21st of Fall, 518 A.V.
The initial intention had been to go to the Sun’s Refuge early in the day to begin his investigation. However, when thinking about it beyond the moment of conception, Kynier realized that wasn’t the best of ideas. To impersonate a Sun’s Birth returning early in the day would mean that he’d be impersonating someone that had finished one of the night patrols. Which would require making a report to someone. There were many problems with that approach. Kynier had no idea where he could say he was patrolling or who the report was to go to. It seemed like his best chance was to avoid the authority figures altogether during this escapade. Feigning being a new recruit would work best on those that had no responsibility with new recruits.
Also, there was a strong possibility that he’d try to make a report on someone else’s patrol route. Or a route that they weren’t running. Too many uncertainties to begin to fathom. Then he realized that it would be wiser to enter the Sun’s Refuge closer to the middle of the day. At a time when more people would be going in and out of the district. Mostly, he just needed to get inside. The only other obstacle he was aware of was the check-in at The Gold Lodge tavern. At those two points of his loosely formed plan was it required to display proof of being a Sun’s Birth. Ember had assisted… more like demonstrated… how to use cosmetics to make the appearance of a scar where one did not exist.
On the back of his left hand was a thick coating of various things, none of their names did he remember regardless of how many times Ember repeated it. Its appearance was that of the eight-pointed sunburst. The coloration made it appear as though it were still in the process of healing. So then, Kynier would need to pretend that it was still sensitive. If they made it look as though it were mostly, or fully healed, then that would’ve implied that he had been in their organization for a long enough duration for someone to know him. Which would have been very counter-productive.
It was still too early to go out. Kynier was in the leather armor that he had procured, and it was taking some getting used to. The fitting wasn’t very comfortable as the sleeves were short. Whether that meant he had long arms, or the armorer didn’t understand the appropriate sizing of a man’s arm, Kynier didn’t know. Constant adjustments were being made to try and get comfortable. Pulling on the neckline, tugging on the cuffs to bring them further down, and other things like that. There were also the steel plates that were encompassing his limbs. The vambraces, rerebraces, cuisses, and greaves were all strapped down, though this time they felt more comfortable on the leather armor than they did on his regular clothing.
For some time, he had been walking around the Training Room in the armor, trying to get a sense of what it was like to move with so much protection. Kynier felt heavy and sluggish as he walked in circles. Drapped over his shoulders was not the magic cloak that he had acquired during one of his daring escapades, but the regular, mundane black wool cloak he used to wear. It had tears and rips in its fabric. It looked more fitting than the Mohair wool which just looked more upscale. If he was to pretend to be a grunt, then he’d have to be as uncomfortable as a grunt. Without the comforting magic of his cloak, Kynier felt himself perspiring quickly with all the extra weight, which also served as extra insulation.
After that, he had squared off against one of the training dummies. Kynier was carrying the largest number of weapons he ever had before. The longsword with the Sun’s Birth insignia engraved on the pommel as well as both his short swords were at his hips. At his back rested a dagger which was concealed beneath the cloak. And tucked away in his boot was his assassin’s dagger. The spy drew both his cold iron short blades and took his stance. One blade was held out at length to point at the dummy’s make-believe eyes, as the other was at an angle over his lead arm, almost resting on the bicep with the body slightly angled.
Kynier looked over his stance once before dropping out of it. He took a more… brutish position. He stood square with the target and held both blades up at forty-five-degree angles before him. The first stance was more for mobility. As a Sun’s Birth, he was supposed to be a bit arrogant and believe that his armor would protect him enough for quick, decisive attacks to finish his adversaries. Kynier worked on his cutting form by slowly bringing one blade up and cutting down at an angle against the training dummy. As the first hand came to rest, his second hand would mimic the motion exactly. The point was to establish a flow and get comfortable using both arms individually, yet together.
After several strokes he would slightly increase his speed to cut faster. All the while he remained conscious about not cutting himself with a reckless motion. It was tiring. The motion plus the weight of the armor on his upper and lower arms. Before long, the intensity of his sweat increased on his brow. More than that, Kynier struggled to find a rhythm with his breathing. The most comfortable pattern was to exhale on the cut and take short inhales when he raised his weapons. It did not take long before the X shaped pattern of the cuts became more and more noticeable on the training dummy.
When Kynier stopped he took a step back. Both cold iron blades where hanging at his sides and his breath was fast and loud. The cool air of the basement felt good in opposition to the lactic acid build up in his lungs. Kynier gave a glance to the materials that Ember had caked on the back of his hand. The false scar was not smearing. Ember said that she was using things that were more resistant to rain and sweat, but that large quantities could still distort and wash it away. So long as he didn’t rub at it, it should be fine.
NaNo Post: 1,072
Boxcode credit goes to Gossamer!
