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Central Bowl
Seven spindles brush the clouds overhead, displaying a jagged, spired cotillion grey-stoned majesty. The bowl from here is expansively large, extending a full half-mile in both directions, and though a bit of a stretch at times, most of the hubs of activity can be easily observed. Hard-packed ground shows the common pathways, all of them meandering about the craggy bunch of boulders that form a centerpiece within the middle of the otherwise vast emptiness.
The hatching grounds and leadership weyrs are located to the north, while the sounds of herdbeasts noisily allude to the pens slightly east of there. Constant traffic marks the entrance to the westward living caverns, and a glance... [look closer]
It is a summer midmorning.
In the bright light of summer midmorning, Cheyanna sits in front of the guard headquarters, straddling a weight bench, a few hides in front of her. Clearly, she is focused for the moment on the three percent of a recruit's time that is book learnin'. She has evidently done some working out already; a pair of hand weights rest beside her on the ground, and she is looking a bit sweat-stained.
Krummolt comes out of the barracks carrying a heavy wooden staff and a heavy wood-and-sandbag dummy awkwardly in his arms. The weight does not seem to be nearly as much of a problem as the fact that the staff is longer than Krummolt is tall and the dummy is massive around. "Hey," he calls to Cheyanna since he is headed in her direction. "Can you gimme a hand for a minute here?"
Cheyanna glances up at Krummolt's call, taking a second to focus in on him and identify the issue. Once she has, her face lights in a smile and she pushes to her feet, swinging her leg over the bench. She heads to Krummolt at a jog. "Want me to grab this?" she asks, taking the item that's easier for her to claim -- the staff -- without waiting for an answer.
Decadre is actually coming back to the barracks. HE's in his usual work uniform. He STILL hasn't gotten all the dust out of it from the other day, but it's at least presentable. "Sir..." He greets very politely indeed, "Hi..." He greets with much less formality to Cheyanna. A fellow recruit is a bit less nervous making to him at the moment.
Krummolt clearly meant for Cheanna to take exactly what she did. He might not be exceptionally generous to the recruits, but he he is at least willing to do his own work. "Yeah, thanks. Just hold it 'til I get this dropped." He carries the dummy and then sets it up with some space around it, straightens his shirt, and goes to retrieve the staff. "Hey...ah, recruit." He ponders for a moment, then decides that honesty trumps politeness with recruits. "What's yer name again?" he asks Decadre.
"Hi, Decadre!" Cheyanna says brightly, serving the dual purpose of greeting her fellow recruit and educating Krummolt. And in just two words! Efficiency is clearly the watchword of the recruits. She returns the staff to Krummolt as he reaches to claim it, asking, "Why are you always practicing with that? It isn't a guard weapon, right?"
Decadre peers, "Decadre, sir.." He says practically on top of CHeyanna's greeting. "And is there anything NOT a guard weapon?" Given that he'd seen thrown apple cores used as weapons quite recently he wasn't about to second guess anything at the moment.
Krummolt gives a little nod as both recruits inform him of Decadre's name. "Right." Then he grimaces as he gives his staff a little warmup twirl. "Nah, Decadre, only sanctioned weapons to carry on duty are knives." His tone and expression display his dislike of that policy, even though he refrains from saying so explicitly. "When I was back in Crom, staff was my main weapon. Wanna keep it up. 'sides, I like it better."
"I guess if you don't have anything else, you use whatever you can get your hands on," Cheyanna says, taking her typical path of placating both sides. "But I didn't think there was any training in anything but knife and hand-to-hand. I guess it makes sense if you trained with it in the beginning to keep it up. It's not like you're training with something all new, right?" She lowers to sit again on the bench, lifting one of her hand weights.
Decadre nods and considers, "But what do you do when /they're/ using something else? They're not bound to use only knife and bare hands." Images of flying chairs dance in his head... He nods to Cheyanna. "But we don't practice fighting with furniture..." He explains.
Krummolt snorts at Decadre. "Yeah, that's what /I'm/ sayin'," he replies dryly. "That, and knife is a killer weapon. Staff's much better to subdue a dumbass drunk with a bigger knife than you." He starts to stretch slowly. "I don't think there's a rule against hitting someone with a chair, now you mention it. But you can't carry one on patrol."
Cheyanna giggles at that last comment from Krummolt and tells Decadre, "I got complimented for throwing a shirt at someone the other day? I guess if you can think to use furniture, it's okay. But they just train us in things that are easier to drill, you know? That would be kind of a neat class, though. Like, find the five best weapons in this room, fast! And say why."
