Solo Temple Training

[Alric Lysane]

50th Fall 521 AV - Temple of the Unknown He still had aches from his adventures in the Storage Houses, he had come away alive at least but beyond that he was getting frustrated with his constant failures. Or half-failures he had to admit if her were being accurate. Overall though it meant that he was taking more time out to recover than he would have liked. Taking into account the fact he had been sock this season and the fact that he was trying to discover Craven secrets for Madeira he was being left with fewer days than he would like within which to actually survive. Don’t get the gold until I deliver and food and water can’t be stolen every day successfully, not three meals a day he begrudgingly conceded. No, he had to get better and so he had made his way to where he knew he’d get a decent amount of peace and quiet whilst still being large enough for what he wanted to achieve – the Temple of the Unknown. Rumours aide he had never had any issues there and it was almost the perfect playground. It had different floor levels, different floorings, rubble strewn everywhere and so many different holes and half-destroyed inner walls that it would be than adequate for his needs. “Training” he muttered to himself. He had reasoned that the only way to get better was to practise. Perhaps if he achieved a good level of skill it would open avenues for him that were currently closed and he wasn’t about to say no to further opportunity. He had even formulated a list of skills he thought he would need to develop, or improve, and had taken the leaf out of Moritz’s book in the regard that he had been as logical and exact with it as possible. Stealth, Climbing, Acrobatics, Running – all of these were on the list alongside others that were perhaps harder to develop without application in more dangerous ways. Throwing his cloak onto a still largely intact wooden bench and placing his gloves atop it he scanned about with his eyes to seek out a way of training them all in some sort of routine, that way maximising efficiency. If he could get it all done in one cycle then he’d take it. He mused for a time, gaze flicking form the rubble on the floor to the next storey and the hole in the floor that faded into a half-vanished wall, scanning over the next hole in the second storey some twenty paces onwards and the destroyed stairwell beyond that seemed to have some pieces still left, jutting here and there. He nodded, a rough course plotted with a run back to the start at the end that he could extend into a few laps to keep the blood pumping. He doubted it would go so smoothly as his mind saw it but then he’d rather fail here and be as safe as was possible than fail out on the streets and fall victim to blades or traps. His course planned he decided for a slow and methodical first cycle just in case things were more unstable than they appeared at first glance. He started his creeping portion, feet placed carefully, seeking the gaps in the rubble and trying not to disturb it too much. He tried for silent steps, balls of his feet taking his weight softly and seeking to shift him along with as little time in contact with the ground as possible. There were still cracks and crunches as he went, a few steps misplaced and slight wobbles in his balance from being unused to the way he was walking, He winced with each crack of small clumps of mortar, betraying his attempt at stealth, resolving to try to make less and less sound with each attempt. Counting ten crunches and a few scuffing sounds he reached the end of the strewn flooring. Reaching the half-demolished wall he clambered atop it and wobbled for a moment while seeking balance. He paused, breathed, arms out and dancing as he moved and started stepping. Slow and methodical steps, hips jerking every so often and having to rebalance. He reached the sloping point and realised he had to duck down somewhat which made it harder to both keep his balance and the strength of his legs, they were feeling tense already. He slipped a couple of times, foot slipping down the side of the wall before catching himself and pushing up with the stable leg to regain footing. He made it to the hole to the second storey and tentatively pulled himself through, slipping though and heaving with his arms to get his legs to follow. On the second story now he puffed in a few breaths and looked down, really hoping he’d not find a short trip back down to the ground. The second floor had many holes and some exposed wooden beam from long lost flooring here and there. This was the true obstacle course and he started it with some semblance of trepidation. He kept his footwork as silent as possible but he had to test whether his weight would be held as he went and so he had to go heel first and roll which was noisier he found. He picked his way carefully, across stone where possible but one section was a balancing practise again across a wooden plank that bent and groaned as he passed over it. The stairwell came next and he paused, plotting a way down from the random assortment of remaining wooden stump of what he assumed had been stair steps and the stone remaining from the solid construction. He placed his feet in place first and then took the leap of fait by transferring his hands too. He didn’t fall immediately, which was a pleasant surprise, and so he picked his way down slowly, testing the hand and foot holds before committing his weight. He slipped once of twice but with his feet and so still managed to stay in place. Until the last few feet where he lost all grip and slid down to land at the bottom and roll sideways to absorb some impact. He pushed himself up in the falling dust and saw his palms were already slightly roughed up. He rubbed them together and after a moment’s pause began the lapping of the main open area, jogging at first and then running as fast as he was able to in the enclosed area without running straight into a wall. He felt his blood pumping, his body warm up and loosed. Mostly though he noticed that he started to run out of breath quickly, he was not as fit as he had once been. Sweat started to bead as he finished the last lap and came back to the start of the course. Already feeling challenged and lower in energy he wasn’t looking forwards to the next laps. And the many ones after them. It was necessary but it didn’t mean he had to enjoy every moment.

