later. Looking up at the roof he was a bit perplexed. What had happened? For the first few seconds his mind was a blank slate. His dazed gaze turned from the roof to around the room. His vision sailed past the knight who was sitting on the table. The blurry image of that knight ignited the anger in Markus’ body. The young page cared little for the pain that was having its way with his body. He pushed himself to his feet and charged head first at the damn knight. The knight didn’t even bother to stand up from the table. Markus charge got in close to the knight - Only to be met with a heavy foot directly into his chest. That sent the young page stumbling back, until he fell right on his rear. ‘Identify yourself.’ “Go screw yourself…” Markus was back on his feet again. It took a feat of willpower to force his body back up again and he could see that the knight was mildly surprised… Or was it amused? - By his struggle. Markus charged straight at the knight again, who, as Markus expected, lifted his foot again to let the young page run into his own doom. But this time, he weaved to the right. Narrowly dodging the big foot. Markus’ left fist going straight at the knight’s face. – Once again. Markus didn’t see the knight move. But he had seen the expression on his face. It had looked like a smirk in the brief moment he had seen it. Of course he could have been mistaken. – Crash.

[Markus Andres]

It would be another 10 chimes before Markus came around again – It was getting really old-, this time he groaned loudly as the headache made him all too aware of what had happened to him. He sat up and looked at the knight, sitting there on the table, with a knife, cutting into an apple in his other hand. Markus had learned his lesson. Well, if the lesson was not to attack this guy. Especially not when he was armed with a knife. Markus shook his head, trying to shake away the dizziness. Been out cold twice in the matter of half a bell. Marks slowly got back up on his feet again and made sure he wouldn’t tumble to the ground again. “Awrr, my head … What the hell do you want?” Markus looked at the knight, expecting some sort of reaction, but he didn’t even bother to look up at Markus, he just continued to cut pieces out of the apple and then eating. It annoyed Markus some, but he still didn’t have a clue why he was there. But something compelled him to stay. Something told him he would be better off staying in the room instead of just getting out of there. “Answer me!” Markus yelled. Still no reaction at all. He suppressed an urge to rush in swinging. He had already done that … twice. And failed miserably both times. He would gain nothing from trying a third time, but anger the knight to give Markus a more lasting reminder. Perhaps that was why the knight had found a knife. To tell Markus he had grown bored of these games. So had Markus. It slowly came to him, the words the knight had spoken earlier. Identify. ”Markus K. Andres. Page.” The knight put the knife down on the table and looked up at Markus. No hint of the smile/smirk he had seen on his lips earlier. Just a stern face. Markus must have imagined that smile. For that face looked like it was forever contorted into a stern sour expression. The knight pushed himself away from the table and Markus had to suppress his instinct to move away from the man. Knowing that in a single swift motion, he could deck Markus. ’Stern Mason, Black Company, 3rd regiment gold quadron. – Pick up the shield over there.’ Markus turned around to look for the shield he was motioning towards. He walked over to the heater shield and picked it up. Or tried to. He examined the shield. Pure steel it seemed. Battered and bent, but still a good shield to have by your side. If you could lift it. Then he grabbed it with both hands and pulled it up and realized that it was at least twice as heavy as a normal shield. With the shield in both hands he walked over to his former position in front of Mason. The disapproving look told Markus he was holding the shield very wrong, but he saw no other solution. ’In your left arm only.’ Markus slid his left hand into the straps and held tightly on to the shield. Feeling how his body automatically leaned to the right so he was using his entire body as a large support for the steel shield. Mason gave him another look that said he didn’t approve. He walked around him. With a stick he had conjured seemingly out of nowhere. He patted Markus right side until he stood straight. Which sent a sharp signal of fatigue through his left arm immediately and he couldn’t hold the shield up and it fell down to his side. Just hanging at the end of his arm. A useless lump of iron. ’You are hopeless.’ That comment made Markus’ anger flare up again and just out of spite, he forced his left arm to lift up so he was holding the shield properly. Thus it was protecting his body from strikes from the left side. Mason walked around him again. Inspecting his stance. Markus didn’t feel the stick hit him anywhere. Which he figured meant his stance was alright. For now. Markus held the shield with all his might. Keeping it from faltering. Mason just walked up and leaned against the table. Watching Markus, who’s anger fueled strength soon emptied out and the shield began to lower slowly. Then in one fluid motion, two blinks and three steps, he was in front of Markus. The stick swinging at Markus. Coming in slowly to his his head. Again, the reservoirs filled and Markus instinctively raised the shield to protect himself. Hearing the stick collide with the metal shield. The ringing sound close to Markus’ left ear annoyed him. This way the two continued until Markus couldn’t feel his left arm at all and he had this annoying ringing tone in his left ear.

