Flashback The Abomination and The Giant Purple Man (Dor'gen)

[Tinnok]

The Abomination and The Giant Purple Man
5th of Winter, 495 A.V.

The trill of a tanager skate across the Tempered Steel encampment just outside of Taloba's great walls. It was just light enough to see your hand in front of your face when a bleary eyed girl slipped from her hammock and tumbled gracelessly to the floor with a grunt. Despite the clumsiness of the beginning of her attempt, her narrow body curled up into a short tumble forward popping back up onto her feet in a brilliant recovery only to promptly slam her head into a post with a crack that left her dazed for several moments afterward.

Cursing and rubbing her head the girl glanced around. The place she resided in was a small back room, away from the rest of her clan, taking a few still dazed steps out into the yard she saw others waking and going about their morning chores. Scouting parties relieved each other, a few hunters were sent out, some men were grinding grains and plants to supplement any meat for breakfast and lunch, other children were carrying water buckets to boil over the fire, or clean clothes. Tinnok dashed out to grab a broom and began the process of sweeping each longhouse out, a time consuming task with so many, and one which was only the beginning of the pile of chores she'd have for the day. Eventually the other children would go off to schooling in the city, rarely would Tinnok ever join them, but for the most part she was grateful she didn't have to. Her days were inundated with endless tasks, but she was slowly learning that carrying the heavy water buckets, or scrubbing the longhouse floors, or even cleaning up the disgusting scraps of carved up animals was better than the looks she was given. The children that had grown up with her from the Tempered Steel were rarely ever...kind, but they tolerated her to certain extents based on the individual.

Every time she went into Taloba, however, it was only a matter of time till someone caught sight of her eyes, or the strange glint of her skin and then it was all over, she had yet to enter the city and not have some scene made, and since the last time...Krisha had basically ceased ever bringing Tinnok with her to the city...and the half breed did not mind one bit.

Done with the first longhouse and onto the second one, keen gold eyes caught a hulking form hauling water as easily as carrying a pile of ferns. Even in the low light she could make out the dark and different quality to his skin, like a shadow had been lifted up and shaped into a hulking male. She knew of Dor'gen, and that was as far as she knew, he was born from a Myrian mother, yet looked precisely like the giant blue men of a land far away, in a fantastical city that was ruled by men and not women, and that most Myrian females had some strong opinion of if brought up. She had once tried to ask Krisha of this land and received only silence for it. She was never sure how she felt about the giant man, who was nothing like a Myrian, yet carried their name. Did she feel badly, for he was normally treated better than herself? Was she glad that he, who as far as she could tell was much older than many in the clan, had found a home here? She paused, and truly these thoughts were for an older mind than the half breed child with a broom, the only real thoughts pervading her mind then were curious ones, of where the giant purple female women were, and where his pointed ears came from.

Getting a side glance from another child, Tinnok hurried into the next house, wistfully thinking about the free time she might get if she did enough tasks that someone felt a bit of sympathy for her, or simply ran out of things a young child could accomplish.

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[Dor'gen]

As dictated by hands divine, the light of day rose from beyond the horizon to cast light upon the Jungle. With beautiful radiance, Syna smiled down upon the dense green and woke those residing within. From beast to man, all stirred and arose from the sweet embrace of slumber; with each devoting their time to starting a new day on a good note. For the savage children of Myri, this meant gathering with one's clan for hunts, patrols with the Army, or working on one's craft throughout the day. On the furthermost edges of Taloba, the beating heart of the Myrians, laid the longhouse and residences of the Tempered Steel. Much akin to the whole of their people, all of their midst set about their morning tasks...including one who stuck out like a sore thumb.

Typically, those males of Myrian blood were dwarfed by the impressive stature of their female betters. However, this man was a divine contrast to the norm and was often looked down upon because of it. In truth, Myrian blood raced hot through his veins; yet there was also the blood of a distant race dilluting its purity. This caused him to be born in the form of an Akalak: tall, dark-skinned, menacing, and very much out of place in Taloba. Despite this all, Dor'gen had lived almost two centuries of faithfulness to the Myrian ways. He served diligently within the Taloban Army, bled in the name of his Goddess, and even denounced all that the Akalak race stood for. For some, this was enough to warrant some degree of acceptance...but never would he truly belong.