[Alric Lysane]

Taking a few deep breaths to regain oxygen but not wanting to lose the warmth of his limbs from the running he moved straight into the sneak walk again, feet a bit surer after the initial practise but still far from perfect. He felt the adrenaline cause slight shakes and frowned, concentrating an keeping his feet still and purposeful as they picked their way through the rubble. He didn’t know if perhaps he had made an easier path after one go around but the scuffling wasn’t repeated, though the crackling and crunching did. He kept his mental tally and as he got to the end there was some sense of satisfaction – no scuffing and eight crunching sounds. He had done better. With renewed determination and sweat starting to bead more heavily he jumped atop the wall and began the balancing act. He was quicker this time, trying to simulate a real scenario on the streets, but that meant he was rushing and he slipped completely – though he nly slipped once this time. It was a bad one though and left him staying atop the wall only because one knee had hooked over it. Legs aching from both the impact and course he groaned as he heaved himself through the hole, rubbing his leg a few times before standing up on the other side. He threw himself into the next part and wobbled more as his leg strength was less now. Arms became more important, moving to help him balance. The wooden board grumbled once more and he tried to get across quickly just in case. This was another mistake and he almost lost balance completely, saved only by jerking his hips back and then whirling his arms. He didn’t fall down the hole but he did stumble and roll over the second floor once off of the board, sprawling slightly before forcing himself up with a frustrated growl and making his way to the climb down The climb went smoothly this time at least, he didn’t fall. Knowing what hand holds were usable made it easier, there was less testing and so his grip was not under significant strain for as long. Feet led the way, toes gripping onto their holds as hands shifted down to follow and gaining room for feet to move further down once more. He made it to the ground and nodded in satisfaction, flexing his aching fingers a few times as he started on the run. He tried to be quicker this time, counting how long it took him to do the number of laps and daring himself to skid into the wall – which he did once by stepping on some rubble and gaining a lovely shoulder barge into stone for his trouble. But he was away again quickly, sweat now staining his clothing and breathing ragged. Muscles had begun to ache but it was the satisfying ache of a body worked well. That was for the better as he had many more cycles to go yet. He took a break for a swig or two from his waterskin, raking his hair back and breathing hard before the next cycle would begin.

[Alric Lysane]

He sighed and began again, the rhythm of the series of obstacles now clear and with breaks for water and to regain his breath it became possible for him to run, climb, sneak and balance it several times over. Each time ho got slightly better but also more tired and generally ached further. The stealth portion of the course was the quickest for him to master – the third go around he had six crunches and one scuff, the next 3 crunches and no scuffs, eventually by the seventh run he managed to pick his way through without any noise beyond the soft pressing of his leather boot upon the floor. He had to throw a new layer of rubble down eventually but even so he kept up the silent runs, a few times making a mistake and some noise but largely satisfying his standards. The balancing was harder for him to master and he hadn’t even come close by the time that he finished making his cycles through the rough course. He fell many times, each time his legs became more numb and likely when he checked later he’d have mild bruising from his efforts. He had hoped that by then end he’d have had more grace but that was a forlorn hope. Despite the fact that hem managed to get up the wall a few times without incident and across the wooden beam without stumbling twice he still looked like a madman – arms flailing, legs wobbling and hips all over the place. He’d have to work on it for a lot longer, he knew, before he’d consider it a safe skill to use on the streets. Acrobatics he thought Moritz had referred to it as. If so he was not acrobatic, not yet by half. The climbing was easy enough to get used to without falling, though fall he did still. It always seemed to be towards the bottom of the climb down and so not too dangerous. He started out fine, fingers and toes seeking and anchoring into their holds but by the end the strength of the anchor was gone. He thought that he had reasonable technique, it seemed natural to him to climb and there were only so many ways you could move up and down a wall without getting fancy. His grip strength and muscles though required development. He had found also, by the end, that his palms were quite tattered – an unexpected side effect. They would also need toughening up some. Still he managed all of the climb downs without killing himself and so he accepted it as a win. As for the running, it had tired him out immeasurably. He was soaked with sweat and his breathing had gone past ragged and into the gulping fish variety of inhalation. The technique was rough and ready, he had no real notion that running required thought to get good at it, it just seemed something everyone did, but he had practised enough this day to realise that there was more to it. His legs burned and chest still heaved as he slumped down next to his cloak and gloves, resting and taking stock of the morning’s efforts. He was going to do one more run, just to see if he could get it all right all at once but he needed a break. He gulped down the last of the water from his waterskin and made a note to venture to Yedra’s Fountain after his business was finished at the Temple.