Decadre nods, to Cheyanna, "Yeah it would." Then looks at Krummolt. "But are they going to be mean enough to take your 'walking stick' away from you?" Decadre asked much too innocently. "Especially if you have an external patrol... An extra balancing point..."
Krummolt wrinkles his nose at Decadre. "No one's gonna mistake this for a walking stick," he says, hefting his thick, heavy staff. "Well, I guess they could, but I'd kinda doubt it." Then he frowns for a moment. "That's not a bad idea," he says as he considers Cheyanna. "Awright. Look around this guard area here. Name weapons! Name one, say why and alternate, recruits! Go!" He points the end of his staff at Cheyanna first ready to turn on Decadre when she's come up with something.
Oh, crap. Cheyanna looks vaguely horrified, but doesn't really hesitate; she's got a weapon already in her hand. She hefts the hand weight to make it immediately visible. "Hard and heavy," she says. "Could be thrown or add force to a punch."
Decadre chews his lower lip and scuffs his foot, and that gives him an idea. "Dust... throw it in someone's eyes so they can't see..." Old classic but he's at least thinking.
Krummolt gives a nod at each. "Weights, good. Light one probably better, or you'll get slowed down. Dust ain't bad, but it won't work well 'gainst anyone with experience. We'll skip on the knives and my staff. What else..." He looks around the area and frowns. "Though I gotta admit, the pickin's out here are kinda slim. If you can each tell me how to use one more, I'll be impressed. Should do this in the living caverns some time."
"Well," Cheyanna says, speaking slowly but without much pause, "You could knock the dummy at someone. It probably wouldn't knock them down if they know what they're doing, but it could tangle them up, and even if they just batted it aside, it would be make them move a weapon out of an offensive position, right?"
Decadre ums, There really isn't much left. "Bench?" He hazards not sounding really sure of himself. "Kick it at them?" It's about all he can see at this point and just hopies it's good enough.
Krummolt chuckles at the answers and nods. "Yeah, there, ah, just isn't much else out here," he agrees. "You can't exactly pick 'em up and beat someone with 'em, but you can push 'em or kick 'em...I'd recommend grabbing that bench, though, you could break your foot on that thing if you didn't kick it right. And you can use either one of 'em to put a little distance between you and your opponent, which might be even more useful than flingin' 'em." He grins at the recruits, though the expression does little to make him look less intimidating. "Pretty good. Lesson over."
Oh, good. Cheyanna likes short lessons. She flashes Decadre a relieved grin (Recruits represent), and pumps her hand weight a few times, asking, "If a nutcase with a sword or something were running at you out here, what would you use? If you didn't have your staff or knives or anything."
Decadre relaxes a little, as relieved as Cheyanna. "Um. I'd recomend my feet to FIND something a bit longer..." Deca admits. He has no desire to face down a fool with a sword when he doesn't have anything but his hands.
Krummolt snorts at that. "Yeah, no kidding," he replies. "Me, I'd probably start grabbing weapons and throwing them at his head, hollaring for help from the barracks. Then I'd duck around the dummy and try to keep him busy guessing which side I was gonna come out on. If I can get him to try and make a swing around that thing, too, then I stand a good shot of getting my hand on the hilt, and then all bets are off. If he's too smart? Then we get into using a weight to parry with, and if I'm down that far, things're gonna suck for me."
Cheyanna nods slowly at that, looking thoughtful. "That makes a lot of sense," she says to Krummolt. "It would be kind of cool to set up tables out here or something sometime, like we were fighting in the living caverns or something. Because we don't really think about using stuff to get behind and things usually."
Decadre nodded, "Though um... if you see a fight starting to break out? Should you try and get in the middle of it or not?" Thinking about the near brawl the other day in the living caverns. "Even if there are no weapons other than maybe furniture in volved?"
"No," Krummolt says firmly to Decadre. "Not as a recruit. You're supposed to go running for help until you get promoted. /I/ would get into the middle of it. Try and cool 'em off or intimidate 'em before they actually start swinging. Though a practice brawl sounds like fun. Have to get some furnature we don't care about, though." Though the recruits can take plenty of abuse, apparently. Krummolt seems to have mostly finished his warmups and gives his staff a twirl as he settles into a fighting stance, facing the dummy.
Oh, yes. Be cautious of the chairs. They might get hurt. Cheyanna gives a bright grin, though, glancing again at Decadre. "Yeah, I got yelled at the other day because I tried to get between two people that were just pushing each other. I guess it could've been bad if they'd been angry enough to turn on me, and I just wasn't thinking that way."
