Timestamp: 50th of Winter
Location: Training Grounds
Location: Training Grounds
Through all of the hard work that Ferrin pits into his training, one could call him a workaholic ever since he became a Squire a few seasons a go. Ferrin busted his arse off to become a Knight, and that's what he's going to do, though he's not so sure what to do when he becomes a Knight. In fact, maybe he should ask someone about what a Knight really does when they get sired. He figured that they would talk to the Windoak like Ser Xervos informed in the summer, but he was nervous- just thinking about the Windoak made him nervous. Of course it should be nerve-racking, you never know what kind of quest you'll be having right? Ferrin just hoped he could still see his family and be alive during that quest. He wondered how long it would take him to become a Knight. A few seasons maybe, perhaps a few years.
Ferrin scoffed at the thought.
A few more years of training to become a Knight, the squire was astonished by that. He needs to get back to training if he ever wanted to get any better.
He felt the need to take his training to an extra level. Something... more exotic. He needed the extra practice, and practice is always good to have, especially if you need to be good at something.
So... he felt that The Pits were the best option. Ferrin hadn't wanted to battle against bandits alone...
Eventually, the squire made his way to the Pits, bearing some plate armor, a shield, and a shortened broadsword, which was named Clivath made from the Mythryn Outpost blacksmith himself.
Slowly, he made way through the entrance of the Pits, kicking up dirt just slightly. It was quite foggy still, and the fog seemed to be getting thicker as the days went on. The Squire was eager for it to evaporate. Soon, he was hoping, and yet he wondered when it would actually leave Syliras.
Ferrin noticed a young man like himself, training against a sparing dummy. The squire was glad that their were at least a dozen people here that he could train from especially with this fog being here; things were getting difficult, probably not just for Ferrin, but for other people as well.
"Hey, wondering if you feel like sparring?" Ferrin asked as he eyed the man cordially, waiting for the man to respond, he didn't know what else to do, and he didn't feel like sparing against a dummy by himself, when he's already been doing it for a few seasons.
Ferrin scoffed at the thought.
A few more years of training to become a Knight, the squire was astonished by that. He needs to get back to training if he ever wanted to get any better.
He felt the need to take his training to an extra level. Something... more exotic. He needed the extra practice, and practice is always good to have, especially if you need to be good at something.
So... he felt that The Pits were the best option. Ferrin hadn't wanted to battle against bandits alone...
Eventually, the squire made his way to the Pits, bearing some plate armor, a shield, and a shortened broadsword, which was named Clivath made from the Mythryn Outpost blacksmith himself.
Slowly, he made way through the entrance of the Pits, kicking up dirt just slightly. It was quite foggy still, and the fog seemed to be getting thicker as the days went on. The Squire was eager for it to evaporate. Soon, he was hoping, and yet he wondered when it would actually leave Syliras.
Ferrin noticed a young man like himself, training against a sparing dummy. The squire was glad that their were at least a dozen people here that he could train from especially with this fog being here; things were getting difficult, probably not just for Ferrin, but for other people as well.
"Hey, wondering if you feel like sparring?" Ferrin asked as he eyed the man cordially, waiting for the man to respond, he didn't know what else to do, and he didn't feel like sparing against a dummy by himself, when he's already been doing it for a few seasons.