The World of Layonara
Character Development => Development Journals and Discussion => Topic started by: jadewillow on December 01, 2007, 05:58:33 PM
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Name: Flynn de Ballard
Age: 28
Class: Bard
Race: Human
Alignment: CG
Deity: None
Flynn is a product of the seedy and criminal ridden streets of Fort Vehl. His mother was a bar maid, and his father was a drunk. Flynn spent most of his childhood near the docks to pan handle for coin from strangers passing through. He was a handsome boy and did fairly well until he got older and could no longer play the cute boy. At the age of 13, he gathered a few of his mates to put together a singing group. He thought they might have better results down at the docks than just pan handling. They named themselves The Salty Tongues and did quite well. After a hard days singing down at the docks, Flynn and his mates would entertain themselves with swordplay and grog. They began with wooden swords and spirits infused with fermented wood. They were both cheap to make and somewhat harmless. Such occasions would result in many bruises and usually blurred vision either from a knock on the head, or too much spirit, or both. However, Flynn became quite the swordsmen for a self-taught hak, and soon became well known throughout Fort Vehl and would frequently have challenges from locals at the arena. When Flynn was almost 17, one particular challenger came forward. He was not from Fort Vehl, and was quite secretive about his origins. He came to arena and watched Flynn and his mates take on all comers. Once it looked as if no more would come forward, the stranger stood up and proposed a wager to Flynn and his mates. At this point, Flynn had quite the savings from his singing down at the docks. The stranger bet Flynn and his four mates that they could not lay a blow on him. He would use an old tree branch he picked up off the ground, and they could use iron swords. Flynn and his mates all laughed at the stranger. The stranger did not make an expression, and Flynn realized he was serious.
Flynn “Ow much then stranger?”.
Stranger “How much to you have lad?”
Flynn “217 gold coins”.
The stranger nodded and stepped into the arena. Flynn and his mates surrounded the stranger and began to close in on him. The stranger moved like flowing water, and was in five places at once. Before Flynn could even swing at him, Flynn was hit in the back of the head with the tree branch. All five of them charged him, and all five ended up on their faces with nasty strikes to the face, head, or groin area. It was over in about 30 seconds. As the five lay squirming on the ground, the stranger reached for Flynn’s pouch of gold and left without a word.
Flynn woke up the next day with the worst hang-over he had ever had and two missing teeth. At that moment he realized he was but a big fish in a very small pond.
Flynn, looking down at his welted arms and legs, said “There must be more than this.” He packed his things that very moment and headed out from Fort Vehl to explore the world and make a difference.
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Have my eyes been shut all these years. Certainly, my ears have been. This evening I met the most extraordinary man. What style, what presence, and what voice. His name was Farros and he appeared like a beacon of light coming directly from Xeen’s lips. His garb was of the finest silk densely and intricately woven into an almost magical aura around his body. I looked down at my own attire in shame, and glanced back up in awe. However, when he spoke, I truly felt I was hearing the voices of time—the past, present, and future all in one. It cut through me like a spear through the jungle. I knew I was in the presence of something special, but when he sang...when he sang...*takes a deep breath*...words would only sully it. It can not be described with our worldly trappings. This was a man I could learn from. I knew then that there was something greater out there, an existence that I may be able to catch a glimpse of through this man—Farros. I must seek this man out and learn what I can from him. I have been an island for too long.
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Today in the big city of Port Hemp. I met Farros the glorious bard. He was kind enough to show me his instruments.
"You must have an instrument my apprentice. If you wish to command your voice through the spirits of the enemy. The instrument you pick is a personal choice. There are many to chose from. Chose one that you feel comfortable with. I prefer the guitar, but others prefer the lute, the madolin, or even the chimes. It is completely up to you. Start with simple materials, then, when you get better, you can start using instruments made of Oak, Mahogonay, and even Yew. Practice my apprentice, practice. There is no substitute."
