Completed The Practical Application. Crystal Elephants (Roderick)

[Bolivar]

5th of Fall, 513 AV There was a hush calm outside the city walls of Syliras. Far enough so that one can hear himself think with little to interrupt him but the occasional sound from a distressed critter running. To the right of him Syliras was in view of him from afar city walls and foreboding stillness. Opposite were the fields of crops and grains to supply the city along with the watchtower still quite a distance away. His bags were with the horse, now pitched and carelessly grazing near the road. A slow breathe followed another until the squire found himself wrinkling his nose with displeasure. "Still does not make this anymore acceptable." Though the scene was calm and the mood serene, adrenaline was pumping through the squire's as his mind raced for an answer. Only a few chimes in and already Bolivar found himself at a lost what to do. Normally the slight chill of the season was appreciated by the mixed blood but for the first time it hindered him. Patches of wet grass littered the area all around him as Bolivar quietly looked for an answer to his query. The field Bolivar found himself was "resting" this season. The ground was given time to rest before the next season came in and new seeds were put into the soil. Something about drinking in the world's energy, it didn't matter. In any case what Bolivar was doing might have been helping it recover for all he knew. It was not something that he dwelled on for longer then the first few tics. "Quite the elephant now that I look at it from afar." Looking at his horse, Bolivar received only silence from his training steed. Closing his eyes deep in thought Bolivar only can wish to find an answer by the end of the session. His mind was not letting him have peace until a resolution came to this slight oversight. Who knows? Maybe if he did not figure it out perhaps the squire would find himself slain at the hands of an unforgiving foe. Being a squire meant being in a constant struggle to understand what it was to be a knight and how to perform as one. Of course horse riding was the other obvious problem Bolivar was facing but perhaps he could concentrate a bit better when he figured this out. Choosing a field was a great idea. No need to give a warning when there is one all around you. All around him patches of wet grass littered the area. Getting up from his short escape Bolivar held his battle axe up in his typical ready position. He found his mind wandering, hands shaking and focus lacking. Moments later a meager display was performed by the squire, almost looking questioning him on what to do. Finding a practical use for this was going to take awhile.

[Roderick]

With a sniff Roderick passed by a hedge and further into the open space outside the city; he felt like he was suffering the beginnings of a cold; the prospect of dealing with all the headaches that might follow that set his mouth in an irritated line. Sniffing again he moved ever further outside the city, nearing open fields. At this time of year a fair number of them were bare; the frost would set in soon, killing off anything that wasn't strong enough. A slight breeze was beginning to grow, ruffling his hair and tickling at his face and neck. It also helped bring a chill about his skin. Pulling his cloak tighter to his body and closer to his neck he rubbed at his arms - unprotected by his spaulders that day - and thought sourly about how much better summer was. Turning his gaze idly towards one of the many open fields, he saw a figure standing in the middle of it, patches of wetness scattered all about the place. The man - assumed from what little detail he could make out - was carrying an axe and occasionally slipped into one stance or another, swinging his weapon around. Nothing unusual there. Roderick kept watching the sight for a while longer, continuing his walk as he did. If not for the sound of a hoof clicking against stone followed by a loud, obnoxious snort, he'd have walked straight into the horse. The animal gave him a rather dirty look and stomped its hoof on the ground again, giving another snort. Done with its tantrum it eyed him suspiciously a second time, then seemed to lose interest when he turned away from it; bending its neck to the ground the horse started ripping up some of the grass that was growing in the area, calmly munching its way through its snack while eyeing Roderick casually. The hunter lingered for a while longer, watching the fighter as he again started a sequence of moves before breaking away from then and standing still again. Scratching his head, the hunter wondered if he should stay and watch for a little while, maybe even exchange talk with the fellow, or if he should turn around and leave the field in search of something else to do. The decision to leave his bow behind was beginning to prove a bad one, since he'd have to return to the city to collect it from his apartment - something he couldn't be bothered with, since he was already out here. It seemed he was restricted to exploring the area just outside the city with nothing more than a dagger at hand. Again he wondered if he should stay or go.