At least he wasn't alone.

Upon rising to begin his day, the Akalak began with the drawing of water from the local well. From there, he lugged numerous containers of fresh, drinking water up the hill towards the longhouse of the Tempered Steel; ultimately depositing them along the side where they belonged. Now free of this obligation, the Akalak noted that he had the rare luxury of an open space in his "schedule"; for his patrol was not set to begin until afternoon. While, typically, such time would be spent training or seeking wisdom at the feet of the clan elder, Dor'gen decided that he would attempt something different. This change would revolve around one who was small, yet bore the same weight of rejection that burdened his shoulders. The Akalak knew of Tinnok. In fact, it was his very existence that encouraged some in the clan to accept her being alive.

However, for as much as he had seen her treated poorly, he had ultimately failed to approach. Dor'gen knew exactly what it felt like to exist on the "outskirts" of the clan: to be blood, yet treated like an outsider. He knew the pain of lonliness and could have used a friend growing up...Yet why he did not offer Tinnok an escape from her own torment, he did not know. Drawing a breath, the Akalak strode calmly forward to the house within which the child swept. Placing a smile upon his lips, he then lowered himself to a crouch and gazed upon her at her level. "Tinnok. Why don't you come train with me today?" he said, extending his hand in a friendly gesture.

Thus far, they had known how it felt to be alone, yet that changed today.
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[Tinnok]

There were many things she was and was not expecting from this day. To get enough food, but the scraps left over when all the other children were fed. To have a bit of free time, but barely enough to either escape to the jungle before it got dark, or train. To get a mixture of pitying and hateful glances depending upon the mood of those around her.

When she met Dor'gen's eyes, however, their gazes met and though her heart rate increased she held it for an instant, young mind unsure of what the contact truly meant.

It took her a few ticks of returning to her sweeping to realize the heavy steps associated with the massive man had approached her, her specifically because she was most certainly alone in sweeping this particular source of lodging. To be quite sure, however, the girl glanced up with a mixture of awe and confusion at the Akalak, and then her head swiveled left and right, as far as she could manage in each direction before deciding that for true he was addressing her, a completely unnecessary check it would seem, as his deep voice made the rest clear.

There were several ticks of silence, her mouth having opened to say something, but not quite having the voice behind it as her thoughts raced fervently. The consequences of going with this man to train when her chores were surely only partially completed was a folly in itself. The immediate reward, if he was quite serious, could be eliminated by the hard stare of her mother, a swift back hand, and a missed meal.

Tinnok's life was punctuated by that classic fight or flight response when it came to situations that might do her harm. It was better to avoid her bretheren than socialize with them, endure her older sisters' berating and insulting her, rather than fight. But if only one sister was there...sometimes she could take them, if they insulted Rarik or Akua, it mattered very little to her how many she faced, for she would stand up for her two younger brothers in an instant, especially since one could barely walk. Was this situation worth running from, or was it worth fighting the consequences.

The cogs were working overtime in her mind, but slowly, the young half breed set her broom to the side, leaning it carefully against a wall and stretched out her hand, dwarfed by the massive Akalak's.

"I think that sounds good....Dor'gen" Never having addressed the large man before, the word cam out a bit uncertain.

Decision made a pleased smiled spread across generally taciturn features. And then new and wondrous thoughts began to pass in front of her, wondering what sorts of weapons the Akalak could teach her. She saw him carry large swords, something that had always appealed to her. Of course, daggers were much easier for Tinnok to hold and maintain, but soon she'd be bigger, and would need to know her way around such things, the idea excited her to no end.

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[Dor'gen]

The Akalak was well aware of the fact that the clan saw Tinnok as little more than a servant. She would be sent sweeping here, dusting there, and ordered to do all manner of busywork until the sun had set. Then, and only then, would she be fed the most basic scraps; thereby ensuring that she would live to sweep another day. For Dor'gen, to see this was...somewhat of a waste in his opinion. Although her blood had been soiled, she still had the ability to pick up a weapon and fight. Perhaps she could even join the Army someday and prove herself against the vermin of Zinrah. However, spending her days sweeping until supper was not going to bring about this potential future...unless he did something about it. So, he resolved to teach her; and whatever punishments that the clan saw fit to throw her way, he would intercept.