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I have embarked on a journey to find the best taverns in all the lands. This has given me the opportunity to meet many new people and see many new places. Hopefully this will also give others some guidance on which taverns are best for them. Many of the taverns on my list are in remote areas. I will require help finding them and navigating the treacherous areas on the way. I look forward to these adventures, and experiencing these wonderful places of refuge and relaxation.
http://forums.layonara.com/wild-surge-inn/151402-traveling-bards-tavern-reviews.html
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On one of my excursions to visit the taverns across the land, I have had the opportunity to sing for my comrades in battle. My voice grows stronger after every song, and my comrades appear to enjoy having me along even if I can't contribute with my weapon as much as I would like. The songs inspire them and make them move better in battle. It is a joy to be able to inspire others this way. But I must be careful with my new found talents. They can also be very dangerous. Just the other day, I knocked over my entire party as I belted out a roar to chase our enemies away. I require more training, and some guidance from the skalds in the land to truly master my voice, and learn how to control it.
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Today while searching for Taverns on Dregar I ran into one of the Skalds of the land. His name was Hardragh, and he agreed to chat with me a bit about his lineage and the Skald tradition. He mentioned that the Skald tradition goes back many millennia, and that it originated in the northern icy towns of Krashin. I guess they had to do something to stay warm at night. He even agreed to show me how he could send the enemy fleeing with just his voice. I had never heard anything like it. A rumbling that came from the bowels, followed by a short pssst, and then a horrific bellowing that sent everyone running. I will never forget that sound. Hardragh was even kind enough to show me a few exercises I could do with my voice to help develop this amazing sound. I have rigorously been doing those exercises every night before I go to sleep.
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Hardragh did not stop with the Song of Fear. He also showed me another song that sounds more like a dying Siren than a song. This one makes his enemies deaf! Even more surprising is that it makes them blind as well. He was kind enough to show me some exercises to develop this unique sound. Three times a day I should stand on my head while drinking a stout and yodeling at the same time for five minutes. I was a bit skeptical, but if there is something that will help me develop that sound, I am willing to try it.
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Today I made a visit to the Caring Hope Inn for some libations and relaxation. After a few of Petar's rather average brews, I noticed it was time for my exercises. Perhaps a bit inebriated and not really thinking twice about my routine, I found a good corner in the tavern and proceeded with my exercises. As I got to my last one, I stood on my head, as Hardargh had described, took a drink, and began to yodel. Needless to say, the libation did not take the ordinary route and proceeded to run out of my nose. However, I persisted until I heard a series of loud yelling and screaming.
"WHAT THE HELL DO YOU THINK YOU ARE DOING?", said Petar
I glanced up from my upside down position in confusion.
"GET DOWN ON YOUR FEET RIGHT THIS INSTANCE!", said Petar
Wiping mead from my forehead and hair, I came back down to the upright position to discover a rather large group pointing and laughing at me. In my condition I had forgotten that I was dawning my traditional kilt attire, and had obviously been exposing myself to the entire bar.
Blushing a bit, "Petar, I was simply doing my voice exercises, I did not realize..."
"I will not have that kind of conduct in my Inn." said Petar
"But Petar, I am sorry, but there aren't even any women in here.", I said
"Regardless, you must go. In fact, you are banned from this establishment for one full year.", said Petar
"But Petar..."
"No buts, that's final. NOW GET OUT!"
Embarrassed and humbled, I grabbed my things and walked out taking a mental note not to practice that exercise in public.
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Hardragh has surprised me with his willingness to help me understand the ways of the Skald. He showed me another song that is truly amazing. This one seems to drain the will and desire from an enemy. They appear lethargic and weak after the waves of this song consume them. It is but a small modification of one of the previous movements he showed me. Once I can master those, I should be able to catch on to this one fairly easily.
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Ahh, long has it been since I have had the pleasure to speak with Farros the Skald of much acclaim. He was kind enough to loan me a guitar so that I might practice my songs, and work on my voice. It is a beautiful thing, made from the finest grain of oak, and crafted with the utmost precision with curves that are reminiscent of a full bodied women. Oh, and the sound, the sound...like a babbling brook from the heavens. Someday I must learn to craft such an instrument. But for now, I am thankful of Faros for his generosity and kindness.
