Completed (Empyreal Demesne) Meet Hector...Kill Him

Dess sets up Hector, a combat training apparatus.

(This is a thread from Mizahar's fantasy role playing forum. Why don't you register today? This message is not shown when you are logged in. Come roleplay with us, it's fun!)

While Sylira is by far the most civilized region of Mizahar, countless surprises and encounters await the traveler in its rural wilderness. Called the Wildlands, Syliran's wilderness is comprised of gradual rolling hills in the south that become deep wilderness in the north. Ruins abound throughout the wildlands, and only the well-marked roads are safe.

(Empyreal Demesne) Meet Hector...Kill Him

Postby Dessarian on August 19th, 2019, 2:33 pm

Image


Timestamp: 55th of Summer, 519

While his vision for the training grounds was still very much just that, Dess wanted to get something in place for those of the Meraki who needed to keep weapon skills sharp. While Sona and Briggs, under Toni's supervision, were building some simple wooden dummies for armed and unarmed combat training, Dess has a more complex training tool he brought from Sunberth. He wanted to get it set up while the rest of the training grounds were in development. He was expanding on some ideas for ways to help with practical training in magic like Reimancy.

The training apparatus consisted of two posts between which hung by chains a practice dummy crafted of wood and wrapped with thick rope. A wooden 'head' topped the main body. The 'dummy' had the freedom within the chains to move and sway some, giving a little more dynamic when attempting to strike it.

Dess had sketched out a potential layout for the training grounds in a nearby meadow, and he knew where he wanted to set up the device, which he called Hector. Getting the equipment out there would be the first task. The two main posts were heavy as was the dummy itself. Dess had cleared a path through the small band of forest leading to the meadow. He would need the wagon to haul Hector.


Dess knew virtually nothing about riding or driving. He had become acquainted with Kelski's gelding, Moth, simply from helping care for the animals and occasionally giving the gray horse a treat. But Dess was comfortable around the easy-going horse, and knew Moth was well capable of pulling the wagon. But he would need help.

Dess convinced Dawson to help get moth harnessed to the wagon. Dawson was experienced with hooking up wagons and plows in the fields of Syliras. Dess followed the farmer's instructions, placing the horse collar over Moth's neck as Dawson fit the girth. Then they worked the trace straps to attach to the wagon shafts. Finally, Dawson showed Dess how to put on the bit and bridle.

"How do you control him?" Dess asked. He understood the reins controlled the horse, but he wasn't sure how Moth was trained.

Dawson shrugged. "I am not an expert, but the horses I have seen you either tug on the rein on the side you want to turn, or you lay the opposite rein on their neck. Moth pretty much drives himself, if you use the reins to guide him consistently. A snap of the reins or a click seems to get him going. Pulling back evenly on the reins stops him. Lightly jerking back on them repeatedly will get him to back up. But if you are not used to driving a wagon, I wouldn't mess with that. Just make a big circle to turn around." Dawson advised.

Dess thanked Dawson as the farmer headed back to work. The Damazar patted Moth on the neck. "You going to go easy on me?" He teased the animal. Then he set to load Hector.

Words: 511
Last edited by Dessarian on August 27th, 2019, 3:29 pm, edited 1 time in total.
User avatar
Dessarian
Player
 
Posts: 84
Words: 107624
Joined roleplay: June 18th, 2019, 4:04 pm
Race: Human
Character sheet
Storyteller secrets

(Empyreal Demesne) Meet Hector...Kill Him

Postby Dessarian on August 21st, 2019, 12:54 pm

Image


Dess had grown stronger every day since they had arrived on the shores of Mathews Bay. He was still weak when they began the journey from Sunberth, though his wounds had healed under Ebon and Kelski's care. But the hard work of building the settlement had began strengthen Dess's lean muscles, which were now taxed as he loaded the training apparatus.

The posts were loaded into the wagon one at a time by setting one end on the edge of the wagon, then lifting the other and pushing it into the vehicle's bed. Jackson was passing by as Dess stood over Hector, deciding how to get him into the wagon by himself. The blacksmith discerned the Damazar's dilemma, and offered a hand in getting the heavy wood and rope object into the wagon, before heading to the forge.

Loading up Hector's hanging chains,a shovel and a waterskin, Dess finally climbed into the seat of the wagon. Taking up the reins, he recalled Dawson's instructions. With a snap of the leather straps and a click, he hoped Moth would understand. The gelding, to Dess's relief, stepped forward, and in a tick noted the weight of the load and began to walk. Moth took a slow pace, as if sensing the driver's inexperience. The horse was forgiving as well, intuitively turning along an unobstructed path under Dess's imprecise use of the reins. The wagon creaked as it rolled over the uneven terrain.

Moth did hesitate as they neared the opening into the forest where the path had been cleared. The trunks of larger felled trees had not been dragged to the mill yet, but lined the trail, making it easy to identify. But stumps still rose a few inches from the forest floor, and it would take a little more care passing through, so that Moth didn't trip up, or the wagon wheels suffer damage. Though, they should've rolled over them fairly well.

