[Training Grounds] Built Isurian Tough (Jokor)

[Archon]

Season of Summer, Day 3, 511 AV It was early afternoon in the training grounds, and the one that Jokor had found his way to this day was occupied with just a small group of six lightly armored men and women, but they were sparring fiercely enough to make up for the lack of other people training in the room. Three, all men, were on one side of the room trading blows back and forth with short swords, and the other three, two men and a woman, were doing a two on one fight on the other side. All six were showing the signs of their hard work, sweating and breathing heavily, and judging by the various fresh cuts most of them bore they were not holding much back in their attacks. Least affected seemed to the the older looking bald man fighting the younger man and woman. Though he was sweating he showed only a couple shallow cuts on his cheek and arms as injury as he danced about with his dagger, despite the heavy scar over his right eye. Most of the group didn't seem to notice Jokor's entrance into the room, but the tall, scarred, bald man did. His icy blue eyes briefly touched on Jokor, but then returned to his two sparring partners. It almost seemed like the man's gaze was sizing Jokor up, and left as soon as the man found him lacking in any threat.

[Jokor]

Jokor stomped into one of the many training rooms, a pissed of scowl gracing his face and his mood clearly far underneath freezing point. Though the fact that the training room he was in was almost empty, barring a small group of knights or squires beating on each other up, did cheer him up a bit at least the chance that some overzealous squire tried to push him out because he thought he was a lost child was small, he wasn't in the mood for such antics and would probably try to castrate the person who tried it. As Jokor saw the tall and scarred man's gaze breefly flickering towards him before going back towards his fight an idea went on in jokor's head. Scarface there was the first one that he noticed in all the people who trained here who used a dagger and as far as he saw he wasn't half bad at it either. So why not try and get into a spar with him? No doubt that he could learn something usefull from him. He just needed him to get away from that spar he was in right now, or at least convince the group to let him join in the spar. Beating on a real person was a lot better for getting his frustrations out in the open then just slashing at a straw dummy. “Oy!” he tried getting their attention. “You three mind that I join the practice?” He said in the most polite tone that he could manage in his foul mood.

[Archon]

At Jokor's yell the younger man of the trio glanced back at him briefly, and in response the older bald man mad his move. Dashing with a speed that seemed impossible for even a young man he came up and slammed the handle of his dagger into the younger man's side, dropping him to the ground with a cry of pain. "Shyke," the woman with the spear swore as she tried to turn and face the bald man, but he was already dashing up inside her guard in the space of a blink. Pushing her spear aside with one hand he brought his dagger up against her neck with another, and growled, "Down." The woman dropped backwards to the ground, as if dead, frustration plain on her face. As she hit the hard stone floor with a thud the blad and scarred man turned and looked at Jokor, "You think you could spar with us, boy?" his blue eyes looked Jokor over again, and his mouth crinkled with a deep frown, "You barely look like you'd give a halfway decent Squire a hard time. What chance would you have against fully trained Knights?"

[Jokor]

Jokor just looked with a bit of awe as the scared man quickly took advantage of the younger man's distraction with such speeds that he didn't even think where possible and quickly took care of the other combatant in a few moments. What the hell did that guy go through to get as fast as that? Still he couldn't help to be a bit giddy for the sparring, sure he wouldn't be able to kick that guy to the curb but with no doubt that he could weasel out some lessons in how to fight with a dagger. When the man began talking down to him however Jokor had to resist the urge to throw one of his daggers at his head and just storm him here and now to show scarface who he was messing with. “Well shows what you knows.” Jokor snapped back, annoyance clearly audible in his voice. “While I probably ain't good enough to kick your ugly mug into the ground, I'm good enough to give Jaelyn and markus a hard time, I kicked another squire down a few pegs to.” The fact that he was able to defeat the squire because it was unarmed combat wasn't something that scarface needed to know in jokors opinion. “So I can hold my own enough to stay in the fight, at least to pick up a trick or two on how to fight with daggers from you anyway.”

