Solo Heavy Infantry

[Belugnir]

36th of Summer, 517 AV, Afternoon’s Fifth Bell, Beach Near the Port:

Einar had finally recovered from his injuries to a point where he decided going back to training wouldn’t run the risk of outright tearing his back open. Though he knew that he wasn’t yet in a state that’d allow him through a full day of restless exercise under the summer heat, especially not with his, as of late, just barely sufficient diet. So the lad only made his way back to the improvised training ground now, in the later afternoon hours.

Man was donned in his newest toy, a set of banded mail armor, modified with a set of roundel plates that provided additional protection for his joints all around, and to top that off, he had ordered the thing to be made with his exact measurements. Sure, it had cost him a small fortune when he commissioned for the set and its delivery at the Synchograph Office nearly two weeks ago, damn mages probably took a decent bit of tax for it too, however, after the recent beatings he experienced at the hands of a certain pirate captain prick, the claws of some Noktals, and not even to mention the memory of that sludge monstrosity that almost ate him a season ago, Einar found himself developing a whole new sort of need. One that by far overshadowed his base desire for gold, and drove him to nearly leave himself penniless for the sake of protection, and in this breath of wailing money about, he had also gone and found that barely supplied quartermaster golem and bought three new throwing daggers off of it to replace the ones he lost in his last visit to the Prairie.

Ein's new need also served to dismantle his original intent of leaving Sahova as soon as possible, and would most certainly drive him to pay several more visits to the oh-so-great library one of those days. And besides, he had free bloody accommodations in this damn place, glorified broom closet being far better than the dirty side of an alley, and not to mention that, when all’s said and done, the pay that he was receiving was… well decent in the least, and at least he didn’t have to worry about being robbed in the middle of the night. See, ya prick? Think positively for once. Heh. Ein sighed with heavy irony when thought went to the fact that he’ll probably be mauling, and trying not to be mauled by, a gods-know-what sort of unholy abomination before the week was through. Still, he was forcing himself to accept the island as bearable.

Having walked over and set up his training dummies, Ein left his poleaxe, waterskin, and the couple modest bites of food from the sack that usually rested on his hip in the sand and went to stretch himself some, still trying to get used to the extra weight that the armor brought with it. Thing wasn’t as heavy as he expected, nor as clunky, and he was able to get in it rather easily. Suppose paying for a decent smith to make this shyke wasn’t the worst idea I’ve had. Perhaps the set was a bit more uncomfortable thanks to the harness of throwing knives he strapped across his chest over the armor. Shyke would probably also get worse on a hot day, but, all minor inconveniences aside, it’ll keep him from getting ripped up by the next horse-sized monstrosity with limb-long claws, so he’d much rather get used to it soon as opposed to experiencing barely more comfortable combat scenarios that would end with him being maimed and, or killed by a thing as stupid as a motherpetchin’ Noktal. Seriously, why do those whoresons even exist? What sort of deranged hag-bugger woke up one day and decided ‘’Hey, know what this world needs more of? -- Man-sized, ravenous, feathery bastards with talons the size of a child’s forearm!’’?

[Belugnir]

After some five chimes of warming up, Einar decided to start things off with several jogging sequences. Normally he’d use one of the wooden beams as a weigh too, however the armor he now wore provided a rather sufficient replacement until he builds up some more muscle. The first two sessions went for a slightly faster paced and more taxing run along the beach, each session lasting for about five or so chimes, at which point Ein would feel his endurance waning and take a long break. Rinse and repeat about half a dozen times. Then, after an overly long pause, he went for lighter jogs that lasted for anywhere between a chime and two, recalling the words of the more muscular of his foster fathers. ''Alright ye little stupid. If you wan’ raw muscle and mass, ye need fewer long, hard exercises with long pauses ‘tween. Now if you wan’ leaner definition and speed, ye’ll wan’ many, many short, lighter exercises with shorter pauses.''

Einar planned to achieve both, well at least a reasonable combination of both. To build up enough muscle to allow him to pack a decent punch and to endure the strain of the armor somewhat better, yet he also wanted to be decently quick on his feet, and not become bulky enough to be unable to fit through a sodding doorframe. It had been about two bells of pure running exercises at the point where Ein concluded he should go back to his poleaxe. Weapon’s handle was about two inches shorter thanks to his now-not-so-recent fight with the pack of Noktals, not a big deal when the damn thing was still about as tall as the average man, but that was still two inches of steel less that he could bury into a bastard without exposing himself too much.

He decided to practice the fool’s guard for a while. Named such for the fact that the person taking the stance would hold their weapon with both hands, outward and with the weapon’s head practically touching the ground in front of them, seemingly leaving the wielder’s upper legs and body wide open for any form of attack. Point was, once the opponent launched their attack, you’d swiftly bring your weapon up, beat theirs to the side, and counter attack when they are left wide open by the momentum. Having a long-hafted, heavy-head weapon like the poleaxe would only ease the job, even though this was a stance primarily used by sword wielders. Ein kept recalling bits and pieces of the pointless histories of combat techniques that his foster fathers liked to prattle about. Knightly this, knightly that, Bugger the Petching came up with this, Whoreson the Gods-Awful was the first to use that. And so on and so forth. He swung his poleaxe’s head upwards, going for an immediate bash with the dull wooden end to the imaginary opponent’s head, before swinging the metal end of the weapon back down for a narrow chop. He practiced that single pair of movements for about twenty chimes with few pauses. Slowly he was getting used to the minor to moderate restrain of movement that his armor burdened him with. He also found it increasingly difficult to keep up his footwork and his breath under the otherwise perhaps decent control he had. Sure the thing wasn’t as heavy nor as uncomfortable and restraining as he originally expected, but that didn’t exactly make it a pair of silken shirts popped on one over the other.