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In reference to the slaughters of the Aeridin children in Silkwook:
Today, at the One Eyed Harpy, I met with the man that most closely fit this description. This is a man I had traveled with before, a man of dubious reputation, but a man, none the less, who had proven a great comrade on the battlefield. Although, not his first weapon of choice, I had seen him use the axe and whip on occasion with lethal results. Putting my life at risk, I confronted him and asked if he knew anything regarding this slaughter. He reluctantly said he did. According to him, he was not the one that perpetrated this crime. Instead it was a half-orc with similar features that did the deed. He apparently overheard a conversation at The One Eyed Harpy between a lady in dark blue and a half-orc with a brownish robe and yellow patterns on it. The lady was accompanied by a man in red full plate and a sword who said nothing, but just looked on coldly. They were joined by the half-orc after having been at the Inn for sometime. According to my contact, she placed the order, and the half-orc carried it out. My contact had said that he was warned about his lady by a very knowledgeable individual of the Fort Vehl under belly, but had disregarded the warning and proceeded to enter the One Eyed Harpy for a drink. This is when he over heard the conversation.
Now, I know what you are thinking. "it was not me, but someone that looks and acts like me", is a fairly flimsy defense. I reemphasized the importance of the matter (his is not known for his metal capabilities), and negotiated a deal for him to get more information on the lady and the half-orc from his contacts in Fort Vehl. He reluctantly agreed, but for a fee. He wants 5,000 coin to reveal any additional information regarding the lady that he gets from his contacts. He then promptly headed out to talk with his contacts.
I await his bird.
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Flynn is sitting at the bar in the Scamp engaged in his regular morning routine. He has a plate of eggs and ham in front of him, and a tankard of barely wine in one hand. He is reading a large tome entitled “The Lands and People of Krashin”. Roderick, the Innkeeper, approaches his stool.
“Flynn, this come for you in the night”
Flynn lifts his gaze suspiciously. Roderick extends his hand with a small brown parchment envelop, places it next to his plate, shrugs, then goes back to work. Flynn takes a bite of ham and a swig of barely while staring at the mysterious package. He then picks it up, slowly tears the side off the envelope, blows it open and takes out a letter.
Flynn, my dearest. I regret to inform you that your father has passed. I know you and he did not have much of a relationship, but perhaps you could come home and say goodbye for the final time. It would mean so much to me.
Your Loving Mother
Flynn starred at the letter for a moment, then set it down calmly. Without expression, Flynn continued to finish his breakfast looking straight ahead.
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Today I leave for home to see my father put to rest. My emotions are mixed regarding this. It feels like years since I was just a squalling child on the docks of Fort Vehl. Although, my father was never in my life (he spent most days at the bottom of a bottle), those were good times for me. Those were days of innocence, days of purity, and days of possibilities. I did not know what I know now regarding my father-- what a foul and despicable man he was for not wanting to be part of his son’s life. I despised him for that. Part of me feels glad that he got what was coming to him. He was only 48. However, part of me feels sad regarding the loss of a man I never knew, and now, will never know. The few memories I have of him in my life are played over and over again. In my youth, he would come home once a year to celebrate his ancient religious holiday. During these occasions there was plenty of drink, but also plenty of merriment and plenty of singing. I cherished and looked forward to that day every year. As I set out on my journey home to say my final farewells, I strangely feel closer to him now than ever when he was alive.
