Closed [Barracks] Sylir's Country

An open conference takes place.

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This shining population center is considered the jewel of The Sylira Region. Home of the vast majority of Mizahar's population, Syliras is nestled in a quiet, sprawling valley on the shores of the Suvan Sea. [Lore]

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[Barracks] Sylir's Country

Postby Imass on March 4th, 2016, 12:29 am

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Spring 61, 516 AV Mid-Afternoon
Upon Ser Imass' arrival in Syliras, the news spread around rather quickly among the Order to those with an ear for such matters. Otherwise it was business as usual. A lost knight returning from imprisonment was notable indeed, but Imass was low ranking and his deeds of glory went unknown to his brethren. Captain Lance Stalinsa had remember the Zealot though, as he had lead him during the assault on Sahova. The officer immediately called for a meeting as soon as Imass was fed and clean; the meeting was an open one as any decisions being made would be public regardless.

The Akalak was issued a fresh pair of boots, undergarments, a wide belt, pants, and a long-sleeved linen tunic (which he tucked into his pants). He wore his long dark hair in a ponytail and his beard was freshly trimmed. The Captain insisted that he attend the meeting not looking disheveled despite years of Nuit subjugation.

After having eaten his first proper meal in over three years, Imass approached the Officer Conference Quarters. The guards at the door already knew he was coming, "Welcome home Ser Imass. Wait inside for Captain Stalinsa, he is running late, others will be attending too I am sure" Imass nodded seriously and humbly thanked the guard.

Entering the room, the Knight took a long look around. It felt very stuffy and hot inside the room. Ornate decorative armaments hung on the walls and expertly crafted wall-tables lined the circular room. Iron lanterns with candles circled the room, leaving a smoking black residue on the ceiling. The insignia of the Order: the Windoak was draped on one of the walls. There was a large circular table in the center of the room with a dozen cushioned chairs around it. There was also a side door that lead to who knew where.

Sitting on one of the seats, Imass couldn't help but feel anxiety. He knew he would have to recount his tale and he would be scrutinized. He also wandered who would be attending the meeting, for it was said that Stalinsa had left it open to all in the Order who were applicable. He knew also he would be receiving his next Duty at this junction as well. Everything was up in the air right now.

Taking a deep breath, the Knight hung his head. A few ticks later the sound of the main door opening was heard. Imass stood to his feet to great whomever entered.
Last edited by Imass on March 12th, 2016, 1:03 am, edited 1 time in total.
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[Barracks] Sylir's Country

Postby Alexander Faircroft on March 4th, 2016, 1:19 am

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Description "Alex Common" Alex thoughts "Myrian" "Fratava" "Others"


Alex and Ser Greyheart walked along the corridors of the castle. The two looking somewhat respectable. Alex was in simple black clothing as he was normally want to wear primarily given to him by Ser Greyheart for the occasion. No ornamental decorations were allowed to be worn with it, barring the exception of Alex’s loop of gods something Sebastian knew fully well that Alex wouldn’t leave behind. And shouldn’t leave behind in his current state. Sebastian himself wore a much the same as Alex did, further accentuating one of Sebastian’s core beliefs. That a man was judged by how he treated his underlings.

“Alex. Promise me that within the walls of the officer’s area you keep your mouth shut. You speak when addressed not like when were out of this place in the city. It reflects poorly on us both. So please for the sake of pride and appearances hold your tongue no matter what you hear, see or smell.” Alex nodded lightly and gave a small word of response, primarily to show he got what was being asked of him.
“Yes, ser.” It felt actively odd for Alex to have to speak in such a way to his patron. Normally the two of them got along like brothers. Admittedly with rank in the way at times it was a little odd Hoever Given the events that preceeded this and the fragility of Alex’s mental state perhaps this was for his own good.

-----

Sebastian pushed the doors of the officers’ quarters in. An empty room followed. A smile creeping across his face. Imass was a knight not unknown to Sebastian. Perhaps not for the best of reasons though. “Pleasure to see you Ser Imass. You’re looking a little gaunter than I remember.” A small joke to break the ice. It was strange seeing someone return from captivity. Still though Sebastian stepped into the room. At least until Captain Stalinsa arrived he was pretty certain he would be the highest ranking knight in the room, and the only officer. Sebastian then offered a small salute to Imass, signalling that before seeing him as a knight he saw him as a man.