Decadre nods, "For me the worst it got was alot of shouting and a thrown apple. ONe of'em left 'fore it got more than that..." He admits, "I think it'd be a good idea sir... just try not to give us concussions /before/ we know what we're doing to fend off a chair?"
Krummolt grins at Decadre, looking up for a moment. "Don't worry, won't hit you over the /head/. Just, y'know, the shoulders." The light in his eyes hints at the addition of: 'Probably.' Then he starts hammering the dummy with his staff. "Just wait" twack TWACK "'til someone" Twack "throws a" thwacktwackTWACK! "table at you."
Cheyanna returns the weight to the ground and says, "I totally landed on my head yesterday when we were doing this throw thing. It was really dumb. But my da says I have a hard head and that probably helped."
Decadre nods, "You'll get the hang of it. I've been doin' this for months and I still get bruised up... bot not near so much as when I first started.' He admits. "An' sir? If anyone can actualy pick up one of the tables from the Living cavern? I'm going to run. they're huge. I don't think I can do anything agaoinst somene who can pick'em up and toss'em at me.
"Yeah, well, you probably won't take a fall that way again, will ya?" Krummolt asks of Cheyanna, mostly rhetorically as he makes the heavy bag wobble under the abuse of his practice. Then he has to pause to chuckle at Decadre. "Well, I just pictured someone kinda tippin' one over atcha, but I guess you got a point."
"No, sir," Chey says with a grin. And then her eyes flick to Decadre, sparkling. "Yeah, unless there's a dragon attacking us, in which case I think we're /all/ dead." She picks up a piece of hide, maintaining the illusion of working, although the illusion would be more effective if she were, as an example, /looking/ at it.
"Dragons don't attack people, so I think we're safe enough..." Decadre reasons, "But yeah. TAble tipped, I hope I'm fast enough to get out of the way... I could dodge my foster-sisters growing up soooooooo." He leaves it there. AFter all foster sisters had to bhe the worst thing in the world... right?
"If the dragons start attacking people, I'm outta here," Krummolt says between strikes. "It ain't so easy to dodge if you're, y'know, wrestling with someone. They had smaller tables in the tavern in Crom. They got tossed around and broken a lot." The dummy wobbles under a particularly heavy stroke and Krummolt pauses a moment to let it settle back into place before renewing the assault.
"I don't ever want to go to Crom," Cheyanna asserts firmly. "I like it here. Not much too bad ever happens here, really." She watches the dummy creak ominously and adds, "Really, boring isn't so bad sometimes."
Decadre grimaces, "Can't be any /colder/ than here..." Decadre points out. "i'm glad it's summer. Igot here mid winter and thought it would NEVER warm up!" That's what he gets for going north when he's from southern boll!
"Ain't much warmer," Krummolt answers Decadre. "But you got more drunken miners brawling. Wouldn't be a bad thing to let the guards around here spend, like, a Turn in Crom. Ain't that many real fights around here to break up." He moves his feet with surprising lightness around his practice dummy as he abuses it with both ends of his staff.
Cheyanna eyes Krummolt a bit nervously. He's not actually going to suggest that to anyone, is he? Worse: no one's actually going to /listen/, right? "I think it's okay if we stay here," she says. "I mean, it's not like nothing /ever/ happens, right?"
Decadre shrugs, "I dunno. I heard a LOT of stories comeing up here. But other than one girl-fight I haven't seen anything that matches them..."
Cheyanna eyes Decadre at the word girl-fight. You gotta problem with girls, bub?
Krummolt snorts at Decadre, promptly forgetting his idea to send recruits to Crom. "Seems like it's usually a Turn or two between /real/ fights up here. Guess the riders get most of that out in the air and most of us don't mess with them." Except, if you listen to the right stories, that Krummolt did at least once. "Should stage a mock fight. Like, me an' your dad, Chey, an' make you and Decadre try and break us up."
"Am I allowed to tickle him?" Cheyanna asks brightly. "Because that sometimes works really well." She's kidding, but mainly because she's kind of wary of the notion. She asks Decadre, "Oh, have you learned that elbow-thing yet? With the popping and the making them drop a weapon? Because that's really cool. I want to learn it."
Decadre shakes his head. "I've been /shown/ it but can't say I've learned it." He completely misses the look Cheyanna gave him about the 'girl fight' coment. "If tickling works, wouldn't it be a valid tactic?" He offers. If it breaks up a fight without making someone dead Decadre's all for it.
