PM to join In Defense of Our Dreams

[Quzon]

70th of Spring, 516 A.V.
Noon/12th Bell

The city of Endrykas had become sluggish from the sudden onslaught of Syna's warm embrace. There were many who had been spending their days waiting for the cool kiss of evenings shade. And this day was no different. It began unassumingly, as all things of its nature do. A warm quiet night came to a quiet morning. Its silence and peace were almost a promise in its own right; the promise of heated placidity. But then, promises were made to be broken.

Maybe it was due to the fact that Quzon only wore a loincloth, or maybe it came from his upbringing in the high humidity of Falyndar's jungle that gave him no excuse to take the day off because of the heat. No matter the reason, Quzon had gone to The War Storm Pavilian to draw out his passion for combat.

He took comfort from the heat by engulfing himself in the perpetual strife of those who also wished to remove weakness from there bodied through dedication. Quzon respected those Grasslanders who trained this day. But unlike them, the half-isur had no intention of training with a weapon. No, Quzon was there to sculpt his body into a weapon.

He laid face down in a field with his palms planted firmly against the ground; each hand resting just slightly wider than below his shoulders. He held his body aloft, several inches off of the ground. Quzon bent his arms to lower his body slowly to the ground until his chest hovered a single inch above the grass beneath him. He held that position for a moment before pressing off of the ground to try and lift his body back into his starting position.

He was warming up by doing push ups. A simple exercise. However, to challenge his natural strength granted to him by his isur blood. Quzon draped a fifty-five pound length of iron chain around his waist. The weight resisted his upward movement, doing its best to keep his body down. He kept his feet close together and dug his bare toes into the ground, flexing his abdominal muscles to keep his lower body stable.

In a sudden grunt, he exclaimed in his natural language of Myrian. “One!” He'd fully lifted his body back into the upright starting position. On the ground next to him laid an empty rucksack with a second fifty pound iron chain on top of the leather rucksack. They were the only bodybuilding items that the Mixed-blood could feasibly bring with him to Endrykas. He glanced to the spare chain only for a moment before lowering his body, repeating the entire process.

Quzon continued to count every rep he preformed aloud in myrian. “Seventeen.. eighteen... nineteen!”

[Amunet]

During her return she had pushed herself in her work again. The events surrounding earlier spring and then the caves had rendered her into a bit of broody silence. It was this day that she was called out to the Training grounds, the War Storm. Early injuries that morning had occurred with some of the training. This was not uncommon. The girl shouldered her pack that held supplies as she walked through. She was perhaps more covered than the average Drykas on a warm day.

The men by and large had no shirts on as the women wore barely a breast band in the heat. She had underthings that peaked out from under a faded red shirt that was perhaps a bit worse for the wear. It was belted as it was oversized and went down past her hips. One shoulder of the garment always seemed to dip down off of the seemingly slight shoulders. She wore leather pants and boots. There seemed to always be a water skin, coin bag and pouch for small things on the belt. Her eye caught one strange man kissing the ground it seemed. There was a brief curious expression of what insanity it was, but she had to tend to the injury.

“Bartak. “ Her voice raised calling one of the ground’s overseers.

“What!!” He yelled back over his shoulder “Oh. You. “ He pointed towards the young man.

Amunet just nodded despite the rudeness of the way he went about it, but it was hot. People get grumpy in the heat. She moved towards the young man as he was bleeding pretty good over his left brow. The boy was still standing. “I need you to sit down so I can look at that. “

The young man lifted his chin. “What is someone like you telling me what to do. Pavilionless nothing of a scamp. What are you to the Drykas?”

The young lady just looked at him. “Your Healer. “ She answered simply as she tried to not show the sting his words held. She lifted her chin and looked at a barrel that was about the right size. Amunet tipped it to one side to test its weight. It felt about half full. It might be around fifty pounds, give or take. She took a deep breath and exhaled as she bent down got her fingers under neath and shouldered the barrel part. Once she got both hands underneath she bent at the knees. The woman was closer to the ground than most people but her scrawny little self slowly lifted up with the barrel. The red head took her time as she exhaled evenly and slowly while balancing the barrel on her shoulder. She then walked it to more the open and slowly bent her knees down to the ground and tilted it a bit forward to set it down. It allowed her to get her hands out from under the edge. Amunet took another deep breath in and exhaled out as she dusted her hands off.