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Today I met with an old mentor of mine, Hardragh. He had showed me the ways of manipulating his voice to stir the emotions of others a few years back. I have been mystified by his ability ever since. But today he agreed to take a walk with me to his homeland, Krashin; a place he hadn't been to in over 20 years. We strolled through the snow covered fields and talked of life, death, and faith. Before we knew it, we had made it as far as the Wolverine Camp. A man approached us as we got closer. He was scrawny and terribly thin. Said he was out looking for food for his family. He said they had just moved to the Camp due to being haunted by spirits or memories or something. He was quite nervous and evasive when I pressed him on this. Hardragh and I were giving him some fresh bear meat, when out of the blue, he was attacked by a small army of skellies. When I say small, I refer to their stature. Miniatures of some sort. They struck him down very quickly, and then came after us. With Hardragh's very capable voice and a few good strokes from my trusty long blade, we dispatched them. The sun was getting low on the horizon, so we decided to camp there for the night. Just as we were about to go to sleep, we were approached by a very hectic shade or spirit of some sort. He was ranting and raving about some song, his life’s work that someone stole. He was put to rest with it in a copper tube, and someone dug him up and stole it. He quickly ran off in pursuit of his song. Hardragh and I decided we should investigate further. We continued on to the Wolverine Camp. We came upon a woman and two children by a campsite. Hardragh and I ventured this was the wife of the man that was killed earlier. I proceed to tell the woman (in the presence of her children) that her husband had been killed. She was distressed, and annoyed that I would break that news to her in front of her children. I fail to see why the truth is for adults only. If anything, it is more important for children to hear it then adults. At any rate, she continued to dismiss the children to bed. We began to talk of the recent events, and told her of the shade we meet on the way there. She said their family had been moving about since they had begun to be haunted by that shade. It would sing at all hours of the night on the best nights, and come for blood on the worst. She told me that her husband had come home with a copper tube one night, and that’s when it began. Hardragh and I surmised the man had dug up the shades song, and stole it. She proceeded to go into her tent and retrieve the tube and hand it to me saying she never wanted to see it again. I proceeded to open it up, and take from it an old piece of vellum. On it was written a song, complex in its intricacies, and with many layers. It was the most beautiful piece of work I had seen. Just then, the shade returned and said that that was HIS SONG. My greed got the better of me, and I refused to give it to him. He agreed that if we played it together (it required at least three instruments) he would be released from his bind, and he would let me keep it. I was reluctant at first to play a song written by a shade. Hardragh, and his free spirit, convinced me to give it go. After all, you only live once. What’s another 20 years in the grand scheme of things. We all started in unison. It moved something in me immediately. I felt I was experiencing something forbidden, like a child who had just stole a jar of cookies, my instinct was to run, but my longing to hear the remainder of the song keep me planted and strumming away. I noticed all others living things had scurried away from once they came. It was the just the three of us, the shade, Hardragh, and I making the most moving music I had ever heard. Once it was over, the shade dissipated on the wind, and was no longer. I turned to Hardragh and said “What was that thing”. He responded, “Most likely a Skald in life from these parts, but one whose peace was disturbed by that silly man. He can rest now.” I nodded slowly, absorbing all that had transpired. I looked down in my hands, and I still possessed the written song, the most moving song I had ever heard. It became clear that this was the key to my understanding the ways of the Skald. I would study this sheet until I perfected every last note and stanza.
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"Blasted chain mail!. I might as well be wearing a suit of bells mate. Not only do the enemies hear me from a mile away, these blasted chinks disrupt my limited call on the Al'North. Just today I was running though the Great Forest and stumbled on a group of biggies that seemed to be waiting for me. Unprepared, I tried to call on the Al'North to become unseen, but this blasted chain mail disrupted the spell. Died on the spot. There must be a better way. *shakes his head*. Bah! Just get me another ale lad."
// Flynn at the tavern after a long day in the Forest
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While getting warm at the campfire at Miritrix, I ran into one of my fellow Skalds Sil. We caught up on our lives and traded stories of our adventures. One frustration I expressed to her was how all the good armors interfere with my limited call on the Al'North. Being a Skald, it is my nature to be in the midst of a battle. I can't sit on the sidelines lobbing ice spells at the enemies. I need to feel the shock wave reverberating through my arms and shoulder of a good blow with my sword. As a result, I need a good strudy layer of protection cuz let's face it, I'm not the young swashbuckler I once thought I was. Sil proceeded to show me a neat trick she has learned. She can cast spells when fully geared up in Full Plate armor. This was intriguing, but apparently it only works for easier spells. The good spells are still a bit too complicated for her to pull off.
Sil suggested if that didn't meet my needs I should look up a Spellsword. It had been a while, but I remembered an old friend of mine named Ira was able to master the Al'North while fully armored. I will see if I can track my old friend down.