[Bolivar]

It did not take any special training to make a horse act up when it senses something amiss. Perhaps it was his steed's natural inclination to do so. In any case the horse's predisposition only needed the stranger's arrival to cause it to bray and neigh it's warning soon after. Bolivar's eyes moved first. Soon after the squire understood the jist of what had transpired. The horse was not on friendly terms with Bolivar himself, what more if it was an unfamiliar face or large animal? There is someone nearby? Was it not obvious enough now was not the time to approach? Perhaps subtlety was still lost on some of the people in the region. This would be noteworthy if he ever talked to the Isurians in Sultros again. There was a virtue that had to be tested here. Which one was it? Tolerance? No. Patience. Or was it generosity and integrity? They can all be applied here it seemed. Perhaps a knight's demeanor should symbolize all of the virtues at once. "Right. Now I am to entertain any company I come across?" It would be easy. After all I do have such a tool for such hovering close by. Listening quietly Bolivar faced forward for a tic longer before forcing himself back up. Gripping his axe near the head Bolivar made a whipping motion with his left arm causing water to spray haphazardly in front of him. Turning to greet the stranger Bolivar pursed his lips in a tight line before starting towards the other man. Perhaps it was someone from the Knights with a message. Bolivar's gaze did not falter as he paced towards taller man. An acceptable distance was found with the squire glancing straight at the rooster headed fellow. Taking in the visitor's rather unique appearance Bolivar found he had to take measures not to look dismissive regarding Roderick. Granted he might have had a look that was easy to remember but was that really such a good thing? "Speak." Easing up his stance Bolivar readjusted his gloves trying not to come off too unsociable. Perhaps the squire would act aloof like he had seen others do. It was a squire and knight's duty alike to help Syliras and it's citizens after all. The man chose to approach him in a way that made it easy to notice. Bolivar's horse muttered it's warning and yet the stranger found it necessary to watch still. "Was there something of importance you wish to share?"

[Roderick]

Roderick felt the stranger's eyes brushing over the top of his head - nothing strange there; he was used to receiving the occasional look from random passersby. On another note the man he was talking to certainly made certain his hair was washed and well groomed. The hunter's hair was hardly the filthiest thing in the world, but he was pretty sure it was better than most. "Speak." Holding an axe when talking to someone gives off all the wrong impressions - especially when you're being hostile. The tension in the air was extremely noticeable and Roderick felt all of his muscles grow taut as his heartbeat sped up. Despite relaxing slightly Roderick still knew the man wasn't very pleased to see him; the man's hostility was practically burning his skin. The wind whispered and hissed about them and the hunter's fingers drummed absently against the leather of his belt, while his remained completely still, watching the other fellow just as fiercely as Roderick himself was being watched. Behind him the horse snorted loudly. "Was there something of importance you wish to share?" Blinking down at the axe-wielding man, the hunter's tongue acted of its own accord, "Vicious little man, aren't you?" It's about time I practiced at keeping my mouth shut. "Man can't go for a walk without being interrogated?" he shrugged his shoulders absently, relaxing his shoulders and looking around the area for a few tics before returning his gaze to the axeman, "A fellow swinging an axe around in a field isn't something I see everyday." He looked at the weapon again, willing the man to put the thing away, or to at least adjust his grip so he didn't seem quite so willing to bury into Rod's head, "Its been a slow day for me. You're the most interesting thing I've seen all day." Scratching his head, the hunter looked away to the side to see the horse staring him down; he locked eyes with it for a moment, then turned back to the man, "Something tells me your horse doesn't like me." He commented.

[Bolivar]

It did not seem the stranger had anything important to say. Nor a even a good reason to be near the squire. Perhaps this was the person's field and he was wondering what he was doing? That did not seem likely. Bolivar listened to the rooster headed fellow's words, sharpening his gaze at the abuse. Opting to let Roderick have his fun at his expense, Bolivar kept the Syliran's demeanor and tone in mind for later. Correcting the stranger's initial speculations would have to come later. Simply having a weapon did not mean you were using it. The reason for Roderick's soon revealed itself along with any hope of a normal conversation. The thought of him practicing his virtues dismissed a learning that it was for mere entertainment he had been slighted. Small talk with a small man. That was what came to mind when it came to these occurrences. Now confronted with the squire it seemed the man almost seemed skittish at the prospect of taking responsibility for his words. Shying away from the mixed blood's gaze even to the point of looking at his horse for sympathy. Roderick will find no such thing from that mean horse. "You seem quite done. I'll stop your riveting drivel before you come up with more." Bolivar's eyes shifted into a more dismissive look as his tone followed suit. The worst of his fury passing Bolivar quickly chanted the need for patience regarding those the squire had been charged to watch over. The horse gave a short rustle as if in approval of Bolivar's inner thoughts. Though that seemed unlikely the more he thought about it. "I'm guessing you have lived in Syliras for some time. You need to carry yourself higher ser. Lest you might be mistaken as the trash deemed unworthy to live inside the city walls." Requiring little more then his regular disposition Bolivar hoped his words gave little room to argue with. If the squire found himself unable to mitigate the words of a stranger just because of his stature there was more work to be done on his part.