[Belugnir]

After a somewhat longer pause for water and food, Ein went for another half a bell of poleaxe exercises, doing his usual rotations and combos, though not as many per session as he usually did, again, having his stamina drained faster due to the armor. Shove, bash, stab, shove bash stab. Parry, stab, retreat. Stab, retreat, stab. Over, and over and over again. He knew those exercises were practically useless when it came to fighting flying monstrosities or living heaps of sludge, but he couldn’t exactly go and practice hurling a wheelbarrow now, could he? Besides, he’ll eventually end up fighting another human being or the like again, and when that time comes, he’d rather have his muscles with an established memory and do the work by reflex, rather than him having to worry about his footwork and his breathing all the time.

Yet another slightly longer pause later, came about half a bell of practicing knife-hurling. And well, Ein found his aim had improved from piss-poor to just barely decent. At least against a stationary target, at a relatively close distance, and while he himself stood still. Gods help me if I know how I managed to nail that feathery bastard with one of those… After managing to nail down three hits in a row some four times over, he decided to spice the business up. Having taken some six to seven steps backwards from the wooden beams, Ein began throwing his daggers while walking sideways at a slow pace. Just barely hit a damn thing once, and only with the side of the knife at that, shyke bounced off like it was nobody’s business. Petchin’ born for this, I was. Man snorted, walking over with a shake of his head to pick up the daggers. By the time this new exercise had grown tiresome, he was just beginning to get used to the clumsiness that accompanied the armored gauntlets upon his hands, it wasn’t a big deal when he was stationary in relatively close range, but it did become bothersome now. After whole twenty chimes of this new knife throwing exercise, and a whopping seven barely worthwhile hits landed to the wooden beam, Ein decided he’d had enough for the time being.

His focus now went to the one ace he had when it came to any combat situation. Naturally he wanted to practice Flux, hell, learning proper usage of that sorcery with proper armor added to it would turn him into an outright monster when it came to close range combat. After a brief meditation, the man was rather content, comparing his current rate of attaining the empowered state of Flux as opposed to the first time he attempted it on this island, months ago. Still, as he recently made himself aware, this was but a fraction of the potential he had, a vague empowerment of strength and agility to a broad area of his body (namely his upper body), hell, it still wasn’t strong enough to actually cause backlash damage when striking an opponent bare-handed, much less so with leather paddling, chainmail, and plates of steel getting between his skin and whatever unfortunate mass he’d be pommeling at the time. So this time around he just barely focused on control, supposing it enough so not to drive his mind into overgiving. And after two one-minute sessions of practicing his rough unarmed fighting style on a wooden beam, he realized just how easily he could’ve driven his wit to wither without at least some precaution. While the armor made the slight possibility of backlash damage more or less invalid, and while the Flux empowerment, in turn, rendered the weight of the armor comparable to that of a silken coat, it all put too much strain on both Ein’s mind and body, and he soon found himself just barely keeping it all together. He still had to split his conscious mind in order to control all movement, breath, flux and even the diminished self-restriction was still a meaningful chore for him. Doing it all at once, even so briefly, went draining his stamina more than an hour of running did, not to mention that it rendered his actual movements rather sloppy and provided them with shameful openings for a possible opponent between, regardless of how stronger and faster each individual attack or attempt of defense would be. Sure, the armor could, again, compensate for those openings, but that was more reliant on luck than anything he had actual control over. Less than twenty bloody seconds… He panted, hazarding a guess at how much time he’d have to effectively go all out on a superior opponent with his current abilities.

The rest of his waterskin and some half a bell of lazily laying in the sand later, Ein would be on his way back to the Quarter, to take proper rest and ponder if he could come up with a meaningful way to try compensating for his current weaknesses with a cheaply prepared rune or two.

[Sayana]

Don't forget to edit/delete your grade request. If there's anything I may have missed, please PM me and I'll be happy to look into it.

 

Belugnir

Skills

• Endurance: 3
• Planning: 1
• Bodybuilding: 2
• Running: 1
• Weapon: Poleaxe: 2
• Tactics: 1
• Weapon: Dagger: 1
• Unarmed Combat: 1
• Flux: 1

Lores

• The Island of Sahova - bearable
• Bodybuilding: Fewer hard exercises vs many lighter exercises
• Tactics: The fool's guard
• Dagger: Throwing while walking
• Endurance: Training with armor

Miscellaneous

• I think you included all your new items in your ledger

Comments: A nice little thread. I enjoyed reading about the specific training exercises / routines he was doing. I was a little hesitant about giving you a point in Flux. Next time, try to talk more about the magic and the djed flow and the specifics of how he was using the flux to make certain parts of him stronger or faster while weakening other parts.

Your Grader,

Sayana

Boxcode design: Firenze