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The last I traveled with our friend Ira was in a dismal snake pit on Belinara. On that trip he unfortunately fell when he accidentally found himself in front of the group. He was jumped by a nest of snakes that quickly sunk their poisonous fangs into his fair hide. It was one of the most gruesome deaths I have seen in a long time. His skin turned a ashen color, and his eyes looked as though they had filled with milk. I hope he has recovered from that fall. No one I have spoken to has seen him since.
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No signs of my old comrade Ira. I hope he has recovered from the snake pit. Aside from my concern for Ira, this does present a problem. It will be difficult to learn the ways of the Spellsword on my own. I would be much better off finding someone that has already done it. Now I do remember an old friend of mine that was looking into the craft, but I am ashamed to say it has been so long I don't know if she ever found what she was looking for. I will need to look her up again. It will be good to catch up with Abi.
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At last, my search for a Spellsword is over. Last night at the crossroads I was fortunate enough to run into both Ira and Abi. It was good to see them both again, and in good health. Prior to heading into the Misted Village for some good old fashion bandit beating, they were kind enough to show me their unique art.
Ira, while in full copper dragon plate, agreed to show me how he casted without being interrupted. He began with a very slight gesture, but then began to move his arms around fairly actively. All the while, his body moved in complete harmony with the movement of his plate. When you thought one plate would clink against another, he moved his body just so slightly to avoid any such contact. The spell went off without a sound (other than his voice). Very impressive. Ira said he did not know exactly how he did it, but that it just came naturally.
Abi, on the other hand, was a bit more aware of how she was casting while in armor successfully.
She said “Flynn, this should come naturally to you. It is very much like dancing. You just need to learn how each kind of armor moves, and then adjust your casting motions ever so slightly to avoid interruptions. Think of it as a ballroom dance, but your partner is your armor instead of some floozy you just met.” *Abi smiles*
She proceeded to cast while dawning a nice suite of Malar leather, swirling her hands and moving her body in synch with her armor avoiding any interruptions. The spell went off without a hitch. Again, very impressive.
I thought about what she said, that it is was very much like dancing, and this made complete sense to me. With all my years dancing in taverns and balls to entertain, making just a few adjustments should not be that difficult. The hard part will be learning how each kind of armor moves. However, if I start with the lighter armors I should be able to figure it out. Perhaps someday I could even learn to cast in full plate.
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*Flynn thinks to himself at the tavern alone after a long day of exploration and combat*
How long have I been doing this? It seems so long I don't remember anything else. Great friends have come and gone so many times, I have lost count. In the end, it will be me alone that makes that final journey. And I dare say I am probably closer than I'd like to admit. Again more visits from the Soul Mother than I can count. I did, however, live longer than my father. I wonder what he is doing now. Can he even see me now? Would he be proud? *shrugs* Don't matter much anyways, he was dead to me long ago. Now it is only myself, my craft, and my sword.
*A buxom brunette approaches him seductively*
"You that bard aint you? The one with the voice like velvet, and that can dance the dress right off a woman?"
*A twinkle in Flynn's eye returns*
"I've been called many things lass and most of em much worse than that. What is your name?"
"Why I'm Jacklyn. Can you juggle too?"
"I can do many things lass. Are you from around here?"
"Me, I guess I'm from everywhere. That's a big sword you carry there fella."
"It's late lass. Time for me to turn in".
"Ya want company tonight?" *she brushes back her hair seductively*
"I got all the company I need tonight lass" *Flynn pats his sword*
Flynn proceeds to empty his pint, lift his sword while standing in one smooth motion, and heads to his room.
He quickly dresses in some silk sleeping gear, and proceeds to sharpen his sword. He handles it as if it is an extension of himself with complete focus. As if he was filling the sword with a portion of his own spirit. When done, he sheaths it and lays it beside him on the bed and falls asleep instantly.
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*ABi and flynn in the arena at Vehl
"Hiya Flynn, glad to see ya!" While giving you a warm hug in greeting, "Im glad you got my bird and could make it and that you wanted my help still."