Sebastian then walked over with a slight stride to his step primarily out of pride and pulled a chair free from the central circular table Planting himself in it he sat forwards his fingers laced together and rested his head atop them. “Well, seeing as he’s actively waiting for my approval for him to even enter allow me to introduce my squire. Alexander.” With both a small flick of his eyes towards the door and a gesture of his head he hoped that Alex would follow his words as they’d planned.

-----

Outside the conference quarters Alex rocked back and forth on the balls of his feet his hands fiddling lightly with the symbols around his neck. Not sure of what to do, not sure of what to act on. He heard voices coming from inside the room, one he knew was his patron and friend, the other he didn’t recognise. Older. Harder. Like he’d seen more of the world. Alex wanted to peer around the corner of the door to make his presence known but no instead he chose to do as his patron had asked and do exactly that. To preserve his patron’s face.

Alex lifted the symbol of Priskil lightly the small watchtower in his hands. Please Priskil. I hope I don’t mess this up. Letting the symbol slip from his fingers he heard his name mentioned. Alex stepped forwards around the archway of the open doors and saw his patron sitting at the rounded table. Across from him a thin looking akalak. An oddity to him. The one’s he’d come across were all much, bigger. This one despite being an akalak stood only three inches taller than Alex himself and a half foot higher than his patron.

As Alex stepped into the room he took a low bow and saluted. Giving his patron a small nod he motioned to stand at the edge of the room as his patron had asked. Out of sight and out of mind. Perhaps with the attention not focused at him he could perhaps not fail his patron’s wishes like he’d failed to uphold his own beliefs. Alex stood silently at attention until called by either his patron or he was told he could move by any of the other knights. However Alex kept his ears open and his eyes open. Picking up whatever information he could, scouring over the loose notes at the edge of the table and picking out a few words. Something about a mission for Ser Greyheart? Would he finally be able to see his patron in action, instead of holding back or tied up behind a desk?


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[Barracks] Sylir's Country

Postby Archailist on March 4th, 2016, 3:01 am

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My Words | Your Words | My Thoughts

It often worried Archailist just how little his patron seemed to be 'involved' with the general goings-on of the knighthood when said goings-on didn't at least have some mention of bodybuilding. By now, what he'd once thought to just be a deep-rooted passion for the subject had transformed into an obsession, which was now most certainly an addiction. Nothing else ever seemed to really matter. When he went out with friends, they all went to do exercise together - and when they weren't doing that, they were talking about exercising together. If some long-forgotten knight captured in the middle of a campaign many years ago and presumed dead suddenly turned up at the front gates, he'd never bat an eyelid unless they carried with them some ancient knowledge to add some extra pounds to his biceps. As a matter of fact, when exactly that had happened, Iros hadn't shown any interest at all.

Yet, it was also Iros that had completely closed down all of Arch's training and patrols for the day, thrown excuses at his fellow knights and escorted his squire up to the Officer Conference Quarters personally. "Are you sure about this, Ser?" To be honest, even the Pycon himself was having doubts. A knight long-forgotten from some age-old failed campaign suddenly returning after so many years? That's what he'd heard, at least, from the snippets of conversation between fellow squires, who in turn had heckled or outright spied on their patrons for any information passing down the knightly grapevine. Whether it was truly believable was.. debatable. What information, if there was any to be gained at all from sitting in on a conference with him, would likely be useless to him.

"Yes." Iros didn't lie. One glance into his eyes was more than enough to cement that knowledge. "But you're not." It wasn't asked like one, but it was a question. Arch replied by nodding; Iros sighed inwardly. "Before you get yourself tangled up in your own thoughts, listen to some of mine. I think that you're going to make a good knight some day. You're invested in the knighthood and you've got ambition, and I think..." he trailed off into another breath, "I think that when you're a Captain like Ser Stanlinsa, you'll owe me a cup of coffee for what I'm doing today.. which is giving you a little boost on that path."