Such was his resolve.

As the youngling placed her hand in his and affirmed his suggestion, the smile that played upon his lips only grew. Rising, he kept her hand in his grasp lightly whilst ushering her out of the longhouse and onto the beaten path. It led away from the congregation Tempered Steel huts and would ultimately end at a clearing devoted to training. Now, while it paled in comparison to the main field utilized by the Army, it was the perfect place for a morning workout against clanmates. For the most part, Dor'gen led his little clan-sister along in silence; for his mind was contemplating exactly what he would show her today. She was too small to wield a bastard sword, which was his weapon of choice...but perhaps a dagger? No...She needed something larger. Something that she could grow into and that his knowledge of the bastard sword would translate into...

"Perhaps a shortsword? She seems tall enough to wield one." suggested Goa, the Akalak's "dark" sibling. Giving a mental nod of affirmation, Dor'gen could not have thought of a better choice. Her frame was such that she could easily wield one, and in the right hands a shortsword would be deadly; especially if it were a Myrian. Satisfied with this choice, Dor'gen ushered the young Tinnok along until they arrived at the clan's training field. Before them laid a small assortment of devices that they could utilize in their session; in addition to some practice tools strewn about. 'Twas then that Dor'gen relinquished his grasp of Tinnok's hand and lowered himself to a crouch once more, meeting her gaze directly once more.

"I've decided that I will teach you how to use a shortsword. To start, I'll show you the basics of all sword forms; so that you can build upon these as much as you like when you get better. Now then, there are a couple practice tools all about...grab one of the practice shortswords and we'll get started." he said. All the while, his tone was gentle and genuine; and when he had finished speaking the Akalak placed his hand atop her head. With a smile and a slight ruffle of the hair, he sent her off to retrieve the tool whilst he stood tall in order to inspect the nearest training dummy. "Yes...This one hasn't been beaten to all hell yet...It'll do." he remarked, taking a moment to draw his own bastard sword and hold it aloft.
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[Tinnok]

There were many things that transpired in those couple chimes that Tinnok couldn't quite translate. First of all, the almost delicate nature of Dor'gen's words, a certain kindness that she did not often receive to them. The physical contact, was also new, and strange, though not entirely unwelcome. They walked in tandem, Tinnok ignoring any glances that may or may not have been thrown their way until Dor'gen led them to the training clearing, of which she was quite familiar with.

Shortsword. At first the word rang of failure, in its name it described how it was not as long as regular swords, yet even Tinnok's youthful mind quickly disbanded these thoughts as Dor'gen continued speaking. From this simply sword, he would teach her the base for many other swords, and it was still longer and bigger than her daggers, of which she was slowly getting better with each and every day. She required a new challenge, and this seemed that it would be it.

Golden eyes scouted around the grounds, finding a barrel of the hard wood weapons that served as vicious practice batons, and sorting through them. She was finally able to find two potential short swords, each with dents and scrapes, and opted for one with a fairly new looking leather binding around the grip. She lifted it out of the container, turning it with only her wrist. This of course was lighter than it would be normally, but even still it was so much heavier than any of her daggers.

She turned to Dor'gen, who had seemed to have found an apt practice dummy. Tinnok didn't care for them much, as she was repeatedly told that real enemies never stood still, but there was no way she could simply fight the massive purple mountain that was Dor'gen...could she?

She walked cautiously over, placing the shortsword in her left hand, and gave a concise nod to Dor'gen, ready for whatever lessons he was about to impart.

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[Dor'gen]

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Whilst the youngest strode off in order to select the shortsword of her choosing, Dor'gen decided to test the mettle of the training dummy with a few practice swings. Backing up a single step, the Akalak gripped his bastard sword in both hands; achieving this by wrapping the fingers of his offhand about the bottom quarter of the hilt and the pommel. Taking aim, he raised the sword over his head and brought it down in a clean, vertical arch. With a thump, it collided with the burlap dummy's form. Of course, it did not penetrate through the material due to Dor'gen's only using enough effort to move the sword. He didn't want to utterly ruin the dummy he was to teach the youngling with, after all! From this point, Dor'gen raised the weapon once more and struck again.

