Pineslayer (Fanfic)

Welcome to the Warder Yards. This is the place for Warder and Trainee roleplays. Informal non-training interactions take place here, as well as some extended role plays.
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Welcome to the Warder Yards. This is the place for Warder and Trainee roleplays. Informal non-training interactions take place here, as well as some extended role plays. Yet these events may take place at any area of the Tower, and sometimes outside of it, since the images to the left merely serves as inspiration towards the sceneries of your stories. Channelers are always welcome, and might even find his or her bondmate through the threads that are displayed below.
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Lugh
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Joined: January 5th, 2018, 4:51 am

Pineslayer (Fanfic)

Post by Lugh » December 12th, 2018, 6:34 pm

Beron
Pineslayer
Beron worked the axe, his strikes growing smoother as the splitting head once more struck the log. A satisfying thunk filled the air, as the section he was working on in half. One half thankfully remained on the chopping block, saving him the trouble of having to bend down for another, and so he smoothly split it into quarters.

After that he reclaimed the other half section, and split quarters from it once more. Smiling, he watched as invisible hands began to lift the wood off the ground, the quarters losing their rough bark as Laerel practiced his weaves of air. Once the wood was cleared, Beron placed another section of wood on the block and he again fell into the rhythm of splitting and cutting it into quarters.

“You sure you don’t have better things to do right now? If I had that someone as lovely as Isla wandering the Infirmary, I’d probably cut my hand every breakfast,” teased Laerel as he continued to shave a quarter of wood down to tinder.

“Well who else would be willing to cut wood, just to watch you turn it into sawdust,” Beron said teasingly, recalling his surprise when Laerel had asked for help. The Dedicated had simply said it was much easier to slay wood than target practices all day, and then had explained the practice would give him an advantage the next time he had to shape blades of air.

“Besides, if I’m worn out from chopping wood, I will be less likely to do something drastic or foolohardy. And as odd as it sounds, the wood cutting was one chore I enjoyed at the Farm,” Beron said, the hum of the bond in his mind taking a lot of the sting out of his memories of the penance he had earned when he was a Ji.

“Foolhardy! I thought that was on the flag of Saldaea, don’t you all run around, jumping from killing trollocs all day, to chasing milkmaids all night,” chuckled Laerel as he dodged the small branch Beron had thrown his way. “Alright, peace. Peace I said!,” Laerel threw his hands up as the two men stopped throwing sticks and sat down with smiles breaking over their faces.

“Seriously though, what’s got you slaying pine trees?” Laerel asked, his voice full of the friendship the two had forged at the Farm.

“Well two things, I want to practice with the axe and as simple as it sounds, chopping wood builds the muscles for it. Secondly, I don’t think Isla is ready for a ring, and I don’t want to push. But we share quarters now as bondmates, and Light knows I am tempted. So I work myself to the bone, and she’s busy pouring over letters and getting ready for a mission. That keeps it from getting too much,” said Beron awkwardly shy. He knew the birds and the bees of course; it was impossible to live and bred animals without a basic knowledge of such things, but with Isla he knew that he respected her enough to wait until marriage.

“Well my friend, I think you are making yourself miserable for nothing. If she shared the bond with you, waited for you and love is there, go for it. But if slaying pine trees makes you content, I am happy to have the practice as well,” said Laerel with a wave towards the pile of split wood they had amassed.

“Thanks Laerel. Let’s get back to it,” Beron said as he took the axe up again, and began to work on the remaining pile.

Later that afternoon, with the chimes sounding the call back to classes; Laerel begged off from their woodcutting and dashed towards the Grey Tower. Beron took a moment to sense the bond, and from the direction he felt Isla he reasoned she was still at the Infirmary. Knowing that, he decided to keep working and he was lost in the rhythm of the chore when he heard a voice cough behind him.

``You planning for a new career Gaidin?” Master Boris asked, waving at the pile of wood that lay stacked around Beron.

“No Master Boris, I was simply looking to work on the axe a little, and this seemed like a good start. I hope I wasn’t in the way,” Beron replied as he paused to hone the blade, knowing that it would require sharpening before he replaced it with the rest.

“You want to chop wood till dusk, I am not going to stop you. Besides you did good work,” Boris said with a nod towards the similar piles his woodcutters had amassed over the morning, “It hasn’t gone unnoticed among the men and I that you’re here every morning, and take few breaks. Even with the Gaidin endurance, seems to me like you are starting to throw time away. I don’t mean to pry, I just know that chopping pine won’t take you as far as you need to go with that axe of yours. Unless you just need a place to clear your mind, then chop for as long as you like,” he finished with a wave as two of the men felling trees called him over.

Beron stood, thinking for a moment on what he had learned of the axe from Bastian and from putting it to practical use here on the woodcutters block. He had to admit that Boris was right, he had grown comfortable with the grip of the haft and had even worked on striking with both hands to get used to adapting his facing. While he was grateful the men had let him work alongside them without comment, he knew his time with them was likely done.

The next morning, Beron was awake with the dawn and after a long kiss after breakfast, was full of energy and frustrations to work out on the sands of the Warder Yard. His sparring partner for the day, unfortunately took the brunt of his frustration as Beron practiced. After chopping wood, the slashing strikes were faster and more powerful than they had ever been before, although after a practice sword struck him across the shoulder, Beron learned that overextending could be a real problem with the weapon. “Well done Ji’val, that was an excellent counter,” Beron said, forcing the scowl off his face as he ease the worried look from the Andoran’s face. After his acknowledgement, the Ji’val realized that he was not a Gaidin who would scold or anger, and his opponent began to press Beron harder.

By switching his hands, Beron began to realize that he could sweep a strike from the right hand, and instantly reverse to his left and counter with an upwards sweep back towards the center of the Ji’val. This allowed him to press his advantage, and soon he was learning to feint with a strike, simply to allow the weapon to build up speed. This would result in a stronger strike when he allowed it to connect with the shield.

After working on that, he was sparring with the Ji’val when he realized that he had grown overly used to using the axe head to attack. Recalling the fight against the bandits who had ambushed them, he began to work hooks and strikes with the haft into the attacks he used, and as the Ji’val fell to his back under the onslaught, Beron paused and helped the other man up.

“Thank you Ji’val. That will be all for today, I appreciate the help,” Beron said as the other man nodded weakly. Looking at the Warder Yards, Beron realized that he had grown so engrossed in the practice that he had kept the Ji’val much later than he had planned to. Still as he made his way to the Armoury, Beron was still running through the combinations and attacks he had managed. Looking towards the Grey Tower, and the wing of the building that housed his new quarters, he realized he badly needed a bath before he dined with Isla. Aching, his muscles sore and tired, he idly wondered if Isla would enjoy a Saldaean bath, the steam and hot water an invitation to… forcing that thought down, Beron reasoned it would be a cold bath for him this evening.
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