"It's a tricky one," Krummolt comments about the elbow-thing disarm. "If you know he's got a tickling weakness, I'd exploit that. But I warn you, if you tickle me and it actually tickles, I flail a lot." It seems somewhat more unlikely that Cheyanna would attempt it with Krummolt, however.
Cheyanna eyes Krummolt a bit dubiously. Tickling him seems really... wrong, somehow. Like calling him 'cute' or something. Two concepts that oughtn't exist in the same universe. "They said I can learn the elbow thing when I have all the falls perfect. But they're hard."
Decadre nods and shrugs. Yes tickling Krummolt seems very wrong. "It's not something I'd risk unless I KNEW they were ticklish though..." Decadre admits. "It could hurt if you were wrong..."
Because it's only appropriate, Iliad emerges from the caverns, bubbly pie in one hand and half a plain roll in the other, since the other half's currently stuffed in his mouth. "Ay uys," he greets, sidling up a bit as he invites himself into whatever conversation may be going on at the time. Chew chew swallow, "So what's up? Hey Chey." Yes, she's special.
Krummolt relies on people just not tickling him, because he would have to persuade them not to do that again, and he might get himself into trouble. "I wouldn't try it anyway, but that's just me. Might get you surprise points, I guess." He glances around at Iliad. "Hey, ah...Ili...us?" Close, but no cigar.
"Oh. Hi, Iliad." Cheyanna's lack of bubblyness would hardly be notable if, you know, we weren't talking about Cheyanna. "We're just talking. Krummolt was teaching us about using things for weapons a little before."
Decadre nods again, "Yeah. t hings like benches and weights and chairs... 'specially for people ith bigger weapons than we have..." Decadre is already consdering making 'barstool' a favorite weapon that is if he can find one to practice with, of course.
"Yeah, you guys," Iliad replies to Krummolt, giving him a weird look. Mistake unnoticed. Two points. "Oh really?" Chey's his next focal point, to which he nods at her reply. "Wait, how do you use a bench to--I mean, as a weapon?" That's a little mind baffling. Decadre's offered a quick chin-nod greeting as he situates himself into the "inner circle". "Oh waitwaitwait, you mean like a small bench thing? Not like a huge heavy thing, right?"
Krummolt spins away from his dummy and says, "Like THIS!" to Iliad. He hooks one end of his staff under a corner of an unused bench and flips it up into the air towards a spot about five feet to Iliad's left. Still, the bench is propelled with enough force to be alarming even if it isn't going to do anything other than clatter around on the ground.
Cheyanna is startled, at least, and lets out a little shriek. Yeah, those are great guard reflexes. Look how quickly she got that shriek out. It's a good thing Krummolt didn't target the bench she's sitting on, or she might have shrieked him to death.
"AAAH!" Taken by surprise? You betcha! Iliad does jump back a bit, eyes widened. "So--just as like a uh, scare pero--par--pre--rogative?" he asks, canting his head to look down at the bench. "Or are you supposed to flip that to land on someone's head? 'cause if it's big enough, that could be like, deadly force." You think? "Unless it was wood and then it'd just hurt like--a lot." Wow. He's a smart one, huh?
Krummolt chuckles as he watches the recruits jump. "Scare tactic," he supplies. "But I didn't have to miss. Though, y'know, you prob'ly woulda dodged. Anyway." He spins his staff upright. "Enjoy yerselves. I'm heading back into the barracks. No more surprise lessons today." And he strides off toward the headquarters, taking his staff but leaving the big dummy he brought out with him.
Cheyanna watches Krummolt depart, her heart still beating fast. Then she looks back at Iliad, her eyes wide. "Wow," she says. She rubs one arm, adding, "So, am I the only one who's really glad he's on /our/ side?" She's kidding. Mostly. Her nose wrinkles, though, and she tacks on a "I should be going too, actually. I really need to finish these law question things."
Iliad's eyes are still wide like a doe as he watches Krummolt take off. After a long moment, he finally turns to face Chey while sucking in his breath. "Wow. Yeah, definitely glad he's on /our/ side." Whether or not he's serious, he's grinning. "That was kinda cool though." As she too states that she has to leave, he simply nods his head, sniffing once. "Oh. Okay. Wanna meet up later, maybe? After you finish the question thing, that is. Mine's almost done."
"Okay," Chey says, though not with tremendous enthusiasm. "I'll see you then." And off she goes.