This time, his sword moved in a diagonal arch which moved from the dummy's left shoulder down. Once more, the collision was characterized by a sound thump and the rustling of the dummy's form. Another strike! Whirling his blade and up and around the dummy's head, he repeated the diagonal slash. However, its trajectory moved from the right shoulder down and yielded the same solid thump as before. Just as Dor'gen had completed this attack, he noticed the approach of Tinnok out of the corner of his eye. He took a step back from the dummy and lowered his blade, allowing its tip to sink into the earth whilst he regarded her with a nod. "Excellent." he began, noting that she had selected a weapon she deemed fitting. Let's begin..."

In two, long strides the Akalak came to stand behind the young girl before he lowered himself to a crouch. He then reached out and gently wrapped his fingers around her wrist; guiding her hand so that her blade pointed directly at the dummy. "What I have to teach you is founded upon 'Vital Spots'. These are areas of the body where the sword can do the most damage. As a swordswoman, you'll need to quickly and effectively strike at these zones. The 'form' that I am going to show you is the most basic way of accomplishing this." he said, his tone gentle yet ripe with purpose. As he spoke, Dor'gen could not help but allow his lips to curve into a smile; for nostalgia struck out at him like a brick wall.

For as a child, it was his mother who recited this very same lesson into his young ears.

"Now then, while this particular form bears no name...let's call it Tinnok's Style." he said, chuckling lightly. Raising her wrist higher, the Akalak aimed the blade directly at the head of the dummy. He then moved it to the torso, the left arm, the right arm, the left leg, and finally the right leg. "Each of these is a Vital Spot. The Head is Spot 1, Torso is Spot 2, Left Arm Spot 3 and so on. With Tinnok's Style, you'll chain together strikes at these Spots with quick, sweeping motions. This particular method is very effective when facing against numerous opponents; or when combating a Dhani." With that said, Dor'gen relinquished his hold upon Tinnok's wrist and stood to his feet, gently giving her hair a soft ruffle once again before he stepped away.

He promptly retrieved his sword from where he left it impaled within the earth and held it before him. Aiming its blade at the dummy, he then made a trio of sweeping strikes upon its form. Head. Left Arm. Right Arm. Each strike flowed in rapid succession of the other and were accomplished through wide, sweeping blows. When the Akalak concluded his demonstration, he took a step back and motioned with his hand for Tinnok to step forward. "Now, you try little one. Show me your Style."

Word Count644
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[Tinnok]

She held the sword firmly in her hand, first in awe of the power of the Akalaks attacks, power which he was clearly reigning in in order not to damage the dummy beyond recognition. Each of his swings was slow, yet purposeful, with a simple grace.

She gazed at him warily as he came in close, taking her wrist and watching closely as Dor'gen took it and manipulated it in a demonstration of what she was to do. Head, torso, left arm, right arm, left leg, right leg. It seemed so simple, yet Tinnok knew this to be incorrect. Learning her daggers had not been simple, and even though she was determined to master her Longbow, she could barely string it currently, let alone shoot it at its full range. This would not be easy, Dor'gen was merely showing her the very beginnings of what to do with this sword. Vital Spots. She knew about these, just as she learned that the spot between your legs on males was much more effective to hit than their leg with a well placed kick. Of course...the damage a sword could do was in a whole different category.

Her hand was released so she could watch Dor'gen sweep his far larger sword in graceful arcs at the dummy. Chain together attacks. Attacks could be blocked, if they were all as one as Dor'gen showed, the chances would be less.

Still reeling from the amount of affection she was being shown, his own form, and all of this new information, there was a long moment of contemplation and silence that came from the half breed when Dor'gen gave her room to try out her own moves. She assessed the dummy, made to be appropriate for a full grown Myrian, and quite a sight taller than her currently. She could already hear her mother's voice in the back of her mind, chiding her for not yet formulated complaints about the dummy's height not being fair. Fights aren't fair. No they weren't, even apparently, one's fought against lifeless dummies.