[Archon]

"Fine," the man's voice was cold and hard as he replied back to Jokor, "I'll show you how skilled you are. Ronald and Ellen, spar each other." The man and woman responded to the bald man's command quickly, even though Ronald still groaned and held his side as he got up, and within a few moments they were trading blows once again. As the two got to work the bald man gave a small nod and then took up a ready stance. Dagger held loosely in his right hand the older man took a slow breath, "Boy, what's your name?" the man asked, and he seemed to be waiting for Jokor to respond and start the spar. As soon as Jokor opened his mouth to respond the man moved. He dashed forward, not with the unnatural speed of before, but still with speed at odds with his apparent age. He made little sound beyond the natural sounds of his body moving as he brought his dagger around in a quick slash aimed at Jokor's chest. He did not seem to be holding anything back with the short young man, but there was no sign of anger in his face or actions. In fact his face had shown very little emotion during the entire time Jokor had seen him.

[Jokor]

Jokor grinned as the man accepted his offer for a spar and pulled out his dagger, Slipping into something that didn't even resemble a stance for dagger fighting and more making him look like a thug with a knife. “You can call me Jo....” He was cut of as the scarred man dashed towards him as soon as he began to speak and slashed with his dagger at his chest, only his youth and reflexes honed throughout his life he could barely avoid it. Gritting his teeth in determination he planted his feet, as far as he knew he couldn't outrun the guy, the way he had been moving in that other spar was almost unnaturally fast. Still he wasn't going to give up without a damned fight! He sloppily lashed out with his dagger, aiming towards the man's lower abdomen, keeping his eyes on the man trying to see what the hell he was going to do next.

[Archon]

A quick shift of his arm and the old man brought his dagger around to deflect Jokor's own clumsy strike. A quick flourish of his wrist caused his dagger to to move about in a tight circle as Jokor's hand moved past, and the tip of the blade traced along the back of his hand. It was not a deep cut, but enough that blood started to seep from it. The scowl on the old man's face grew even deeper as he pressed the attack, unleashing a series of fast slashes that would force Jokor to either dodge backwards or receive half a dozen cuts along the lengths of his arms, "Have you even been trained in the use of a dagger, boy?" he asked as moved, his voice showing no real strain despite his flurry of attacks, "You'd have a hard time even skinning at cat at your current ability. Your patron must be a sad excuse for a Knight if they can't even train you in the basics."

[Jokor]

Jokor growled in frustration as the older man easily deflected his strike, immediately counterattacking and drawing a small cut on the back of his hand. Ignoring the stinging pain, letting out a short curse as he was forced to dodge backwards, even then the knight easily scored some shallow cuts on the lengths of his forearms. When the knight began to badmouth him and the knight that would have had to train him jokor couldn't help but let out a snigger at that. “Nobody thought me, I ain't even a petching squire.” He grasped the clasp on his cloak and unbuckled it quickly throwing the cloak in between him and the knight, ducking himself together he shielded his head with his arms, said a mental prayer to kelwyn and tried to ram himself into the knight, hoping to take advantage form the surprise hoping that it worked.

[Archon]

The old man didn't say anything in response to Jokor's words, but his lips did seem to curve down a little in displeasure. Other than that slight twitch in his expression the man didn't seem to move as Jokor unfastened his cloak and tossed it towards him. To Jokor's eyes it might have looked like his plan had a chance of succeeding, but it didn't take him long to realize it had not. His charge forward met with no resistance, and when his cloak fell to the floor the Knight seemed to have vanished. Just as Jokor realized this his world shook as the pommel of the Knight's dagger smashed into the back of his head with enough force to blur Jokor's vision and make him stagger forward several steps. "Then what's your purpose, boy?" the scarred man growled as he stood at the ready, waiting for Jokor's next attack, "Why learn the dagger if not to fight? Why train with Knights if not to become one? Everyone is Syliras has their place, what purpose does your life serve?"

[Jokor]

A small grin slipped on jokors face as he thought he had the man by surprise, though that expression quickly made way for confusion as he only hit air then for a grimace of pain as the pommel of the dagger smashed into his head. Stumbling for a few seconds to regain his balance before he turned around and looked at the man with a look of complete and utter atonishment before regaining his composure. “How in the name of kelwyn did ya get that petching fast?” he just managed to say. When the knight didn't answer and just asked what his purpose was. Jokor just scowled at the knight. “Why I learn to fight? Now that simple, those who can't take care of themselves are trampled underneath and I don't have any ambition to get kicked in the head by somebody else's boot every day.” Jokor scoffed, trying to stall as he slowly got rid of the stars darting in front of his eyes. “And I don't know what purpose I am going to serve, but I know its going to be one of mine!” He quickly darted forwards, futily hoping to catch him this time.