Completed [Bronze Woods] Home Again (Fallon]

[Rhuryc]

1 Summer, 513 AV Roads go ever, ever on, Over rock and under tree, By caves where never sun has shone, By streams that never find the sea; Rhuryc's deep baritone caroused along with the fauna of the Bronze Wood, his solitary tone caught up in a myriad of melodies interwoven into the solace of his nature driven path. An assortment of clinks and hi-jinks kept a steady percussive beat from various arrangements that the swordsman wore about his person; leathers kept his flesh concealed, gloves, a hefty, long tailed coat, set above a worn tunic and breaches beset by dirt and travel. At his side rested a sheathed bastard sword and on his back, beneath the assorted gear, a steel shield lay strapped to a single shoulder. He embodied the vagabond aesthetic, unshaven and with long, unkempt blond hair. Over snow by winter sown, And through the merry flowers of Sum, Over grass and over stone, And under mountains of the moon. He stepped along the off beaten path, his countenance alight with a jovial grin. The area was familiar. The trees wove with a cool breeze, the sun alight within the blue noon sky, and the lot of it together brought Rhuryc some means of peace. Years had passed since he was last within territory of his home city, a welcome, safe place that spurred his steps ever onward. Best of all there was a bed waiting there for him. His own bed, in his little hovel with its lackluster space and decorations. No matter. It would be a palace for tonight. Roads go ever ever on Under cloud and under star, Yet feet that wandering have gone Turn at last to home afar. He sang and allowed the fresh summer air to fill his nostrils. The crunch of flora beneath his boots, the deep browns and greens of the wood itself, it was all a symbol of peaceful tidings - for once. He passed through a particular thick cropping of trees and slipped by a particularly annoying thicket and into a clearing he was accustomed to, one that he oft favored for training and the occasional oddity. He paused and raised his gaze skyward. In the distance he could see the towers of Syliras, almost shining in their prideful glory. Mayhaps he would make it yet.

[Fallon]

Summer, it was at last Summer. Even though it was still only early days into the season, the squire had already taken herself away from the hustle and bustle of the city and into the cool of the Bronze Woods. The tulwar and kukri clattered in their scabbards, the low pant of her companion Orvin from behind. She had taken to a gentle jog at the moment, heavy foot fall marking her movement through the undergrowth and fauna, whilst legs strained in working to get over felled trees and the like. Muscles stretched and strained, the green became alive in her eyes with dirt and pollen ensnaring the senses.

The squire stopped for a moment, hands on her knees as she proceeded to catch her breath. Hands tugged at the leathers and coat, encouraging the air to circulate round. Orvin for the most part kept his distance from her, his eyes burrowing down on the back of her as he stared. How long had they been together now? Three seasons? Fallon shook her head and rubbed at her brow. It had been a long time indeed, and already a season had some and gone in Syliras. A season filled with training and remembering. The next season would no doubt be similar, little more than a blur wrapped up in stresses and strains. Fallon pushed herself off giving the world around her a quick glance over before giving a satisfied nod. Training was needed, and now she was out of sight of prying eyes and judgement of her peers she could truly focus. She drew the tulwar, her gloved hand wrapping around the hilt as she once more adjusted to it. She gave it a slash, and then let her fingers shuffle about and get comfortable.

“So let’s get this right,” she spoke at Orvin as she placed both feet firmly on the ground and bent her knees slightly “I need to keep the stance light… and nimble. Like so…” she rested on her toes as she continued to think out loud. The wolf just looked at her almost mockingly before he brought himself to settle beneath the shade of one of the trees. She brought her left arm behind her and held it there whilst she continued to adjust, “Sword facing… sword face… it’s this?” Fallon turned slightly on the spot and adjusted her stance.

And then she heard it, that low voice that filtered through. Of words of mountains and snow, of roads and wandering. Her ears twitched as she looked about, eyes searching for the source. The blade was lowered as she stooped, and made herself smaller. Shoulders hunched in, as she watched a man stand and stare upon the city. Warily she watched, quick steps on the ground leading her round and dipping quickly behind a cluster of trees. Occasionally she peered out, a moment of hesitation and uncertainty taking her. Was it a traveller? A bandit? Friend or Foe? Orvin in the meanwhile just released a sleepy yawn and continue to laze where he was. There was after all, no reason to move from his current resting spot even if Fallon did.
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[Rhuryc]

"Hm?" Rhuryc shifted his gaze from the city to the shade of the clearing. The wolf drew his attention, its lazy yawn clashing with the natural symphony of the wood. What an oddity. A solitary wolf? He turned toward the creature and watched it lounge, completely at ease with his presence. Tame, then. And no pack. And it wasn't trying to eat him. That was a pleasant change. "Hello there, pup." He smiled at the animal then made his way over. His bootsteps were surprisingly light with all that equipment. He paused at the edge of the shade and took to a knee, one hand extended and offered in peace with the promise of petting. He hovered there for a moment, waiting, allowing himself to be smelled should it be necessary. Otherwise he listened. There was something else in the clearing. The way the shadows fell behind the trees was off, different somehow, and beneath the quiet buzz of the natural fauna there was a peculiar shift. Breathing? Hmph. A trap maybe. Bandits. He did not so much as bother to reach for his weapon. "Is this your friend?" He spoke aloud to no one. "He's a handsome fellow."

