PM to join You Sure You Aren't Sick? (Treachery)

[Aventis]

6th of Spring, 515 AV. 3rd Bell.

Aventis had known that morning when he had gotten up that this night would be a late one and could only hope to Sylir it wasn't too much trouble. He had been awake now for over, by his rough estimate, twelve bells, which was by far one of his easier nights. For the time being he was standing alone in the Training Grounds, weighed down by a full suit of borrowed plate armor (save the lower two arms, as he couldn't find a way for them to be completely covered, so he settled for gauntlets) practicing his form. He had been doing so for a while, now, just to get used to the weight and the feel of his equipment. In his upper right hand he held his rapier, which was pointed towards the ground at the moment. His upper left, his shortsword, which was poised in forward attack position. In his bottom right, a shield, borrowed from the armory.

He stood opposite of a training dummy, holding his stance quietly, staring intently at the dummy. Quickly, doing his best to counter his own weight, he shifted his front foot forward and held his rapier outright, jabbing at the dummy. After performing the move successfully and holding the position for a moment before dragging himself back to his original position. Next in the rotation was a slash with his secondary weapon, which required yet another shift. He had practiced these moves until they were flawless and was done with it a few bells prior, but out of lack of better things to do, he continued.

The night was... Brisk. It was relaxing. It was the reason why sleep and dreams could go to Hai. He didn't need rest or repose.

There was work to be done.

[Treachery]

Despite his patron and the dorm chaperones' best efforts, Treachery still couldn't quite get the hang of getting to sleep at night. The darkness just always seemed to naturally awake his senses every time he tried, leaving him confused and exhausted most mornings. Honestly humans had the stupidest sleeping habits. Head stuffed under a pillow to block out the snores of his room mates, the zith sensed that it was nearing the third bell and sighed. Decided that he wasn't getting any sleep tonight no matter how hard he tried, his wings flapped the blankets off carefully. Tugging on some clothes, he grabbed his trusty Kopis on his way out, absent mindedly tossing his pillow in the direction of the loudest sleeper. Much to his disappointment they kept on snoring, albeit a bit more muffled now. Heading out of the dormitories towards the training grounds, his wings were kept firmly pressed against his back, lowered down to appear like a stiff cape to any one he encountered on his route. It was uncomfortable for him but lessened the risk of startling anyone. Luckily at this time there was no one to encounter, as he moved onwards up to the training grounds. Still a good way off from the entrance, the familiar clang and deep breathing of training reached him. My, my what was someone doing up at this time? Training no less. Suddenly recognising his opportunities, Treachery changed his stance relaxing his wings out as he crept closer to the grounds like he would if hunting prey. Peering around the corner, the zith's eyes immediately squinted against the light the torches cast. Holding up a hand to shade them, he could make out a figure dressed in armour. They were tall so maybe a knight? Wait, was that another set of arms? Two people or another person like Miss Six Arms? Straightening up, Treachery carefully made his way into the grounds. Circling around to the left of the person, people?, he stuck close to the patches that the torches missed, trying to keep his steps light and his wings from rustling. Eventually seeing only one set of legs and body for the four arms, he stopped. Keeping quiet as Four Arms practiced their stances against the dummy, Treachery watched how they moved carefully. Fighting grounded was a lot different from what he was used to. He had been trying to learning a lot but it had only been a season of work. Something the yukmen hunt had made quite clear to him. Maybe this person could give him some pointers, they seemed to know what they were doing at least. Thinking it over, Treachery half-stretched his wings and stepped into the more well lit area. Still not sure if he had been ignored or had just gone unnoticed, a clawed hand raised itself in a small wave towards Four Arms as the other fiddled with the Kopis strapped to his hip. “Hello.” OOCTreach has very poor stealth skills so feel free to notice him earlier than this or not. Entirely up to you.

[Aventis]

The Eypharian squire intently focused on his work, switching his stance intently, again and again. He had done this every night for the past few days, he knew he had to get better. He knew he had to improve. He needed, absolutely needed to be better, to be successful, to be strong. He needed to be strong. It was a necessity. It was his job, now. Perhaps the only thing he had. If he couldn’t have anything else to focus on, he damn well sure was going to be a great squire.

So here he was. Seemingly alone in the training grounds, doing his best to prepare himself for the next day, shifting his stance every three or so ticks. It was difficult work, it always was. The weight of the armor made him feel a hundred pounds heavier, but it was getting easier to compensate.

Aventis was dead focused on the stance, even daring to close his eyes as he did so. He knew tonight would be long and uneventful, but he didn’t mind.

“Hello.”

Aventis did not react in response. He knew the Training Grounds were frequented, even in the dead of night. Instead he simply kept his stance, took a deep breath, and switched it once again.

“Hello, Stranger.”