Seven spindles brush the clouds overhead, displaying a jagged, spired cotillion grey-stoned majesty. The bowl from here is expansively large, extending a full half-mile in both directions, and though a bit of a stretch at times, most of the hubs of activity can be easily observed. Hard-packed ground shows the common pathways, all of them meandering about the craggy bunch of boulders that form a centerpiece within the middle of the otherwise vast emptiness.
The hatching grounds and leadership weyrs are located to the north, while the sounds of herdbeasts noisily allude to the pens slightly east of there. Constant traffic marks the entrance to the westward living caverns, and a glance... [look closer]
It is a summer midmorning.
In the bright light of summer midmorning, Cheyanna sits in front of the guard headquarters, straddling a weight bench, a few hides in front of her. Clearly, she is focused for the moment on the three percent of a recruit's time that is book learnin'. She has evidently done some working out already; a pair of hand weights rest beside her on the ground, and she is looking a bit sweat-stained.
Krummolt comes out of the barracks carrying a heavy wooden staff and a heavy wood-and-sandbag dummy awkwardly in his arms. The weight does not seem to be nearly as much of a problem as the fact that the staff is longer than Krummolt is tall and the dummy is massive around. "Hey," he calls to Cheyanna since he is headed in her direction. "Can you gimme a hand for a minute here?"
Cheyanna glances up at Krummolt's call, taking a second to focus in on him and identify the issue. Once she has, her face lights in a smile and she pushes to her feet, swinging her leg over the bench. She heads to Krummolt at a jog. "Want me to grab this?" she asks, taking the item that's easier for her to claim -- the staff -- without waiting for an answer.
Decadre is actually coming back to the barracks. HE's in his usual work uniform. He STILL hasn't gotten all the dust out of it from the other day, but it's at least presentable. "Sir..." He greets very politely indeed, "Hi..." He greets with much less formality to Cheyanna. A fellow recruit is a bit less nervous making to him at the moment.
Krummolt clearly meant for Cheanna to take exactly what she did. He might not be exceptionally generous to the recruits, but he he is at least willing to do his own work. "Yeah, thanks. Just hold it 'til I get this dropped." He carries the dummy and then sets it up with some space around it, straightens his shirt, and goes to retrieve the staff. "Hey...ah, recruit." He ponders for a moment, then decides that honesty trumps politeness with recruits. "What's yer name again?" he asks Decadre.
"Hi, Decadre!" Cheyanna says brightly, serving the dual purpose of greeting her fellow recruit and educating Krummolt. And in just two words! Efficiency is clearly the watchword of the recruits. She returns the staff to Krummolt as he reaches to claim it, asking, "Why are you always practicing with that? It isn't a guard weapon, right?"
Decadre peers, "Decadre, sir.." He says practically on top of CHeyanna's greeting. "And is there anything NOT a guard weapon?" Given that he'd seen thrown apple cores used as weapons quite recently he wasn't about to second guess anything at the moment.
Krummolt gives a little nod as both recruits inform him of Decadre's name. "Right." Then he grimaces as he gives his staff a little warmup twirl. "Nah, Decadre, only sanctioned weapons to carry on duty are knives." His tone and expression display his dislike of that policy, even though he refrains from saying so explicitly. "When I was back in Crom, staff was my main weapon. Wanna keep it up. 'sides, I like it better."
"I guess if you don't have anything else, you use whatever you can get your hands on," Cheyanna says, taking her typical path of placating both sides. "But I didn't think there was any training in anything but knife and hand-to-hand. I guess it makes sense if you trained with it in the beginning to keep it up. It's not like you're training with something all new, right?" She lowers to sit again on the bench, lifting one of her hand weights.
Decadre nods and considers, "But what do you do when /they're/ using something else? They're not bound to use only knife and bare hands." Images of flying chairs dance in his head... He nods to Cheyanna. "But we don't practice fighting with furniture..." He explains.
Krummolt snorts at Decadre. "Yeah, that's what /I'm/ sayin'," he replies dryly. "That, and knife is a killer weapon. Staff's much better to subdue a dumbass drunk with a bigger knife than you." He starts to stretch slowly. "I don't think there's a rule against hitting someone with a chair, now you mention it. But you can't carry one on patrol."
Cheyanna giggles at that last comment from Krummolt and tells Decadre, "I got complimented for throwing a shirt at someone the other day? I guess if you can think to use furniture, it's okay. But they just train us in things that are easier to drill, you know? That would be kind of a neat class, though. Like, find the five best weapons in this room, fast! And say why."