[Fallon]

Fallon watched the stranger move towards the wolf, watching the light steps of him as he went past. She herself went ridged as he did, a momentary flash of worry sitting there. She watched him pause, and take a knee before the wolf. She felt her fingers flex around the hilt, her mind still deciding on whether to flee or fight. It would of been easier to run, but Orvin was here and she could not exactly abandon him. She shuffled a foot out of her hidding spot, feet crunching against the ground as she made a careful approach. He was a stranger, an armed stranger; she had to keep her guard up.

Orvin gave him a bemused look, eyes boring down upon the man as if contemplating something. Not that this moment of clarity seemed to last long. In a flash he was upon the man, throwing his full weight upon him and wiping a rough, slobbering tongue across his face with a quick yap of glee. His tail wagged, as all notions of lazing escaped and he bounced away to his master. He walked behind her, taking guard. Sort of. Being relatively aggressive and defensive had yet to properly settle in. A blessing perhaps, for it still gave her some time to train him and make sure he obeyed.

"His name is Orvin," Fallon spoke coolly, her free hand scratching behind the ear of the wolf "And handsome? That’s a first. He usually is called cute or adorable. Or sweet.” Her eyes snatched down to her companion for a moment “Seems you’re going up in the world.” He gave a snort, almost as if insulted by her observation and leaving the squire little more than stumped in what to do. There was still this rather ragged looking man after all, and her mind had yet to decide if he was friend or foe.
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[Rhuryc]

The crunch of flora may as well have been a warhorn in his ear. He glanced from the wolf to the source just as the creature leaped forward and took him in the chest, its paws resting on the fold of the leather coat and armor beneath. He always wore his armor during travel. So much for trust. When he hit the ground Rhuryc shifted his weight to land appropriately, rolling onto his back rather than falling flat. The motion came with ease. His hands followed and in a split instant they shifted from the wolf's neck to its head. The slobber was a pleasant surprise. Rhuryc grinned a chuckled as the wolf left him, though he managed to pet the creature once or twice before it did. His shoulders eased, the tension fading from his grip. To the trained eye it was evident that the man was prepared to snap the animal's neck had it truly threatened him. There was an odd layer of calm, and beneath it a strong, withheld sense of violence. He pushed himself up and met the young woman's gaze. She was too well dressed for a bandit, and her clothes weren't near dirty enough to live in the wilderness. In all she felt oddly scholarly. An armed scholar. But a scholar nonetheless. Odd. The differences between them were drastic. For one, he was unwashed. Very unwashed. He unconsciously scratched at his beard. When had he let himself grow a beard? "He's too grand a creature to be anything else." He nodded to the wolf and smiled at him before paying heed to his master. "I suppose then we're on with the introductions. I'm Rhuryc. And I imagine you're from the city, hm?"

[Fallon]

“I have to admit, I’m surprised you didn’t think he was going to fight you.”

Fallon stared down at Orvin’s latest victim. The ragged man who dared to approach the wolf. She was still torn between the idea of him being a bandit, a vagabond, a traveller or even a mercenary. His looks either way hid most of what he could have been with relative ease. For all she knew, he could have been a filthy rich merchant sent in from far off land who was roughly accosted by the less desirable people of the world. Of course, that was the imagination of the squire and even she knew that was very unlikely. She rested the blunt end of the Tulwar across the shoulder, eyebrow raised as he scratched at the beard that had formed there.

She met the green eyes for a moment, and then let her own trace around the rest of him. He was definitely a fighter of a sort, or at least made himself appear so. Her fingers stopped their scratching across the fur of Orvin, ears pricking at his question and his given name. She looked for a moment slightly surprised that he introduced himself so easily, and then she promptly remembered her manners.

“I suppose you could say that,” she gave a shrug “It is my current place of residence, and most likely will be for a while… Why do you ask? Curiosity? Or are you a traveller who is looking for the safety of the walls?” The blade was finally lowered and slid away into its scabbard. He did not seem to be an immediate threat, or if he was then he was good at hiding it. Trust worthy or not, Fallon still found it hard to keep her opinion under wraps, “You look like you need to be soaked and scoured for a day and a night.”
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[Rhuryc]

"Hm? Oh." Rhuryc shifted his gaze back to the distant towers. Longing crept up on his mind, a desire to settle himself down again. Perhaps for time. Though the emotion never so much as touched his face. "Curiosity. You don't have much in the way of supplies, and quite frankly, you're not dirty enough to be from anywhere else." He smiled at the young woman then went about unloading his gear. His pack came first. The motion was one of practice, a quick roll of the shoulder and he settled the lot of his various equipment aside, leaving him with little but his attire an armaments. Odd that. He seemed prepared to fight at a moment's notice. All the while he seemed unconcerned with brandished blade. Rhuryc scratched his beard again. "I suppose I do need a bath. I've been traveling for some time now. A rest seems well in order." He spoke as he sat, his backside lowered to the clearing with an unceremonious thud. "As a fellow Sylirian I hope you won't mind if I invade your spot for a while, hm? My legs are a bit tired."