Dess looked through the trees. He could see the meadow on the others side of the small band of forest. "Alright Moth, lets get over there." The blonde man muttered to the grey horse, who waited patiently with only the flick of his tail and a flinch of his ear. Dess simply clicked his tongue and Moth slowly surged forward. A particularly high stump appeared before them, and Dess tugged on the reins to guide Moth around the obstacle. He turned the horse back too soon, however, and the wagon hung up as the rear wheel came against the stump. But Moth dug in his hooves and leaned into the harness, pulling the wheel over the edge of the stump. The wagon rocked as the wheel came off the other side.

They navigated the path and Moth pulled the wagon into the grassy meadow. Dess pulled back on the reins, coaxing Moth to a stop. Knowing he would be a while, Dess unfastened the horse from the harness, but left the headstall alone, so he could retrieve Moth when he was ready to return. The gelding wandered a few steps and began to graze on the rich meadow grasses.

Words: 520
Last edited by Dessarian on August 27th, 2019, 2:19 pm, edited 2 times in total.
User avatar
Dessarian
Player
 
Posts: 84
Words: 107624
Joined roleplay: June 18th, 2019, 4:04 pm
Race: Human
Character sheet
Storyteller secrets

(Empyreal Demesne) Meet Hector...Kill Him

Postby Dessarian on August 27th, 2019, 2:17 pm

Image


Taking a moment to gaze out over the meadow, Dess visualized what he had planned. Whether it came to fruition would rely in part on Kelski and the other Meraki. These grounds would be for their use, and while the Damazar was raised to fight, he did not assume to understand the needs of all who practiced different methods of combat. Besides, there would need to be some creative ideas for how the mages could practice honing the relationship between certain magic and the physical world. Some uses of reimancy required dexterity and precision. A sort of obstacle course could be built so that reimancers could fine tune the control of their res and elements.

For the time being, he had only one tool for training anything, and that was Hector. Recalling the layout he had sketched, Dess took up a shovel and walked over to the general area where he planned to install the practice dummy. Then, unceremoniously, he shoved the blade of the shovel into the soft earth, cutting through the meadow grass roots. The sound drew the attention of the gelding, who half lifted his head from his grazing to glance at the man before resuming his leisurely feeding.

Dess dug a deep hole. Ideally, some mortar or gravel at the base of the hole would help stabilize the post, but he didn't think about it before. Construction was not the martial artist's forte. But he made a hole deep enough to give the pole some stability. As Dess worked, beads of sweat gathered on his brow, and he wiped it away with the back of his hand. Planting the shovel blade first into the ground, Dess stripped off his shirt, tossing the garment into the wagon. His skin cooled as the light breeze brushed against his bared torso. Dess had recovered much of his muscle after his long recovery from the injuries of Sunberth. The hard work of building up the Demesne had served him well, and lean muscles now corded his torso and arms.

He dragged a pole from the wagon, wrestling the end of it into the hole, then set it upright. Trying to hold it as straight as he could, Dess shoved some dirt around the post with the shovel. It was awkward with one hand, but once enough had been back filled to keep the pole upright, Dess could shovel in the dirt with earnest. With the hole backfilled around the post, Dess stomped on the fresh soil to pack it down. The post shifted a little when he leaned on it. He would have to work on tamping down the dirt more, or shimming the hole to firm it up.

Next he dragged Hector from the wagon to the planted pole, he stretched the contraption's hanging chains out so that they laid with a little slack, one side towards the pole, the other where the second post would go. Once Dess had a location for the other pole, he set to digging the hole. Once it was dug deep enough, the second post was installed and back filled. With the two posts set up, the hard part was finished. Dess retrieved the water skin from the wagon and sat down on Hector to take a drink and a quick rest.

Words: 549
User avatar
Dessarian
Player
 
Posts: 84
Words: 107624
Joined roleplay: June 18th, 2019, 4:04 pm
Race: Human
Character sheet
Storyteller secrets

(Empyreal Demesne) Meet Hector...Kill Him

Postby Dessarian on August 27th, 2019, 2:46 pm

Image


Having his fill of water, Dess stood again and tossed the skin into the back of the wagon. Moving to Hector, who lay prostrate on the ground, the Damazar took up the first upper chain. He lifted up the wood and rope body, the strain causing him to grunt. To reach the hook on the post, Dess had to reach about a foot over his head. A little help, and a little practice, wouldn't hurt. He let Hector settle to the ground, but held onto the end of the chain.

Then Dess concentrated, murmuring a series of syllables that had become intuitive, as if his lips and tongue muttered them on their own. His brain, trained at the repeated sound, eased and sought focus on the djed throughout his body. It was willed to gather across the muscles of his upper back, shoulders and arms, so that Dess could sense the power infusing the tissue. Then, the heavy body was hoisted up with a burst of energy. The strength afforded Dess in that motion was such that Hector appeared to leap into the air. The chain link found the hook quickly as the dummy swung and bobbed from the almost violent upward movement.

Dess took few deep breaths to refuel his body after the magical exertion, then went back to work. Once the weight of Hector was on the first pole, hooking up the other upper and the two lower chains was much easier. Once the dummy was hung, Dess took a step back to check it out. He cocked his body quickly sideways, the leg facing Hector lifting, bending, then jabbing out horizontally so that the ball of his foot slammed into the rope-wrapped wooden body. Hector jolted and rocked violently in his chains, the wooden head mounted on a thick metal spring wobbled wildly.