"Are you ready for some training then? I got some great exercises if your sure up for them?" She says cheerfully, although you get the impression it might be kinda nasty.
Smilingly as she speaks in her happy high pitched way when she gets excited, "Ive been going through my old journal lately and have been thinking alot about my training recently. Trying to think about how i can help you the most."
She then muses almost imperceptibly to herself for a moment, "I've lost alot in my head, but i seem to be remembering alot too as I go over it again and again. Its like its there...just..."
Then reverting to her happy self, she goes on. Clapping her hands together as she steps back and sizes you and your weapon up for second, she lets her eyes narrow briefly and a slightly wicked smile crosses her face.
"So, Im not sure what you've learned on your own and what Ira has helped you out with at this point. I know you said he was showing you a little bit about casting in armor. Which is good, but you need to remember that's just a small part of what being a spellsword is about and what we can do." Her voice seeming to have become more serious in tone towards the end.
For a moment she gazes at you as she runs scratches her head thoughtfully for a moment as if deciding where to begin.
She then looks at you mischievously and and snaps her fingers, "I GOT IT!"
Abi then runs and gets a couple of training dummies and sets them into the middle of the room firmly.
"The first thing is to work on your concentration, casting, and moving around in a hurry. When your fighting you know theres alot going on all at once. SOmetimes you have to fight offensively, and sometimes defensively as the situation warrants." Her voice deceptively cheerful as she contiunues on, "So I want you to run around the arena as fast as you can, and cast some spells at the dummies while you go. Its harder than it looks!"
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Flynn looks at Abi with doubt.
"Thanks for trying to teach me lass. But you sure this is gonna help. I don't run much no more less I'm running after a dame." says Flynn with a smile
"Flynn, trust me!".
Flynn shrugs, gets up off his chair laboriously, and begins to jog around the arena. Just as he is about to cast a spell...
"RUN you lazy bastard!!!" says Abi
Flynn darts Abi a look with narrowed eyes and shrugs. He picks up the pace. He begins to wave his hands around and calls on the Al'North. He casts sound burst on one dummy after another with little trouble. After about the fourth dummy, Flynn becomes visibly tired and begins to struggle to keep up his pace. He begins to cast again, but his time *Pffffiiizzzz....* Nothing.
Flynn stops putting his hands on his knees and glancing up at Abi.
"That one don't count lass. I gotta stop smoking and drinking" Flynn says with a grin.
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Abi leans over and grins at Flynn, "Well, now that your warmed up a bit, I'll make it easier on you."
She then walks over to a small group of fighters who have been sparring in the corner. She whispers to them and looks over her shoulder at Flynn and gives him a nod and a smile.
Walking back over she gives Flynn a her canteen and says, "SO Flynny...catch your breath yet? Cause now your gonna do it again. But this time, "She indicates the fighters starting to spread themselves around the arena," these guys are gonna be in your way."
Flynn gives Abi the you have got to be kidding look, and standing up he just shakes his head. "I ain't no spring chicken anymore you know. I hope you know what the hells your doing."
Abi just smiles her crooked smile, "Your learning to fight the way a spellsword fights. You have to move, and breath and focus. Its hard but your doing alright for your first time. You should have seen me the first few times I had to do this!"
"Besides," she adds with a smile, "think of all the wenches you can chase and not get tired when we are done."
After a few more rounds, a bruised and exhausted Flynn collapses near Abi. Sitting back on his forearms legs splayed he just tilts his head back and tries to say something but nothing comes out.
Abi just smiles and nods..."Watch" She tosses the canteen into his lap and motions for the fighters to get set again.
When the fighters indicate they are ready, Abi just nods and takes off. She darts around one fighter who tries to grab her and fires off a magic missile at the dummies. The next one tries to ram her and she deftly drops below him causing him to fly in the air as he trips over her. When she comes up she blasts the next dummy with a lightning bolt turning it to straw! As she circles around to the next target the next 2 fighters decide to try and do a snatch and tackle. As the first one tries to make a grab for her she ducks low and rams full on into his gut with her head driving him into the other fighter! Rolling backwards, she crouches low and blasts the last dummy with a barrage of missiles. Popping up she sprints back to Flynn.