[Fallon]

She gave him a regarding look. The squire could not exactly turn round and say no to him, nor did she want to move on. It was her spot for training after all, she had come here first. She did not have to move. Hunching in slightly, Fallon released a low shrug before forcing herself to answer, “No, sure, sit relax, do your… thing?” she gave a nod to Orvin, “I’ll just be right here. Trying to train. Don’t mind me. Actually, don’t watch. Just face that way.” Her finger pointed behind him, and then snapped away quickly. Shooing the wolf away she made herself space, ensuring that she would definitely be out of the way of the new potential observer. To begin with she planted both of her feet on the ground, and then slid them about so she found a stance to start with. She rose herself up onto the balls of her feet, and rocked there as she felt the tendons stretch and relax.

“Right, so keep yourself light. Keep yourself fast,” she mumbled to herself, and slid herself round so she stood sword arm was facing forwards and towards an invisible enemy “Minimise the target for them to hit. Make yourself smaller but flexible enough to defend. Need to stay light.” It was at that point that she hesitantly drew the blade, wincing at the grinding sound it made. She shot a quick glance at the observer, her shoulders hunching in as if slightly embarrassed, before finally she forced herself to continue “Arm back and out the way… sword arm forwards.”

Orvin stared at Rhuryc, his head low as he carefully padded towards the man and gave him a firm prod with a paw. For a tick he looked almost surprised, his head cocked to one side and his ears remaining perked. Or at least the look remained until he sat himself down and released a low, whining yawn. His master after all had turned once more to making an idiot of herself with poor footing and even poorer swordsman ship. Pursing her lips together she watched the tip sway slightly and then hesitantly jabbed with it. It was obvious she was not confident with it, but time would be the one to make her recover from her previous lacking abilities.
Gods, stop looking already! Stop it! Stop it! Stop it!
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[Rhuryc]

Rhuryc quirked a brow at the instruction. He stifled a chuckle and raised his arms, palms open, before he followed orders and turned himself about to allow the squire her freedom. Instead he busied himself with his pack, wrestling about inside until he removed an oddly shaped wooden spoon. He placed the implement into his mouth as a bit porridge appeared from nowhere and gulped down the contents in a single swallow. How odd. Of all the items on his person Rhuryc held this one in the highest regard. Magic wasn't all bad. As long as it fed you. The wolf drew his attention. He smiled and turned about - despite the young woman's early protest - to pet the creature, ruffling the fur on his head and scratching behind his ears. The motion reminded him of Atzi. Albeit, Orvin was no tiger, he was of the same noble stock. Rhuryc watched the wolf take to ease, lazing about while his master trained, an event he was hard pressed to ignore. A glance revealed the lack of technique, the unease with a blade. Not a scholar then. A squire, maybe? Or just a girl with a sword. The latter he could relate to. Sort of. He wasn't a girl. "Widen your stance." He quipped and leaned forward, enough so to push himself up. "And square your shoulders. Posture is just as important as movement." He adjusted his sword belt and removed the scabbard, careful to keep the blade unsheathed. There was no threat this way. To either of them. "Like this. Bend the elbow of your sword arm, keep it low, if you extend too far you're liable to get it cut off." While he spoke his body moved. He set into a stance almost by nature, his shoulders aligning with his feet, his chest faced out, his arm held aloft with the long blade kept at an angle toward the woman. He mirrored her. "You should learn how to stand before you learn how to move."

[Fallon]

Fallon flinched at the voice of Rhuryc, a moment of surprise flushing over her face as she stared at him. She watched him move showing her a better and obviously trained stance. Her lips pursed as she watched him mirror her, and then unfurl out into the correct stance. Resting back firmly on her feet, the squire chose to listen her head tilting slightly as she studied the new foot work. She rolled her shoulders back, her brow turning light as she corrected her feet to mimic. She straightened her back, her chest forced out in the process her eyes focusing on the tip of the tulwar as it wobbled.

“Like this?” she questioned as she bent the elbow slightly. Her free arm was still tucked behind her back, her fingers clenched shut. She felt stiff and uncomfortable, but that was the process of learning. She had to get use to new ways and different stances so she knew what was best for her. That and his words were correct, having her arm out straight meant she could lose a limb very quickly. Something that she – or anyone else for that matter – would most probably try to avoid. Meeting his gaze, Fallon rolled her shoulders back before giving a solid nod in understanding. She was sure she had done it right, though just as quickly did her certainty rise did it fall once more.

Her fingers wriggled along the hilt, adjusting and growing more comfortable. She became attentive to her stance, the hold on the blade tightening to stop the sway that her trembling arm was producing. Swinging a sword about wildly was one thing, but being able to do it with precision was another task all together. Breathing softly, she adjusted her weight, leaning more onto her front foot ready almost as if ready to spring off it and forward into a fight. She would not of course, she was no fighter. Not yet at least.
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