10th of Summer, 514.
The Antinous Training Grounds weren't a place for commoners, but the squirrel was a commoner no longer. He was a squire, and it meant that he could slip in almost entirely unnoticed - at least, with his patron by his side. Although, in truth, his patron wouldn't be training with him today. Iros wanted to go out and work for a while on his Lakan, and Arch was more than happy to try out a few things by himself. After all, there were still large holes in his training that needed to be filled. The largest of which was combat. Being a Pycon, and being surrounded with monks that were extremely well-versed in their combat skills but would only show them to beat you if you stepped out of line or got between them and another monk, meant that Arch had learned little in terms of combat around Nyka. Some, but not as much as he'd wished. He needed to make up for it, as quickly as possible. And where better to start than with his Py-Pole, amongst so many other training squires?
The squirrel was still trying to get used to using the large pole of flexible tree resin appropriately. It wobbled and flexed uncontrollably in his hands whenever he took a step, and if he ever wanted to use the metal tip at the very edge, he had to try and stop the thing from bouncing up and down in his hands first. Of course, he hoped to acquire the other two Pycon-specific weapons shortly.. after all, he'd be damned if he was going to try anything that humans had built for human tastes. He wanted to be known as a Pycon, not a clay human. Or better yet, a Pycon-Squirrel. It may have his patron rolling his eyes in disbelief but he'd be damned if he was going to give up his natural form to make everyone a little more comfortable.
As soon as he could, he hopped off towards the closest available wooden dummy. It was a rather stout thing with a wood base, covered in straw bags and filled with yet more straw, with basic arms and a head. Nothing fancy, but then again, it didn't need to be. One thing that struck him though was that it was tall. A full human height, possibly a bit more, with nothing for legs but a stout wooden pole - and that really made a drastic change to the squirrels tactics. He'd always gone for the ankles because they were the easy parts to go for - lowest to the ground and difficult to defend, meaning that they were almost always a guaranteed spot to knock down an opponent. The chest and the head were well-guarded and higher off the ground. He'd have to work more efficiently with his Py-Pole in order to reach all the way up there. And that would be a tall order. Literally.
Nevertheless, the squirrel tried. He backed up to give himself as much of a run as possible before making the jump, and readied the pole with both hands gripping tightly to cover as much of the Py-Pole's shaft as possible. He didn't want it to wobble unexpectedly right before the jump. Not that it didn't stop the thing from lurching around in his grip when he begun a quick jog towards the dummy. He felt like he was competing in pole-vaulting rather than combat, and the flaws were just oozing out of this technique faster than he could name them, but he knew they were there. Eventually, he stuck the metal tip as deep into the ground as he could and pressed down on the opposite end with bot paws, feeling the tension rising all the way down the length of the shaft, before it jerked again and nearly pulled the Pycon immediately off his feet. Nearly, though. Apparently he didn't put enough tension in. But then, he didn't want to. It felt a bit sheepish, trying to bend the stick to what he was certain should have been the breaking point.
But, he took a step forwards and the pressure increased until the thing was nearly jerking out of his hands.. and then.. oh. Oh damn. The whole thing sprung up much faster than expected and threw the squirrel off his feet, half-way up into the air to nearly thwack the dummy right on the face, never mind on the chest, but the squirrel had little control over his mid-air aiming in such a surprise position. The resin pole instead slapped on the shoulder of the dummy and stopped suddenly, lurching itself out of the squirrels hands and leaving him to tumble back to the floor and smack roughly on his own face. When he brought it up to try an answer to the small snickers around him, they only grew - his muzzle had been disfigured by the fall and was left squished up rather oddly against his own face. "Lousy.. squires.. they'd be laughed at too, if they tried it.." he begun to grumble and curse under his breath as he turned back to the pole and picked it off the floor. "They don't need to throw their entire body around, they can swing a sword.."
The Antinous Training Grounds weren't a place for commoners, but the squirrel was a commoner no longer. He was a squire, and it meant that he could slip in almost entirely unnoticed - at least, with his patron by his side. Although, in truth, his patron wouldn't be training with him today. Iros wanted to go out and work for a while on his Lakan, and Arch was more than happy to try out a few things by himself. After all, there were still large holes in his training that needed to be filled. The largest of which was combat. Being a Pycon, and being surrounded with monks that were extremely well-versed in their combat skills but would only show them to beat you if you stepped out of line or got between them and another monk, meant that Arch had learned little in terms of combat around Nyka. Some, but not as much as he'd wished. He needed to make up for it, as quickly as possible. And where better to start than with his Py-Pole, amongst so many other training squires?
The squirrel was still trying to get used to using the large pole of flexible tree resin appropriately. It wobbled and flexed uncontrollably in his hands whenever he took a step, and if he ever wanted to use the metal tip at the very edge, he had to try and stop the thing from bouncing up and down in his hands first. Of course, he hoped to acquire the other two Pycon-specific weapons shortly.. after all, he'd be damned if he was going to try anything that humans had built for human tastes. He wanted to be known as a Pycon, not a clay human. Or better yet, a Pycon-Squirrel. It may have his patron rolling his eyes in disbelief but he'd be damned if he was going to give up his natural form to make everyone a little more comfortable.
As soon as he could, he hopped off towards the closest available wooden dummy. It was a rather stout thing with a wood base, covered in straw bags and filled with yet more straw, with basic arms and a head. Nothing fancy, but then again, it didn't need to be. One thing that struck him though was that it was tall. A full human height, possibly a bit more, with nothing for legs but a stout wooden pole - and that really made a drastic change to the squirrels tactics. He'd always gone for the ankles because they were the easy parts to go for - lowest to the ground and difficult to defend, meaning that they were almost always a guaranteed spot to knock down an opponent. The chest and the head were well-guarded and higher off the ground. He'd have to work more efficiently with his Py-Pole in order to reach all the way up there. And that would be a tall order. Literally.
Nevertheless, the squirrel tried. He backed up to give himself as much of a run as possible before making the jump, and readied the pole with both hands gripping tightly to cover as much of the Py-Pole's shaft as possible. He didn't want it to wobble unexpectedly right before the jump. Not that it didn't stop the thing from lurching around in his grip when he begun a quick jog towards the dummy. He felt like he was competing in pole-vaulting rather than combat, and the flaws were just oozing out of this technique faster than he could name them, but he knew they were there. Eventually, he stuck the metal tip as deep into the ground as he could and pressed down on the opposite end with bot paws, feeling the tension rising all the way down the length of the shaft, before it jerked again and nearly pulled the Pycon immediately off his feet. Nearly, though. Apparently he didn't put enough tension in. But then, he didn't want to. It felt a bit sheepish, trying to bend the stick to what he was certain should have been the breaking point.
But, he took a step forwards and the pressure increased until the thing was nearly jerking out of his hands.. and then.. oh. Oh damn. The whole thing sprung up much faster than expected and threw the squirrel off his feet, half-way up into the air to nearly thwack the dummy right on the face, never mind on the chest, but the squirrel had little control over his mid-air aiming in such a surprise position. The resin pole instead slapped on the shoulder of the dummy and stopped suddenly, lurching itself out of the squirrels hands and leaving him to tumble back to the floor and smack roughly on his own face. When he brought it up to try an answer to the small snickers around him, they only grew - his muzzle had been disfigured by the fall and was left squished up rather oddly against his own face. "Lousy.. squires.. they'd be laughed at too, if they tried it.." he begun to grumble and curse under his breath as he turned back to the pole and picked it off the floor. "They don't need to throw their entire body around, they can swing a sword.."