Twisting her practice blade around again Tinnok first took a step back and tried a couple practice swings, sliding the blade side to side, then up and down, then diagonal strikes from up on high in either direction. Each stroke was clumsy, her arm not used to the weight of this new blade, and a hollow mimicry of Dor'gen's display. She swapped the blade to her right hand, swung once, then charged at the dummy, sword stabbing towards the lower stomach of the thing. As soon as her tip pressed against the hide flesh of the object, she dragged her blade down tip first tot he left leg, then drew her blade away making to swipe it horizontally across an approximation of where knee caps might have been, and instead just sort of whopping the thing upon the waist, awkwardly.

Grunting in disappointment the half breed took a step back, eyes downcast, waiting for the oncoming reprimand of her shoddy display.

Word Count509

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[Dor'gen]

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There was quite the curious expression plastered about the Akalak's face as he watched the young halfling unleash her flurry of blows upon the dummy. It was the expression of one who was being visited by a vision of the past. It had been well over a century since Dor'gen had been reminded of his own education in the way of the sword. He was only a child at that time, only a little bit older than Tinnok at that particular point in time. On that day, he had been roused from his slumber and taken to the training field by his mother; who then showed him the very same lesson that he now imparted to the little one. As he watched, there was a moment when the Akalak did not see the small child flailing away before the dummy...but saw himself.

With two hands the young Akalak wielded a wooden bastard sword and flailed relentlessly against the dummy. His form was absolutely terrible, his blows were weak, and the dummy looked no more damaged then as it had before he had started. However, this was where his path began...and he was immensely better now than then. In fact, as the old saying of wisdom went: "Practice makes Perfect." Keeping this saying fresh in the forefront of his mind, Dor'gen continued observing the progress of the young Tinnok. He carefully noted the movement of her body and how she needed to shift the blade from her left hand to her right after delivering several blows. Interestingly enough, the Akalak had never encountered one who (supposedly) utilized their left hand dominantly...

...Yet, the day was full of firsts.

When it was all said in done, Dor'gen saw what he was looking for. The point of asking her to attack the dummy at this point was not to expect some sort of flawless combination of blows; or any semblence of form. In fact, all that he was looking for was a pronounced focus on striking the Vital Spots; and not blind flailing. From what he saw, Tinnok did just that. Her strikes were now intentionally aimed for the Vital Spots, and not a single one strayed to an area that was not included in those he outlined. Satisfied to the core, the Akalak lowered his bastard sword to the earth once more. As he had done previously, its blade was promptly impaled within the earth so that it might stand on its own. Upon releasing his grasp from the hilt, he then noticed the...almost defeated look upon Tinnok's face.

Her eyes were downcast. A defeated grunt escaped her. No, this would not do.

Clapping his hands together once, the Akalak allowed an expression of sheer delight to claim his face for a moment. This was not forced in the slightest, for Tinnok had accomplished that which he was looking for after all. This physical expression of approval was only added to by his elated saying: "Well done, Tinnok!" Taking a step forward, Dor'gen lowered himself to a crouch once more so that he could look her directly in the eye. After all, it would have been...overkill...for her to have to stare all the way up at him every single time they spoke. Reaching out, he placed a hand on her shoulder encouragingly and said: "Now, I won't lie, your form is in need of development...But that is to be expected. You only just picked up the sword today. However! You did better than my first try."

As Dor'gen did not exactly have any close friends within Taloba, there were not any who knew this particular tale. Keeping the theme of "firsts", she would be the only one to hear of his first time formally learning the blade. "When I was your age," he began, "My mother showed me how to wield the sword. She was one of the best swordsman our Clan has ever produced. One day, she took me to this very field and taught me the very same lesson that I am teaching you. However, unlike you...I nearly hurled my sword halfway across the field during my first try. At least you managed to keep a hold on the damn thing." When he had finished the tale, the Akalak reached up and gently patted Tinnok upon the head; apparently making a habit of it.