Decadre nods, to Cheyanna, "Yeah it would." Then looks at Krummolt. "But are they going to be mean enough to take your 'walking stick' away from you?" Decadre asked much too innocently. "Especially if you have an external patrol... An extra balancing point..."
Krummolt wrinkles his nose at Decadre. "No one's gonna mistake this for a walking stick," he says, hefting his thick, heavy staff. "Well, I guess they could, but I'd kinda doubt it." Then he frowns for a moment. "That's not a bad idea," he says as he considers Cheyanna. "Awright. Look around this guard area here. Name weapons! Name one, say why and alternate, recruits! Go!" He points the end of his staff at Cheyanna first ready to turn on Decadre when she's come up with something.
Oh, crap. Cheyanna looks vaguely horrified, but doesn't really hesitate; she's got a weapon already in her hand. She hefts the hand weight to make it immediately visible. "Hard and heavy," she says. "Could be thrown or add force to a punch."
Decadre chews his lower lip and scuffs his foot, and that gives him an idea. "Dust... throw it in someone's eyes so they can't see..." Old classic but he's at least thinking.
Krummolt gives a nod at each. "Weights, good. Light one probably better, or you'll get slowed down. Dust ain't bad, but it won't work well 'gainst anyone with experience. We'll skip on the knives and my staff. What else..." He looks around the area and frowns. "Though I gotta admit, the pickin's out here are kinda slim. If you can each tell me how to use one more, I'll be impressed. Should do this in the living caverns some time."
"Well," Cheyanna says, speaking slowly but without much pause, "You could knock the dummy at someone. It probably wouldn't knock them down if they know what they're doing, but it could tangle them up, and even if they just batted it aside, it would be make them move a weapon out of an offensive position, right?"
Decadre ums, There really isn't much left. "Bench?" He hazards not sounding really sure of himself. "Kick it at them?" It's about all he can see at this point and just hopies it's good enough.
Krummolt chuckles at the answers and nods. "Yeah, there, ah, just isn't much else out here," he agrees. "You can't exactly pick 'em up and beat someone with 'em, but you can push 'em or kick 'em...I'd recommend grabbing that bench, though, you could break your foot on that thing if you didn't kick it right. And you can use either one of 'em to put a little distance between you and your opponent, which might be even more useful than flingin' 'em." He grins at the recruits, though the expression does little to make him look less intimidating. "Pretty good. Lesson over."
Oh, good. Cheyanna likes short lessons. She flashes Decadre a relieved grin (Recruits represent), and pumps her hand weight a few times, asking, "If a nutcase with a sword or something were running at you out here, what would you use? If you didn't have your staff or knives or anything."
Decadre relaxes a little, as relieved as Cheyanna. "Um. I'd recomend my feet to FIND something a bit longer..." Deca admits. He has no desire to face down a fool with a sword when he doesn't have anything but his hands.
Krummolt snorts at that. "Yeah, no kidding," he replies. "Me, I'd probably start grabbing weapons and throwing them at his head, hollaring for help from the barracks. Then I'd duck around the dummy and try to keep him busy guessing which side I was gonna come out on. If I can get him to try and make a swing around that thing, too, then I stand a good shot of getting my hand on the hilt, and then all bets are off. If he's too smart? Then we get into using a weight to parry with, and if I'm down that far, things're gonna suck for me."
Cheyanna nods slowly at that, looking thoughtful. "That makes a lot of sense," she says to Krummolt. "It would be kind of cool to set up tables out here or something sometime, like we were fighting in the living caverns or something. Because we don't really think about using stuff to get behind and things usually."
Decadre nodded, "Though um... if you see a fight starting to break out? Should you try and get in the middle of it or not?" Thinking about the near brawl the other day in the living caverns. "Even if there are no weapons other than maybe furniture in volved?"
"No," Krummolt says firmly to Decadre. "Not as a recruit. You're supposed to go running for help until you get promoted. /I/ would get into the middle of it. Try and cool 'em off or intimidate 'em before they actually start swinging. Though a practice brawl sounds like fun. Have to get some furnature we don't care about, though." Though the recruits can take plenty of abuse, apparently. Krummolt seems to have mostly finished his warmups and gives his staff a twirl as he settles into a fighting stance, facing the dummy.
Oh, yes. Be cautious of the chairs. They might get hurt. Cheyanna gives a bright grin, though, glancing again at Decadre. "Yeah, I got yelled at the other day because I tried to get between two people that were just pushing each other. I guess it could've been bad if they'd been angry enough to turn on me, and I just wasn't thinking that way."