He'd been so enraptured by Iros' speech, he'd hardly noticed that they'd crossed two tiers and were just stepping into the small antechamber leading up to the Conference Quarters. The two guards at the door straightened a little, until the plain-clothes Akalak flashed the small metal badge of a sword hanging at his collar. "Syliran Knight Iros, Second Wing, Brown Company, Fourth Regiment, Silver Quadrant." The guards relaxed again. "Just dropping off my squire and then I'll be on my way; I won't be staying." A wide red hand swooped over Iros' shoulder and picked off the squirrel that had been sitting there.. only because Iros was one of the few people that could tolerate the Pycon's weight with little burden.. then set him down on the floor.

"Err.." It took an embarrassingly long amount of time of awkwardly waiting at the door before one of the knights noticed the problem and opened the door for Arch, letting him slip inside quietly with a quick note of hushed thanks. Hopefully they hadn't started without him. Well, actually, hopefully they wouldn't immediately kick him out. The most interaction he'd ever had with higher officer ranks was that light chess match against a Stewart.. and they'd hardly shared a word through the entire encounter, yet it'd still ended more awkwardly than anything he'd ever experienced before.

There were already three people inside. Two of which, surprisingly, he knew. "Good afternoon, Alex.. and good afternoon, Ser Greyheart. Pleasure, as always." It was a futile attempt at masking the sheer terror coarsing through his tiny clay nexus at that moment, putting on a fake smile and nodding his head to the two. "And.. I don't believe we've had the pleasure." An Akalak. Blue, though, not red.. huh, that was new. Definitely not as prominently muscled as Iros, though he didn't really know if that was something to be thankful for or not.
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[Barracks] Sylir's Country

Postby Ball on March 4th, 2016, 4:02 am

NoteI struggled with writing this post originally. I originally had Ball doing what would have been expected of him, but it didn't feel right or befitting... So if this post feels off or confusing, let me know I will try to rework it.
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"My Speaking" My Thoughts


The rumours of a knight returning from Sahova's dark recesses echoed throughout the training grounds, but Ball ignored them, they were only rumors as there was only one knight that he knew of that never returned. And he is dead. Ball thought as his fist impacted with the plate of metal, leaving an impression of his fist as he pulled back the clay that counted as his fist. I put that in the past. I honored his words. Why must people mock me so? A shift of his body and the Pycon ran his knee into the spot, cracking the steel with an echo that bounced off the stone walls. Most of the squires stayed away from the pycon, it was never safe to be caught between Ball and the Pyken artist's target. Luckily for Ball there has never been an accident in the last four years caused from him – Yet there was always the chance.

The voice that broke Ball's concentration though came from nowhere, it spoke two words and stopped Ball in his tracks. It was those two words that caused the pycon to turn and look for the owner, “Squire Ball.” Ball looked at the man, wasn't entirely sure what to expect to see as the voice just flitted across the air and slapped the Pycon in his nexus. It was a person he had only heard of, Equuleus, He is an ugly fellow. Ball grimaced and looked at the man, “Yes?” There was a flick of the ugly man's hand and Ball followed, Are the rumours true then? He frowned, the squire's nexus recalling the words on the wings of a messenger last season. He left his mount behind, ignoring him and taking the man's longer gait with stumbling feet as he tried to keep.

They ventured down, an odd duo of members within the order. A man scarred and a lump of clay… They stopped at a door Ball passed several times over the years and without a knock the scarred man pushed the door open and ushered Ball in.

The scene that unfolded as Ball stepped over the threshold was not one he expected: He saw Alex and Greyheart -- the future, Squirrel Pycon –- the present, and his past… Stood before him. Ball's hands tightened into fists as his monocular eye stared at Imass, his nexus shook his body with the thundering crashing of lightening and rain. The door behind him clicked shut, probably not as hard as Ball's nexus registered it – but the fate was already sealed. His mind triggered the awful quest again, the years past and Ball thought he had it under control.