There was silence and some men looking at her as if she had grown another eye. How did that little scrawny healer pick that up? The little lady pointed at the upstart. “You. Sit. Now.”

The young man being speechless sat down on the barrel. The Healer asked for a large bowl full of clean water as she opened her pack. She cleaned the wound with the water first to get a good look at it. Someone clipped him good or rather multiple times. It was hard to tell which hit actually opened it up. The amount of bruising in this area of the face and head was evident of repeated blunt damage. Why must men do this to themselves? She shook her head as she reached for the wintergreen astringent that she got from the River Flower and continued cleaning the wound. There was a hiss from her patient, but then she didn’t warn him it was going to sting. He kind of irritated her.

It was what it had to be; however, as now the knowledge of the wound flowed to her senses as her hand went over the wound and the right side of her face shimmered and blazed briefly extending to the wound and bruising. Those watching the wound would see it slowly disappear to a scratch and the bruising was all but gone.

“There you go. It shouldn’t give you any trouble. “ She started to pack up.

“Wait. Shouldn’t there be a scar. “ The dumb male said as he seemed aghast there wasn’t stitches.

“No. There will be no scars. “ She smiled a bit as he was being a prick really. She looked at Bartak. “He is ready to go at it some more.”

The man smiled as he motioned for the boy to get up. He glowered at the Healer. Diamond clans were so arrogant. They did produce the most warriors, but by the god’s where they not easy to deal with. She huffed a sigh for a moment as she picked her pack up and looked towards the one with hardly any clothing on still kissing the ground. Maybe she should check on him. The Healer started moving towards the strange man. Strange was a good word as he wasn’t Drykas and his coloration was odd. Was that Blue? Was he breathing alright? Blue was most certainly not a healthy color. Having never seen a Isur before she was not prepared.

Her pack dropped to the ground as she went to one knee. “Are you feeling well?” It was at first in Pavi but she repeated it in common. Her voice was gentle, smooth and kind. Close up she would have light sky blue eyes with gold star burst that shimmered every so often. The skin would be flawless and lightly sun kissed if not pale in unexposed places. She put a hand on his sweated shoulder in concern as he went up and down. “Please, I can help you.” She said in earnest in common. The red hair was perhaps the most telling thing about this girl. It ranged from blood red to different shades of fire that caught the sun and seemed to set ablaze on its own as if her own banner. It went all the way down to her hips that was lush , curled and waved about her. The girl searched for the man’s eyes for any distress.

[Quzon]

Quzon exhaled as he slowly push up from the ground until his arms held his body aloft, taking careful note not to lock his elbow, but keep them slightly bent. "Dedication breeds strenght." He mused to himself trying hard to keep himself motivated through the soreness running through his arms, chest, and abdomen. He lowered himself back towards the ground, inhaling while keeping his elbows tucked in close to his body. The weights on his waist forced his hips to sag as he pushed off of the ground, and he grunted when he held himself aloft again.

"Failure. Do it again." He spat out words of venom in myrian. Insulting himself for trying to cheat his own body out of perfection. His perfect form had been broken g by his sagging core, so he could not count it as a true repetition. Quzon closed his eyes to focus his mind for a moment. The half-isur began to take in a deep breath which he inhaled slowly and silently. His exercise always served to calm him down, and yet his own perfectionism often caused him disrupt that peace of mind with unwanted stress. He held his breath for several ticks of a chime. Then exhaled completely out through his mouth.

Quzon repeated the breathing process three more times before opening his eyes. He tightened his abdominal muscles to keep himself from sagging, then lowered and lifted himself again. This time he'd done it without drooping his body and felt proud, despite the nagging feelings of his arms shaking. "Wait? What number was I on?" The memory of his last count having vanished when he messed up the last push-up. "Hmm.." Quzon responded; lingering on that grunt for a moment. A very brief one.