[Markus Andres]

505 AV – 88th of Summer. For Markus, his time as a Page had seemed like a dream time. Those days had been so much easier. Just do minor tasks and chores and you were settled. But now, as a Squire he was undergoing gruelling training with a sadistic master named Stern Mason. Markus remembered him being unable to move his left arm after their first training practice for the whole next day. Even the simplest of tasks send pain through his arm. Their training with the shield had resumed every second day. With a day for his arm to recover. The day between shield training, was spent on physically training the rest of his body. Strengthening it. Preparing it. It was the 22nd day after his first training. Or his 13th time to practice with the shield. It was getting dull even as his left arm strength had improved drastically in the short time, his mental attitude towards the shield had not. Why bother with a shield if your sword destroyed the opponent before he could attack? He thought this as he stepped through the entrance to his personal torture chamber every second day. His master made a small, almost unnoticeable nod towards the shield, Markus walked over to it and picked it up. Put it on his left arm. It had gotten a lot easier to lift and use now. Even if it was torture of both mind of body. ”When will I learn how to use a sword?” – Markus asked when he stood in front of his master. ’Let’s see.’ His master jumped forward, once again having that stick in his hand. It hadn’t been there a moment ago! Markus hated sticks more than ever. That damn thing had cross his body more than once when his shield had been too slow to block it, but not this time. Markus quickly spun his body. The shield raised automatically and the stick harmlessly deflected off the hard surface. But Markus knew that that was not it, there would be more strikes following. But he saw them coming and turned his body and moved his left hand out to block and deflect the strikes. His master now picking up the speed. A stick was quicker than a shield and Markus soon found himself hard pressed to keep up his defense after his master unleashed a series of quick strikes and swings. Every time his shield met the stick head on. Sometimes in the nick of time, other times the stick hit the edge of his shield. Almost, but never penetrating his defense. Markus saw the blur of the stick come in from above, directly at his head. Markus raised the shield above his head. A feat he could not have done simply a third of a season ago. The edge of his shield hit the stick. Sending it flying up. Markus thought himself safe for a moment. But his master soon told him not to, for the stick soon found its way underneath his shield and hit him in the side of his chest. Markus felt the stinging blow and stumbled to the side. Soon regaining his stance. The pain giving him tears in the eyes. He was very happy that he had chosen to ask for some leather-ish armor to wear under his training clothes. Or else his ribs would have been broken there. Markus sent his master a glare filled with a deep seeded hatred. Markus gulped harshly. Feeling the rage form itself in his body. Making it hard for him to think clear. He so wanted to slam this shield against his masters head and throat until his master’s head was nothing but a red stain on the ground. Markus had felt the desire to hurt and maim people, even once let his rage use his body. But never, had he felt such a deep desire to tear someone apart limb by limb. He bit down harder. Suppressing the desire – yet again. ’What did you do wrong Markus?’ ”I was too slow to get my shield back down again after deflecting your strike.” ’Why?’ ”I didn’t think you could strike that fast.” ’That was your mistake, you underestimated me. Don’t do that again. Ever.’ There was a brief moment of silence between the two. Markus really felt the urge to slam the metal edge of the shield into Mason’s stupid sour face. ’Again’

[Markus Andres]

Almost a bell later and Markus’ body was drenched in sweat and he was quite smelly. Both his ears were in constant conflict of which could ring the loudest. A constant annoyance and distraction from the swift attacks from the sadistic trainer Markus had. Markus pulled his left shoulder back, felt the stick collide with the shield. This looked awfully a lot like his masters favorite combination. A quick left strike to get the shield out of the way, followed by an ever quicker stab at the exposed right side. Markus pulled the shield over, timing it rather excellently and blocked the stick and sent it wide off to the side. But at that moment, he was sick and tired of always being on the defensive. Being pressed into a position where he couldn’t do anything but swing his shield back and forth in an almost futile series of attempts to stall the inevitable. Sooner or later that stick would find an opening and Markus would be in pain. He had already felt it thrice that day. The first one on his shoulder. The next two had been on his legs. The place Markus had the most trouble defending, it seemed. His master must have sensed his distraction, for his attacks resumed, with a renewed vigor that took Markus by total surprise. He stumbled back and the shield vibrated and was constantly making loud clangs for every time the stick hit the shield. Markus saw the stick come directly at his guts, but his shield was off to the wrong side and it wouldn’t make it in time before – Markus spat out a mouthful, if not, lungful of air. The pain was intense. Almost too intense for his young frail body. ’Your mistake?’ Markus’ eyes were almost ablaze with hatred and pain. Tears had formed in the corners of his eyes. He had almost slipped then. Let his instinctive rage take over. Guide his body to destroying his master. ”Not being faster.” The stick swung out to punish the cocky student. But the shield was there, blocking the strike. To his masters surprise that was and then to his masters joy. For that meant his student was getting better. But his master didn’t stop there, when Markus was getting better, he could up the skill level a little and make it harder for Markus. The stick swung again and Markus, who was mightily annoyed with everything in that room, including his master. BUT ESPECIALLY THE STICK. He blocked the second swing of the stick with relative ease and saw a split second opening he decided to jump on. He stepped in closer to his master. Then swung the shield out to catch his master’s body with a shielded back hand. Also known as a shield bash. His master, for a moment dumbfounded, jumped back and away from his student. Surprised by the counter attack. Markus was annoyed that he had dodged the shield bash. It would have been such a satisfying sensation to hear his master scream in pain.