That was the last thing Ball heard as his mind saw the tentacle come down and Ball buckled under the fear and sorrow, “Sylir protect me. Ghosts mock me no more.” Ball whispered, a look of pure sorrow etched across his face. If he could cry he would. “I done my duty to him and the Order.” Ball was clearly crying at this point. Ball tried to pull himself together, but the man before him was thin, frail like – A scarecrow... Ball whimpered and sat down hard, curling his arms around his knees.

“You little scarred bastard brought me to my own personal Hai. A specter of the past to haunt me?” Ball couldn't pull his eye away from the blue knight.


Credit :
Created goes to Raus for aiding in the photo manipulation, Myself for color and transparency manipulation as well as box code. Character is accredited below
Avatar CreditsMy lovely Avatar was drawn and created by the most awesome Nivel

Graders Please Note :
As Ball is getting closer and closer to maxing out Pyken as a skill, I would like to request that in places where Ball is not doing enough to constitute Pyken XP if Pyken technique lores could be issued instead.

Examples of proper XP level for Pyken would be: Ball developing or refining his technique by adding new thing against an actual moving target, not a dummy.

The use of basic skills alone are not enough to accomplish XP at Ball's current level of Pyken.

Thank you.

I will be handling all Ball related posts on Mondays @ 1800 my time *
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[Barracks] Sylir's Country

Postby Imass on March 4th, 2016, 5:35 am

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Surprise came over Imass' face when Sebastian Greyheart entered the room. Imass had not been to battle with the Sergeant, nor talked to him much, but he knew of the man's deeds; Greyheart was a good Knight and Imass respected him.

"'Tis pleasure as well, good ser," Imass chuckled at his jest, revealing his badly broken and missing teeth, "Verily, they have not found a way to kill me yet, skin and bones though I may be!"

Ser Greyheart's squire entered the room next, Imass paid him no heed as the squire did not acknowledge him in any formal courtesy. He seemed overly curious for his own good, checking the papers as he did. Imass raised an eye in suspicion of the lad, but he did not care enough to let his mind wander.

Before more words could be exchanged between Sebastian and Imass, the door opened again. A Pycon in the form of a squirrel walked in. The Knight held his breath and the anxiety he was feeling began to swelter for a moment , but alas it was not Ball.

Imass coughed to regain mental composure, "Noble Pycon, I am Ser Imass, 'tis a pleasure to meet thee,"

Taking a seat again, Imass exclaimed his thoughts in a detached voice, "It has been a long and perilous journey, but it is good be home, to be among allies again,"

The door opened again and a familiar face showed itself Equuleus, the Stewart Knight of the Mages. Behind him another Pycon, shaped as a miniature man with small arms and one eye, entered the room. Imass did not recognize this Pycon either, but his heart began to swell up and the anxiety went through his body as the clay figure began to speak. Getting out of the chair and dropping to a knee, Imass remained silent for a moment as the Pycon spoke and began to cry. That is when Imass realized it was Ball.

The Akalak's heart began to feel like it was going to explode, but he fought his emotions hard. He pushed the feelings away and kept a grim face as he stared at Ball with lifeless eyes.

"Ball," said coldly, "'Tis I, Imass, I am no ghost. I was imprisoned in Sahova after the ship wreck," Imass didn't understand what was going on internally with Ball so he kept running his mouth, "Yahal showed me the light, Ball, and I escaped!" Imass' mind began to wander with thoughts of battle, the same battles that plagued Ball's soul. Imass felt the urge to break down too, but instead he held it in.

As Imass spoke, the back door of the chamber opened and Captain Stalinsa entered the room quietly surveying the seen.

Finally able to push his emotions completely away, the Knight responded with a an overly zealous shout that he was well-known for, "I am BACK and eager to rejoin you in battle! We shall slay MANY evil men once again Ball! Huzzah!"