Breathing heavily, she looks back at her sparring partners and her face turns into a big grin as as she watches them help each other up. Turning to Flynn, she bends over nad puts her hands on her knees. "Thats how its done, sweety. Now...ready to go again?"
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Flynn looks at Abi with a combination of disdain and respect.
" lass. That was impressive, but I dare say the last time I ran this much I was running moonshine from Vehl to Fort Llast. Between the Rofis and the Toranites, they aint got nothing on you."
Flynn clambers to his feet and brushes off his cloths. He proceeds to put on a light shirt of chain for protection, unsheaths his blade, takes a deep breath while wiping his mouth and charges into the fray.
As the first opponent strikes, he counters with his blade and knocks him on his butt. Almost at the same time he extends his hand calling on the Al'North and dazes the second opponent. The third, catches him under the extended arm and gashes his ribbs until Flynn flings around and strikes him with the flat edge of his sword knocking him out. Flynn ducks in anticipation of the forth, and responds with an ice storm that knocks the opponent to his knees. As the fifth approaches, Flynn is heaving and gasping for air. He extends his hand again with another sound burst, but this time it fizzles and Flynn receives the blunt end of the opponents sword on the nose with a crunch. Blood spurts from Flynn's nose as he falls to his knees.
Abi proceeds to interject "Whoa, whoa, whoa fellas. That's enough. Flynn! Pull yourself together"
She motions him to the corner and hands him a canteen.
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Frowning concernedly at Flynn ABi kneels down in front of him and checks out his face. "Hold ona second FLynn..this might hurt a little." She pinches his nose and straightens and sets it so he can breath a little easier. "There, much better, now you can breath." SHe smiles reassuringly as she applies some potion of cure to let it heal faster.
To the others she just nods and thanks them for the help and tosses them small bag of coins.
"Hmm..maybe we should take a breather there Flynn. You did well though. Im impressed." She says reassurringly and approvingly. "Your pretty spry for an old fella." She continues on teasingly.
As she helps Flynn over to the benches and sits him down she asks to see his sword for a moment. Flynn just nods as he watches her while breathing slightly heavy. Sitting next to him she examines his blade and runs her hands gently across its surface. Taking the great blade she gently places the tip on the ground as she takes the handle.
"Now that your mind is too tired to think about a million things. Let me show you something." Closing her eyes briefly, Flynns sword suddenly glows and becomes cool to the touch. Frost seems to form on the blade and the drops of sweat on the floor near the tip turn to ice.
"With the Al'Noth we bend the elements to our will to create fireballs, lightning strikes and ice storms." She continues on solemnly as she focuses on Flynns sword. "As a spellsword you focus your energies in the fight, and your weapon becomes a focus of your intention. Mages are away from the fight, hurling fireballs and generating ice storms. In the middle of it, is where we stand." Suddenly Flynns sword turns bright red as if glowing with an inner fire that warms everything around you both. "Our focus is and must be tighter than theirs, where they hurl fire and freeze the air, we bind it to our weapon to burn as we cut. We freeze our weapons and our enemy turns to ice." Her voice seems low and distant as she speaks, her focus on the weapon though at the same time Abi seems very far away, though obviously aware of whats going on around you both.
Shaking out of her revery, Abi then looks at Flynn with a twinkle in her eye. She hands Flynn his blade back and the cold and fire seem to dissipate as he takes it back. "Come on, I'll buy you a beer. You look like you could use one!"
Smilingly she holds out her hand to Flynn to help him up. We can talk more when you get some wine in you." She smiles reassuringly at Flynn he limps slightly towards the One-Eyed Harpy.
-
Flynn takes his sword back careful not to touch the blade. He examines it closely as the enchantments fade.
"Well lass, you are full of surprises. Recently I to see my sword as an extension of my self. I don't even think about it anymore, it just moves instinctively as if it were a part of me. For me, I too can not stand back and lob spells. Even if I could master the more powerful spells, I need to be in the fray. I need to feel the reverberation of a well placed strike through my shoulders and hear the bone snapping yells from my enemies. The magic and music are a part of what I do when I am face to face with the enemy, but the sword ties it all together lass."