[Roderick]

Grinding his teeth at the shorter man's manner, the hunter chewed on his tongue to keep it still; snapping back would only add fuel to the fire. A massive effort was involved in keeping silent at what the man said next, "You seem quite done. I'll stop your riveting drivel before you come up with more." He bit down a little harder on his tongue and started drumming his fingers against his belt again, staring at the man flatly. If this had been happening back in the summer, he knew he would have reacted badly to this by now. But he'd slowly, without meaning to, worked his way out of being quite so volatile; his meetings with a certain Kelvic had been much worse than this; the words they'd exchanged and the things that had happened between the two made everything that the small man had said paled in comparison. Moving his weight about, the man in front of the hunter began to look increasingly bored and uninterested; the threat of his weapon was gone now, replaced with a dismissive look. Rustling behind him as the horse moved about. He spoke with authority, his voicing commanding. Obey. Damn it, listen to him. "Sorry, good squire," he said, trying to sound like he meant it, though most likely he failed horribly at it, "You are a squire, right?" somewhere in his head a voice told him to turn around and walk away right then and there, but then he'd always veered between listening to that little voice and ignoring it - he did whatever he felt like doing at the time. A bad trait all told. Either way the reason he didn't leave had something more to do with a bad attitude towards being dismissed by this dismissive little man than any solid idea or concept OOCHow delightfully awkward

[Bolivar]

Little time was left to be wasted it felt. Though Bolivar had plenty of time to pack and set for the city he felt his free time ambushed by the stranger. Was there anyway to settle this faster? This man in particular seemed to be particular unwilling to get the hint. A stroke of comprehension from Roderick proved itself as an interesting change of pace for the squire. “Excuse me?” Raising his eyebrow in mock indignation Bolivar made it clear he thought the question absurd. Perhaps it was to test the man's faith in his judgement. Perhaps another time he would revisit the subject once again but for now no. Bolivar was not to be a squire in this man's eyes. Not until he would respect him without the title. “Right now I am just someone you insulted outside your city walls. Someone who is smart enough to know your race's mannerisms and skilled enough to hold my own when dealing with them. It would be wise to avoid such foolish notions of demeaning others if you yourself are lacking.” I feel I am becoming an obstinate sight for this man. Keeping his gaze even on Roderick Bolivar knew how it had to be with those outside of Sultros. Perhaps it was the blood in his veins that kept him steadfast but he definitely made his conviction his own. “I know the score Syliran. I am not so easy as to shy away from this. You think me short? I think you are among the tallest cumbersome looking that still calls itself human. You are human right?” Perhaps the last few words with the vindictive tone was not necessary but damn did it felt good. Squires were allowed to have bad days and Bolivar was not in the mood to receive guests today. Especially while he found his mind slipping during the most peaceful stages of the day. Sylir bestow compassion! I need to get these lingering thoughts out of my head. Simply find the solution for this to this odd enigma of a form to satisfy this disruptive daydream. Breathing out a slowed practiced breathe Bolivar focused once more on the person before him. What were they discussing? Nothing good seeing as he found himself irate. Was he not suppose to find a way to make the citizenship productive somehow? “I am simply watering the field until it is time to go back in ser. I have yet to even use this axe for anything other then a stand. You can can help by kindly leaving me be. If you were looking for some water you just had to ask. All the water skins and container are with the horse.” OOCWill the 5th be an appropriate day for you?