Imass showed no heart, no love.
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[Barracks] Sylir's Country

Postby Alexander Faircroft on March 4th, 2016, 5:25 pm

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Description "Alex Common" Alex thoughts "Myrian" "Fratava" "Others"


The situation within the room was something that Alex hadn’t really experienced before. There was a certain gravitas to the aura of the room. One that only seemed to grow weightier with each passing moment. At least for him. Alex still stood to full attention at the side of the room. A look caught his eye from the blue akalak. Named Ser Imass, if he was to believe what Ser Greyheart had said. Before another conversation sparked up the doors of the chamber creaked open again and Archailist scurried in. Ser Greyheart shot the small squirrel a look of surprise more that he was here without his patron than much else. The only reason why Alex was here was the simple fact that Ser Greyheart had put in a request for him to come with. Alex in turn gave a light smile to archailist and a small nod. The only thing he could do having promised his patron he wouldn’t speak and he wouldn’t act without permission from him. Or another knight.

-----

“Ser Imass. I know who you’re waiting for. Odds are he’ll be here shortly.” The only line spoken by Greyheart other than a small nod towards the greeting the pycon had offered him. In reaction to this Ser Greyheart knocked his knuckles on the table lightly signalling for Archialist to come up and stand nearby. Predominantly so people wouldn’t be looking down at him. Another face then appeared at the door, one that made even Ser greyheart stand and offer a small salute and bow of acknowledgement. The three interlocking swords showing at his collar. A signal to Alex that this was a man above his own patron, one of only a few which existed Greyhearts crossed swords were the signal of a sergeant, so the triple swords signalled a steward. Alex immediately gave a sharp and ordained salute in mirror image of his patron. If a bit stiffer. However behind him followed a familiar shape. “Here he comes…Hopefully this ends well…” Sebastian spoke under his breath. Half a hope, half a prayer.

-----

Alex watched as Ball walked into the room. The small ball of clay shook with anger, as a man who knew the rage of despair Alex immediately recognized it. A deep sadness turned into a fore front of bitter, bitter anger. Alex felt part of him want to move. To dart over and offer some form of comfort to ball, but he couldn’t. He’d promised Greyheart and so he stood stock still against the wall. Alex Almost leapt from his spot damning the promise he’d made to restrain himself and he would have darted he would have had Imass not spoken. Or at least had he not looked towards Imass. Alex saw the look of grimness. The look of a corpse rather than a man. Something about the eyes of Imass spoke to him like a look he got from his own father. A turmoil.

Greyheart saw Alex wanting to move and Alex caught his eye. A short exchange of glances between them told Alex not to move. To let things play out to let events unfold as they would and to just watch. The conversation that followed was one that Alex followed but didn’t fully understand. Moments passed and the seemingly broken ball stayed still. But before long the doors swung open, and a single man stepped through. The four interlocking swords on his collar eliciting a sharp and stark salute from Sebastian and an even sharper one from Alex.
The one thing that dragged Alex’s focus away from the scene and the captain was the roaring bellow of a shout from Imass. A rolling loudness that spoke of pride and power. And an utter rejection of how ball was feeling. Alex felt his hand roll into a fist by his side. Over the past season Alex had thought that he and Ball had at the very least come to an understanding if not a vague form of friendship. And seeing how easily Imass brushed off ball was something that stirred the now lingering darkness within Alex’s heart.

-----

Sebastian now spoke. “Ser. I don’t believe I’ve had the privilege of speaking with you captain Stalinsa. I’m Sebastian Greyheart, silver Quadron, White company, First wing. Under command of Steward knight Ihsan Kanaan.” A soft breath filled his lungs as he slackened his stance offering his usual lax demeanour. An oddity within the room at present Sebastian was the only one not standing fully to an attention at that exact moment primarily out of being open of the only people in the room who knew exactly what was going on. “Well now everybody is gathered how’s about we take a seat and get the gears turning, eh?” Sebastian was trying to diffuse the tension in the room, what with the scene with Ball and Imass and the two superior officers.


-----

The oddity of the situation was not lost on Alex who in this exact moment didn’t know what in the heck was going on. Two superior officers a steward and a captain were in the same room with three squires a sergeant and a regular knight. The questions racing through his head were too numerous to simply spell out. On top of that he couldn’t say a word, he had to restrain himself and just listen and watch. Alex could feel his lower back beginning to cramp a little from the position and leant against the wall ever so slightly hoping no-one would notice.