Quzon's thoughts were interrupted when he heard a voice speaking to him. He couldn't understand a word of what was being said in pavi, but he knew through the voice's intonation that the language was being spoken directly at him. It was only when she started to speak in common that Quzon lifted his head to look towards the woman who had put a hand on his back.

There were many things that could agitate the half-isur, but disturbing his exercise was at the top of the list. He was almost going to respond rudely, but the woman's calm demeanor did not merit such a response. "I Feel strong." He said to the woman while his arms shook from the strain of keeping his entire body weight raised in the air. His emerald green eyes locked gazes with the woman. It took him less than a second to brake her gazes once he saw the mark of Rak'keli on her cheek.

"Momo?" It was a name spoken absently out of curious surprise. The first time he'd ever seen the mark of Rak'keli was on his fangmate, Momoztli, who was the healer in his fang of the Taloban Army. That was enough to cause him to wag the iron chain off of his body like a wet dog. Then stand to his feet. Quzon chuckled to himself as he stood got a better look at the woman.

Maybe it was due to the fact that she reminded him of a friend. Or maybe it was because she was marked as a healer. But for the second time, he spoke to a stranger in Endrykas with unearned fondness. "Bear weight. I suffer proud. Get stronger." The words were spoken in broken common. "Worry, not. 'Faithful Wing'. Smile as I, Quzon. Suffer." He called her a 'faithful wing' of Rak'keli, then reached out with his tattooed arm to gently clasp a hand onto Amunet's shoulder. In his mind, that was a friendly gesture before giving her a nod.

Quzon let go of the woman's shoulder then turned to look at the iron chains on the ground. "Bear weight. suffer. Get stronger." He repeated the words again, this time to motivate himself into starting his next exercise.

[Amunet]

Firstly his blue skin was such a fascination that she almost missed hearing his broken common. Then is reasoning escaped him as Rak’keli did not like suffering and this lead to myriad of confusion as if he was suffering why didn’t she feel the need to heal him. He spoke of suffer and strong in the same breath.

“How suffer equal strength? “ Her face softly furrowed as those light blue eyes graced with gold dusted star patterns that shimmered every so often looked into his green eyes. They were strong green eyes and determined. Amunet found that a good quality.


She smiled as he introduced his name. Quzon was the name. it did not fit anything she knew as her eyes still examined him. Her hand was on his arm to move him to the side so she can look at his back and front to see any hidden injury but there seemed to be none. He was breathing alright. “Your arm and skin, Blue. You breathe well? “ Or maybe it was some accident with the dyes as she picked one of his hands to examine the skin to seek out this mystery. No one she knew with blue skin was healthy; in fact it meant that little blood was getting to that part.

He called her something, ‘Faithful wing’. It took her a moment or two to connect the reference. This gave her a big smile as she chuckled softly as it referenced the winged serpents of the symbol of her goddess. “Yes. I suppose so.” There was a kindness in her eyes where her people lacked. In service to the people as the tenant of Rak’keli was to provide healing and health to all people.

The large man went on to say that he bear weight to suffer to get stronger. “Please rest. I need to find the reason for the Blue. “ The poor caring girl never seen an Isur much less a Myrian. Amunet had no understanding that training like this was normal. The red head bent down with her legs to gather the fifty pound chain using her stout little body and lifting with her legs. It was a bit ungangly but it was like lifting barrels and bales around endrykas. No sweat. “lets get you into shade before you dehydrate. “ The girl went towards where a couple of barrels was at and patted one. The Healer then went to get the man water from her own skin from her horse. The horse gave the large green eyed man a look and then snorted before turning to find grazing nearby.

She sat on one barrel and took a drink of the water as she watched the trainer was beating the snot out of the kid that gave her grief. There was another chuckle as she knows she probably see him later again. “Please, come rest. Rest is good and helps with strength also. Over stressing muscles can cause injury.” She said it in common the best she could and she hoped Quzon understood her.

[Quzon]

A sensation of relief.

