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Legend, Lore, and the Truth (pt. 2)

Posted on Mon Oct 16th, 2017 @ 11:02pm by Richard Coyle
Edited on on Mon Oct 16th, 2017 @ 11:20pm

Chapter: Light's Journey
Location: Mid-Morning, Guard Recruit Training ground
Timeline: Response to Legend, Lore, and the Truth

Richard grunted as a wooden training sword found its mark across his forearm. While the blow stung, Richard was more irritated with the fact that it had found its mark at all than the physical sensation. He had realized his mistake the instant he had made it, seeing his opponent shift ever so slightly in response to his guard. Realizing his mistake and correcting it before it was too late, however, were entirely different propositions. Still, the pain inflicted would help him not make the same error again. Instead, he would find an entirely new error to make.

Richard enjoyed sword practice, and overall his skills were growing. He could not say he was on par with many of the other trainees, though still not the top of his class. For the most part now, the instructors could no longer just offhandedly beat him without effort. They still won almost all of the bouts, but Richard felt better about this since now they at least had to work for it. Still, he had a long way to go to reach his own personal goal. There had been a saying that he and his friends in the Rangers had been fond of 'Train to be the toughest son-of-a-bitch anyone tries to kill.'

Having wrapped up the bout, the instructor was about to move to another trainee when there was some little commotion coming from nearby. Apparently, some of the recruits had gotten into a heated discussion over some instance of military history, apparently quite recent. Richard had no real notion of what they were talking about, but he gathered enough details to realize that they were questioning whether some group had beat rather long odds.

When a man stepped up, and everyone snapped to attention, Richard followed suit. He thought he recognized him, perhaps having seen him before in the High Lord's company. Apparently, he had been there on the day in question. Richard, for his part, found Hawke's explanation more than convincing. After all speed, surprise, and violence of action especially when coupled with fighting the enemy in detail rather than all at once was a winning strategy as old as time. Though when some of the other's didn't seem convinced, things got interesting.

He could see by the confidence with which Hawke issued his challenge that volunteering to be one of the four was to invite an ass-whooping, and so he demurred. Besides, this was the sort of thing that was always more fun to watch. Richard cheered along with the others and winced as blows were struck. Soon enough it was all over, and the four men who thought they knew better were sprawled out, moaning in the dirt.

Richard began to help one of the men up, shaking his head and smiling. He knew this particular trainee, he was a few bunks down from him in the barracks but did not know him all that well. Still, Richard couldn't help a little fun at his expense. "Haven't you ever heard to be wary of an old man in a profession where people usually die young?" He asked his still somewhat groggy comrade.

 

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