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Last edited by Alexander Faircroft on March 11th, 2016, 2:24 am, edited 1 time in total.
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[Barracks] Sylir's Country

Postby Archailist on March 4th, 2016, 7:37 pm

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My Words | Your Words | My Thoughts

For a moment, glancing to Ser Greyheart, the Pycon worried he'd made some horrible mistake by appearing for the conference.. but through the obvious surprise, the Sergeant didn't seem to offer any rebuke or rebuffal, so he took it in his stride and offered as warm a smile as he could muster to both he and his squire before rounding back on Ser Imass. "Haha, please.. there's no need for that. The pleasure's all mine, Ser." He seemed like a pleasant fellow, even if he did look considerably worse-for-wear than he'd expected. He found the effort to muster up some genuine pleasure in his face.

Which was quickly wiped back off by Ser Greyheart's words. "Waiting for...?" With little prompting needed, the squirrel-shaped statuette catapulted himself onto the table by using one of the chairs as a stiff spring-board, coming to stand at the side of the familiar Sergeant when the door opened and yet another knight emerged.. though, apart from a quick and almost automatic salute to the Stewart, that wasn't who the attention was focused on. "Ball?" he whispered in a confused tone, glancing back to Ser Greyheart, then over to Ser Imass..

Sylir above, what was this. He looked back up to Ser Greyheart, then back down at his crying friend. Why the petching Hai is nobody even going down there to help? He looked up to Ser Greyheart repeatedly but got the feeling that taking one step to help would mean serious repurcussions; not just cleaning out the stables for a season, either. He still wanted to though. Ball had never, in all the time he'd known the fellow Pycon, come close to crying. Today, without a word spoken, Ser Greyheart, his fellows and this Ser Imass fellow had managed to do just that.. and they'd known this would happen too, he could bet. He didn't care why they'd done it or why it made Ball so upset.. but what he did know is that if his fingers had bones in them, they likely would have snapped by now, with the force he was clenching them, while he was forced to stand motionless while his friend went through inconceivable pain just a few feet away.

A Captain arrived behind the Stewart and Arch offered a quick salute and a stiff "Ser" in greeting. It seemed like this was everyone that was going to attend and soon the conference would begin. Yet, unbelievably, Arch was left wondering if anyone would even have the decency to pick him up and offer him a seat.. or whether they were going to stand around and watch like voyeuristic sadists. He would have gone himself, though he had a feeling the seventh glance to Ser Greyheart in the past chime would receive the same answer as the previous six. He knew this was going to happen and he did it anyway.
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[Barracks] Sylir's Country

Postby Ball on March 6th, 2016, 1:10 am

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"My Speaking" My Thoughts


Ball registered the words from the scarecrow before him briefly, it was almost like a second light clicked on inside of his nexus. This one wasn't a good light either – this was all those years worth of loss boiling to the top. The ship went down. We barely made it way from the Hai and yet this man claims he is who he says he is Liege Lord was been gone for three years. Three years and yet he comes here? This… Skeletal blasphemer. When the man stood he apparently wasn't worried about Ball, there was a sense of proud, dignity, a sense of what this man saw as right and wrong. But this was not the man Ball recalled, this was not the man that took Ball as his squire and trained him before that awful ship.

Yet Ball reacted as he has in the last few years, with violence. This man had no escape – Ball didn't register the side door opening another man stepping through it and others snapping to attention, no Ball pulled back with his left fist tightly wound up, a quick step forward the Pyken artist struck outward hard and fast towards the man's ankle closest to him. His clay blurred forward, closing the gap, even if he missed the intended target the rest of his body was twisting to the right, arching, his left leg twisted backward and around in as much of a blur of movement as his left fist that it was obvious that the years of Ball's training could be seen as he balanced to distinct attacks on a single foot that he stepped forward with, planted it hard to the ground and pivoted as he struck outward.

I will not allow just any man to call himself Liege Lord. Until he can prove me otherwise… He is not who he says he is. There was a slight rosy bloom of pink color visible on his chest as Ball lashed outward.

The top of his body pushed forward as his lower body pivoted in a weird shifting twist around the leg that was Ball's anchor point. If both attacks hit at the same time they would be an inch apart from one another.