Dess twisted back to face the dummy, his other leg stepping forward and moving him closer to Hector. The Damazar's hand struck out next, the heel of his palm slamming against Hector's chin. The blow caused the head to juke sharply. The strike was immediately followed up with a series of punches to the body.

Dess's arm swung wide from the side, his hand flat in line with his arm, thumb tucked against his palm. The ridge of his hand slammed against Hector's head, again causing it to violently bobble. Finally, grabbing Hector's 'shoulders', Dess drew himself almost against the body and brought his knee up against Hector in a simulated knee strike.

The Damazar stepped back, satisfied that Hector was ready. He looked at his hands. He had not had a proper means to work his strikes for a season. While his hands and wrists were conditioned for the hard surface of the training dummy, his skin wasn't. The rough, thick rope wrapped around Hector had left abrasions on Dess' knuckles, and some blood. But Dess didn't mind, he even smiled.

Words: 488
User avatar
Dessarian
Player
 
Posts: 84
Words: 107624
Joined roleplay: June 18th, 2019, 4:04 pm
Race: Human
Character sheet
Storyteller secrets

(Empyreal Demesne) Meet Hector...Kill Him

Postby Dessarian on August 27th, 2019, 3:29 pm

Image

"Has the mighty Damazar son's skin gotten soft?" A feminine voice lifted over the meadow in a mocking tone. Dess turned to see his cousin standing next to Moth, stroking the horse's mane. The gelding nuzzled the young blonde. The color of Darcee's hair, the hue of her eyes, the structure of her face nearly mirrored Dess's. She could have been his sister.

"You mean as soft as a philterer's?" He retorted, though when he thought about it, it was not much of an insult. Many women coveted soft hands. Kelski's weren't. While they were delicate and feminine, the Kelvic's palms were calloused from jeweler's tools, dagger hilts and the handles of garden tools. But Dess didn't find them unattractive in the least.

Darcee made her way towards Dess, a small bag over her shoulder. As she drew near, the Damazar woman offered her cousin a broad smile. "Some men like soft hands, not like you warrior types." She shot back. Darcee turned to look at Hector. "I can paint a face on him, a really mean, ugly face. That might inspire more ferocity." She chimed, though Dess knew her cousin well enough to know she was still teasing him.

"Go for it, cousin." Dess dared, giving a short laugh before putting an arm around her shoulders and giving a gentle squeeze and a kiss on her hair. The Damazar man always greeted Darcee with such affection. She was the only known living member of his family, and while Damazar's were not known for open displays of affections, Dess would let her know every day that he loved her. He had changed in a lot of ways since Kelski took him in.

"Oh," Darcee said suddenly, slipping from beneath Dess's long arm, "...I have something for you." She declared, digging through her leather bag. She pulled out something wrapped in several layers of burlap and handed it to Dess. "I have had this since I left home. I'm sorry I didn't give it to you earlier, I...just didn't know if you were ready." Darcee's voice grew quieter and more sheepish as the last words were spoken.

Dess took the bundle and lookd from it to Darcee. It must have some significance, if she felt he needed to be emotionally ready for it. He began to unwrap the burlap until the contents were revealed. It consisted of a metal bands and leather straps, and three, parallel blades with leather covers. Dess pulled off the sheathes to reveal the iron blades.

"I could only find one of your father's wrist razors, but I had no doubt he would what you to have it." Darcee offered, watching her cousin. Dess looked over the old weapon before gripping it in his hand and fastening it to his wrist and forearm. The three seven-inch blades protruded between his fingers, like the wicked claws of a great beast.

Glistening azure eyes shifted from the weapon to the woman. "It was his father's. The smith kept offering to replace the iron blades with steel, but dad would have none of it. He wanted it the way grandfather had it. Thank you." Dess managed, reaching to brush his hand gently against the side of his cousin's head. Taking a few steps back, Dess planted his legs and relaxed his knees in a fighting stance. Then he swung his clawed hand. It felt awkward, the weight unfamiliar to a man trained to know the exact feel, reach and reange of motion of his limbs. He tried a few strikes that came natural. an upper cut, front punch, a back hand. The strikes he knew so well would work with the blades of his fist, it would just take practice to get the feel of the weight and longer extension.

Finally, Dess walked up to Hector and swung a raking blow across the wooden head. The iron blades left three long gouges in the side of the dummy's head. Then Dess turned to Darcee. "Help me load up, and I will give you a ride back." Dess suggested, slipping off the wrist razor and examining it before retrieving the sheaths and covering the blades. The shovel was loaded back into the wagon and Moth hitched up. With some guidance from Darcee, Dess drove the wagon safely back to the tower.

Words: 720
User avatar
Dessarian
Player
 
Posts: 84
Words: 107624
Joined roleplay: June 18th, 2019, 4:04 pm
Race: Human
Character sheet
Storyteller secrets


Who is online

Users browsing this forum: No registered users and 0 guests