[Markus Andres]

Markus didn’t relent his offense just because of the initial failure to land a blow on the master. He rushed in after his master. Using the shield to cover most of his body, so only his head was sticking above the protective steel. His master was still recovering from the shock and quick retreat to react right away. Not expecting Markus to do something like this. His usual precise swings with the stick just flailed randomly at Markus. Easy to intercept, even though they were much harder to anticipate. He ducked his head down, feeling the stick hit the top of the shield. As Markus continued his rush. Feeling his shield hit something that gave away. Before running into the wall only a moment after. The collision sent Markus off to the side. His feet working their best to maintain a secure footing. After stumbling through a quarter of the room he stopped again and looked around for his master. Who was standing halfway across the room. Holding his left shoulder. Markus was pleased to see that he was in pain. It sent shivers of pleasure through him. A part of him was disgusted by the pleasure he took in seeing his master in pain, but the feeling was overwhelming. It felt so damn good! A sly smile replaced Markus’ angered expression. He charged forward again. Having recovered from hitting the wall. He was hastily getting closer to his master, when suddenly, the man clutching his arm changed. From looking injured and weak, he swiftly dodged to the side. Markus missed him by almost a whole foot. That was the last thing Markus recalled before he felt a swift thing across his neck. Sending him crashing to the floor and slidding across the damn stones. Many chimes later Markus woke up. Finding himself lying on a table of some sorts. The shield removed from his arm. He felt he missed it a little, a notion he pushed away. The shield might have aided him in the battle, but he would much much rather have a real weapon than a sheet of metal. ’Well done Markus. Next time we can start working with weapons. I hope by then you have put aside your childish anger.’ Markus groaned and put his head down against the table again. ”So, me attacking you back was what was required?” – Markus asked. Already knowing that that was the answer. ’No.’ He said holding up the stick. Or rather, holding up two sticks. ”Huh?” ’A little dense are we?’ ”I just recovered consciousness!” Markus responded with visible anger and pain throbbing in the front of his head. ’An enemy won’t care about that. Be ready to fight the moment your eyes open …. –’ Markus could see that this was turning into a lecture and he hadn’t gotten his question answered. What importance had a broken stick! ”Mason” – Slap. ”Ser Mason – What importance does the broken stick have!” ’When the stick broke, you have trained enough with the shield, to advance to introduce you to a weapon as well.’ To Markus that sounded immensely retarded. But he was too tired to fight about it. ’Now, come back tomorrow. You get the rest of the day off. I suggest you go see a healer.’ Markus pushed himself up from the table and left. Wondering what was wrong with his master. Clearly not well in his head. But Markus dismissed the thought and planned on enjoying the rest of the day. After he had been off to visit the healer. END

[Nisaba]

Grade Complete: XP Award! Name: Markus K. Andres   XP Award Observation- 1 XP Unarmed Combat- 1 XP Tactics- 3 XP Shield- 5 XP While Markus was going about his page duties, he spent some time looking around himself to make sure he was in the right place, which I felt deserved a point in observation. Upon meeting Mason, he seemed to lose control over his temper and charged into a fight, fists flying. That scene, while humorous, I thought also deserved a point in unarmed combat. Tactics received three points. The first came from when Markus charged at his new mentor a second time but changed his approach because he knew the consequences of his previous attack. The second point comes from how Markus learned his mentor’s favorite sequence of moves when attacking him with the stick, and the third is from Marcus’s use of a shield bash and charge toward his master. Markus worked very hard with his shield, and he worked hard for weeks- so I thought that deserved five points. You mentioned the various ways the shield was used, and you were very descriptive in your use of the shield.   Lore Award Follies of Being Stubborn Learning from Previous Mistakes Using a Heater Shield Turning Anger into Strength Nostalgia Over Being a Page The Benefits of Leather Armor Learning Self-Control Technique: Shield Bash Falling for Trickery Additional Note: I hope it's okay that I stole this from Dusk's office. I thoroughly enjoyed reading your flashback, Markus. There was very detailed action, with lots of mistakes and learning involved, which was very impressive. I also liked how you incorporated the emotions and thoughts that Markus was dealing with during that time, and how his reactions mirrored his feelings. I hope he gets his temper under control so that he can work his way up the Knights ranks, although I must say I got a few giggles from reading his outbursts and the consequences. If there is anything missing, please just let me know.