Credit :
Created goes to Raus for aiding in the photo manipulation, Myself for color and transparency manipulation as well as box code. Character is accredited below
Avatar CreditsMy lovely Avatar was drawn and created by the most awesome Nivel

Graders Please Note :
As Ball is getting closer and closer to maxing out Pyken as a skill, I would like to request that in places where Ball is not doing enough to constitute Pyken XP if Pyken technique lores could be issued instead.

Examples of proper XP level for Pyken would be: Ball developing or refining his technique by adding new thing against an actual moving target, not a dummy.

The use of basic skills alone are not enough to accomplish XP at Ball's current level of Pyken.

Thank you.

I will be handling all Ball related posts on Mondays @ 1800 my time *
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[Barracks] Sylir's Country

Postby Imass on March 6th, 2016, 5:20 am

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Imass stood up when everyone started to salute Captain Stalinsa, "S--", The Knight caught only a glimpse of his superior before a sharp pain struck his left ankle on the fibula, right above the malleous. A singular moment later, another sharp pain struck his foot this time with tremendous force. The Akalak buckled and he dropped to his knees with a loud thud, sending a shockwave up his thighs.

"Huuughh~ah," rumbled in pain, his yellow eyes winced and turned to see Ball striking him.

The Knight reacted out of pure instinct; his mind went blank. He swatted his left hand down towards Ball in a curled fist. At the same time he buckled even more: planting his right hand on the stone floor and shimming counter-clockwise on his knees and right foot.

"Hu-ah!" Imass grunted as his swung again with a curled left-hand jab at the blurry clay figure.
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Imass
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[Barracks] Sylir's Country

Postby Alexander Faircroft on March 11th, 2016, 2:42 am

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Description "Alex Common" Alex thoughts "Myrian" "Fratava" "Others"


Alex hung at the edge of the shadows of the room, hoping to keep unnoticed and hidden away from the events. He wanted to rush over and help ball to tell him everything would be fine. But he couldn’t he wasn’t allowed to take even a single step. His hands clenched by his sides. He winced lightly seeing the expression on Archailist’s face. The moment ball stood though and shifted from his normal terra cotta colouring to this pinkish colour, Alex knew something was about to happen. Greyheart even more so.

-----

“Alex Shield!” Greyheart called out and Alex pulled a shield off of one of the suits of armour adorning the walls and tossed it to his patron. Who in turn caught it and threw it towards Imass. “Imass, defend yourself.” As he did so Greyheart vaulted across the table Hand flat against the laminated wood as he stood between Ball and Imass, who was getting torn apart by Ball, already on his hands and knees attempting to defend himself, the shield Greyheart threw landed between Imass and ball As greyheart planted his feet between Ball and Imass.

“Squire Ball. Swing again, and you’ll find yourself in more than just tossed in the tank." There was a sternness to Greyhearts voice that Alex had not heard before. Almost like he wasn’t giving a command but an alternative. Alex in the back ground stepped free from the shadows and just up to the edge of the situation.
Damn staying silent in this mess. Alex thought to himself but as he was about to go over to ball and try to help him all her got was a glare from Greyheart telling him to not take another step. And he froze. He didn’t dare move a muscle. Greyheart spoke with a firmness now, offering ball one chance to back down or face retribution. “There are three ranked knights in this room, two higher than myself and one is a captain. I do not care for your reasoning, you assaulted a superior officer. You swing again, and you’ll find yourself in a great deal more trouble than it’s worth. Leave the emotions till later.” Greyhearts sword pointed at Ball less than three inches from the small clay form. If ball moved Equuleus would stop him if captain Stalinsa didn’t do it first. In a by far more climatic and less held back manner. Greyheart was offering discipline with a chance of staying.

-----

Alex in the back ground shared a glance to Archailist, a look that said “I want to help but I can’t.” With the smallest and lightest of head motions trying to hide it from all but the smaller squire he urged Archie to do what he could not. He motioned for him to not only console but to talk reason into ball. Lest he find a rather disastrous outcome from this mess.


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