Quzon could feel that in his arms now in there inactivity. It meant that his muscles were worked, but not to the point of their true limits. And he found that truly disappointing. His face remained flushed from physical exertion. The blue hue of his skin grew slightly tawny, letting the faintest hint of his Myrian heritage slightly darken the skin of his blue face. But, he needed to do more. It was like a drug to him. His one true vice. When the female started to pick at his hand. He responded like any sane person, he just raised a brow and felt that her curiosity in him was random.

When Amunet lifted the fifty pound chain, Quzon smiled at the slender woman. He was not human, his blood lines granted him inherent strength and he had also trained for most of his life. Needless to say, the act had impressed him. He bent down to pick up the iron chain he had dropped, feeling the soreness in his abdomen as he bent over. He grunted before lifting the chains to lay them across his shoulders. He picked up the empty rucksack and walked over to the healer to join her.

Quzon stopped for a moment to look over at her horse, taking a small moment to go over to it and softly stroke his palm along the side of the horse's body. Doing it before it wandered away before the horse went to graze. The Mixed Blood went over to the barrel's and stood in front of the one Amunet had sat on.

“You ask how suffer equal strength?" He grinned. "As steel sharpen steel. Lift heavy weight can make flesh like iron statue. If arm stress, then work leg. If leg sore, work stomach. If stomach sore, work back. Forge strength through flame of patient suffering. One day, be mighty as Izurdin. "

Quzon's words seemed to impact him as he fell silent for a moment. He believed that their was a cost to his soul. A debt to be paid. As if he needed to prove that he existed for a reason. Through hard work, he had proven that he was full Myrian. He was blooded and marked by her. Now he needed to prove that he was a worthy Isur. He glanced down to the ends of the chains resting against his chest, then back up to Amunet.

"No need worry. Skin blue cause father is Isur. He is of Sultros. My mother is of Taloba. A proud Myrian. My blood is of both."

Quzon gave a worn, ragged sigh as he lifted his elbow parallel to the ground, holding them equal height to his chest then twisted his from side to side. Stretching while finding his attention drawn with more focus onto the red headed woman. "Not tired. Arms sore, so must work legs. I train wrestle movements. You strong. Want join me?"

[Amunet]

Her head tilted up to see the man. He was an impressively cut figure as she listened to his rough explanation of suffering to some kind of perfection. The girl rubbed the back of her head as she mulled his words over. It must have been a cultural thing that he spoke of as the hard life out in the Grass that she lived had honed her to what she is. That had its different brand of suffering. Well maybe there was something to this suffering. The girl took a drink of water as she sat there and pondered his words with a careful regard.

“There is truth in what you speak. Suffering comes in many forms. I guess I didn’t think about it in the way that you apply it.” The red head’s smile was genuine and polite.

That explained the blue skin. It seemed to be natural as Quzon explained his lineage. The attentive girl listened to his words as if she had to heal him one day, a little bit of knowledge now would be helpful. It also helped people feel better when you listen to them. Being an outsider, he probably didn’t get listened to very much. A young one year old hunting cat came up to her and rubbed up against her.

“Leia.. you found me again. I told you to stay with Drak.” The cat would get bored and it seemed no matter where she was at, the cat tracked her down. The little hands was on the sleek head of the hunting cat who was purring. Leia showed promise of speed and agility. “Sorry. This is Leia, my hunting cat. “

His question startled her about wrestling. “me? Wrestle? “ She blinked at him. “why would i..” She didn’t think of herself as a violent person. Amunet really was rather a pacifist even though she was adventurous which was often at odds with some of the more physical of her people. He said she was strong. The confused red head was not entirely sure what he meant as she then looked at the chain. “Oh strong. Well I'm always shifting inventory at the River Flower and moving my own tents and things. Just know how to lift. “ The peaceful girl shrugged as she didn’t consider it a sign of strength, just working. Those light blue eyes looked up into Quzons as it seemed it was a true invitation and oddly a compliment by his posture and expression.

“Well if you think I can. I am not sure how good I would be. Although sometimes I find myself in strange situations. On second thought. Let’s do this. Maybe I should learn something. “ She got up to start removing the over top that revealed a simple camisole that was form fitting and her belt came off. Without the baggy clothing one could see how streamlined and fit she was.