"So don't give me that look. Be proud. You did better than I did!" he said, rising in the process. At that point, he took a moment to return to his bastard sword and free it from the ground. Effortlessly, he tugged the weapon out of the earth and held it aloft in his offhand whilst stepping closer to the dummy. "Now then...Since you are aware of the Vital Zones, we'll begin to work on specific moves that strike multiple zones at once. This first one..." he began, breaking off so that he might add a touch of creativity, "Shall be called...the Wild Strike. Yes, that sounds good." Offering a momentary grin, the Akalak then got serious. Placing both hands upon the hilt, he spaced his legs shoulder-width apart and stared intently at the dummy.

"Now then, watch closely." he said.

Taking a step forward, Dor'gen whipped his bastard sword across in a horizontal slash. It was rather quick; and he made certain not to utterly rend the dummy apart by using his sword's full length in the strike. In fact, he made certain that there was just enough space between he and the dummy so that the tip of the sword only grazed upon the burlap...rending a hole in the process. It wasn't large, but it did reveal the straw underneath. What's more, it was an...improvised indicator of what Dor'gen had in mind. "This particular cut is quick, so be sure to keep a good grip on your sword. Its purpose is to strike the left arm, torso, and right arm in one movement. In addition, if you are beset by more than one foe, you can broaden the strike to do damage to numerous opponents."

Once more, the Akalak then stepped aside and motioned for the young halfling to step forward. "Now you try. Show me your Wild Strike!"

Word Count1,046
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[Tinnok]

There was a wall in the young girl's mind, a wall that had slowly been erected as she realized how cruel those around her could be. She knew of her tainted blood, the stigma of it and how those like her were normally killed at birth. With this in mind it would seem as if she should be grateful for every breath she took, but at times she wondered why her mother had not killed her, not fully knowing the truth surrounding her birth and the clan's group decision to keep her alive. Her younger brothers often provided the only source of happiness she could find, that and the times when she could escape into the jungle, pretending Caiyha's arms surrounded her like the loving mother she never seemed to have. She had seen kindness exhibited to others, and very rarely to her, and so Dor'gens positive attitude and kindness towards her horrid first attempts to brandish a short sword were viewed in a very removed sense, part of her did not process his actions as being genuine, though they seemed very much so, the other part of her expected this attitude to give way to the typical response to her being at any moment, despite the fact that he too was unlike the rest of the clan.

As such her golden eyes slowly turned up towards him, lips parted slightly, eyebrows furrowed at his words, not responding as one might normally to his kind gestures and words. She wanted to enjoy his story, but she couldn't tell if he was being honest...or if something much more sinister was occurring, that look in ones eyes that was worse than the hatred and racism...pity, for which she had little of, but her experiences with it made her loathe it nonetheless.

Instead of trying to parcel out what his displays truly meant and if they would remain so, she nodded simply at his tale and focused in on the next task, Wild Stance.

Again she observed his smooth strike of his sword, watching as he sliced open the front of the dummy. One strike that could slice open multiple 'vital spots' indeed sounded useful, powerful, and again Tinnok viewed this dummy that was a bit too large for her, trying to figure out how to replicate Dor'gens sweeping strike when she was a good deal smaller than he was.

She glanced down at the sword in her hand, and another smile finally graced her face as she realized that the way she was holding the sword was sheer foolishness. Each hand got tired with the sword, but if she gripped it with both upon the hilt...She tried a couple horizontal swings this way, feeling a much surer grip upon the blade, and more powerful swings, then graced Dor'gen with a slightly uncertain grin of triumph, which transformed into determination when she looked back at the dummy looming above her.

Tinnok was not tall, not yet, nor as strong as the Akalak, but she was quick, light on her feet, and the strange inner workings of her mind were working furiously for a solution. She wanted to copy his strike, slicing to hit the arms and torso, in order to reach that area, however....

One step at a time Tinnok began to back up until she was a solid distance from her target. She held the blade of her shortsword directly in front of her, gripped tightly in both hands, then charged forward, feet kicking up the dirt of the yard. About five or six feet away from the target she lunged upwards, swinging the sword over her right shoulder and drawing it back across the dummy in an attempt at replication.