[Alric Lysane]

Once he had recovered a suitable amount he pushed himself up and took himself back to the start for one more try at perfection – or as close as he was going to get to it this day. His limbs felt leaden and heavier than before he had started. His palms screamed at him and his back had a dull ache to it. He was tired too, his focus starting to slip. He rubbed his face and refocused himself, he could push himself through one more run. He began and started to step, keeping to the balls of his feet and now having found he could brush the clumps of mortar and pebbles aside quietly with the side of his foot he did so as he went. He managed a no noise run and nodded to himself as he clambered atop the wall. He took it slow and steady, speed was his enemy on this part he had found and so he was deliberate in his stepping, angled feet on a diagonal so that his toes and heel bent slightly, providing a bit more balanced stability. He wobbled many times as he methodically made his way towards the hole in the ceiling, arms out but not flailing now – he had learnt that flailing just made it worse. Panic was not his friend when it came to balance, it was surprising that it had taken him so long to realise that. He made his way, heaving himself through to the second floor and rolling onto his back, groaning before rolling and pushing himself up. The plank balance came next and he kept to the same principles, plank groaning ominously the more he made his way, wobbling and stepping slowly. Too slowly it appeared, just as he was about three quarters of the way across the snapping sound came and he dove off of the plank and managed to get his top half over the gap. Swinging his legs, leg that felt twice as heavy, he hooked them over and managed to stay on the second floor. He sighed and crawled to the climb down. Again he took it slowly and grunted quite a bit due to his sore fingers and ripped up palms. He made it down, thankfully without the wall giving way. Dumping himself down to the ground floor he began to slow and now dis-spirited jog around the room, completing the laps just as he felt he was about to pass out. He slumped down next to his belongings once more and breathed deeply until he could return his heaving chest to normal. He sat for a while, his body complaining at him and wishing he had more water. He eventually pulled his cloak over himself and slipped one his gloves with winces. His time at the Temple was almost over, merely a short rest and he’d be on his way.

[Alric Lysane]

As he sat he reflected upon the morning’s efforts, about what had gone well and what had been less then successful. The latter was listed easily enough and included the obvious falling, flailing and generally proving that he had either fallen out of his abilities or had never been as good as he thought he had been. He wasn’t sure which one was better than the other. Still, it was a good revelation, one which forced him to admit and then take steps to improve upon. He was still confident in his abilities, he was better than most street kids, it was simply that the world had opened up a bit more for him. Perhaps it is all this meeting new people with their own perspectives and foibles… he mused to himself, scratching his chin. Either way he had learned that footsteps were only as silent as where you were stepping, what part of the foot hit first and whether you had time to pick your way properly. Balancing had been a steep learning curve but he had learned that panic was the enemy and sudden movements were fatal. He also knew now that it was more difficult than it seemed and that foot placement was also key, as well as the strength of what you were stepping on. Climbing was less about the technique and more about strength and resilience – he had little of both and his hands had the wrong callouses to protect against wear and tear – he would need to actively work on that, which meant regular pain for his palms until they were used to it. And running…running was painful and he was not as fit as he remembered. But he had learned he was able to push himself further than he had thought and that rhythm was more important than speed when you were flagging. Heel to toe, heel to toe, rocking after a fashion. He shrugged and realised that it all added up to the fact that he needed work. He’d put some time aside for it between making a living and the investigations for Madeira. It would be difficult and he might only just squeak by without starving this season but he’d give it his best shot. After all, if you were going to fail you might as well fail trying something difficult. He snorted at such foolishness and levered himself to his feet with a groan. He had also learned about pain. Leaving the Temple of the Unknown he made his way towards his home, he’d grab some food before setting out to investigate Cravens. He had made some progress but he suspected it wouldn’t be enough – he needed more. He frowned as he thought of what he might have to do for it.

[Alric Lysane]

Your Grades Alric Lysane Skills Acrobatics – 4 Body Building - 3 Climbing – 4 Endurance - 4 Observation – 1 Planning – 1 Running - 4 Stealth – 4 Lores Acrobatics: Using Arms For Balance Climbing: Building Callouses Climbing: Finding Toe & Finger Holds Running: Heel-Toe Rhythm Stealth: Different Surfaces Make More Noise Stealth: Slow, Purposeful Steps Stealth: Use Balls of Feet