[Quzon]

"Hmm... maybe not." He said as he looked up to the burning sun in the sky after looking her body over. He felt as if it would be best to take it slow, at least for her sake in the heat. "I show you movement to build stone body. Push-up. Sit-up. Board. Squat. Each build power by lifting weight of yourself-body." He corrected his broken common as best he could. Speaking slowly to properly detail each exercise he was going to show her. "Do anywhere, all time, everyday."

Quzon got down onto the ground so that he laid on the floor on his back. He placed his feet flat onto the ground, with his hands touching the sides of his head. "Sit up. Simple. Easy. Lay like this, put hands like this... do not grab back of the neck or fold arms behind neck. It disgraceful to pull neck. And head. Bad form. Only lift with base... Make stomach valley of mountain." He said as he used one hand to slap his abdomen. He lifted his shoulders an inch off of the ground to put himself into a ready position. Quzon flexed his abdominal muscles, willing them to lift the weight of his upper body until his elbows nearly touched his knees. There was a five second pause at the top of the movement before he lowered himself back down, using his core muscle to fight gravity to stop his body when it was two inches away form the ground. He repeated the motion twenty five times before he decided to stop.

Quzon rolled over onto his stomach, placing both of his elbows onto the ground so that his forearms were placed parallel on the ground. "Board. Make body like board. Wood plank." He said as he lifted his legs off of the ground, holding himself up on the balls of his feet. "Hold for few chimes... nothing else. Stomach will cramp. Shake. But keep hold until collapse." The half-isur just remained there in the upright position, closing his eyes to focus on his breathing. The natural endurance graced upon him by his isur blood let him hold the stance for quite a long time, nearing twelve chimes, before he started to feel his abs swell with the feeling of strain.

His knees bent to touch the ground to take some of the weight off of his core. They only stayed on the ground for two chimes before he lifted them back up to reposition himself into the plank yet again. "Now push up." The words slipped from his mouth as he pushed himself up into the ready position in a very elaborate way.

His fore arms were still on the ground as he pressed his palms into the ground. It was an more advanced version of the push up, using his forearm strength to lift his entire body up enough for his biceps to take control, then lift him the rest of the way up. "You saw me in push up before. Helps strength in chest and shoulders... you push but it only strengths arms small amount." As he kept his body straight, he bent elbows to lower his torso down within a centimeter of the ground, nearly touching the ground before lifting himself up into the starting position. Quzon only did ten as an example since he'd already did his push-ups for the day.

Quzon slowly stood up to his full height then started to brush all the grass and dirt that had accumulated on him from rolling around on the ground. "Squat. last, but no least. Squat help legs, make strong like roots of tree." He took a stance so his feet were a shoulder width apart with a slight bend in his knees. He kept his back straighted with his chest push out forward. Then lowered his body down until his thighs were perfectly parallel to the ground. To lift up, he forced his heels into the ground to explode up into the bent standing position. He only stood there for half a moment before lowering himself back down as if he were sitting into an invisible chair. It was a simple process that he did in two sets of twenty five. By the end, he'd done one fifty squats in total.

Quzon had to take a knee afterwards just to rub the back of his thighs to ease the tension within them. "Practice. Build strength... we wrestle next time." He grinned, almost about to call her Momoztli but caught himself in time to remain silent.

[Jasmine Stormblood]

let me know if I missed anything dear

 

Quzon

XP

• Body Building: 3 XP
• Socialization: 3 XP
• Endurance: 2 XP
• Teaching: 1 XP

Lores

• Quzon: half Isurian, half Myrian
• Quzon: hates his training interrupted
• Amunet: a promise to wrestle next time
• Isurian blood helps with endurance
• "Dedication breeds Strength
• Body Building: start with push ups as a warm up
• Body Building: add more weight for a challenge
• Body building: move from arms to legs
• Body Building: chest and shoulders follow legs
• Endurance: push all muscles to their limits
• Soreness can be mistaken for fatigue
• Sit Up: do not put arms behind head
• Squats: help legs
• Push Ups: works the chest ad shoulders as well as arms
• Board: hold self up until collapse