Flynn gets up off his bench feeling his nose and nodding in approval to Abi's handy work. As they head out to the One Eyed Harpy...
"The ales on me, however lass. It's just the way it be. Besides, I can't have me old mates at the One Eyed Harpy seeing a lady buying me spirits." says Flynn as he grins.
-
After a few days rest at the One Eyed Harpy, Flynn get's a bird from Abi. He struggles to sit up in bed and read it. Reaches for cup of ale and with a swig, he reads...
"FOCUS. That's the magic word for tonight Flynn. Get your arse to the Arena and we will continue our lessons."
After a few pleasantries and Abi showing genuine concern for Flynn's condition, she proceeds to setup the first lesson.
(1)
"No magics in this one. Just your sword and best armor"
Flynn shrugs and looks a her with doubt. "If you say so lass". They both launch at one another, Flynn with his powerful strokes from his Great Sword, and Abi with finesse like slashes from her two short swords. A few of Flynn's blows hit home, and Abi is in bad shape. Although Abi got a few good slashes in, Abi is unable to stand toe to toe with Flynn. Flynn disengages "That looks like enough lass, aye?"
Abi falls to her knees nodding her head.."yes, yes Flynn. Good".
(2)
After both have rest adequately, Abi stands up and says "Ok, this time buff with everything you got." Both Flynn and Abi began to swirl their hands and chant as they called on the Al'North to protect them. As both completed they both nodded to one another.
This time Flynn had a much more difficult time, and the match was much more evenly matched. In fact, Flynn was the first to say "enough Abi" as he coughed and spit up blood. It was obvious that this encounter took almost everything Flynn had. He was weezing and staggering.
Abi says "Still not bad Flynn, but you need to get in better shape. You also have a problem with losing focus. Anger can be your ally, or it can be your enemy. Learn to channel it properly, but never let it rule you."
Flynn nods as he leans over the well to grab a drink of water.
(3)
"Ok, this time we start with out any buffs. We call upon the Al'North while we are engaged. But wait. There is a twist."
Abi proceeds to strap about 150lbs of sand bags on Flynn's back until he can barely stand.
"Now, you must learn to focus while fighting, fatigued and weighed down"
"Gads lass! Is this really necessary?" says Flynn as he struggles with the load.
Abi grins and counts down "3-2-1. Ok, defend yourself and cast whatever you can"
At the same time Abi is throwing Magic Missiles at Flynn one after another. Flynn raises his sword, and attempts to call up on the Al'North. Haste is successfully cast. He then attempts to approach Abi, but he is overloaded and can not move quickly enough. In addition, it is taking all his energy. All the while, he is being bombarded by missiles. Flynn attempts to cast a Bull's Strength to help, but ppfffizzzz. Nothing. Angry and frustrated, he again attempts the Bull's and nothing ppppffiizzz. Flynn finally stops for a couple seconds not fighting the weight and silences his body and mind. He then calls upon the Al'North for Ghostly Visage with success. The missiles no longer affect him, but he is still so exhausted he collapses.
Abi stops and claps her hands. "A moment of brilliance Flynn. You did it for just a moment. But dare I say Flynn you need to get in shape and practice much more on your ability to focus. The good news is that we know you can do it. Now we just need to make it repeatable."
-
Abi continues to come to The One Eye Harpy to get Flynn out of bed at the crack of dawn for Spellsword training. Two to three training sessions a day result in some improvement in Flynn's ability to focus and channel his spirit into his sword.
Flynn is close to being able to take what Abi has learned on his own, and develop it into his own style of melding the Al'North with the art of sword wielding.
-
Finally! Flynn sits back, dust and lacquer covering his hands, and takes a long hard draw on a cold mug of mead.
"Ahh, now that's a masterpiece. Let them young upstarts try and top that"
He fingers a finely crafted yew violin. It has supple curves and fine detail that almost look divine. He sits and drinks for a long time admiring his work and knowing it is one of the finest ever made.