While her idea was in the right place, her calculations were far off, overshooting her jump she managed to club the dummy in the head, leaving it shaking for a few ticks as she tumbled to the ground, head first, legs kicking up over to find themselves back on the ground, pushing herself up with a little giggle.

"I hope I get to be as big as you one day, then I can reach all the spots too."

She wiped a bit of dust off and walked back to Dor'gen, unsure if she should try again, or he would have more instruction for her.
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[Dor'gen]

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This day was indeed one characterized by firsts.

It began with the intersection of two lives that, up until the present, had never interacted before. Although they shared the same suffering, never before had a bridge of any sort been build. Soon thereafter, the eldest of this pair found himself amazed by some of the traits demonstrated by the youngling he sought to teach. Unique in all ways, she even had a preference for the left hand over the right; something that was a rarity in the Akalak's experience. Now, finally, in the midst of the lesson...Dor'gen found himself impressed. From the moment of their arrival on the training field, one of the obstacles that Tinnok was having was simply the height of the dummy they were utilizing for practice. The sad reality of the situation was that the equipment available to them was sized to accommodate full-grown Myrians...not children.

This shortcoming was addressed by the trend of the Taloban culture; for children to be sent off to begin their Army training at a young age. At the feet of their instructors, they would be intructed with equipment that was specifically sized to accommodate the proportions of young bodies. Despite this challenge, Dor'gen had decided to proceed with his attempt to impart some of his knowledge to the young Tinnok; for the concepts he had to share could be practiced on an appropriate dummy on a later date. However, little did the Akalak know that the youngling would manage to surprise him. After demonstrating the "Wild Strike" upon the dummy, which caused tremors to claim its form for a few ticks, Dor'gen stepped back to allow Tinnok room.

Tasking her with repeating that which he had just demonstrated, he then impaled the tip of his bastard sword within the earth and folded his arms. His eyes became trained on the youngling's form as she backed up...and his eyebrow lofted ever so slightly as she took off in a run. Then, she leapt, cleared a few feet, and performed her wild strike against the head of the dummy. Now, while she was off-target by a considerable amount, she had managed to grasp the motion of the Strike nay perfectly. Plus, her improvisation was enough to cause the Akalak's lips to part in surprise! When she came down, her landing was less than graceful; but she picked herself up off the ground before Dor'gen could even react. Her first words, coupled with a smile, caused a light chuckle on Dor'gen's part.

However, before saying a word, there was only one appropriate response to that performance.

Dor'gen clapped his hands. He applauded the child for a tick or so before lowering himself to her level once more. "Color me impressed, Tinnok. That was beautiful!" he said with a genuine smile. "I like that you are able to think on your feet. That's a trait that'll help you survive, mark my words. Many have perished because they lack what you demonstrated just then; well done!" To add to this moment of praise, the Akalak reached up and gave her hair yet another light ruffle. By now, it was becoming clear that this was to be a signature of his moving forward. "Now then, someday you will be tall enough to hit all of the targets, but until that day comes, I think that you have just come up with a way to make due."

With that said, Dor'gen rose to his feet once more and took a moment to retrieve his bastard sword from the earth. Motioning for her to step out of the way, the Akalak then backed up several paces. His trek backward was only a few paces in comparison to what Tinnok had exhibited. After moving a sufficient distance, the Akalak held his blade at the ready...and took off in a sprint. His feet rapidly thundered upon the ground before he took off in a leap. Then, mimicking the action of the youngling, he launched a "Wild Strike" at the training dummy. Due to his height, Dor'gen was able to hit the target spot-on and larcerated the dummy across three vital zones. Straw stuck out of this incision, and Dor'gen nodded with satisfaction.

"Oh yes. This'll do greatly." he said, stepping back.

Taking a moment to return his bastard sword to the earth, the Akalak then looked to the youngling once more. "Looks like I'm not the only teacher here today, eh?" he began, giving Tinnok a small smile. "I want you to try it again. This time, attempt to aim for the chest. I think you'll be able to do so if you strike just a touch later than your initial strike, okay?" With that said, he motioned for the youngling to begin anew before folding his arms once more.

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