Decadre nods, "For me the worst it got was alot of shouting and a thrown apple. ONe of'em left 'fore it got more than that..." He admits, "I think it'd be a good idea sir... just try not to give us concussions /before/ we know what we're doing to fend off a chair?"
Krummolt grins at Decadre, looking up for a moment. "Don't worry, won't hit you over the /head/. Just, y'know, the shoulders." The light in his eyes hints at the addition of: 'Probably.' Then he starts hammering the dummy with his staff. "Just wait" twack TWACK "'til someone" Twack "throws a" thwacktwackTWACK! "table at you."
Cheyanna returns the weight to the ground and says, "I totally landed on my head yesterday when we were doing this throw thing. It was really dumb. But my da says I have a hard head and that probably helped."
Decadre nods, "You'll get the hang of it. I've been doin' this for months and I still get bruised up... bot not near so much as when I first started.' He admits. "An' sir? If anyone can actualy pick up one of the tables from the Living cavern? I'm going to run. they're huge. I don't think I can do anything agaoinst somene who can pick'em up and toss'em at me.
"Yeah, well, you probably won't take a fall that way again, will ya?" Krummolt asks of Cheyanna, mostly rhetorically as he makes the heavy bag wobble under the abuse of his practice. Then he has to pause to chuckle at Decadre. "Well, I just pictured someone kinda tippin' one over atcha, but I guess you got a point."
"No, sir," Chey says with a grin. And then her eyes flick to Decadre, sparkling. "Yeah, unless there's a dragon attacking us, in which case I think we're /all/ dead." She picks up a piece of hide, maintaining the illusion of working, although the illusion would be more effective if she were, as an example, /looking/ at it.
"Dragons don't attack people, so I think we're safe enough..." Decadre reasons, "But yeah. TAble tipped, I hope I'm fast enough to get out of the way... I could dodge my foster-sisters growing up soooooooo." He leaves it there. AFter all foster sisters had to bhe the worst thing in the world... right?
"If the dragons start attacking people, I'm outta here," Krummolt says between strikes. "It ain't so easy to dodge if you're, y'know, wrestling with someone. They had smaller tables in the tavern in Crom. They got tossed around and broken a lot." The dummy wobbles under a particularly heavy stroke and Krummolt pauses a moment to let it settle back into place before renewing the assault.
"I don't ever want to go to Crom," Cheyanna asserts firmly. "I like it here. Not much too bad ever happens here, really." She watches the dummy creak ominously and adds, "Really, boring isn't so bad sometimes."
Decadre grimaces, "Can't be any /colder/ than here..." Decadre points out. "i'm glad it's summer. Igot here mid winter and thought it would NEVER warm up!" That's what he gets for going north when he's from southern boll!
"Ain't much warmer," Krummolt answers Decadre. "But you got more drunken miners brawling. Wouldn't be a bad thing to let the guards around here spend, like, a Turn in Crom. Ain't that many real fights around here to break up." He moves his feet with surprising lightness around his practice dummy as he abuses it with both ends of his staff.
Cheyanna eyes Krummolt a bit nervously. He's not actually going to suggest that to anyone, is he? Worse: no one's actually going to /listen/, right? "I think it's okay if we stay here," she says. "I mean, it's not like nothing /ever/ happens, right?"
Decadre shrugs, "I dunno. I heard a LOT of stories comeing up here. But other than one girl-fight I haven't seen anything that matches them..."
Cheyanna eyes Decadre at the word girl-fight. You gotta problem with girls, bub?
Krummolt snorts at Decadre, promptly forgetting his idea to send recruits to Crom. "Seems like it's usually a Turn or two between /real/ fights up here. Guess the riders get most of that out in the air and most of us don't mess with them." Except, if you listen to the right stories, that Krummolt did at least once. "Should stage a mock fight. Like, me an' your dad, Chey, an' make you and Decadre try and break us up."
"Am I allowed to tickle him?" Cheyanna asks brightly. "Because that sometimes works really well." She's kidding, but mainly because she's kind of wary of the notion. She asks Decadre, "Oh, have you learned that elbow-thing yet? With the popping and the making them drop a weapon? Because that's really cool. I want to learn it."
Decadre shakes his head. "I've been /shown/ it but can't say I've learned it." He completely misses the look Cheyanna gave him about the 'girl fight' coment. "If tickling works, wouldn't it be a valid tactic?" He offers. If it breaks up a fight without making someone dead Decadre's all for it.