[Roderick]

“I think you are among the tallest cumbersome looking that still calls itself human. You are human right?" At the very least the man had a sense of humour - at least as much as the insult could count for one. Stay or go. Talk or walk. A good mantra to live by, he thought, though he'd probably cringe at it after a few days. All this talk wasn't bringing him any closer to realizing why he was staying in the field instead of continuing his walk. It certainly wasn't out of any kind of enjoyment he got from talking with this man. Maybe it was more to do with how the man was reacting? That seemed a likely thing, especially since he'd decided not to stay precisely because the other man had been ordering him around. Annoying the squire was an idea that was steadily rooting itself in Roderick's brain. He stared the other man down calmly, clamping his mouth shut to keep a yawn from bursting free; it seemed likely the squire would bring that to bear in this little talk of theirs - though that was certainly a bad choice of words. "If you were looking for some water you just had to ask. All the water skins and containers are with the horse." Watering? That horse couldn't be carrying enough water to cover this entire field. What's he talking about? Roderick frowned - more to do with his confusion about the statement than him being angry - and absently crossed his arms as he thought it over for a few tics, "What do you mean you're watering the field? This is hardly the time of year for that." Now the urge to annoy the squire was bleeding away, its foundations rotting and crumbling. Soon it was replaced by curiosity; he'd had a feeling earlier that something odd was happening, but now that his suspicions were growing, he began wondering more strongly. Suddenly he found himself staying for an entirely different reason. OOCThe 5th is fine

[Bolivar]

The squire felt a sudden urge to take off gloves hearing Roderick questioned him. To discriminate him at every turn. Bolivar had yet to experience a person so tenacious outside of Sultros. The irate feeling he normally felt when dealing with such a person was offset by him not being an actual Isur. If it came down to it he would have a better chance dealing with Roderick then his kin. "Something tells me you are looking for any excuse to keep this up. You've been living too comfortably if you think you can harass me any longer." His patience was running thin. His honor was challenged by the other's first words. His tolerance for country folk strained. His integrity being challenged by the man's last words. His generosity was all Bolivar had to touch on with the stranger. Generously teaching Roderick a lesson over and over again seemed to appeal to the squire. Rubbing his thumb against his palm Bolivar quickly flicked his glove off his left hand in a practiced manner. Bolivar went through the usual motions of using his left hand as a focus point for his djed. The words he spoke next carried with them the emotion to fully carry out said threat. "That is enough out of you. If you are looking for a fight all along I'm more then happy to oblige now. A day or two in the tank will remind you how to talk to your betters." Taking two measured strides towards Roderick Bolivar moved to seize the man's shirt. Bringing him down to face level would hopefully cut out any resistance Roderick had to say. Bolivar wanted nothing more then to test his ingenuity with his res but it looked like he had to settle for a clash of wills against this man.

[Roderick]

Roderick was glad he'd chosen to wear his armour today; the leather he'd bought in the summer, and a new piece of lamellar he'd gotten a few days ago. The leather would help protect him against any clubbing blows he took - helpful against the weight of the squire's axe - but it would be ripped to shreds if one of the weapons edges caught hold of it. His lamellar was intended to protect him from any slashing blade that might come his way, but considering the squire's choice of arms he figured the metal armour would probably be dented and smashed before it could provide him any proper protection. As the squire took his left glove off the hunter felt his own slowly gravitating towards his back, reaching for his dagger. When he spoke the squire did not sound pleased at all. The authority had returned to his voice, his tone commanding and stern, as though he were lecturing a child, rather than talking to a full grown man that was close to drawing a blade on him. Betters? Striding forwards the squire made to grab the hunter's shirt, while Roderick's hand tightened around the hilt of his dagger. As his hand drew near the Zeltivan reached up and caught hold of the man's wrist with his free hand, closing his fingers around the squire's flesh and clutching to the limb firmly. He stopped when he caught sight of the colour of the squire's flesh; there was a slight sheen of emerald to it. He remembered hearing about this sort of thing, though for a few tics what it meant escaped him. What he did know was that there was only a slight sheen of it to the squire's skin, rather than a proper hue. Roderick ran his mind over those races that might have skin of that colour. When it finally clicked he hid a surprised look. He's not a human... "You're a half-blood, aren't you? Half Isur? Explains why we've been smacking heads together." He knew enough about Isur to know they had one arm that was a different colour to the rest of their body, which had something to do with which clan they belonged to. Beyond that he knew nothing about them, other than that purebloods had a fully coloured arm while those mixed with other races only had a slight tinge to their skin - similar to this man. "This day keeps getting more and more interesting, doesn't it?" The tone of his voice was laced with curiosity and interest now, hostility all but banished from his mind as he looked on the situation with a different eye. It seemed it was about time he left, though; the squire was very clearly on the verge of trying to arrest him.