"It's a tricky one," Krummolt comments about the elbow-thing disarm. "If you know he's got a tickling weakness, I'd exploit that. But I warn you, if you tickle me and it actually tickles, I flail a lot." It seems somewhat more unlikely that Cheyanna would attempt it with Krummolt, however.
Cheyanna eyes Krummolt a bit dubiously. Tickling him seems really... wrong, somehow. Like calling him 'cute' or something. Two concepts that oughtn't exist in the same universe. "They said I can learn the elbow thing when I have all the falls perfect. But they're hard."
Decadre nods and shrugs. Yes tickling Krummolt seems very wrong. "It's not something I'd risk unless I KNEW they were ticklish though..." Decadre admits. "It could hurt if you were wrong..."
Because it's only appropriate, Iliad emerges from the caverns, bubbly pie in one hand and half a plain roll in the other, since the other half's currently stuffed in his mouth. "Ay uys," he greets, sidling up a bit as he invites himself into whatever conversation may be going on at the time. Chew chew swallow, "So what's up? Hey Chey." Yes, she's special.
Krummolt relies on people just not tickling him, because he would have to persuade them not to do that again, and he might get himself into trouble. "I wouldn't try it anyway, but that's just me. Might get you surprise points, I guess." He glances around at Iliad. "Hey, ah...Ili...us?" Close, but no cigar.
"Oh. Hi, Iliad." Cheyanna's lack of bubblyness would hardly be notable if, you know, we weren't talking about Cheyanna. "We're just talking. Krummolt was teaching us about using things for weapons a little before."
Decadre nods again, "Yeah. t hings like benches and weights and chairs... 'specially for people ith bigger weapons than we have..." Decadre is already consdering making 'barstool' a favorite weapon that is if he can find one to practice with, of course.
"Yeah, you guys," Iliad replies to Krummolt, giving him a weird look. Mistake unnoticed. Two points. "Oh really?" Chey's his next focal point, to which he nods at her reply. "Wait, how do you use a bench to--I mean, as a weapon?" That's a little mind baffling. Decadre's offered a quick chin-nod greeting as he situates himself into the "inner circle". "Oh waitwaitwait, you mean like a small bench thing? Not like a huge heavy thing, right?"
Krummolt spins away from his dummy and says, "Like THIS!" to Iliad. He hooks one end of his staff under a corner of an unused bench and flips it up into the air towards a spot about five feet to Iliad's left. Still, the bench is propelled with enough force to be alarming even if it isn't going to do anything other than clatter around on the ground.
Cheyanna is startled, at least, and lets out a little shriek. Yeah, those are great guard reflexes. Look how quickly she got that shriek out. It's a good thing Krummolt didn't target the bench she's sitting on, or she might have shrieked him to death.
"AAAH!" Taken by surprise? You betcha! Iliad does jump back a bit, eyes widened. "So--just as like a uh, scare pero--par--pre--rogative?" he asks, canting his head to look down at the bench. "Or are you supposed to flip that to land on someone's head? 'cause if it's big enough, that could be like, deadly force." You think? "Unless it was wood and then it'd just hurt like--a lot." Wow. He's a smart one, huh?
Krummolt chuckles as he watches the recruits jump. "Scare tactic," he supplies. "But I didn't have to miss. Though, y'know, you prob'ly woulda dodged. Anyway." He spins his staff upright. "Enjoy yerselves. I'm heading back into the barracks. No more surprise lessons today." And he strides off toward the headquarters, taking his staff but leaving the big dummy he brought out with him.
Cheyanna watches Krummolt depart, her heart still beating fast. Then she looks back at Iliad, her eyes wide. "Wow," she says. She rubs one arm, adding, "So, am I the only one who's really glad he's on /our/ side?" She's kidding. Mostly. Her nose wrinkles, though, and she tacks on a "I should be going too, actually. I really need to finish these law question things."
Iliad's eyes are still wide like a doe as he watches Krummolt take off. After a long moment, he finally turns to face Chey while sucking in his breath. "Wow. Yeah, definitely glad he's on /our/ side." Whether or not he's serious, he's grinning. "That was kinda cool though." As she too states that she has to leave, he simply nods his head, sniffing once. "Oh. Okay. Wanna meet up later, maybe? After you finish the question thing, that is. Mine's almost done."
"Okay," Chey says, though not with tremendous enthusiasm. "I'll see you then." And off she goes.